#suffice it to say this is the only good part of the scene and youre welcome for me cutting out the ooc spike jerking her around before this

[wysteria-bloom]

⚝ " mine, all mine "

How do the hazbin boys kiss you

Warnings : I mentioned 'lady' in lucifer's part, but the reader can still be interpreted as whatever gender ya want. Highly suggestive on both Lucifer and Vox's parts.

Genre : Fluff, suggestive

A/n : this account has been doing so well lately and I just want to say thank you so much. I love every single comment you guys send in and the support is so appreciated. You're the reason I get the motivation to write these silly little stories so thank you.

Characters : alastor, Vox, lucifer

▢ alastor ⍋

- Sweet as cream -

"Al, can you pass me the cream?" You asked politely, stirring your coffee absentmindedly. Your eyes didn't lift from your book, too engrossed in the scene that was playing out.

Your boyfriend hummed, currently in the middle of his meal and looked at the cream sitting next to him," I'm not sure, darling. Can I?" He teased out, his ever-present grin stretching mischievously.

You blinked at his response and looked up from your book, raising an eyebrow at him," Well, I would like to think my lovely boyfriend isn't incompetent." You replied bluntly, a sweet tone to your voice as your head tilted to the side.

"Frankly? My wonderful partner is being rather rude at the moment and doesn't seem to be deserving of the cream!" He shot back just as sweetly.

"Oh-hoh? Is that right?" Your eye twitched, smile dropping ever so slightly," Well, perhaps I can show you just how rude I can be when you're banished to the couch, hm?"

"What a card to pull, my dear!" He placed his face in his hands, eyes sparkling with amusement and glee," I must really be pushing your pretty little buttons."

There was a small growl at the back of your throat but you were quick to push it down with a cough, but from Alastor's perked up ears and widening grin, he had heard you.

"Alastor, love of my life, how can I stop you from being a pain in my ass today?" You asked, making sure your tone was light with gentleness despite your foul language.

He let out his typical 'hm', his eyes narrowing in thought as one of his claws tapped his chin,"... A kiss may just suffice."

You blanched at him,"... are you that emotionally chaotic that you have to irritate me to request for a kiss?"

"..." He began to slowly push the cream towards the edge of the table, a challenging glint in his eyes.

His actions basically answered your question, however.

"Oh my-... Okay! Okay." You begrudgingly got up from your seat and walked around the table to your tall deer-man whilst he only watched you with a cute little sparkle in his eyes.

You reached a hand out gently, brushing a knuckle against his cheek before cupping it. The smile couldn't stop from spreading across your lips when you saw him lean into your loving touch. He's come so far where sudden touches are concerned and you've never been more proud.

You leaned down, smile still on your face and you took note of the prideful grin on Alastor's lips as he looked at your lips," Don't look so happy with yourself - you're being a scoundrel, yknow?"

"Oh dear, a scoundrel?" He breathed, pretending to be devastated at the revelation," Whatever can I do to get back into your good graces, my love?"

You leaned down, lips brushing his," Good question..." Your hand fell from his face and you brushed a thumb onto the cream before bringing the white treat to his lips, swiping it across his bottom one,"... Give me what I asked for from the beginning?"

And with that, Alastor closed the gap between you both, lips moulding together perfectly. You hummed into the kiss, cupping his face softly to deepen the kiss, your tongue swiping across his bottom lip to clean the cream off.

At this, the passionate kiss got all the more sweeter. Alastor's hands fell to your hips, kneading the flesh like dough as he focused on the feeling of your soft lips against his.

When you both pulled away for a break, you were left panting against eachothers lips. The red-haired demon smiled widely, eyes lidded," I trust that this has qwelled our little rivalry, hm?"

"I dunno..." you pecked his lips and gave him a teasing grin," You still seem like a scoundrel to me."

Alastor chuckled lowly, "Then let me remind you of how much of a gentleman I can be," dragging you into another sweet kiss.

▢ vox ᯤ

- underlying spice -

"Vox, you're- ah~... You're gonna be fuckin' late idiot," You grunted out as he nipped at your neck, the feeling of his teeth sending literal pulses of electricity through your veins.

He had you caged to his desk, chest pushing against yours. Your bodies were so close together that you could feel a low and pleasurable buzz between you both.

He groaned against your neck," You think I give a shit about meetings when I have you pressed against me like this?" His sharp teeth grazed your skin teasingly, but there was the underlying threat of breaking your skin with them," and you're sooo fuckin' pretty like this too... I'm offended you'd think I'd abandon you in a state like this, babe."

Your hands gripped onto his shirt, giving him a threatening undertone as well," I am not letting you back out of a meeting I've been planning for months just 'cause you wanna get your fucking dick wet." You gritted out, but still not pushing him away.

"You're so bratty today." He pulled from your neck to grin down at you crookedly, an almost lazy tilt to his eyes," only makes me want you more."

"Well, you don't get that privilege dipshit. You need to go. Now." You frowned up at him, tapping his screen with a clawed finger.

"Stop acting like you don't want me to get you off. We both know that's not fuckin' true." He deadpanned.

"I can just go to Val for help." You shrugged absentmindedly," No biggie."

There was a low growl from him as moved his hands to your thighs, lifting you onto his desk suddenly. You yelped from the action and stared on in shock and arousal.

"Stop fucking fighting me on this." He mumbled, leaning in close to your face as his eyes narrowed," as if Val couldn't compare to me- are you fucking shitting me?" He seemed genuinely offended at the notion," You're both power-bottoms, how would that even work?"

"I dunno..." you tried to gain the higher ground by playing with some lint on his suit," I could top, this one time..." you leaned close to his face, an unhinged glint in your eyes," Juuuust to piss. You. Off..."

Suddenly, Vox surged forwards, capturing your lips in his. Almost instantly, his tongue is shoved down your throat, the buzzing of electricity making you moan. You gripped onto his jacket desperately, wanting to deepen the kiss even further but he refused. He set the slow and erotic pace of the kiss, claw digging into your hips to try and control himself. His other hand entangled into your hair, tugging ever so slightly to shove his tongue further into your mouth for more exploration.

Red liquid drooled from his mouth, the same coming from you too as you gasped and moaned into this rough kiss. You could swear the buzzing coming from his tongue was turning your brain into mush, making you forget about your previous grievances and think about him, him, him.

When he pulled from you, trail of red saliva connecting your lips as you panted breathlessly.

"... You're such a whiny fucking baby about everything." You grumbled.

Vox only grinned maniacally, knowing that meant you had given in," and you're easy to push over the edge, baby."

To celebrate his accomplishment of getting out of a meeting to rail you instead, he played an applause sound and people cheering from his screen to really rub it in your face, grin widening at the sight of the twitch of a smile on your lips.

"Oh, shut up!" You laughed out before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss.

▢ lucifer morningstar ⚝

- taste of home -

"Hon, I'm happy for you and everything, but isn't this a little bit excessive?" You mumbled out, a look of concern on your face as you watched him run around his office like a headless chicken to find a thin paintbrush.

"Pffft- Whaaat? No!" He waved his hand dismissively and grinned like a madman as he tinkered away at a little duck, hand painting meticulously," this is the perfect birthday present for her!" He then looked at you from over his shoulder, giving you lidded eyes and a charming grin," just trust the process, pretty."

Your heart fluttered at the nickname and you huffed, giving into his wild ideas as usual. His wonderful mind was a force to be reckoned with, and when he has a plan then there's no stopping him.

"You've been painting ducks for the passed three hours, though." You pointed out and walked over to him when his back was turned, wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind. He didn't even react to your touch, continuing to paint the little ducky like it was his final mission in life.

But he did lean into your touch, however. Maybe he isn't a lost cause after all.

He didn't answer you, but you couldn't help but watch him. His hand moving methodically. You already knew what duck this was going to be, it was almost a perfect replica of Charlie.

But as a duck. Duh.

You smiled softly at the sight of it, watching for a minute or so before you leaned down to his neck, opening your mouth to whisper," Earth to Lou~..." you cooed out gently.

His shoulders tensed and his movements paused, a shiver running down his spine. He bit his lip and then gulped," y-yea-... ahem... yeah?" He could feel his cheeks growing hot at the press of your warm lips to the back of his neck.

"When are you gonna take a break?..." You hummed, trailing your kisses across his neck.

He set the duck down slowly, your affection having a grip on him,"... Now seems like a good time." He hummed back, head tilting to the side to give you more access.

"What a good answer~" you breathed out prasingly, lips sucking a little love bite to the back of his neck which made him moan lowly.

"Y-you're killing me here, beautiful..."

You chuckled," Kind of the idea, hon." Tapping his shoulder, you kissed his cheek," how about you turn around, hm? You can make it up to me with a kiss."

"Make... make it up to you?"

"Make up for ignoring me."

He smirked and turned around in your arms, wrapping his own around your waist, chin resting on your chest as he looked up at you," Oh yeah? My pretty lady wanted attention, huh?" He teased out gently with that heart-warmingly charming grin.

"No no no. You don't get to turn this on me, you tease." You grunted out, brows furrowing as you tapped his forehead.

"And why not?" He challenged, grin never falling.

"... because."

"What groundbreaking reasoning!" He laughed and then pulled you into his lap. A hand trailed up and down your spine lightly, the other moving to pull you closer into him by the waist," If you wanted attention, you could have just said, honey."

"You would have won, then."

"Who says I'm not winning right now?"

You pressed your forehead against his, eyes narrowing," Me."

"... and your word is final, yeah?" His amusement was clear," The King of Hell's word is worthless compared to yours?"

You giggled," correct."

He huffed out a breath of amusement and brought one of your hands to his lips, licking your wrist with a sultry glint to his eyes," Oh, wow... then I guess I really have to step my game up then, eh?"

Watching him with warm cheeks, you nodded with a gentle smile to your lips, "You do."

He brought you close to his face by cupping the back of your neck, pressing a gentle yet passionate kiss to your lips. His tongue immediately licking your bottom lip for permission to enter. You opened your mouth for him, humming lowly in pleasure as your hands ran through his hair.

His lips were warm and soft, they felt like home. The gentleness balanced out with the dominance and sent the perfect shivers throughout your body.

His touch to your back was soothing, claws sliding up and down; drawing patterns, spelling out your name and then his and then drawing a heart around it.

Fuck, he was so cheesy but it only made your love grow more.

#hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x y/n #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #alastor x reader #vox x y/n #vox x you #vox x reader #im down-bad for lucifer 24 fucking 7

[freedomfireflies]

I Love You*

Summary: The second part to Yellow* and One for the Money*

The one where you tell Mr. Styles you love him and you wonder if he'll say it back.

Word Count: 3k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, blow job, multiple orgasms, brief Daddy kink, Sir kink

I love you.

Three little words that feel so big in such a small room. 

Mr. Styles remains still. Unmoving. So quiet, you wonder if you actually said the words aloud or if you only thought them.

But you can feel his heart racing. Can hear the subtle hitch in his breath as the seconds tick by. And you know, undoubtedly, that he heard you.

You clear your throat. “You don’t…you don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know.”

There’s another long lull between your admission and his response. He shifts in your arms before finally he finally nods once.

And that suffices as his reply.

Truth be told, you feel relieved. You aren’t even sure why you said it at all, much less now. And after such an intimate scene. Especially when you knew he most likely wouldn’t say it back.

But you don’t blame him for that. Mr. Styles has never been the overly romantic, affectionate type. You don’t expect that to change just for you. You’re happy with the relationship you have. You like that you stay at his apartment more than your own. You like that he dedicates his free time to you. And you like that you work together and play together.

He’s more than just your partner and your boss. He’s…yours.

“Sir?” you whisper, and you feel his hand tighten around yours. “Are you all right?”

He nods again. Quickly. Strained. “I’m fine, Peach. Are you?”

You nod, too. “Mhm. I’m better now. Promise.” A beat. “Could we start the scene again?”

He lets out a sigh and finally looks up to catch your eye. “Maybe later. We’ll see.”

You pout and feel that anxious twist in your stomach return. You don’t want to end this moment on a sour note. The note where you had to safe word and make him stop only to tell him you love him and surely freak him out. You want to go back. Start it all over again. Do it right.

He notices your frown and tilts his head. “Peach,” he warns. “Don’t.”

“But—”

“I said we’ll see,” he repeats sternly. “If you’re good, I’ll consider it. But if you want to argue with me, you can sit here, achy and dripping, with nobody to touch you.”

You bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.” He pats your hip. “I’ve got a few more emails to answer before dinner. If I go, will you be all right until I’m done?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He takes hold of your chin. Firm. “I want your honesty.”

“You have it.”

He hesitates. There’s a tension here, between you. An unspoken strain and an edge you’d give anything to smooth out.

You can tell he wants to resolve it. He’s a problem solver. It’s in his nature to fix things. And that’s how this whole arrangement was started in the first place.

But how can he fix what he knows he broke?

He kisses your cheek. Quickly. Gently. “Be good while I’m gone.”

And with that, he leaves you. He turns off the camera, puts his clothes back on, and disappears into his home office.

You spend the next several hours trying not to stare at his closed door. Or thinking about how it ended. What you said. You delete the footage off the SD card and vow to never speak of this day again.

He feels so far away, even if it’s only a few hundred feet. But there’s an ocean between you now and you are lost in his sea. 

Dinner is good. You order Chinese and it’s delivered right as he’s exiting his office for the night. You do your best to put things back to the way they were before. You talk—a lot—and he listens. He’s quiet. Nodding along without much commentary. He picks at his food and you know something is still on his mind.

You hate it.

He cleans up while you go take a shower. You take your time, allowing the water to wash away your regret. Make you clean again. Until each mistake has been swept down the drain.

The two of you will be okay. You have to be.

When you get out, you find him on the bed. He’s got his reading glasses on and a book in his hand and he looks…

Ethereal.

You’ve always been attracted to him. How could you not be, when he has a jaw like that and abs that could grate cheese? But somehow, he looks even better like this—relaxed. At peace. He’s still wearing his fancy slacks and white button up. But the sleeves have been rolled to his elbows and he’s left the first few buttons undone. 

You step further into the bedroom and he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s engrossed in his novel, glasses perched on the tip of his perfect nose as he flips to the next page. And you smile. Your insides already aching as you crawl onto the end of the mattress and allow your towel to fall away.

When the bed dips, he glances up. Briefly. He notices the feral look in your eye and the way you’re moving toward him. He knows what you want and thankfully, he doesn’t deny you.

He looks back to his book. “How was your shower?”

“Good,” you murmur. You reach for his belt and slip it through each loop until you can toss it toward the floor.

He’s quiet.

“How’s your book?” you ask and he hums.

“It’s all right. Not entirely helpful but I like the subject.”

You grin. You adore when he sounds studious. “That’s good.” You pull his zipper down and reach inside his briefs. 

Still, he doesn’t so much as flinch. He reads and he pretends as though you aren’t currently dragging your palm along his hardening cock. He pretends your tits aren’t mere inches from his grasp and he pretends that he can’t see the way you’ve already begun to drip.

You take him in your mouth. Your tongue is wet and ready and you swing your leg over his thigh in order to brace yourself against his lap and take him fully. He’s large. Incredibly large and you forget that sometimes until you feel the way he curves down your throat. 

You pull back and spit only to watch the way it drips down his length until you can smear it around the way you want.

“Peach,” you hear him say and you look up. He moves the book aside to see you. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” 

He reaches down and pinches your cheek. “Watch it,” he warns and he’s strict but somehow kind. “I thought I told you to wait.”

“I did wait,” you argue before sucking on his tip. You pop off and lick your lips. “All day. Couldn’t wait any longer.”

“Hm.” He moves his hand to the back of your head and tugs you away. “I’m not sure I should let you.”

“…why?” You straighten up. “I’m okay now. I want to do this. And you never got to finish—”

“Peach—”

“—which I know isn’t the point,” you amend quickly, remembering what he said before. “I know. But I want to make you finish. I want to make you feel good. Especially after what you did for me.”

He frowns now. Sighs. Takes off his glasses and sets down his book. “I’m your dominant and your partner. It is my job to take care of you. I don’t do it because I want something in return and my kindness is not transactional. I care about you. I want you to be okay. Always.”

I care about you isn’t exactly an I love you but it still makes you smile. Really, really big.

“I know,” you whisper. You squeeze his thigh. “But I feel…edged.”

He smirks. “Do you?”

“Mhm.” You dip back down and drag your tongue up from his balls. You notice his jaw tick. “And if you really want to take care of me and make sure I’m okay…you’ll cum in my mouth.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He considers this, fingers tapping over the hard cover of his book. Then, he nods once, and slips his glasses back on. “All right. I’ll let you have your way just this once. But once you’re through, you’re to get into this bed and go to sleep. Is that understood?”

You nod eagerly. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl. Go ahead.”

With that, you continue your sucking and fondling while he continues reading his novel. The bedroom is eerily silent except for the loud echo of your wet, enthusiastic lapping at the large cock sitting proudly on your tongue. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if he won’t give you your own orgasm before bed, you’re content to have him just like this.

It doesn’t take long until he’s twitching in your mouth. He doesn’t look at you or watch the way your cheeks hollow or the way his balls look in your pretty hands, but you know he’s desperate to. You can tell by the way he turns the page. The way he grips the book and tries incredibly hard not to rip it in half as he moves to the next chapter. 

You don’t slow. You keep going, even as his legs flex beneath you. As his chest takes in labored breaths. You want to get him there and he subtly nudges his leg further into your cunt to feel your arousal smear across his skin. 

You do everything you know he likes, even though the camera is off. You suck and squeeze and give him everything you know he likes. Because this performance is just for him. The way you moan, the way you swallow, the way you bob and take more of him than you think you ever have before.

You’re his good girl. His investment, his toy, his.

And moments before he finally releases himself all down your throat, he tosses the book aside, grabs a fistful of your hair, and yanks you off.

“Get on,” he grits and tugs you closer.

You don’t need to be told twice. You scoot forward and line him up just so before he takes hold of your hips and helps you sink down. Things move quickly and he doesn’t have the patience to wait any longer. 

And it’s beautiful, this moment. The way he stretches you open. And even if there’s a slight burn from the intrusion of his thick cock, you revel in the pain. Both of you groaning the moment you feel it.

And you know he won’t be able to hold off much longer.

“How did it taste, Peach, hm?” he asks as he fucks up into you. “How did it feel to have me in your mouth?”

“Good,” you pant. You claw at his curls. “So good, Sir—”

“Yeah?” He slaps his hand against your ass and you mewl. “Like to take my cock, don’t you? Like to be my dirty little slut—"

“Yes—”

“Like to feel me down your throat…have me cum all over your tongue.”

You make too many noises and he reaches up to pull your lip with his teeth. He kisses you and groans into your mouth and this is what sex should be. Rough and hard but filled with adoration.

“What a fucking whore,” he groans. He tugs at your hips. Watches the bulge in your belly with every thrust. “Begging to suck my cock, wanting to make Daddy feel good…guess I don’t give your mouth enough things to do, hm?”

You shake your head and wilt in his hold. He rarely refers to himself with that nickname and hearing it now almost tips you over.

“So fucking wet,” he exhales and you look down to watch with him. “S’fucking pathetic, isn’t it? Didn’t even have to touch you to have you dripping.”

He’s right. He always is.

He pinches your clit. Takes your nipple in his mouth and lets his large hands scratch down your back—your shoulders blades, your spine, your ass. And you have never felt safer than here in this moment with him.

“Cum,” he says, and he nips at your skin until it’s littered in marks and memories.

“Cum,” he whispers, and he pulls on your hair and wraps it around his fist to bare your throat to his teeth.

“Cum,” he pleads, and he kisses you—hard—until the room is spinning and you finally let go.

You unravel together. A collection of moans and cries and tangled limbs as you make a mess of each other. And you don’t care—about any of it. About what was said earlier, about what wasn’t said, about the way he looked when you said it.

You cling to his strong shoulders and you kiss him hard and you indulge in the feel of him dripping from your cunt.

But he’s not through. He pulls you off his cock and flips you onto your knees until your ass in the air.

You feel his tongue. Dragging up your cunt, tasting the remains of his cum, your cum, everything. He spanks you—hard. Paints his mark across your skin and leaves it there just so he can admire it.

“Say it,” he hisses and you suck in a sharp breath.

“Wha…what?”

“Say it,” he says. He spanks you again and nips at your pussy. “Say you love me.”

You clutch the duvet and your thighs are shaking. Your mind feels fuzzy. “I…”

Another slap to your ass and you’re overstimulated and wildly sensitive. He fucks his tongue into your dripping hole and grunts at the way you keen and you’ve never felt this kind of beautiful confusion.

“Say it.” He holds your thighs open and nearly suffocates himself as he mouths at you. “Fucking tell me you love me. Tell me again.”

You shake your head. You don’t understand. “Harry…”

Wrong. He slips his fingers inside and fucks his cum back into you. Fast. Lewd. Loud. “Come on, Peach. I know you want to. Know you do….so say it.”

And maybe this is a trick. Maybe this is some cruel, sadistic game just to make you lose but you can’t think straight when he’s this close. When he’s bending your body to his salacious intentions and treating you like a toy.

“I love you,” you whisper. You screw your eyes shut. “I do, I love you, Sir.”

He curses. Groans. “Again.”

“I love you.” You fall onto the bed stomach first but he doesn’t stop. He flips you around and he looks at you as he eats you. “I love you, Mr. Styles.”

His lashes flutter. You reach for his hair and tug it with your fist and he moans into your cunt before drinking you down. Spitting on your pussy just to smear it around and thrust it back into you.

You arch. “Shit, I love you—I—”

You cum again and he enjoys every second of it. He pulls you as close to his face as he can get you and lives inside the sound of your strained whimpers.

And when you finish, he leaves your clit with a satisfied pop and licks his lips. You watch him crawl up your body until he’s settled atop your chest and you smile lazily as he reaches up to run his hand down your cheek.

“My sweet Peach,” he whispers and kisses you hard. You taste everything. You taste him. You taste the desperation woven alongside his tongue. He kisses you until you can’t breathe and he only stops so he can stare at you a little longer.

You brush your fingers through the damp curls along the back of his neck. “That was fun.”

He’s quiet. Studying you closely and you feel as though you’re being graded on a test you didn’t know you were taking. 

Then, he murmurs, “I don’t say it.”

Your heart skips. You don’t have to ask what he means. “I…I know. It’s okay. I don’t expect you—”

“I don’t say it because I’m afraid I can’t live up to it,” he continues. He ignores you. “Because the last time I did, I couldn’t deliver on what it meant. My love didn’t look the same as hers did. I said it. And she still left.”

Your other hand finds his shirt. You trail your touch over the exposed skin of his chest and you feel the way his heart races. “I know.”

His brows furrow. “I want to say it,” he says softly. “I want to. For you. Because I do. And I don’t want this to feel unfair—”

“It doesn’t,” you assure him. “I promise. I…I figured you wouldn’t say it back and I was okay with that. Because it doesn’t change the fact that I do.”

Another beat. “I’m worried you didn’t mean it.”

“What?”

He sighs and sweeps his thumb along your jaw. “You’d been anxious, and you were scared. You said none of your other partners had ever been kind to you in moments like that, and…sex is intimate. It can change the chemistry in your brain and maybe…maybe you didn’t mean it—”

“I did.” You grab his face and you make him listen. “Harry, I meant it. I still mean it. And I’ll mean it tomorrow, too. And the next day. And the next.”

His expression softens.

“And I meant it long before today. I wanted to tell you tons of times and I didn’t because…I don’t know. I didn’t want to scare you,” you admit and you both smile. “It is a big word. But it’s just a word. It means nothing without action. And even if you can’t say it, you show it every day. And that’s all I could really want.”

He dips down and nuzzles his nose against yours. “I don’t deserve you, Peach.”

“No,” you tease. “No, you don’t.”

You kiss again and his body feels good against yours. His heart feels good against yours.

Then, he exhales, "I love you."

And you don't say anything. But you smile. Because you know everything he's giving up just to offer you what you want to hear.

Minutes go by before you finally change the subject and say, "You know, I kind of wish we'd been recording all that. That would have been some great content."

He laughs, relieved, and the sound is so incredibly beautiful. 

“Next time,” he says and you grin as he holds you closer. “Tonight…your love belongs to me.”

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY CUTIES!!! Granted, this wasn't exactly a Valentine's blurb BUT LISTEN IT WAS CLOSE ENOUGH!!!!! ASLFJSF

I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH and hope you're having the best day! No matter what it looks like or who it's with ♥️

~ Full One for the Money Masterlist

~ Full Masterlist

Credit for the incredible and perfectly peachy dividers to @firefly-graphics!!

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @kathb59 @iamjustaholeforyousir @harrystylesfan2686 @cherryluvhobi @caynonmoondreams @daphnesutton @ilovec0lbybr0ck @definegirlfriendsx @allthelovehes @amiets2 @nega-omega @sucker-4-angst @hsgucci94 @gills-lounge @kennedy-brooke @avasversion @stylesfever @saturnheartz

#harry #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan #harry edward styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #softdom!harry #smut #ceo!harry #ceorry #one for the money harry #harry and peach #harry styles one shot #blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #fluff #valentine's blurb!

[noneorother]

The grand unified theory of Good Omens S2 hangs on - you guessed it - a double meaning (and art). *Part 4*

Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l Part 4 l Part 5 l The End?

This is major spoilers for season 3 territory. You have been warned. I'm also going to split this into parts because wow, I have so many ✨Clues✨! Friends, we have arrived at the prestige! Metatron come at me bro, catch these hands. Oh wait you can't, you always have your hands in your pockets...

People smarter than me have talked all about Aziraphale's magician outfits on this show, so I won't steal their thunder. Suffice it to say, The Metatron is wearing a weirdly dark coat and tie over his whole outfit. Which gives him a very only a white floating head look, but also keeps in the theme of ✨I am a magician✨. He's here to perform a trick!

I also won't talk a lot about him in the coffee shop because that's been done already. If we have learned anything from part 3, analyzing the coffee to death is what we are supposed to be doing, because He is distracting everyone with a benign object that we can inspect. So while he's waving this coffee around in the shop going "SEE I KNOW HOW EARTH WORKS" he's also doing something fascinating: Checking to see who recognizes him.

Weirdly, even though Aziraphael saw him in season one, and the angels all work with him, no one does right away. EXCEPT for Saraquiel and Crowley, who just saw his face not in person, but in a video tape of sorts up in heaven at Gabriel's trial by farce. And then something funny happens. Saraquiel is scared shitless and pretends to have 'forgotten' like Michael, but Crowley admits loud and proud that he does. Then Uriel gives THE BIGGEST SIDEYE I have ever seen on screen to Michael, as in "You don't recognize our boss? I am very afraid for what that means."

As far as I can understand, this is the reason the Metatron is here : "Are we in the version of events where I lose?" And the answer The Metatron gets after the question is : We are in the version of events where I have severely fucked with Michael, sort of fucked with the other angels, I have fucked with Aziraphale, and Crowley has seen me already in heaven. Now we're missing a lot of information as to WHY this specific answer is good for The Metatron, and how much Saraquiel knows, but it seems like he interprets this as an "I haven't lost yet, and I can still do my trick".

So now here we are, at the most important part of the episode, in my (and Aziraphale's) opinion. THE double meaning.

This line is insane. On the surface we have meaning 1) The Metatron is scolding over-zealous angels for meddling in this affair, and over reaching with their power, especially threatening to use the book of life on people. He's the good guy! But under the surface we have meaning 2) I HAVE THE BOOK OF LIFE and I have been using it on everybody in this room. If I don't get my way this time around, I will edit you guys again, and you will have done the right thing. And with that admission, Aziraphale severely twigs and becomes very afraid. From then on his voice shakes and he babbles, and he has trouble looking the Metatron in the eye. I'm willing to bet that this is the moment Aziraphale realizes what The Metatron just admitted: I am creating a version of reality as we speak where I change you and Crowley (and everyone else) so that you lose to me. A terrified Aziraphael goes off with The Metatron to have a chin wag. Now here's the trick.

We've already established that Maggie and Nina are here as stage assistants to The Metatron, so they need time to work on Crowley alone. If they talk to A/C together, like they would have without The Metatron's appearing in the scene before, better communication might have happened between them. He made Aziraphale disappear from the scene!

This does NOT look like the face of someone getting good news. We never heard what the details were besides inviting Crowley to the job promotion, so who knows what he threatened him with, but

This looks like the face of someone caught in a trap. So we are now seeing the prestige! We don't need that coffee anymore, that cup is GONE BABY. Aziraphale has been removed from the Nina/Maggie confession like a dove, and placed in The Metatron's dark coat pocket. Now he just needs to make our angel reappear in the scene the assistants have prepared for him and let him fail, thus completing the trick (uhg I hate it. So cruel).

I'm going to turn the final 15 into it's own post because this is already very long. Let's skip it for now, but we know our lovebirds get separated by heaven, and Aziraphale leaves. The Metatron breathes a huge sigh of relief in the elevator as he thinks his trick has worked, and he has won.

So it's finished now, and there's seemingly no way out. Aziraphale now knows what The Metatron meant when he communicated "I am creating a version of reality as we speak where I change you and Crowley and everything else so that you lose to me."

BUT! ARE YOU READY FOR THIS SHIT? BECAUSE IT HIT ME LIKE LIQUID JET FUEL. And I think it hits Aziraphale right here, (when he makes the creepy face after being hit with a beam of light i.e. realization)

That means that in the original version of events before all the edits, Crowley & Aziraphale won.

------

If you've gotten this far, thanks so much for reading. I'd love to hear what you thought, or even reblog it with your ✨Clues✨! Want to read more about the timey wimey business that we're gonna see in season 3, and why all this changes the final 15? Well I have *part 5* coming in just a bit. Parts 5 and The End are here! Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l Part 4 l Part 5 l The End?

#good omens meta #good omens season two #art director talks good omens #go meta #good omens 2 #go season 2 #go2 #go3 #good omens prime #good omens s2 #aziraphale and crowley #aziraphale x crowley #crowley and aziraphale

[yokohamapound]

BSD Characters Catch You Reading Smut

No one asked for this, but I just had the idea floating around in my head and it was too good to pass up. <3

Characters: Edogawa Ranpo, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, Dazai Osamu, Kunikida Doppo, Yosano Akiko, Nakahara Chuuya, Fyodor Dostoevsky

Contents: smut references

Edogawa Ranpo

It doesn't matter how good you think your poker face is. Ranpo knows. You've spent years training yourself by reading fanfiction in public and using an e-reader to mask what you're doing, but there will always be a tell.

He pops his lollipop out of his mouth and smirks over at you from his desk while you're trying to read a few pages on your lunch break. 

"Whatcha readin'?" he asks, coy.

You take a moment to compose yourself, pulling your gaze away from the scintillating, graphic descriptions written in the text, and glance across at him. There’s something about his smile that makes you unaccountably nervous. Ranpo might act like a kid most of the time, but there’s a hint of knowing in his eyes that forcibly reminds you this man is a full grown adult, and far too perceptive for his—and your—own good.

“A…uh…romance novel.”

Perhaps if you confess to something mild like reading romance novels at work, then he won’t go after the big fish. But you know as soon as the words leave your mouth that it’s a mistake. Ranpo always goes after the big fish, not the small fry.

“Uh-huuuh.” He draws out the word, grinning at you, one green eye opens a sliver. “Good sex scene?”

Across the office, Kunikida spits out his coffee over his paperwork.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

As much as Akutagawa talks like a Victorian orphan and likes to collect antiques, we don’t know much about his reading tastes, if he has any at all. Don’t forget he grew up in the slums, so he’s had little education, if any, before coming to the Port Mafia. After which, it was probably left up to Dazai, god forbid.

Suffice it to say that if he does enjoy reading anything, it’s probably morbid Gothic horror, riddled with existential dread and people dying young, haunted by the ghosts of their misdeeds. So, Poe’s stuff, basically. 

All this is to preface the fact that I don’t think Akutagawa even realises there is such a thing as smut novels. He’s probably aware of porn, but dirty writing? Not something he’s ever bothered to consider in his relatively narrow purview. 

He doesn’t really think twice when he sees you reading, since it’s a familiar-enough sight. It might be a book in your hands or just some text you’re scrolling through on your phone. It’s only when he notices your rapt attention to the text that he starts to get curious.

You’re so engrossed you don’t notice him loom over your shoulder until you hear his breath catch, a cough spluttering in his throat.

“What…what are you reading!?” he demands to know, rearing back from the book like it’s going to bite him. 

Dazai Osamu

Oh god.

It’s very hard to hide anything from Dazai, but you’ve been trying to keep your spicy book collection a secret because once he finds out about something he becomes an incorrigible tease about it, and this would be no different. 

You’ve almost mastered the art of hiding your fanfiction tab when he walks past by using the old (ALT + TAB) manoeuvre, Or by flipping to an innocuous part of your book when he walks into the room, but this strategy has backfired. Because Dazai sees all and knows all, and the sneaky little bastard has noticed your shifty behaviour. He’s been watching for a while, waiting for his moment to pounce. 

So there you are, innocently reading your not-so-innocent novel on the couch, perhaps even on a break at the office, and suddenly there’s a presence behind you, warm breath against your ear.

“‘Her legs quivered like a newborn foal’s,’” Dazai narrates, his voice breathy. “‘Lord Fondezglimmer’s hands brushed up the insides of her thighs, her skin as soft as flower petals, reaching for—’”

You snap the book shut. “Shut up, shut up!”

Dazai is unrepentant. Even as you get up, he follows you around the room, hand over his heart, eyes glittering, repeating the scene word for word. 

“‘Primrose’s secret flower was his to taste! As he lay her down upon the bed of handwoven silk, her kirtle rose to her hips to reveal—!’” 

“Shut up, Dazai!”

Kunikida Doppo

The main book Kunikida is interested in is his notebook. He does, however, have a list of well-lauded self-help books, memoirs, and other edifying literary works that he intends to check out just as soon as he has the time. He admires you, actually, and how much time you devote to improving your mind through reading. He occasionally goes so far as to ask you for recommendations, and you have to scramble to recommend something that won’t make his glasses shatter in shock.

Little does he know what you’re really up to.

It’s only when he finds himself at a rare loose end that he finally makes his way over to your bookcase and leafs through some of the volumes. He goes for the last one he saw you reading. It seems innocuous. The cover is a pastel purple with swirly writing. A romantic saga of some sort? Well, he can indulge a chapter or two, just to see what you’re interested in. 

Ten minutes later, Kunikida is sitting on the edge of his seat, gripping the book so hard it looks like he’s about to tear it in half. His face is scarlet behind his glasses, his eyes hidden by the glare on the lenses. His hair is practically standing on end. By the time you find him, he’s as wooden as a statue.

“Ah, got curious, did you?” you ask, amused.

“...this is…” Kunikida starts. “It’s…”

“Erotica,” you inform him, tugging the book from his nerveless hands. “Poor thing. If you were curious I could have given you something a little softer to ease yourself in.”

“No! I’m good. Thank you very much. I’ve seen…quite enough.”

He’s lying. 

Yosano Akiko

Fairly sure that most of Yosano’s books are either medical textbooks or lurid true crime memoirs, complete with grisly photos of murder scenes and autopsies. She reads and rereads those until the covers are falling apart. She probably also reads thrillers and a little bit of horror. Like the Dexter novels, though she scoffs at the implausibility of some of the murders and gore.

Naturally, when she sees you curled up on the couch, your nose buried in a book, she wants to know what it’s about. It doesn’t matter how discreet the cover is, or if you’re reading on your phone/tablet, because she’ll just plop down and start asking you questions, or pause to read over your shoulder.

“What are you reading, you little pervert?” she asks, leaning on your shoulder. 

Her commentary is lowkey hilarious.

“Oh, my~” she teases, before leaning and reading further. “...that’s not biologically possible, but still the concept is kinda hot.”

“Anything more than like eight inches isn’t going to fit inside, you know that right?”

“Ooh, he’s choking her? Turn to the next page. What? No, I won’t go find my own filth to read.”

She does borrow a few of your titles, though her tastes always trend towards darker romance.

Nakahara Chuuya

As much as I love Chuuya, he doesn’t strike me as the type to spend all his time sitting around reading lofty tomes of high-brow literature. He’s a live-in-the-moment kind of guy. While he might pick up the odd book on the recommendation of people whose taste he likes, he enjoys poetry more, or short, punchy novels. If a book you enjoyed gets turned into a movie, he’ll go see it with ya.

Thus, he’s never been introduced to the secret world of spicy novels, from the softcore porn of the 1980s to the roaring trade of indie authors putting out entire sagas of smut today. Totally clueless. Didn’t even realise it was a thing, honestly. His idea of a romance novel is one with a woman in a fancy dress and a shirtless man on the cover, where the scene fades to black before they do it.

Poor, innocent Chuuya.

He just thinks you look cute and cosy when you’re all snuggled up with your books. It doesn’t cross his mind to wonder what you’re reading unless you laugh aloud or gasp or something. Imagine his surprise when he glances your way one day and words jump out at him from the page. Dirty words. And when they’re strung together, the context is even smuttier. He grabs the book from your unsuspecting hands and holds it over your head (or floats it if you’re taller than him, lmao.)

“Whatcha readin’, you little pervert?” he asks, a grin growing on his face. 

“Give it back!”

“Nah, don’t think I will. Is this what you’re readin’ all the time?” He flips through the book, whistling. “Damn, you’re a dirty little thing, aren’t ya?”

Fyodor Dostoevsky

If you think Fyodor somehow doesn’t already know everything you purchase and everything you browse online, then you are a sweet, innocent creature and should be protected from all that is evil and unjust in the world.

But let’s say you’re a little sneak and somehow manage to get your hands on some spicy books without your dearest darling Fedya knowing. You can certainly read them in the long hours that he is away working and perhaps even find a way to store them discreetly on the bookshelf. 

(I doubt you’d be forbidden to read those kinds of books, but it’s still a little embarrassing for you and you might prefer your smirking husband didn’t know about it.)

Ah, but you can only keep secrets from him for so long. One day he abruptly appears behind you. You didn’t expect him home so early, didn’t even know he was coming in, but then there’s just a pale hand reaching over your shoulder to stop you turning the page, and a low, accented voice in your ear.

“Not yet, my darling. I’m not done with this page.”

You yelp, flinging the book across the room, and Fyodor stands up, smiling down at you. He tuts at your treatment of the book, picking it up and dusting it off before he turns it over to look at the cover. His smirk is practically feline, satisfied and amused in equal measure.

“My, my, myshka~ I had no idea that this is what excites you so much.”

#yokohamapound #bungou stray dogs #bsd #edogawa ranpo #akutagawa ryuunosuke #dazai osamu #kunikida doppo #yosano akiko #nakahara chuuya #fyodor dostoevsky bsd #bsd smut

[bougiebutchbinch]

thinking again about Steddyhands where Izzy is a really fucking bad sub who has never read The New Bottoming Book

He never ever safewords because he sees himself as the replaceable third wheel in their relationship. The prospect (fuelled only by his own insecurities) of Stede and Ed deciding he's too boring and going off together without him is WAY worse than anything they could do in a scene. He's so used to pushing himself beyond his own limits, he no longer can really tell where they are, and just dissociates during sex (not in a fun subspace way). He pretends to hate aftercare and prefer doing stuff by himself post-scene, so Ed and Stede won't realise how fucked up he gets in the drop and blame themselves. We're talking the full trying-to-micromanage-the-emotions-of-people-he-cares-about-by-making-choices-for-them-at-the-expense-of-himself character flaw.

Meanwhile Ed and Stede are like. 'He always begs for more and says we can fuck him harder but like. We have limits too? We want to satisfy him, but hurting him so much is kinda making us upset and uncomfortable :c And we want to give aftercare! Obviously we have conflicting needs and this relationship isn't going to work."

So, after much miserable discussion (because they genuinely do like the little fucker) they tell Izzy their sexual relationship isn't working out due to simple incompatibility.

Izzy, pathetic affection-starved dog-man that he is, snaps. He starts ugly-crying and yelling that he does SO MUCH for them and they NEVER APPRECIATE IT and HE DOESN'T EVEN LIKE THE STUFF THEY DO TOGETHER BUT HE DOES IT FOR THEm BECAUSE THEY LIKE IT and it's STILL NOT ENOUGH FOR THEM TO GIVE A SHIT ABOUT HIM, it's NEVER ENOUGH, so SURE, they can just break up, FINE, drop him off at the next port and they'll never see him again -

Stede and Ed are just like. Dude. Dude, what the fuck? What do you mean you've never liked the stuff we do to you??? Buddy...

Anyway, it ends with Stede resolving to actually reassure Izzy more that he's not gonna get dumped on a whim, Ed crying in the corner because he fucked up and hurt Izzy again (although....... this time, it's absolutely caused by miscommunication on Izzy's part as well), and Izzy getting a stern talk from Lucius on the subject of 'it's kinda cruel to not tell your doms when you want to stop, because they genuinely care for you and want it to be good for you, and consent for that is really important on both sides'

To which Izzy falls down the '...wait, they actually care for me?' -> 'oh fuck I fucked up again' -> 'they would be better off without me' pipeline in 0.5 seconds flat and makes plans to sneak sadly off the ship at the next port

Obviously, Lucius is sat up waiting for him the night they dock, perched on a barrel, arms crossed and tapping his foot. The moment he sees Izzy skulking for the gangplank with his ditty bag over his shoulder, he yells 'BITCH DID YOU LISTEN TO A WORD I SAID??? Get the fuck BACK in that bedroom and TALK TO YOUR BOYFRIENDS before I HOGTIE YOU and drag you back in there myself!'

And Izzy is so Shooketh he can't even say 'I'd like to see you fucking try'

And then there's lots of teary resolutions from all of them to do better and communicate more

Suffice to say, the first time Izzy actually uses his safeword Stede and Ed are DELIGHTED and just SHOWER him with love and praise

#steddyhands #izzy hands #ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #ed teach #:puts Izzy in a mason jar and shakes him:

[celaenaeiln]

Heck speaking of that last ask, whose to say even for Dick’s more professional and cordial moments with those outside his family or closest allies, whose to say those aren’t a front to mask his more serious and strategic cunning to through those other people off guard if they’re suspected of doing bad?

I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ASKED THAT BECAUSE YOU'RE SPOT ON!!!!

This actually happens in canon but this time it's within the family.

In Batman and Robin Eternal the whole Batfamily is forced to a clean up a lethal mess that Bruce wasn't able to solve during his and Dick's days. Their opponent is a woman named "Mother" for which she is aptly named because her brilliance and manipulation were so high that Bruce was forced to admit defeat, unable to deal with her.

During the investigation, the rest of the batfamily is blissfully unaware of Tim's actions, histories, and secrets-except Dick.

While leaving the rest of the family in the dark to avoid raising suspicions, he goes to get some answers.

Of course he would never betray his family's trust without some evidence.

While Jason and Stephanie are busy yelling at each other, Tim quietly sneaks away to answer a call by "Mother." Dick is at the Drake's while this is happening thus indicating that both Dick and Tim have their own share of secrets and battle plans.

He asks questions about Tim to his parents as if he's never met Tim before. Someone should get this man an Oscar.

Of course everything goes to hell when an operative of Mother's shows up and starts firing at Dick. Tim's mom utters a codeword that isolates her and Jack and also notifies Tim. Dick neutralizes his opponent.

And then Tim shows up.

"It's your secrets, Tim. I respected your privacy. Never looked too close, until that became a luxury I couldn't afford...I thought you weren't one of Mother's children. Hoped you weren't. But I had to know."

While Tim is rightfully hurt, but the thing is-they can't trust anyone right now because Mother, their enemy, is inseparable from the batfamily. She gets into people's heads and uses them as operatives over their entire lifetimes from childhood to adulthood. And first and foremost, Dick is a detective. It's ingrained into him to identify any threat and act accordingly.

This scene is extremely important because Bruce was almost killed by Mother and Dick loves Bruce. For his part Bruce almost killed their world just so Dick could live and reversely, Dick would do anything to make sure Bruce was safe.

But here's where Dick's manipulation and cheerful demeanor come into play. The batfamily has no idea how good Dick is at manipulating people.

When Dick runs off to do this, they only say

They have no idea.

Dick never does anything without a plan, a backup, and a safety net. The only mistake in their understanding is that while they think that Dick looks for a safety net second, they don't know that Dick's already created his own net and the one they see is the one Dick tossed out to his allies when he needs them to catch him.

Even now, Tim only found out because his mom activated the alarms in his house. If Dick's enemy hadn't blasted in and opened fire at him then it's suffice to say that everyone would be none the wiser about his little side quest.

I don't think the batfamily will ever realize how cunning he is. They see him as a kind older brother who is too adherent to Bruce's rules. Afterwards Jason makes fun of Tim in an older brother way by implying if he's mad at his mommy lol.

The DC vs Vampires and why every single member of the family was blindsided was because they underestimated him and never expected it of him. That's how good of a manipulator Dick is and that is why they will never know.

Tim once said Dick was "ranting and raving" in Arkham during Future State but for someone who had supposedly lost his mind, he still was the reason they defeated the government and came out on top. Future State: Nightwing is a peak example of Dick's genius when it comes to controlling people even if it seems like lunacy from the outside.

Everyone sees him as the nice one and Dick is the nice one of the family but when his family's life comes into danger he will unearth any secrets that he let you have in order to keep them safe.

So basically he'll let you do anything: keep secrets, lie to him, ignore him, but if you endanger his family he is coming for you because as the song lyrics goes-

"I may be next to you but you don't know I'm undercover."

And that is what makes his character so excellent. The greatest spy and threat the good has ever had.

This is my favorite personality trait of his because he's the James Bond and Mata Hari of DC.

#everyone wants a piece of him but they will never know him #asks #manipulative dick grayson #cl paladin of nerd fandom65 asks

[soapskies]

Could I request a yandere nolanverse scarecrow with a reader who is a patient at Akrham. Maybe reader has anger or trust issues and only interacts to certain individuals because most people aren't very affectionate or kinds (platonic if possible please since I'm a sucker for your teen/kid reader fics)

YAN. NOLANVERSE SCARECROW W/ TROUBLED PATIENT

MALE READER. PLATONIC HCS. READER IS AN OLDER KID.

— Nolanverse Jon is a psychiatrist, not a psychologist, but I thought it would be more interesting if I wrote him to have one-on-one sessions with reader. So suspend your disbelief. :P

You learned early on that the only way to survive your situation was to shut down, or fight your way through it.

One of the youngest patients at Arkham, you were infamous among your doctors for being very uncooperative during your sessions

Most of your issues exacerbated by the conditions at the asylum, and inmates who had no trouble walking all over you.

Your therapists (who didn’t care much for juvenile delinquents anyway, when villains like the Joker were housed in the opposite wing), were quick to walk out on you when you lashed out, all except one.

Dr. Crane was the only one who stayed in the room with you, even when you were screaming until your throat burned and spent entire sessions curled up on the floor.

Although you glared daggers into him, he met you with an even tone of voice and a self-assured demeanor that couldn’t be matched, scribbling away on that notepad of his when you thought there was nothing of importance to note.

Dr. Crane seemed to make all the time in the world for you, always first on the scene when you broke down, and never treated you harshly, no matter how cold you were towards him. No matter how many other doctors looked at you with contempt, as if counseling you was a chore.

Maybe if you were paying attention, you would notice that you ran into him a lot outside of sessions, in which he would prod about your well-being and insist on walking you wherever you needed to go, like an overbearing father.

Not to mention how his actions went far beyond a normal doctor-patient relationship, whether it was holding your shoulder steady to look you sternly in the eye or the tight, awkward squeeze he would give you briefly before parting ways

He seemed to prod you about everything. How you slept, what you ate, who you talked to, what your family is like…

Come to think of it, you haven’t heard from your parents in a very long time, since you started your sessions with Crane. Not that you wanted to hear back from them anyway, when they were the ones who sent you there in the first place.

Miraculously, you were eventually released for “good behavior”, despite your headspace not feeling any clearer, and in none other than Dr. Crane’s care.

Nobody seemed to question it, or give you a second glance as you walked out the doors with him. You were under the impression you were going home, only to be herded into the doctor’s car and driven to some secluded house in the countryside, a good long ways away.

Suffice to say, you never left out of his sight again.

#scarecrow x male reader #jonathan crane x male reader #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow x child reader #scarecrow x you #tw yandere #yandere x child reader #yandere #yandere x male reader #platonic x reader #nolanverse scarecrow

[epilogue-and-prologue]

Happiness - Part 2

Fandom: LOTR

Ship: Eomer x F!Reader

Trope: Arranged marriage

Note: Reader is Elfhelm's daughter and I invented a lot for what I didn't know so probably A LOT of mistakes.

Fun facts: I only wrote this extended fic for this one sex scene during their wedding night. This gif is my favourite thing to look at right now. It's late and I'm tired so.

Word counts: 4 090

Warnings: Dealing with grief, loved one's deaths, depression, SMUT at some point, poverty, war's aftermath, diplomatic relations, pregnancy, blood, miscarriage

Tags: @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @fizzyxcustard @sotwk

During the long weeks leading to the wedding, your days were either spent with your mother or Gera, taking over in your mother’s absence.

Indeed, thanks to your father’s insistence, she had been appointed as the wedding organizer. Or something akin to it. She was fussing and busying herself like she had never before, not even for Moira’s wedding. Your mother was a force of nature, but she could be a lot and having Gera was a good contrast to your mother’s buzzing energy.

First, the chiefmaid had kept you company or helped you find your way around the place. Quickly, she became a big part of your days. You visited orphanages with her and brought food to those in need in Sofia’s company. Over these shared times, she became a godmother of sorts - and her daughter a friend - always present when you needed them, and you always there when they needed you.

“Milady, I do believe it is most improper for you to work with the cooks in the kitchen.”

It had taken you almost three whole days of imploring her before you had managed to make Gera yield.

Gera did not believe in such a fantasy as fun. It was working or resting, no in-between. With that statement in mind, she had still followed you to the kitchen while you were asking questions to the bewildered pastry chefs meeting the future queen in such an unofficial manner.

When she asked for what purpose you wanted to cook, the word “fun” came out of your mouth. “To forget” would have been a more accurate description. Eomer’s attitude towards you had become erratic and even avoidant. You could not know why as he would not give you straight answers, always mentionning something he needed to take care of. The gestures of affection he had towards you were limited to him occasionally kissing your forehead and offering you his arm while walking. You had not had a good walk in days, the weather going grim with your mood.

The plates you were cooking always ended up given to people in need.

After that first expedition, it had become a habit of yours to go down to the kitchen to help, a few hours here and there when you could.

But, for every effort you made, Eomer seemed to have forgotten about you. Your actions were out of boredom, but if it could benefit the poorer all the better. He was always busying himself with new economic plans or diplomatic correspondence. He would not tell you about any of those things either and you figured it would take his mind off of things to talk about more mundane things. Like cooking. Suffice to say, it did not work.

So, when he stepped into the kitchen one day, leaving Gera to usher the poor cooks away, you were surprised, to say the least.

“Milady, you do know it is most improper for a future queen to wander around without an escort.

It had to be a trick of the mind though, Eomer did not feel that way and he had made that clear, spending all of his time away from you. Telling you about her. Amongst the fleeting moments of affection you had shared, he had talked to you about Enora. About the woman she was. It felt as a much needed talk for him. For you, it left you questioning everything. Even his commitment to you. Especially his commitment. It was clear that he wanted to keep you out. What for, that was a question you did not have the answer to, as many others when it came to him.

I had Gera until you arrived, my lord.”

He called your name in a soft commanding tone. You could feel the embrace you were missing in his words.

“I am sorry, that you find no suitable distractions in the castle. Nevertheless, you can not come in here. It is not your place. Nor mine as it turns out.”

You sighed. This day was bound to happen. It was improper, and that was that. People would talk. Even he had to uphold his status. He had to, even if he did not want to. Just like you soon enough.

“I know. I am aware of that. I just… Needed space. From the wedding’s preparation, from my mother - I love her but she’s hovering a lot these days, maybe… maybe even from myself. I cannot hear myself think these days.”

You could have sworn his cheeks took a hint of pink as you looked at him from under your lashes. Unbeknown to you, he had grown quite fond of hearing what you were doing and who you were doing it for, your good deeds to his people never going unheard. The cakes going to orphaned children in need, bread to the beggars in the streets, when you were not willingly spending time with the servants, giving a hand where you could. He admired your dedication and kindness a little more every day, despite himself, and his lost lover’s shadow.

-Yet, you do not share that with me. We have not talked much or been in the same room for longer than a few moments since the engagement has been announced. Were you trying to avoid me?”

“I know. I feel the same way.

Over the weeks, your presence had been missing. The little things he would have loved to be doing with you. Your hand on his arm at the engagement party imprinted in his mind. He missed you. All of you. Eomer had thought himself more of a practical person, reasonable, and smart. In this case, he had thrown everything out of the window. Where his first fiancée enhanced his duties, you made up new ones. You were so different, her and you. You could not compare to her and she could not compare to you. She was gone and you were alive. So alive, he yearned for you in a way he had forgotten. You made him feel again.

His head bowed, his eyes cast down. Words were escaping him. He had thought long and hard about this relationship.

“Yes. I was trying to avoid you.”

Your anger was only growing within you. You were frustrated by his actions but could not blame him for them. When it came to Eomer, you had become blind. As soon as you had recognized it for what it was, it felt easier to smile when thinking of him even if he was not thinking of you. No matter what he would do, you knew you would forgive, for you would love him. From that first day until the last.

His voice was lower now, as one of a child being chastised.

“I was afraid.”

His steps brought him next to you, only a meter or two from where you were. Just as he lowered his voice, you softened yours.

“How could you be afraid? I am just a woman.”

His hand took yours and you released a sigh you did not know you were holding. In the back of your mind, you willed your memory to keep those moments tucked away safely. You were sure they would not happen again.

“A woman in grief. A woman I chose. A woman I can not seem to care for as she needs.”

He closed in on you, a mere breath away now, his palm a gentle reminder of his presence on the side of your face, your eyes closed for your own sake. You could not drown in him. You would not. Not when it meant heartbreak.

“Sometimes, I try not to seek you out.”

You could not look at him, but from under your lids, you could feel his breath fanning over your cheek, his head bowed to you in silent prayer. The question burned your lips.

“Why not?”

His hands were now cradling your face, your eyes forced to look at him. His brows furrowed, lips parted in quiet stillness, the way he looked at you, mercy and hurt in the eye, made your heart clench in despair.

“I am guilty of selfishness. When I am with you, I forget. I forget what she looked like and who she was. When I am with you, the ghost of her disappears and I don’t know if…”

His lips parted, as if to say something again, were an invitation you could not refuse. Pushing a little you grabbed him by his collar and kissed him with everything you had. His hands found your waist, making you pull away brutally.

-What for?

“I am sorry, my lord, I…

-The… Just now. And… I did not wish to make you forget. You loved her. Why would I wish to erase her from your memories? She’s a part of you. But, I am selfish too, and…”

You took a deep breath. The feelings you had wanted to snuff out were too strong now. They had to be faced and felt.

-I promise.”

“If you are feeling the way you tell me you are, then I need to know you will be there fully when you’re with me. I… Eomer, I cannot compete with a ghost.

There had been no hesitation in his voice.

He grabbed your face in his hands, and kissed you again, slowly, with eternity in his mind.

The day of the wedding was the worst. You could not see each other all day, it had you both on edge. You were nervous beyond what you could handle, your mother feeding you sweets and Gera swiftly pushing the maids out of your room. You were sure you would suffocate.

Every day it was something new. One day it was a brush of his lips below your ear. The other, his fingers linking with yours discreetly. Another one, he pulled you into an alcove, kissing you senseless, breathless, leaving marks on the exposed skin of your neck.

Once you walked down the aisle, your father’s arm securing and anchoring you, your nerves disappeared. Your father’s teary eyes as he handed you over, almost made you cry, but Eomer’s fond looks shook you to your core. Only then did you notice that the sword he had at his side kept his hand from shaking. A genuine smile on your lips, you had covered his hands with your own, wishing to settle him. The emotion in the man had been threatening to overwhelm him. He had hold onto you for comfort as you wished he would.

The ceremony and the festivities had gone by so fast, it had felt like the blink of an eye. Your parents were dancing and seemed happier than you had seen them in a very long time. They were smiling and laughing, bickering so much, you felt happy for them too. Eomer’s hand surprised you, sneaking under the table and linking his fingers with yours. He leaned down and kissed your cheek, before kissing your lips, your hand cradling his face the cold metal of your wedding band only making it harder to stop. You were his. To love and to hold, forever. How could he have been so lucky, he would never know. But he was willing and wanted to make you understand that. Your doubts and need for reassurance, although not voiced, were clear to him, in the soft moments you shared, a hint of anxiety always taking you over. He never wanted you to doubt his love and attachment for you.

Quickly enough, the night came to an end and the moment to go back to your chambers arrived. The thought of him sharing a bed with you brought a new kind of warmth to your body. The past few days your imagination had been running wild. Not that you would own up to it in front of him. Ever.

Upon entering the room, the door closing behind you, you stepped back until you were met with the wooden surface. It was your salvation when Eomer showed himself, barefoot and naked from the waist up. You wondered if your legs were not going to give out.

In the semi-darkness, silence overcoming everything, he feared you might have swallowed your tongue. In truth, you thought you had, your breathing becoming laboured and uneven.

He called your name, as you were staring, eyes blown while looking at his chest and the expanse of his shoulders, the grave notes in his voice only eliciting more heat to bloom in your abdomen. You bit your lips, not hearing him until he grabbed your shoulders.

“Hm?”

He chuckled, his knuckles caressing the side of your jaw, goosebumps left in his path. Your hands were clasped behind your back, not knowing what to do nor how to do it. Unease took hold of you where there had been only anticipation before. Eomer noticed. He stepped back, looking at you with hunger. He swallowed discreetly. You looked magnificent. His own chest was raising and falling rapidly, the adrenaline in his veins thining his patience to a thread. It made you feel desired and loved more than you could fathom.

“My love, what is the matter?”

“I-… I’ve never been with…a man before…”

You sighed, the endearment on his lips only making it harder to speak.

Fearing you might take offence if he said he knew - even though he did know -, Eomer kissed your temple trying to soothe you. His smile mirrored your own, as his hand slid behind your back, bringing you closer to him. His eyes kept looking into your own.

“I will show you if you wish.”

His lips a mere whisper away from your own, you only nodded. The span of his hands covered your hips as he kissed you. You could feel the laces of your dress coming undone thanks to his handy work, tender kisses caressing the length of your throat, and Eomer holding you against him in a gentle grip. Once the pool of cloth at your feet, your light under-dress was the only barrier between him and you. His kisses were growing heavier with every passing minute, the gentle hold he had turning into him trying to melt his body with yours. Without a word he hoisted you up in his arms, carrying you towards the bed. As he laid you down, your eyes went to the shadows of the fire on the wall before coming back to Eomer, his hair undone, tickling your bare shoulder in the dark. The space above his collarbone, the bridge of his nose, his fingers against your throat, everything illuminated by the feverish light.

Before he looked, his lips against your own he quietly asked “Is this alright…wife?”

Before you could dwell on it, he claimed your mouth for his own, his chest to yours. Your fingers found themselves in his hair, earning a grunt from him, making your core clench and your hand stop. He smirked at that as if he knew what had happened. His palm pulled up your last garment until the birth of your hips, almost revealing yourself to him.

A “Yes” escaped your tongue before you could keep it against the roof of your mouth. After all why would you?

The sweet nothing in his mouth made you whimper out of nowhere.

He helped you out of your dress, leaving the soft caress of his palms up and down your chest, the planes of his hands down your stomach and your back, open-mouthed kisses on your breasts leaving you arching into him, struggling to breathe and how he could be everywhere all at once you would never know, but you would not have stopped it for the world. His mouth trailed down your stomach, always looking at you, always making sure you were alright, just the right amount of overwhelming from him. When he reached the apex of your thighs, you noticed his bare ass in the flickering light of the fire. You swore under your breath. It only made him laugh against you.

“See something you like, princess?”

An idea came to you.

-Hmm?”

“Queen.

You propped yourself onto your elbows, looking him dead in the eye.

-Indeed… then I should treat you as such, should I not?”

“I am not a princess.

His mischievous eyes were new to you. You did not mind them one bit.

You moaned loudly when his tongue flattened against your clitoris. His eyes narrowed and he kept on going, a thirsty man finding a source to drink from. Your body arched of its own accord, full cries escaping you. Something deep in your belly was threatening to snap when he stopped. Concern was etched on his face, his lips gleaming in the dim light as he reached for your face. You shivered at the sight.

“I am alright, husband.”

You nestled your face in his palm, kissing the calloused fingers one by one.

“What about you?”

His body settled next to yours, and you could feel him against your thigh as you turned. Your mouth ran dry at the thought of him inside you.

“I am content.”

He pushed a hair out of your face, feeling the heat of your breath against his nose. What a sight you were. Pupils blown, lips swollen by his ministrations, your skin reacting to the harsh touch of his beard, a path down your body he started following with his fingers down and down again between your thighs. As he met your core, you held onto his shoulder, whimpering again, biting your lip in a silent plea for pleasure. Despite it all, you managed to utter a question.

“Only content?”

His head in the crook of your neck, you felt him stop, now looking straight at you with an adoration you were sure you could not grow tired of. You felt his fingers as he entered you. One, then the other. The soft burn of the stretch kept you from saying anything, your nails digging into his back, his hair now hovering above you, kisses raining on you. He did not answer you, only moving his fingers back and forth until you could not feel the burn of them anymore. He had you rocking your hips onto his hand, filthy sounds surrounding you, the thought of ever leaving this room having left you entirely, drunk on him and only him. Only then did he answer.

“I could not be happier than in your arms.”

“Tonight is not about me. But if you ask…” half a smile crossed his features, as you were marvelling at him, sweating and hungry for more. You never thought anyone could look at you with such reverence in their eyes.

Your heart clenched. Your hips stilled between his hands before he pulled your legs apart.

“If any of this hurts you, please tell me.”

As he pulled himself out, you could feel it down your thighs. It made you hungry for more, somehow. The emptiness he had left behind was soon replaced by the warmth of the sheets on you, his arm sneaking around your waist. He pulled you to him, your head resting on his chest, eyes weary and tired. He did not say a word, the pad of his thumb tracing the column of your spine in lazy strokes and you could hear his heart under you ever so erratic becoming soft and in rhythm with yours. Never could you have imagined this to happen to you. It was nothing short of a miracle, that he found you and you him. You let yourself bask in it for a little while, the shadows of the room luring you into a daydream you longed for deep in your soul.

He laid himself on top of you, his weight never suffocating you, his eyes ever so inquisitive. You nodded slowly, fingers weaving in his hair making him close his eyelids under your care. He placed himself between your legs, your folds welcoming him in a warm embrace. As he pushed into you, a tear escaped you, a dull pain at the pit of your stomach appearing. It stopped with the movement of his hips against yours, ever so gentle, his irises never leaving your face, forehead against yours, before leaving blazed kisses on your skin. Something feral woke up deep inside you, your hand clawing at his back, enticing him to keep going. His groans and moans were echoing in your chest, when he bit down on your shoulder with a swift bite, drawing blood to the surface. The heel of his hand was gripping tightly your ass, moving your legs until they were locked at the ankle behind his back. You felt a renewal of pleasure as he moved your legs higher, visibly impossible for him to stop. His hips were sure to leave bruises on your own. Soon after, you met your end, in a blinding white light, clenching around him. Then he could not stop himself from rutting into you, leaving his seed deep inside you.

“Do you want a boy or a girl?”

The question was asked as if in pleading, praying the bubble you were in would not burst with its utterance. Eomer merely smiled, reassuring you. He grabbed your fingers, kissing your knuckles one after the other in a tender gesture.

“Both.”

His cheeky grin made you smile despite yourself. Your eyebrows rose of their own accord, not able to hide your surprise. Amused by his newly found confidence, you laughed and kissed him deeply, weaving your hand with his. When you tried to pull back, his teeth grazed your bottom lip, and a shiver ran down your spine, eyes wide open. The warmth you felt before, came again. You pulled yourself up and as you were laying on top of him, kissed him as deeply as you could. He did not stop you, his hands on your hips again, where you could feel the friction leaving him hard again. The power you had over him was so obvious. It would have been a crime not to use it to your advantage.

On instinct, a hand to the headboard to support yourself, you dragged your core up the length of him never looking away from his eyes. This new side of you was a pleasant surprise he was delighted to discover. A grunt and an insult passed his lips as the movement dragged down, before starting again, and again, and again. Seeing him willingly relent his control into your hands did things to you, you never thought yourself capable of. Abruptly, his grip on your hips tightened in a desperate gesture to stop your actions.

-…inside me.”

“As much as this is pleasant, I’d rather be…

It had rolled off your tongue so easily. Sultry tone and all. Eomer wondered how he would cope if you were to disappear from his life, taking all you were away from him. The answer never came as he snapped back to you, guiding you down on him. A soft whimper escaped your lips, your back arching into his skillful hands, while he kept on guiding you, the movement of your hips made him jerk upwards deeper into you. Making you cry out in pleasure was his new favourite thing to do, he believed it to his very core. The little sighs, your heaving chest, your hands clasped on his, right on the dips at your hips, the full-out cries, the whimpers, the way you felt as you desperately chased your climax, everything turned him on more and more with each passing minute. The worst part was the way you looked at him, with only desire dilating your pupils, adoration in your every movement when he pulled you down for a sloppy, messy, heated kiss. Forehead against his, your hips moving on instinct, the hot breaths shared between you, all of it turning feverish upon reaching the high you were seeking, before it all snapped, a heat leaking into you as he pushed deeper than before.

You stayed there, relieved, shivering in pleasure. He was still, inside of you, not willing to let you go just yet.

“Sleep now. We have all the time in the world, wife.”

You did not even bother to meet his eyes, as yours were already closing.

“No. I want to be pregnant. Now.”

Eomer laughed and it shook your whole body. Barely registering his kiss on your temple, you fell asleep as he had asked you to, in his arms, protected and content.

Next and last part

#happiness series #eomer x reader #eomer xf!reader #lotr fanfic #lotr fanfiction #tw: sex

[eremin0109]

So I just played the entire Majima introduction scene in Kiwami 2 and suffice to say I'm having some t h o t s. After having to sit through that awkward af scene where Kaoru undresses in front of Kiryu and then has a heart-to-heart with him about wanting to find out about her past (like seriously? if y'all wanted show them bonding just do THAT?? Do they need to sexualise that encounter like fucking look at the way the camera positions on Kaoru's breasts while she's genuinely talking about wanting to find out the truth. men at sega are truly limp dicked bastards istg) it was such a breath of fresh air to FINALLY go and see Majima.

Like at the Tojo HQ I almost screamed when Kiryu found the demonfire knife in Terada's backroom and was all like "I'd recognise that dagger anywhere..." like we know baby. You've got scars on your body the shape of the dagger's edge, of course you'd recognise it! And then the conviction with which he says that Majima is the only one who can save the clan from falling apart when Yayoi and Kashiwagi are both apprehensive about it is just...*chef's kiss*.

The actual meeting scene takes the cake of course. Kiryu brings that damn dagger with him to Purgatory and tosses it to the ground like some sort of a mating call to Majima, like he knows that's the only way he'll actually respond. And then what follows is just Sayama being obviously third-wheeled the entire time these gay bitches are in proximity to each other. Like I'm pretty sure the use of the very possessive sounding "my Kiryu-chan" definitely raised her eyebrows. (Not to mention, his dialogue with Sayama comes off more or less catty. The nicknames he calls her feel patronizing, like he dismisses her being anything more than another arm candy. Of course that is until the "I'm a cop" reveal lmao, that sobers him up pretty fucking fast).

And of course then Kiryu is more or less begging Majima to come back to the Tojo, bowing his head low in reverence and desperation and a bit of selfishness too because he KNOWS Majima won't be able to say no. Not to him, HIS Kiryu-chan. And Majima surely just reinforces that fact by saying "Ya know I can't bear seeing ya like this..." They're both pretty fucking aware of the fact that Majima has a big ol' soft spot for Kiryu (and now, thanks to all of this shit happening right in front of her salad, Sayama does too).

But the real highlight of the scene comes after, during Kiryu's entry into the coliseum where Majima is just so shamelessly checking him out through the cage it's not even subtle. But we all know that already.

What we don't know is the fact that its Kiryu who looks at him first and he just keeps looking at Majima's direction after winning against Di Sciuva:

against Gary Buster Holmes:

Kiryu knows Majima's eyes have constantly been on him throughout the tournament. And so it's not even entirely subtle that he's making sure Majima's having a good time because all of this is basically a show Kiryu's putting on for his eyes, hoping it'd be impressive enough to convince him to come back to Tojo clan. But I'm willing to bet anything that some part of Kiryu thoroughly enjoyed that shit too.

Everyone and their mother knows what comes next, gay sex in a caged fight, but still I will never get tired of going absolutely bonkers over Majima's entry scene. Everything about it is just so powerful and sensual and just so fucking cool.

It SCREAMS reciprocation. Majima is basically like 'Kiryu-chan gave me such a spectacular show it'd be such a shame not to return the favour' and then he just presents himself like THAT to Kiryu, in all his glory and asks him all smugly whether he likes the fucking view. That was so cunty of him UGH.

and Kiryu is just so fucking amused and he VERY MUCH VISIBLY likes what he's seeing. his body language, the way his voice drips with something dangerously close to fondness, that damn li'l smile like Kazuma Kiryu you're so fucking gay for this man it's embarrassing~

Their post-fight scene has a different fanbase altogether, because goddamnit Kiryu do be looking at Majima like he wants to wreak him all ways to Sunday.

This is one of the few times through the 3 Yakuza games I've played that I've genuinely found Kiryu to be smokin' hot. Like I don't think he's EVER smirked like that at anyone, much less a female love interest. There's just so much going on on his face (bless the dragon engine graphics) and good GOD every bit of it is downright filthy.

He fucked that man, hard (or got dicked down within an inch of his life). PERIODT.

Sjsjdjdjrowjehejkeje I don't think we talk enough about Majima here. The way he looks down then slowly back up to Kiryu while a little smile plays on his lips, the way he lowers his voice to that sultry af tone and he invites Kiryu for a drink, almost as if it's an inside thing for them both, as if it's code for "hey, wanna fuck nasty on my desk?" And Kiryu, for once in his life, picks right up on that, and then fucking smirks like THAT because of course he wants to fuck, what kind of a question is that?

Like there's just no other feasible way to explain this interaction. Y'all know if this exact scene was between Kiryu and Sayama, they'd have been all over each other in the next scene.

But because it's SEGA's two leading men, they settled for the most obvious insinuation possible that it just makes it way more horny than if they'd just straight away fucked. I said what I said.

#anyway that's all #well...for now at least #this scene is just so fucking good like I can't even #these are not even ALL of my feelings about it #how do they expect me to give a shit 'bout Kiryu and Sayama's lil thing when these two are so shameless with their carnal desire for e/o??? #everything about them in this game makes me insane in the best possible way #truly the brainrottest of brainrots #kazumaji #kazuma kiryu #goro majima #yakuza #yakzua kiwami 2

[roe-and-memory]

besties can i just say omg so i went thru ur blog obsessively bc i looove the ideas behind ur headcannons and little snipets of stories. i was wondering what bobby headcannons u guys have. also memory i loove ur writing and roe?? gorgeous fanart oml

AWWWWW THANK YOUU!!! rhis is so sweet 😭🫶🫶 i saw your comment on my fic thank u sm

im gonna be honest, we dont have many bobby hcs (i really wanna change that, i fucking ADORE bobby - and, if its any help, i actually have a fic up ((dont look back in anger)) where he’s a main character!! although its an au, i hope it’ll suffice for now :3)

- bobby is definitely a prankster, but like, hes NOTORIOUS for it. and not in the bad way. he has silly pranks that only mildly inconvenience the person on the receiving end (like the dumping water on lmq and cals heads after races) and he’s Always at the scene of the crime when something silly happens. he just Is the embodiment of silly. and yes i know this is canon for the most part but hes literally just so silly i cant not include it

- hes the youngest of the trio, the baby, even, he’s a december baby, born in 1988 (same year as lightning - cal is an ‘87 baby i believe - so when bobby started racing in 2007 he was still 18) but just at the End, whereas lightning was born in may . despite this he’s still the tallest, and probably the most well built of the three . aka lightning is scrawny and cal is just Average. and when lightning makes fun of him for being a Baby hes like ok well ure literally short as hell. what about that. huh? what can you do about your height? i’ll have a birthday but you dont have a get taller day? huh? and lightnings like. well. okay.

- i feel like he befriended cal first, like, he and lightning “hated” each other but it was less hate and more lightning being incapable of making friends (lmq and cal met at the infield care center after strips crash, so they were friends ever since then) and so cal was just in the middle of this “rivalry” that was in reality like. hey. cal. i think that bobby guy is really cool do u think he’d wanna be my friend. and cals like I DONT KNOW TALK TO HIM? and they talk and theyre like wow i actually thought u hated me (theyre best friends now)

- bobby both has an iconic autograph, but hes also so good with his fans its impossible for anyone to hate him. he has so many iconic pictures and literally everyone he meets praises him for his kindness and blatant silliness . hes just super easy going and generally amazing to be around

- out of all the racers hes probably got the most amusing advertisements as well, he will go ALL IN for whatever octane gain (or his smaller/secondary sponsors) want from him, and its so Genuine it just feels like he LOVES to be there

- he loves taylor swift. AND I KNOW WHAT YOURE GONNA SAY. “ITS STEREOTYPICAL” BUT NO U DONT GET IT.. SHE DOESNT MATCH THE REST OF HIS MUSIC TASTE AT ALL. hes the last person you’d ever expect to listen to her. he says its because they have the same last name so hes obligated to be a fan, but also the day Taylor Swift (album) debuted he bought the dvd and forced the other two to listen to the entire thing multiple times on a road trip and its safe to say that since the day taylor swift has existed, lightning and cal have feared her album release dates.

- hes the burnout king. every race he wins he will do a burnout down the frontstretch in front of the grandstands that will take his tires down to the RIMS. the tire marbles are INSANE

THIS IS ALL I HAVE IF I REMEMBER CORRECTLY 😭😭 i wish i had more and i WILL eventually make more trust me on that.. but thank you so much for the ask and i hope u liked them :3

#cars 2006 #cars fandom #lightning mcqueen #pixar cars #cars headcanons #memory’s headcanons #cars 3 (2017) #bobby swift #cal weathers #i adore bobby with my whole heart i fear #my favourite little guy #like when are we gonna admit he may be the silliest of them all #hes THE life of the party every time

[3minsover]

Steddie Dancing With the Stars AU Part 3 (from twitter a little while ago)

part 1:

part 2:

After the excitement of Monday night, Eddie’s glad to have a day off. He spends Tuesday stretching out his aching muscles, lazing around the apartment that he’s been staying in for the last five weeks.

Steve texts him on Tuesday night:

Ready to go again tomorrow? Think you might like this one.

Eddie smiles, glad that the camaraderie has continued off the stage. The exaltation of Monday night still sends thrills through him as he remembers what little he can of the shining lights, the rapturous applause. 

Though it’s Steve’s voice that remains clear as crystal in his ear - "That was incredible! You were incredible!". It sends a ripple of something across his shoulders as he remembers the glee in Steve’s smile, the way his arms had felt around Eddie’s neck.

Eddie types back, thumbs hovering for a moment as he carefully chooses his words:

Can’t wait. See you at 8:30.

It’s not exactly the most poetic thing Eddie’s ever written, but it’ll suffice.

Tuesday comes, and Steve introduces Eddie to the viennese waltz. It’s a lot of spinning. 

He talks Eddie through the general conceit of the dance; it’s star-crossed lovers, it’s meeting at a ball, it’s masquerade. And for the first time, there’ll be other dancers on the stage with them. Only for the first 30 seconds, to help set the scene, but they’re to navigate their way through them, crossing the ballroom as though drawn by an unseen force.

Eddie sits in silence for a moment after Steve’s demonstrated his part of the dance - he’ll be following where Steve leads this time - before slapping his knees, rising to his feet and announcing; "Okay, i’m wearing a mask, we’re twirling around all over the place, and there’s other people in the way. What could go wrong?"

And what could go wrong indeed. 

Nothing terrible in the first two days of rehearsal, but Eddie finds himself gripping Steve’s arm just a little bit tighter as he attempts to remain upright in the tumult of twirls and spins. 

"Don’t fight it, pick your points around the room and find them," Steve urges as Eddie stumbles over his own feet.

"I’m trying. Why the fuck do people do this for fun?"

Steve chuckles lightly, says, "Okay, how about we work on your form?"

"My form?"

"Step back, and show me what you look like in hold," Steve commands, dropping his hands, and Eddie blinks at him, still a little dizzy.

"Uh…sure. Like this?" Eddie shakes his head a little to force away the last of his unsteadiness, raises his arms back to where he thinks they’d be if Steve were closer.

Steve stalks around him, scrutinizing each extended finger, and it’s fine - really, it’s fine - when Steve’s fingertips push eddie’s elbow upwards just a fraction. It’s totally cool when Steve uses the toe of his shoe to nudge Eddie’s foot a little further inwards. What really sets Eddie’s heart racing though, is when Steve stands beside him, reaches around with his right hand, and presses the flats of his first two fingers to the side of Eddie’s jaw. 

He guides Eddie’s head back, encouraging him to turn his face, and when he does, Eddie sees Steve with his jaw set and his nostrils ever so slightly flared. Eddie’s breath catches in his throat, suddenly terrified to escape for fear it might bring Eddie’s thoughts with it through his mouth. And then Steve speaks, low and purring.

"Good, Eddie. That’s really good."

And he can’t help it. He can’t help the little surprised whimper that slips from his mouth. It doesn’t matter how fast he swallows around it, it’s already fled between his lips. And there’s something entirely unknowable in Steve’s eyes. something dark.

"This is…okay?" Eddie asks, suddenly shy in an entirely unfamiliar way.

"Perfect. Shall we continue?" Eddie can only nod in answer, dipping his tongue out to wet his lips.

As Steve returns to his position in front of Eddie, he wonders why he feels dizzy again, even though he’s been totally still for a full minute. Turns out it might not just be the waltz that’s making his head spin.

#steddie #stranger things au #3minsover #fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #originally posted on twitter

[starkraivennemad]

Reminding Me

Greg Lestrade was not having the best day. Awake since a quarter of three in the morning, it was now half past one in the morning. He stood back while Donovan questioned a new widow. There was something about the woman that niggled at the back of his mind, something he could not put a finger on.

Same with a book he saw in the window of a shop that morning. And with the new watch he noticed on his boss’ wrist while being royally blasted by him for something that was not his fault.

Greg chastised himself to pay attention before he missed something – else, or nearly did something stupid – again.

Goodness knows I do not need another dressing down from Sherlock Holmes, when I was caught semi day-dreaming.

There had been something about a painting in a different murder’s home that had triggered a similar feeling he could not quite grasp.

“I would think the copious amount of blood on the floor you’re about to step into would have your attention, not- whatever that monstrosity passing itself off as art on the wall. Clearly you don’t need my assistance if you can’t pay attention, Inspector. ”

And with that Sherlock flounced off minutes later.

Now hours after the fact, it still rankled. Suffice it to say when his phone buzzed with a familiar pattern Greg was not in the mood.

Mycroft. Oh, Christ, what does he  want?

Before he fully retrieved his phone from his pocket the buzzing stopped. Assuming an accidental dial, and grateful to no have to deal with the man right now, Greg went back to work. He would have completely dismissed the incident if the same did not happen again as he and Donovan left the scene and called it quits for the night.

Greg stared at his phone in surprise.  Mycroft Holmes accidentally dialing someone once was a mistake. But twice – within  the span of twenty minutes?

That did NOT happen.

Greg immediately dialed the man as he rushed to his car.

“Gregory, I apologize. I was not aware of the late hour and…”

Tired as he was, even Greg heard the falsehood of it. Greg did not lie to himself. He knew Mycroft Holmes to be a master manipulator. If he truly wanted to lie to Greg, he would be none the wiser. Greg did not think twice as he interrupted.

“Bollocks, Mycroft. What do you need?”

“I…”

The phone fell silent. The seconds ticking by was the only reason Greg knew the man had not rung out. As Greg somehow knew he would, he smiled to himself when Mycroft spoke again exactly as the minute mark struck.

“I must suffer being in close quarters with another being.”

Mycroft suffer?

His exhaustion fled; Greg looked at his phone. “Excuse me?”

The uber intelligent genius worked in a position the world does not know exists and is better for it. Mycroft Holmes causes suffering in others who do not listen to his advice in that position. Mycroft himself does not suffer for anything but save his brother and migraines; that his brother,  Sherlock, was sometimes the cause of said Migraines, notwithstanding. A man for whom caring is not an advantage is practically a mantra, Mycroft most certainly did not suffer the company of others if he did not have to, including Greg’s. Something he had made known repeatedly in their association, even if that now decade old association has slowly grown into something of a friendship from once acrimonious beginnings.

Greg started his car. “It’s past two in the morning, Mycroft. I’m having a bad day, could you be a little more forthcoming?”

“I know, Gregory... As am I...” Mycroft sighed. Before Greg could take in the enormity of that admission, Mycroft continued. “I... I find myself in the unique mindset of desiring quiet, but not solitude and the Quiet Room will not do. If I must do this – and clearly, I must – the only compromise is to align myself with someone who would cause the least egregiousness  to my sensibilities. I lament that it seems it would be… you.”

“I…” It was Greg’s turn to take a full minute to parse through the backhanded part to reach the possible compliment.

He wants company? But not just any company. He wants MY company…

“Where are you?”

“Diogenes, if you’re too tired, Gregory, I will underst-”

“Be there in twenty.” Greg rang out.

----    ----

A middle of the night Mycroft sat behind his desk. His shirt sleeves were perfectly folded, exposing his forearms. It was only the second time Greg had seen him as such. With his eyes glued to his work, Mycroft blinked when Greg stood at the door and softly cleared his throat.

You called here I am. Your insufferable company.

Mycroft checked the time, seventeen minutes. He gave a slight smile when Greg said nothing else as he closed the door, and hung his trench on the rack.

Always the perfect host, Mycroft gestured between the choice of the wingback chairs by the fireplace, a decanter of what Greg knew would be very expensive brandy on a table between them, or the sofa which had a pillow and a blanket folded on top, in deference to the late hour.

Mycroft stood; a curious look flickered across his face as Greg chose neither but approached the desk instead.

Greg closed the laptop and glared at Mycroft daring him to gainsay him as he pointed to the chairs.

You want quiet, but not solitude, but you are not working while I just sit around and twiddle my…

Caught in Mycroft’s blue/grey gaze he was reminded of the art that had captured his attention – It had the same color. Without looking down he knew then that his boss’ new watch reminded him of Mycroft’s pocket watch. The book he saw in the shop? A copy of Narnia that he and Mycroft had talked about at their last dinner. And the canned lights above Mycroft’s head shone on the ginger hairs of the hirsute man’s forearms. Hair the bright ginger color of the victim’s wife Donovan interviewed.

…Oh

“Gregory?” Mycroft broke the silence. “Are you well?”

He called...

He started to say I saw something today, and it made me think of you, but stopped himself just in time.

...and I came running...

It was then Greg realized these were not one-off occurrences at all. He has been seeing the man in seemingly random things, not just that day, but for quite a while.

...without batting an eye...

Oh shit…

“I’m fine – shall we…?” Greg quickly turned, walked to the chairs, sat, and poured himself a much-needed drink.

He called and here I am…

In a moment of shocking clarity, Gregory Lestrade understood something else:

I’m in love with Mycroft Holmes and I absolutely cannot tell him.

OH SHIT!

@mystradepromptsandscenarios

#mystradedialogueprompt #mystrade monday #mystrade #bbc sherlock #greg lestrade #mycroft holmes

[itsclydebitches]

With regards to subtlety in RWBY and the bees, when I first started reading your post I had a knee-jerk reaction to your point about only queer romances being subtle because of all the arguments over Good Omens and queerbaiting but you make a really good point about the tone of RWBY overall and about how in a show that obvious in everything, the fact that it's only 'subtle' about Blake and Yang is telling. I think it's easy to get stuck in an either-or mindset when it comes to discussing queer representation; that things must either always be as clear as possible or that subtlety is never a bad thing. So I appreciate your analysis focusing on how this relationship was executed in this show says about it.

"How this relationship was executed in this show" - exactly!! Oh, anon, I've been team "Of course Good Omens isn't queer baiting what are you TALKING ABOUT?" for years now and I'm of the very strong opinion that subtlety is a huge asset for that tale.

Suffice to say, yeah, the entirety of a show's context has an impact on how we read the queer rep (or lack thereof). A long-time ally writing a subtext heavy queer love story about two non-human entities, but refraining from defining that relationship with a singular, tidy label - or action such as a kiss - due in large part to that non-human characterization + the characters' status in the larger world + the fact that this was originally written 33 years ago + the complications of one half of the author duo having passed away, thereby making changing of that magnitude a very difficult decision is VERY different from a company whose recent homophobia/transphobia has come to light putting off a supposedly planned queer relationship for a decade in a story where every cishet relationship is established in a single scene. It's apple and oranges. Whether a show was cruel in its teasing of a couple, whether the fandom latched onto a couple that would have derailed the author's vision, whether creators are fighting tooth and nail against censorship, whether the story came out last year or fifty years ago, whether the story ever got to be finished... all of this and more impacts our reading of the queer rep; all of it needs to be taken into account. Which is partly why I think a lot of fans are upset with the bees becoming canon, despite simultaneously being thrilled that the bees are canon. When you strip away the generalized happiness of, "Yay queer rep!" and look at how this came about - the context - RT has done incredibly poorly, especially considering the leeway they had from the start. Viewers are allowed to be disappointed in that.

#rwde #rwby #mymetas

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, Season 2, Episode 15, Part 1 (Lost and Found, Aka The One Where Rory Loses Dean's Shitty Bracelet)

It has been over two months since my last TWWGG post. What has been keeping me from moving on, you may ask? What is the immovable roadblock that keeps slowing my progress? What has kept me from my adoring public (about 5 readers) for two months? It starts with Lor and ends with Elai. We open with a scene of said Annoying Roadblock nursing her bandaged hand, an injury sustained while trying to clean her gutters. Rory suggests they should hire someone, but Lorelai scoffs at the expense. About 10 seconds earlier we learned she was itching to eat some pancakes, presumably at Luke's, a money-costing ritual she likely repeats at least twice a day or more every single day. But no money to hire someone to muck the gutters or squash her termites. Well, I guess I'll let her off on this one because she never pays Luke for her food anyway. Let it be known that my mind is a steel trap and there are certain things I never forget...and one thing I never forgot is Lorelai's reaction to the horrifying suggestion that Jess might come to her home and alleviate the burden of performing some manual labor that she clearly is unfit to do herself.

Portrait of TWWGG thinking. We first learned about Lorelai's gutter problems in A Tisket A Tasket where she was fixing on some some teenage boys to win her picnic basket so theyd take care of her gutters instead ("Cleaning her gutters" is not a sexual euphimism in this case, however it would be if it were Dean). Suffice it to say, that did not happen, so she bypassed several other options (Luke? Dean? Kirk?) and went direct to the do it yourself route.

Now what does Lorelai say a short time later in this episode when Luke offers up a teenage boy named Jess to slop the muck from her gutters?

This kid goes to school (...sometimes), works four jobs (Walmart, Diner, Gigolo, and Full Time Cutie Patooty) and he's not even good enough to slop her damn gutters. We will resume our regularly scheduled broadcast of Grown Woman Holds A Lifelong Grudge Against A 17 Year Old Boy Who Was Rude To Her Once in just a moment.

If only we were so lucky.

I looked up "is gangrene contagious" to see if there was any possiblity she could pass it on to Dean too.

Lorelai complains that Luke is missing and she'll have to endure Caesar's cooking today. Ouch. How about you be quiet and go home and make your own damn pancakes, woman. It's not rocket surgery.

Tryna get a break from you.

Bless Amy Sherman Palladino and all her creative ways of getting masturbation metaphors past the WB censors. “Looking for my supply ledger” sure Luke, sure. 👊 💧

Yes Luke, why DO you have a sock on your shoulder? WInk wink nudge nudge. This wasn't the only masturbation joke involving a sock on this show either. Lorelai What are you doing here? Luke: Just trying to crank one out into my sock here. Can I get a little privacy? Lorelai: Rory and I are starving. I need you to cook us breakfast. God, woman. How about a "pretty please"?

Let's play a game of "What Belongs to Luke and What Belongs To Jess?" Who owns the red heart boxer shorts? Random sombrero? Random alien mask? The game of Connect Four? The Connect Four must be Luke's because Jess has no friends to play board games with. According to Luke this is all of Jess' stuff Liz shipped over, but I somehow doubt Liz ever bought Jess this much stuff or actually cared enough about him to send it . I better send my son his beloved sombrero, said Liz never.

"I'll help you shower if you cook me pancakes" KITTEN SHIRT WOMAN HAS NO CHILL DAMN

Masturbation With Sock Quips on Gilmore GIrls: At Least Two Luke Says Jess Was in The Bathroom For Two Hours And Jess Claims He Was Just Doing His Hair Quips on Gilmore Girls: At Least Two Barely Disguised Masturbation Quips Of Any Variety In The Last 60 Seconds, Total: Two, three if you lump In Lorelai wanting to soap up Luke's hot naked body in exchange for pancakes You can get rid of his alien mask and Connect Four, all this poor boy wants is his own room with four walls and a door.

He knows, this is why the both of you are so cranky and sexually frustrated. Jess "huh"'s cutely and replies that he learns something new every day before walking out. To which Annoying Kitten Shirt Woman replies:

Shut up. I'm begging you. Please. I'll buy you a lifetime supply of Luke's pancakes if you shut up for two seconds. I will stuff your mouth so full of pancakes that all you can do is smile and nod and everyone will be happy. Luke tells Lorelai to go downstairs and wait for him to make the pancakes. She badgers him to tell her how long that wait will be.

Well, if you didn't come upstairs and interrupt the first time, maybe he'd be done by now. Now he's gotta get rid of you, keep you and the child out, get comfy, take his pants off, and start "looking for his ledger" all over again. Then he's gotta try thinking about naked Lorelai but all he hears in his dreams is her whining "make me pancakes" and he goes all limp and he's even more frustrated. And now he can't even find the bed and you took his damn accounting book and in my gritty Gilmore Girls reboot titled The Hollow I would make sure Luke gets some time to himself to jerk off once in a while because he works hard and he deserves it.

Luke To Lorelai After He Gives In to Her Pancake Demands: You sure you weren't pushed off your roof today? It was me, I was the pusher. I regret that I failed and she only got a cut on her hand.

LOL, you're asking what Jess is doing alone upstairs? Want him to spell it out for you with crayons or something? I guess two hours in the bathroom "fixing his hair" just wasn't enough for Jess. He's got a lot of pent up frustration, I get it. Strap in buddy, it's gonna get a lot worse.

You ever think of mindin your own bizzness, woman? #Never However her butting in is sensible enough this time and she explains to Luke that his father's office is too small for two people to be living in it, and that he should think about the fact that Jess lives there too. Right on. We know Luke has $$$$ because he's throwing loan offers at Lorelai like they're Halloween candy. Maybe he could even put Jess up in his own damn apartment, but he's too stingy and stubborn. Ah, Luke and Lorelai, two people who refuse to compromise on anything ever. A match made in heaven, truly. A marriage destined to work. KittenShirt makes a quip about how Jess could be dead under a pile of boxes and no one would know or until his rotting corpse started to smell. But enough about your fantasies, Lorelai. And now we circle back around to Luke offering Jess to Lorelai to clean her gutters to which she replies with a "Jess?" with that tone of thinly veiled disgust that Miss Gilmore is known across the land for. Almost in one breath, Luke admits he doesn't pay Jess enough to work for him AND he "hates the thought of what else he might do to get money if you don't give him the work" AND "You don't have to pay him as much as you would someone else, you save money, he keeps busy." Alright, enough. We're only 7 minutes in to this wretched episode, so let's run down the recap of just minutes 5-6: We've heard implications that: 1) Jess' uncle outright admits he doesn't pay him enough for spending most of his free time after school working for him 2) Even though his uncle doesn't pay him enough, if he takes another job doing grueling manual labor like cleaning gutters, they don't have to pay him enough either, it only matters that he "keeps busy". He's almost 18 with a driver's license, he's not a fourth grader with a lemonade stand. 3) No one would notice or care if Jess was dead until his corpse was rotting under a pile of boxes for weeks 4) the only way Jess knows how to make money is by doing illegal, unspecificed things. You just readily admitted you don't pay him enough to do work that's (borderline) legal anyway so who can blame him? 5) For some reason Lorelai doesn't think he's worthy enough to slop her gutters This is where my Gilmore Girls reboot would take a turn into horror movie territory, something like The Hollow: Mariano's Revenge. Jess goes on a killing rampage. (Rory is fine and a few other select people may be spared) Jess doesn't go to jail because the judge and jury won't convinct his innocent face and the jury understands the people of The Hollow deserved it. Rory and Jess can go on to build new lives somewhere else. A bulldozer comes through and razes the entire town. End of show. Lorelai stammers and sputters at the suggestion that Jess could clean her gutters and makes up excuses that she has other people lined up for the job and scurries out of the diner with Rory. Please, I must know the reason Jess can't clean your gutters or visit your home, it's unclear where her discomfort lies because it's nonsense. What, are you worried he's gonna steal something if he visits? What's he gonna take? The clown pillow? An box of off-brand poptarts? No, it wil just be some Quarter On A String that Dean gifted Rory and that she doesn't even care is missing.

Lorelai says a lot of things she doesn't mean. "I'll give Jess a chance", "I'll stop sleeping with Dean", "I won't keep spending our meager life savings on pancakes."

I continue to feel pity for Rory that she constantly has to defend him against this exhausting nonsense. What makes my blood pressure rise higher? Any interaction with Dean, or a long exchange between Rory and Lorelai where Lorelai is trying to explain to Rory that Jess makes her "uncomfortable"? And Rory has to convince Lorelai to give Jess a chance. Again. Honestly right now I would welcome Dean parachuting into the scene and starting some different bullshit as only he can. I hate this.

Idk about that, you seem to have an awful lot of opinions on Rory liking him too.

Only if he can call you "annoying emotionally stunted woman-child who doesn't mind her own business and has a one sided grudge with a child". I think that's only fair.

"Because I'm still 17 years old and can't move out and until then I'm stuck under the same roof as you listening to your bullshit unless TWWGG calls Child Protective Services in Connecticut and gets me put into a nice foster home with a new Mommy." Rory goes on to explain that Jess lives with Luke and they're going to have to see him every day if they want to keep eating the pancakes at the diner so it might behoove Lorelai to be nice to Jess. Which is the same exact sensible, ignored advice that Rory gave to Dean when she asked him why he hated Jess and he said "because he breathes". Which is that you can't hold grudges against people when you live in a small town. I'm sorry no one listens to you Rory. I'm listening. I'm sorry for how I used to talk about you. You are the only logical and reasonable humanoid in this wretched pod called Stars Hollow. I've said it before and I'll say it again because why not: Whenever Lorelai boycotts Luke's Diner because there's some kind of discomfort between them (which is frequently) Lorelai won't eat at any other restaurant so Rory starves. I'm getting CPS on the line right now, Rory. Hold tight. Rory explains to her mother that she and Jess are sorta-kinda-not that close friends, a horrifying prospect that shakes Lorelai to her core.

Look at this sleeping infant? How could you hate this angelbaby snugglekins. I would notice if you were pinned under an avalanche of boxes and I would get you out before you could perish. And I would pay you fair wages if you were in my employ. And you wouldn't have to do unspecifed llegal things on the mean streets of small town Connecticut to survive. I promise. We learn that Jess needs loud music to sleep, which I admit was a comment that went completely over my head for many years until I finally realized the implication of that statement. Either he needed music to drown out some awful thing that was happening to his mother or it was to drown out what was happening outside his home (street violence?) and most likely it was both. At the very least, I think it was a distraction so he could fall asleep without thinking about all the turmoil going on around him. Instead he's now suffering in a different, quieter kind of hell called Stars Hollow where some witchy bitchy woman named Lorelai and her small town minions have put a target on his back for no reason. Luke goes on a frustrated rant about the messy state of the Danes Mariano home, waking Baby from his sleep. I do delight in a good Frustrated Luke Danes rant. It's one of the few things keeping me sane while trying to get through the wretched hell that is the 2nd half of season 2. He tells Jess that tomorrow morning they're moving out and finding a new place (lies). Part 2 idk when. Maybe in another 2 months.

#denise rewatches gilmore girls #gilmore girls season 2 #Lost and Found #rory gilmore #lorelai gilmore #luke danes #literati #jess mariano #milo ventimiglia

[aysekira]

Hi, I have been going through your lyf tags and you are one of the few whose thoughts matches mine on the love traingle. I think despite complaining about overused cold-overbearing ML trope, many people are still too attached to that and can't accept somone like Jing as the endgame. I have never been a big fan of MLs that makes grand gesture w/o FL's knowledge but acts aloof/cold, either because he can't deal with his feelings or think he knows better or for the greater good. It's not fair to the FL and I believe that just because you made sacrifices for the FL you are not owned her love. Xiao Yao has been clear about her wants from day 1, if XL was honest about his feelings they could have had a shot. But even if he switched sides I can't imagine them living a mundane life together. That's why I think Jing being the end game makes so much sense, they both want someone to earnestly love them. (1/2)

Hi anon. First of all, let me just say i hope you enjoy the posts under the tag. Secondly, while i see that this is a two-parter ask— pardon me, but i think um you kinda forgot to turn on the anonymous feature on the second one so just to be safe as to not disclosing the username let me just go at it with this one& paste some quotes from the other part that i think is relevant.

I agree with what your point about xy’s decision in choosing jing/17 is not in any shape or form a way of settling with reasons stated per your points&basically what i stated on other posts. Also, i too am quite puzzled as to how&why it is being viewed as such, vehemently at that, by some people to the point that i just see them as basically having xy’s non achievable standards heck even higher than that, in evaluating jing/17 as an ML option, heck him as a character! (eg. Non retaliation is seen as weakness, etc)— wouldn’t elaborate on how i feel or my views about it because i reckon one page wouldn’t suffice. Let me just say it goes between perplexed to annoyance depending on one’s mood that day.

In your second part you mention: “I dont think choosing a caring, gentle man who loves you sincerely and who you find very desirable is a bad move in fictional or real world. Their relationship was very uneven but when they get together later they both have grown as person and it is much more balanced.” This part i agree with fully and are some of the reason as to why i wholeheartedly supports 17 as the end game.

If nothing else, we’re talking about end game as long term relationship here, in deities timeline at that: where 15 years’ basically the equivalent of our 1.5years to these characters. out of the MLs options, jing’s the only one that consistently shown the trait that xy keeps on hammering as being the things she seeks: availability— that is steadfast enough he makes her believe that no matter what reason that may/will come he will never ever not be available for/abandoned her. From waiting on her bird rides to this point in the drama: he basically&consistently rehashing that scene on the bridge where it’s never him that walks away first. And if that’s not checking the biggest point in xy’s want&need list for long term relationship/end game. Then idk what is.

#lost you forever #长相思 #random bits

[triviareads]

Thank you.

Can you recommend for me a contemporary romance with kink?

I'm guessing in reference to this ask

Hi! This is a pretty broad ask but I can rec my favorites (some of them are erotic romances btw):

Can I start this list without beginning with Sierra Simone? Nope. Sierra writes erotic romances that have this amazing combination of kink, heart-wrenching emotion, queerness, and religion

Misadventures with a Professor: Might be a good place to start your Sierra journey; Oliver is someone you get the sense needs kink to have fulfilling sex, and possibly a fulfilling relationship. He is very into the professor/student thing (so D/s with a lot of "good student" praise, chastisement, and some teaching) and Zandy is 100% into it too (much to Oliver's shock... poor guy has been kinkshamed in the past and then proceeded to kinkshame himself to hell and back).

Priest: The start of my Sierra journey; D/s dynamic between a Catholic priest and his new congregant. It's almost entirely from Tyler's point of view but I loved Poppy as a character because she was so unabashed about her lifestyle and her desire to be dominated. I'd strongly recommend entire Priest whole series, though book 2, Sinner, is less kinky there are... undertones (that are fully realized in a bonus scene lolol), and book 3, Saint, plays around a lot with chastity..... and cock cages.

New Camelot series: A modern political romance between Ash (King Arthur; the president here), Embry (an unholy combination of Mordred and Lancelot; the VP), and Greer (Guinevere; the First Lady). Ash is a Dom and had a longstanding D/s relationship with Embry, who is a switch, and both men were involved with Greer in the past until they all intersect. This was one of the first books with kink I read and it made an impression, suffice to say.

Thornchapel series: Okay there's definitely a magical/fantasy element to this but it's set in the modern world and I really love the relationships depicted in the series. There's the main throuple which consists of a dom and two subs; Auden is actually taught by his friend how to be a good dom, and that friend, Rebecca, is in a D/s relationship with Delphine (one of the few well-written wlw romances with kink as far as I've seen). There's a looooot of denial in this one; celibacy, orgasm denial, teasing, etc. It makes for GREAT tension on top of the already gorgeous romances.

Try Sierra's Salt Kiss, which is the first in her Lyonesse Trilogy which is based on the story of Tristan and Isolde and Mark (and the only book out so far). For the most part, it's m/m; Mark is a sex club owner and Tristan's dom and boss. Tristan has a breeding kink which goes both ways, in that he wants to breed Isolde, and wants to be bred by Mark.

Sara Cate's Salacious Players Club is a good series to introduce you to kink. All five of the books are kinky to varying degrees. Praise has a D/s relationship with lots of praise kink stuff, Eyes On Me is exhibitionism/voyeurism-forward, Give Me More is about a couple falling for their best friend and vice-verse and has some exhibitionism/voyeurism/bondage, but I think the most interesting point, kink-wise, is that Hunter, the husband, initially thinks he wants to be cuckholded (watching his wife and best friend have sex) but it turns out he's working through internalized homophobia and actually just wants to be a part of a throuple with his best friend and wife. Mercy also has a D/s relationship with an older domme and her best friend's son who is a brat.

Jennie Kew is an Australian author whose Bennett's Bastards series I overall enjoyed. She writes very... earthy heroes and heroines and it makes for an interesting vibe. My favorites are Third Time Lucky, which has a D/s relationship between the main couple (and goes into how kink can be weaponized in abusive relationships). His Own Heaven also has a D/s relationship between the main couple, and it actually falls outside the bedroom too (ex: she sits at his feet and he feeds her).

Priceless by Miranda Silver: Christina initially agreed to sleep with Patrick for money which, for her, is inherently degrading, and then there's more degradation on his part. The kink feels very... natural, If that makes sense. Not a lot of bells and whistles; just two college students figuring it out in a frat house bedroom.

Katee Robert writes a fair amount of kinky romances but I do think her sweet spot might be writing daddy-dom types. Try her Your Dad Will Do and My Dad's Best Friend series if you're looking books with a daddy kink. Also—

Desperate Measures: A grown-up take on Jafar/Jasmine except he's a mobster and she's a mob princess. There's daddy dom stuff, plus some consensual non-consent.

Neon Gods: Hades/Persephone; Hades runs a sex club out of his house and there's a good amount of exhibitionism and voyeurism, also, Hades does have the daddy dom quality even if she's not outrightly calling him Daddy.

I've read a few books by Eve Dangerfield but plot-wise the one that stands out the most is Act Your Age; There's a lot of sleazy step-daddy roleplay so its a good amount of degradation, and some CNC.

Mila Finelli's Kings of Italy mafia series has kink; Mafia Mistress and Mafia Darling (both with the same couple; the heroine is initially engaged to marry the mafioso's son except he wants her for himself) has a lot of daddy (paparino) stuff and some generally rough sex and roleplay, and Mafia Madman (heroine is kidnapped and thrown in a cage on a yacht by the hero) I'd say has an M/s dynamic with both a degradation and praise kink and some CNC. Gia is also a Brat.

Heather Guerre is really good at getting the soft domme vibe right; in Preferential Treatment a billionaire pays his employee to domme him (there's some impact play from what I remember, and orgasm control). What Was Meant To Be is about basically an arranged marriage, and Rain just naturally likes to take charge in the bedroom and Wes is very down, just very much a Good Boy.

Sink or Swim by Tessa Bailey has a pretty unique sexual dynamic imo; Andrew a service top in that he's the more dominant one but he really gets off on Jiya telling him what to do (sexually and otherwise) and as it turns out, so does she. I really like how Tessa subverted the "submissive Asian woman" trope in this book.

Adriana Anders wrote Daddy Crush which is your classic daddy kink romance with an age gap, but it was just written really well. Would recommend.

Dana Isaly and Hannah Murray both write shorter, erotic romances with similar vibes. I liked Dana's Games We Play (mask kink, degradation, bondage, etc.) and Hannah's The Sadist and the Brat (I actually reviewed this one).

#sierra simone #sara cate #jennie kew #heather guerre #adriana anders #dana isaly #hannah murray #mila finelli #eve dangerfield #miranda silver #katee robert #tessa bailey #book recs #contemporary romance #ask