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tgcg · 4 months

Text

ill break your shit adam

warning for adult lang

fuck you adam sandler

youre lucky karkat likes you

stupid fuck sees an amnesiac girl

and asks her can i marry you

that lady got issues mentally

you still down to do shit anally

deplorable zit on the ass of romanza

karkat told me to put that shit in this stanza

do raps even count as having stanzas

slam poetry tyke at preschool im no manza

youd probably jack it to a log with holes if they were wet ones

sitting on that stupid dock with her papa cracking cold ones

piece of shit id push you off that dock and watch you bubbling

kick your ass like her shitty bro failed when you were troubling

penguins dont quack like fucking ducks you dumbass

thats not part of the rap i just think that youre a dumbass

back to the rap sandler i bet you couldnt drop a single bar

too busy picking up stupid women at the stupid women bar

who even let you into hawaii

also did i say karkat liked you i was kidding he wants to kick your heinie

seriously watching that shit again made him start slamming his head into the cushions and screaming i had to pry them out his hands and he almost bit me

sorry i forgot i was rapping again

piece of shit forgot that you can like women while dating other men

still not over that chuck and larry shit adam

if you just said to the gov you were bi you coulda had em

firefighter of the year? well try putting out this heat

karkats gonna beat your ass like you do every night to your meat

gotta ask is this shit wish fulfilment for you

gotta say larry deserved better than you

i could treat him way better than you not in a gay way though

i just mean youre a massive sleaze basically the worlds shittiest bro

back to 50 first dates man sandler your shit is a bore

the stupid bits with schneider got my ass addicted to snore

if i was that stupid walrus id tear your ass to shreds

if i was that penguin i would also tear your ass to shreds

itd be harder but id still do it

bro fuck adam sandler im through it

===

TT: Wow. Bravo, Dave. You've outdone yourself.

TG: i wrote this one exceptionally fucking terrible to represent my inner darkness

TG: i can never unwatch those cinematic fossilized turds theyre like time capsules devoted to everything wrong with america

TG: you dont even understand how egregious that was

TT: I can sense the utter malaise and contempt in every word. It's beautiful.

TT: One particularly interesting point I'd like to make is the fact that you managed to refer to butts in a song about a male target, 10 times in the span of 37 lines. It's not an exorbitant amount, but it appears to be a running theme in your works. Very interesting, if you ask me --

TG: nooooo

TG: nope no

TG: not this shit again

TG: listen one of them is karkats fault

===

CG: ROSE, YOU JUST DON'T FUCKING UNDERSTAND WHAT HE'S DOING HERE AT ALL.

TT: No? Please, enlighten me Karkat.

CG: GLADLY.

CG: HE STARTS OUT WITH THE FRIGGIN WORD "ANAL" PRECEDING ALL OF THE OTHER MENTIONS, OF COURSE IT'S ON PURPOSE. IT INSTILLS THAT IMAGERY IN YOUR NUGBONE THROUGHOUT THE TRACK.

CG: AND YOU MAY HAVE NOTICED A RECURRING USE OF THE WORD "SHIT", IN TANDEM. BOG-STANDARD FOR DAVE, RIGHT? NO! IT'S PART OF THE EFFECT!

CG: MY THESIS: ADAM SANDLER MOVIES ARE PIECES OF ABSOLUTE SHIT AND THE REFERENCES TO WORDS LIKE "LOG" AND "SHIT" AND "ASS" ARE TO INVOKE THE SENSE OF TAKING A MASSIVE DUMP THROUGHOUT THE SPAN OF THE RAP, WHICH BY ALL MEANS WOULD BE AN EQUAL OR GREATER USE OF YOUR TIME THAN WATCHING THOSE MOVIES.

CG: RIGHT, DAVE?

TG: … yeah

TT: Okay, I'm willing to concede to that. On this subject matter, as an avid terrible movie enjoyer, you admittedly know better than myself.

CG: SHOULD KNOW BETTER.

TT: And you love them anyways.

CG: YEAH.

TG: hes right

TG: you hear that shit hes right

TG: fuck death of the author im verifying that interpretation

#davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #rose lalonde #homestuck #made with instrumentals of ether by nas in mind #posting early bc im impatient #comix

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beababoobies · 3 months

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Oh my stars so I saw your post for Hazbin hotel requests can I PLEASE get a reader w Sir Pentious who is low-key jealous of his crush on cherry but he ends up getting w reader in the end?

I would love you forever 🙏

yurp, I gotchu. I love cherpentious with my entire heart but anything for y’all 🫡

edit : THERE IS NOW A PART TWO!

Somethin’ Stupid - Sir Pentious

words : 1.77k, slight warning for ep 6 stuffs

God, this fucking sucked.

Cherri, who was - and you don’t mean to be direct, or self-loathing - downright fucking gorgeous, had been bribed to take you all out to a bar - well no, that wasn’t the exact instructions, but it was clear enough that Charlie didn’t expect much more from her. So here you were, slouched back on a vodka-stained couch in the corner of this bar, Husk lounging beside you while Nifty giggled and played with his fur, and your oh so beloved Sir Pentious across from you.

You kicked back another shot of whatever Angel had brought to you, pretending to find whatever Husk had just said funny (you were far too caught up in the way Sir Pentious was goo goo eyeing a certain Cherri Bomb.) and Husk spoke up, eyebrows furrowed.

“What’s up your ass today, kid?” He said flatly with a swig of his beer, raising one of his eyebrows as you finally snapped your attention back to him, trying to smile non-chalantly as you watched your beloved little drunken ball of insecurity slither towards Cherri again from the corner of your eye. “ ‘ts nuthin, Husk. Leave it.” You say with an annoyed sigh as you watch Pentious stumble over his words to an annoyed and unimpressed Cherri.

“- I’M HAVING SSSSEX WITH EVERYONE HERE!” He turns around and yells, which has both Nifty, Angel, and Husk snap their heads around with wide eyes. He gives you a sad look and you try to give him a reassuring one. That is until he gets dragged into a separate room, and you inhale sharply through your teeth, wincing at the way he screams before the door is shut properly. Cherri doesn’t even look like she cares.

“Ah.” Husk says flatly, catching your attention again. “Should’ve guessed after your fuckin’ ramble last night. ‘But Husk he doesn’t even know I’m here!’ and all those fuckin’ ‘I’ve been here longer than he has and he won’t even talk to me!‘s. he’s just nervous around you, like he is with Cherri. Fucker has some self-confidence issues. Just do it already.” He says, looking almost annoyed as you flushed deep and slapped your hand over his mouth, which he quickly swatted away.

“Shh! Jesus fucking Christ Husk, not so loud! Fuck!” You grumble as Angel giggles with a hand over his mouth from the other end of the booth, before taking another small sip of his cocktail. “Not a secret, toots.” He says with his casually shit-eating grin, gesturing to a very drunk Nifty who was giggling now too, nodding her head. Great.

“Sometimes, when I’m out killing the bugs that think they’re all sneaky, and gross and cool at night, I walk past your room and you’re listening to super bad romance music. Which scares the bugs away and makes them surrender their lives. Which like, it’s supposed to be a fight! You’re ruining all the fun… ” She adds the last part with a annoyed grumble, but despite her unbelievably drunken state, she’s still speaking fast, high-pitched, and with the exact same creepy undertones. “And I walk past that bad boys room and he’s all rehearsing romance poetry he wrote. It’s so bad! Ehehe!”

She giggles out, eyes falling on a bug on the floor, hopping quickly off of Husker’s head and falling face first onto the floor, before quickly picking herself back up and running after it. “Shit.” Angel groans, putting his cocktail down quickly and shuffling out of the booth. “I’m gonna make sure she doesn’t end up with some creep.” He grits out through his teeth, before disappearing into the crowd with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’d better help him out.” Husk says with a sigh as well as he placed his beer bottle down carefully, pulling himself up with a groan.

He turns back to you for a second, just looking over his shoulder, before smiling. “You should start considering the possibility of Cherri being a distraction.” He says, humming softly before he adds one last thing. “Please do check in on the awkward fucker though, I don’t know what kind of shit he’s got stuffed in him or is stuffing at the fuckin moment.” Husk says with a sigh, disappearing right into the ground of flashing lights and bumping bodies right after Angel.

You took the last courage swig of your drink and stood up, doing a little tipsy stretch as you got up, before dejectedly walking over to where a very, very exhausted Sir Pentious was sitting, hyperventilating and sweaty. You let out a soft sigh as you walked over, kneeling in front of him and taking his hands away from his face, holding them softly in your hands, looking up at him with furrowed brows and concern.

“Hey Pentious, that was a lot wasn’t it?” You say softly and he nods, refusing to make eye contact with you. He looks grossed out, ashamed, everything. You let out a soft sigh and rub small circles into the back of his palm with your thumb, doing your best to comfort him in the loud and overstimulating bar scene.

“They were very kind - I jusssst, kept ssssssaying yessss. I don’t know why.” He says softly, and you nod, standing up and helping him up too. “Let’s get you back to the hotel, ‘Kay? You can take a nice hot shower and go to bed.” You reassure quietly and he finally looks up from the ground, smiling at you quickly before nodding, but as soon as Angel catches his gaze again, he’s out of your grips and right back to focusing on Cherri. You grimace softly as you watch him rush up to angel and ask where Cherri is. You watch as he groans in defeat as she goes into another room with a random guy.

Some part of you feels happy, relieved of some jealousy. Another part of you feels bad. That was all he was doing the entire night, trying to get her attention. You shook it off and walked over to where everyone had re-grouped, giving them a tired wave, and getting one in return. You let out a small gasp as you saw the dried blood from Angels’ nose all the way down or his lip, his new black eye.

“Oh dear, what happened?” You cooed softly, reaching up to wipe some of the blood of his face, and he softly moved away, shaking his head in a polite ‘thank you, but not right now’ way, and you nodded. “It was just a run-in with Val.” He says with a sigh, wiping another fresh stream of blood from his other nostril onto the back of his hand. “Let’s get going - I’ll tell you when we’re back at the hotel, Toots.”

An unceremonious end to the night; but not exactly the end to yours. Even when you got back, debriefing everything that happened with Husk and Angel while Nifty snored on the couch and Pentious took a shower, even when you had finally wished them a good night and made your bed, sighing as you let your head fall to your pillow, you couldn’t stop thinking about what happened with him. What Husk had said.

“You should start considering the possibility of Cherri being a distraction.”

You repeated it in your head for hours while you tried to think about anything else, scrolling on your phone aimlessly through Hellflix, InstaScam, Crime Video, even YouCrude - there was no one to e-stalk, no new shows for you to binge, not even something you wanted to re-watch. No new uploads from your faves - just an endless amount of scrolling.

Until about 3 a.m.

That’s when you heard it - shaky, nearly silent sobs from Pentious’s room, small sniffles. You checked the time, sighed, threw a shitty pair of smiley-face PJ pants Charlie had made for you on, and slumped over to his bedroom, knocking softly on his door. It went dead silent, not a mouse, no the small clinking or squishing of Nifty’s bug-killing sewing needle.

“Who issss it?” He said in a shaky, tired, raw voice, and your heart absolutely melted, hand against the doorknob as you spoke. “It’s me, Pentious. I just heard you - uh - being sad. I know I’m not your favourite, but can I come in?” You say with a soft sigh, running your fingers through your hair tiredly. It takes him a minute and a soft hiccup before he rasps out a small “pleasssse, y-yeah.” And you open the door.

What you find is absolutely heartbreaking. Your favourite little serpent, curled in on himself, hugging his tail to himself, eyes red with tears that fall softly down his face, hat resting on his old worn down dresser, angry and frustrated swipes if his claws leaving him on top of torn up bedsheets and pillows, and you nearly cry with him right then and there. This sweet man who has been nothing but a pure angel, stuck with all the sinners, including yourself, down here.

You walked over to him, sitting beside him on his bed, hearing the old mattress frame squeak softly as you sat down, putting your hand on his, gently cooing him until he took big, deep breaths, gently and encouragingly rubbing circles back into the palm of his hand.

“Tell me, what’s up? I’m all -“ you start confidently, being cut off by an annoyed but desperate call from Pentious himself, pulling his hand away from yours and groaning into his palms, shaking his head. “that ISSSSS the problem! You’re the problem- you’re so pretty I can’t think sssstraight around you! And now you think I hate you!” He cries out, looking at you with desperate eyes, like he wants you to say something - anything, really. But you really can’t.

You’re completely frozen, hand frozen in mid air when it was going to rest on his shoulder to comfort him, eyes wife, lips pierced together and all you can do is stare at him like some stupid idiot. You are at a mental battle of grabbing his face and kissing him until you can’t breathe or slowly talking it out. He sighs dejectedly.

“I want to get closssser to you. Wanted to be your friend, at leassst. But… then I’d go and ssssspoil it all by ssssaying ssssomething sssstupid like…” he stops for a second, swallowing thickly. “…I love you.” He looks up at you again, nearly desperate for an answer. You finally get some words out of your closed up throat -

“I love you.”

Frank + Nancy Sinatra My Beloveds <;3

#hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel #hazbin charlie #hazbin sir pentious #sir pentious #hazbin #hellverse #sir pentious x reader #valentino #I HATEHIM!! KILL THAT HOE!!!! FuCK!!

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repulsiveliquidation · 4 months

Text

Hope, Coffee, and Poetry.

cw : smut, angst, mentions of cheating. 18+ DNI.

a/n I hope this lives up to your expectations. I cried when I wrote the last line, I have no idea why. Enjoy. realized I forgot to include the Frida Kahlo quote I used!

“You deserve a lover who takes away the lies and brings you hope, coffee, and poetry.”

Hope.

“Bebita, please!”

“Don’t want to hear it, Alexia,” you tell her, storming out of the restaurant with her trailing behind.

“Baby, wait!”

You turn around quickly, anger seething behind your eyes. She cowers a little, taking a step back from you just as you both stepped out of the restaurant.

“Don’t you dare try to justify what you’ve been doing behind my back, Alexia. I’ve been so stupid to think that you wouldn’t break my heart like that when you promised me you wouldn’t ever do that. You know the pain and turmoil my father did to my mother and you SWORE to me you would never cheat on me and you fucking did!”

“Amor, I’m sorry. I tried to tell you but-”

“But what, Alexia? ‘Oh sorry I couldn’t join you for dinner babe, I’ve got my mistress to fuck at 8 pm tonight, and I can’t reschedule?!’”

You step up to her, most of the girls now joining you two outside. María, Ingrid, Lucy, and Frido look extremely upset with Alexia while Ona, Jana, Pina, and Aitana are by your side rubbing your back and arms.

“You ruined us, Alexia. Don’t ever forget that.”

You wipe your tears off your face, give the girls a curt nod, and walk off towards your car. Opening the door, you hear María yelling her head off at Alexia, fluently cursing at her in Spanish. Alexia has her head hung low when you drive past, sobbing into her hands.

“How could you do something like that to her, Alexia? She was the best thing that ever happened to you and you throw her away for some gold digger you picked up at a bar?!” María lays into her after Alexia desperately tries to explain herself.

“She is not a gold digger!” Alexia yells suddenly, looking straight at María with red eyes and an angry look.

“Did you just defend her? The whore you’ve been sleeping with behind your fucking wife's back?”

Alexia looks at her best friend in shock. The words just came out of her mouth, she wasn’t thinking.

“I didn’t mean-”

“Your wife has been there for you when you were THIS close to giving up football. When your ACL tore, she almost gave her career up to be there for you full-time. When your father died, she was the first one you called; she was as heartbroken as you were, he was the best father figure she had. The two of you were thick as thieves, inseparable since you were children. You knew the kind of shit her father put her and her mother through with him sleeping around and you go and do the one thing she hoped the person she loved wouldn’t do to her!”

Alexia was sobbing hard, shoulders shaking hard with her cries. No one comforted her, somehow that hurt her more than the truths María was yelling at her.

“I am so fucking disappointed in you, I can’t even LOOK at you right now!” María yelled one last time, shoving Ingrid’s hand off her shoulder and walking back into the restaurant.

Ingrid nods at the other girls to go back inside and finish their lunch, wanting a minute with the captain. She pulls Alexia into a tight hug, letting her cry into her neck. She’s shaking, mumbling a million apologies to no one. Ingrid shushes her, cradling her face in her hands.

“What you did was unacceptable. María said some hurtful things but she was not wrong. You’ve made the bed, now you have to lie in it. The girls are going to need some time to forgive you but I think you need to make amends with your wife first.”

Alexia nods her head, thanking Ingrid before rushing off to her car. Her hands shake as she starts the car, thoughts running through her head a million miles an hour. She wonders how she could have been so stupid, so desperate for love that she went out to find it when it was right in front of her the whole time.

You were perfect, the woman of her dreams. When her father died, you ran over to her house barefoot when she called to tell you. You ran into her house and pulled her into your arms, cradling her sobbing form as you tried to be strong for her. He was the father you never had, your own cheated on your mother so often she resented men for a long time and you swore you would never be with someone who was the same way.

When you met Alexia at 4 years old, there was an instant connection. The two of you were attached at the hip, one never seen without the other. Barcelona promoted both of you to the first team at the same time. Having just started dating and having the opportunity to go to work every day with your best friend was a dream come true.

Day by day, the two of you made things work. You two functioned like a well-oiled machine, a connection that ran so deep, that you were sure in other lifetimes you were lovers. The night of her 24th birthday, you surprised her with two tickets to the men’s team game that weekend and a little black velvet box. She immediately knew what it was and you argued, with her groaning about being the one who needed to propose cause she ‘wore the pants in the house’. You glared at her, to which she apologized, said yes, put on the ring, and made love to you all night.

The next morning, after yet another passionate round of steamy morning sex, she pulled out a matching velvet box.

“Here, bebita,” she whispered, handing you the box as you settled into her side. You gasped and opened it carefully, a beautiful diamond ring shimmered in your palm.

“My turn,” she grinned, “Will you make me the happiest woman in the world and marry me?”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

Coffee.

“Bebita!”

Alexia walks into the house in search of you, hoping you’ve come home and she could catch you before you inevitably leave.

What she doesn’t expect is for you to have company over.

“Aitana?”

You pull away from Aitana’s arms, looking back towards the door to see Alexia standing there. She’s breathing hard, tears streaks on her cheeks.

You stand, a confused Aitana remains seated on the dark couch both you and Alexia picked out when you first moved in.

“Uh, I’ll just leave-”

“No, stay.”

You walk up to Alexia, arms crossed across your chest. Her shoulders sag and her head hangs low once again.

“Can we talk…please?” she looks up at you, eyes filling with tears. Your heart begs to comfort her but you know better not to. You know you’d give in to her, her tears have always been your greatest weakness.

“I messed up, amor. I know that now, but please, we can fix this. I’ve broken it off with her, we can go for couples counseling, I’ll work harder to communicate, I’ll do anything!”

“Alexia, I love you. I think I always will. But I don’t deserve to be someone’s second choice. I deserve someone who can come to me and tell me they’re not happy. Instead, you found someone else to do that for you. You found someone else to do my job for me. I’m sorry Alexia, but we’re done.”

You step closer to her, kissing the corner of her lips. She’s shaking her head, lips begging for you to stop.

“Sign those papers I gave you, I’d like them as soon as you can please.”

“No, please! Give me a chance, bebé please!”

“I already did, Alexia. I will not do it again.”

You walk into the bedroom and grab the duffel bag you had packed, storming out to where Aitana stood dumbfounded in the living room before taking her hand and leaving the house.

Alexia feels her heart break into pieces. You did already give her a chance at redemption, how could she forget? She thinks back to that day when you were both 21, away at both your international camps.

“Bebé, hi! I’ve missed you!”

Alexia scrambled to answer her phone, pulling the covers over her naked body. She glances over at the clock and notes that it’s time for your regular phone call. You notice her disheveled hair and wonder what she’s been up to, your head cocked to the side with a curious look on your face. You shake your head and focus back on her, feeling your heart ache to be with her.

“I-I’ve missed you too, Amor! What-what are you doing?”

“I’m done with training for the day, silly. Are you already in bed, was Spanish training that hard?” you tease, grinning at her.

“Sí, it went on for hours today!” she says with a nervous laugh when suddenly there was a ruffle in the sheets. Alexia looks at the moving duvet in the corner of her eye, and you see a foot sticking out of the edge of the screen that’s not Alexia’s. She looks back at you and notices, immediately covering it up.

“Are you kidding me?” you say, voice raised in anger.

“Amor, let me explain!”

“There’s nothing to explain Alexia, we’re done! How could you?!”

“Bebita please, this was a mistake!”

It took a year of counseling for the two of you to mend the trust that was broken. Fast forward 2 years and you were walking down the aisle to marry her on the happiest day of your lives. She had kept her promise and the two of you couldn’t have been closer.

Until she broke that promise again.

Poetry.

Aitana was beautiful. She loved you in a way so different from Alexia. In the days after the divorce and the court hearings, Aitana was by your side the entire time. She was gentle and she was kind. She knew you were guarding your heart with an impenetrable fortress, but she tried every day, little by little to gain access to the sweet, caring, loving, unapologetic girl she had quietly been pining over since her days at the academy.

Aitana was the textbook definition of sunshine. She always had a big smile on her face, never letting anything get her down. She was like a pocket rocket, able to pull laughs out of you no one else ever did. She made you feel safe, secure, and loved.

Court proceedings were taking a while and in that time, you two managed to build a new life together. You had known each other a long time and turning that friendship into the most excitingly new love was easier than you thought it would be. You moved in with her, drove to training together, cooked together, and made love every way you could. She was easy to love, but a passionate lover that would move mountains for you. A part of you still loved Alexia, you knew you always would but you felt your heart grow to make space for the new best thing in your life.

“Please Aitana, fuck…”

“You like my mouth on you, princesa?”

“Yes, so fucking much…please!”

Aitana pushes your legs back, lips attached to your core as she eats you out hungrily. She groans into your pussy, eyes boring deep into yours that are filled with tears. Your hands pull on her hair, your head thumping back onto the couch you’re fucking on.

She sits up between your legs, two of her fingers pushed deep into your pussy. She kisses up your calf, free hand caressing your ass.

“Getting close, bebita?” she asks in the most innocent voice, a little smirk across her face.

You look up at her, hands holding your legs back like the good girl you’re being for her. She grins, leaning over to crash her lips to yours. You kiss back ferociously, her fingers pushing in a third that makes your eyes go back into your head.

“Aitana!” you cry out, the tips of her fingers roughly pressed up against your sweet spot. She kissed down the expanse of your neck, lips latched onto your breast when she suddenly bit down and your orgasm hit you like a freight train. You shuddered and squirmed, body convulsing hard as her fingers and palm worked you through an orgasm so hard you saw white and passed out for a second.

“You are not what you seem, baby,” you tell her panting, kissing her slowly as she cradles you in the bath after fucking you into the couch twice more.

“For you, mi amor, I’ll be anything you want.”

Alexia stood outside the courthouse with a soft smile on her face. You walked out behind her, the final hearing of your divorce was now over. You both parted on good terms, leaving nothing but good memories behind. Aitana remained by your side and you spoke to Alexia, knowing that there was nothing but love for each other that would never change.

“She makes you happy. I’m so glad she can give you what I couldn’t,” Alexia started, her expression a little sad and longing.

You lean in and kiss the corner of her lips again, lingering just a few seconds longer than you should.

“I will always love you, Ale. Never, ever forget that.”

“I won’t bebita, you’re very special to me.”

“I’ll see you on Monday at training?”

“Sí,” she waves you two off, smiling wide before saying one last thing but it’s not directed at you.

“Tana?” she calls, Aitana turns around and looks at her captain.

“Sí, capi?”

"Cuida de ella por mí, ¿quieres? Es una buena".

#aitana bonmatí #alexia putellas #woso x reader #aitana bonmati imagine #woso soccer #woso imagine #woso fanfics #fc barca femeni #woso smut #aitana bonmati smut #alexia putellas angst

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roosterforme · 3 days

Text

Covering the Classics Part 10 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Anna knew now. She knew all about Bob's poetry and how he thought about her when she wasn't even with him. Instead of it making her timid, she told him she wanted to go to his bedroom. Instead of taking it slow, he took it all the way.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, smut, oral, 18+

Length: 3200 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

Having Anna in his house again was an exercise in restraint for Bob. When he thought about tracing her freckles with his gaze, he stopped himself. When he wanted to kiss her neck while she stood in front of him while they built the bookshelf, he made sure he did nothing of the sort. It was time to organize his books now, and he had to keep himself focused. When she started to head upstairs toward the bedrooms, he tried his hardest to block out the idea of guiding her to the left and into his room instead of the spare room on the right.

The sway of her hips in her black leggings was so enticing as she climbed the stairs ahead of him. It was taking too much of his willpower to keep from reaching out to touch her, and that's how he responded poorly when she said, You have to tell me why you like poetry so much."

He barely considered his words before saying, "What's not to like? All of the emotions are there. You're allowed to write about any combination of emotions that you're feeling at any given time. And I think that's pretty cool."

Anna's steps slowed a little. "Write?" she asked, turning to look back at him as he made his way up behind her. "Did you say write?"

Oh. Oh no. Nobody knew he spent his free time tapping away at his keyboard, coming up with ideas and letting his brain run wild. And there was no way he wanted Anna to be the one to find out, especially since he'd taken to writing about her.

"Uh. I did. Yeah," he admitted, trying to think of a way to change the subject.

But she was way ahead of him. "What's something you've written?"

Bob laughed and recited a random line that was ambiguous enough for his liking. "Just some amateur gibberish like, 'Devotion woven into every breath I take. Love that knows no boundaries, no end.' Nothing amazing."

Anna was nearly to the landing at the top of the stairs when she twisted awkwardly, turning to look back at him with something akin to panic on her face.

"Bob," she croaked, and he rushed toward her as she sat down hard. He reached out gently, trying to figure out if she was hurt.

"Are you okay? Did you twist it?"

"Bob," she gasped, reaching for the front of his undershirt and pulling him closer so he was focused on her pretty face. "You're Sky Writing."

He froze, vaguely terrified by the knowledge that she was calling him by his pen name. But there was also a small part of him that was thrilled that Anna was the one saying it. Somehow it felt right for a second before it felt very, very wrong. Anna knew what he wrote. Anna knew about his romantic desires. Anna knew about his depraved wants.

"Oh, shit," he whispered as her gaze grew even more surprised.

"It's really you," she moaned softly, licking her lips and tugging him even closer. His knee came down gently on the step as he held onto her ankle, and even though the position had him covering most of her, she must have known she was in charge here. When he nodded, she started to close the distance between their lips as she whispered, "You're incredible."

Bob let his lips slam into hers as she tangled her fingers in his hair. She knew his words, and somehow she was kissing him anyway. In fact, she was wrapping her other ankle his around his waist and pulling him closer. He was certain he'd never kissed anyone on the stairs before. He was certain he'd never had an erection on the stairs before either.

He was very aware of everything right now. The sound of the rain hitting the roof and the windows. The feel of Anna's fingers tugging on his hair. The vibration of her soft moans as she kissed him. The friction between his sweatpants and her leggings.

"Anna," he gasped between kisses, but she was back on him immediately. There was no way she couldn't feel him getting hard. His gray boxer briefs could only do so much to conceal how badly he needed her, but every time he tried to ease his hips back away from her, she dug her heel in harder against his lower back.

When she released his lips, her nose glided along his until she was bumping his glasses. Her breath was soft on his face as she said, "Bob, I want you to show me the romance section in your bedroom. Please."

There was no way he could say no to her ever again.

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

Anna was shocked. Bob was Sky Writing. The poet of her wildest dreams. The man who wrote so beautifully, she could imagine herself being adored. The man who recently wrote about falling in love with a beautiful woman with intoxicating red hair.

His body was warm and strong over hers, and she wanted him everywhere. Each kiss was more perfect than the last. He told her he kept his romance novels in his bedroom, and she wanted to be treated to the same fate. She wanted to go there. When she told him as much, he started to scoop her up to her feet. In the dim lighting, she could tell his cheeks were flushed pink, and she knew she did that to him.

Bob guided her backwards up to the top step, and she knew he wouldn't let her fall. A few more stumbling steps and they were standing in his bedroom doorway with her hands holding his face and his fingers digging into her hips. "Did you write about me?" she asked softly, afraid he wouldn't be able to hear her over the rain, but too scared to speak any louder. "The new poems about the redhead?"

"I did," he replied without hesitation.

Two words and Anna's hands were trailing down the back of his neck, pulling him closer until they were kissing again. "I want you," she whimpered against his lips. "I've wanted you for months." She was weak. She was so weak for him and the way he smelled and all of his books. His hands tightened around her hips and slid down a few inches until he was holding her in place and slowly grinding his hard length against her.

"I can't stop thinking about you, Anna," he breathed as she kissed the side of his neck. "Since the first time I saw you in the bookstore."

She moaned and let him lift her up by the backs of her thighs and carry her to his bed with her arms tight around his neck. When he sat down, she was straddling his hips, and his sinful gray sweatpants did nothing to hide him from her at this point. He felt huge as she rubbed herself on his cock through all of their clothing. His big hands were up the back of her shirt, and his fingers felt rough on her skin while she licked and kissed her way to his ear.

"Show me the romance," she whispered with a smile.

"Oh. Uh..." He shifted like he was going to move toward the books stacked on his dresser where the soft light from a lamp made the room glow warm. "I have-"

"That's not the romance I want right now," she told him, and in an instant, she was laying on her back with her hands on the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Better?" he asked, running his hands up her sides where her shirt was hiked up, pressing soft kisses to her lips.

"Yes," she promised, spreading her legs wider so he could settle against her core while he pushed her shirt up over her bra. Her nipples were almost painfully hard, and then his fingers found them through the lace. "Bob," she groaned, earning herself his cock pressed to her clit. If he kept it up, she would soak her leggings. His handsome face was hovering above hers, cheeks tinted pink and lips parted, and she arched her back for him when he started to run his fingers to the back of her bra.

It had been so long since anyone touched her intimately, and here she was in a room that smelled delicious like Bob while he deftly unhooked her bra and guided it and her shirt away from her body in one smooth motion. Her body was okay; her boobs were too small, and her belly wasn't flat, but he was looking down at her and taking the time to memorize everything. Then he groaned her name before his lips found the valley between her breasts, and three seconds later she was panting.

She slowly peeled his white undershirt over his head as she could barely focus on anything except his mouth on her nipples. His glasses were crooked on his face when he looked up at her, and he sounded out of breath as she dropped his shirt to the floor. "Anna. What do you want from me?" She answered by rolling her hips up to meet his, and he squeezed his eyes closed as he said, "You want that? Because once I really get going with you, I'm not going to be able to stop."

God, that was the sexiest thing she'd ever heard. She reached down for the front of his pants and tugged at them, letting them slide down his narrow hips. He gasped a few obscenities under his breath, and goosebumps erupted on her skin. Then she slipped her fingers inside his underwear, and she was met with his thick cock.

"Yes, I want that," she promised, looking up at him and his messy hair and perfect face. "I want you."

She yelped as his big hands practically tore her leggings from her body, and then Bob settled in with his broad shoulders propping up her thighs and his mouth ghosting over her pussy. "I want you, too," he whispered before tasting her. One long swipe of his tongue turned into two and then three as she grabbed at his bedding and whined incoherently. "So fucking bad, Anna."

Had anything ever felt this good before? Bob's lips plucked at her clit as he whispered a line from his most recent poem, and she knew she was probably dripping on his bed. His hands were strong on her thighs, keeping her spread open. He buried his face in her pussy, fucking her with his tongue while she rode him. He was Sky Writing. He was Bob Floyd. He was the man her friends knew would be perfect for her from the very beginning. He was making her come.

"Fuck, fuck," she gasped as he sucked a little harder on her sensitive, swollen clit and plunged two fingers inside her. He was a bit rougher than she thought he would be, but somehow this was exactly what she needed. Her tits bounced as he finger fucked her until she got loud, and he circled her with his tongue before swiping it back and forth. He didn't rush it. He drew it slowly from her, just right. And then her orgasm left her with shaking legs and thrusting hips.

The words that fell from her mouth were unintelligible, but she put them together a little bit better as the buzzing in her ears dulled to soft, muffled whir. "Fuck me, Bob."

When he kissed her, she could taste herself. He kept his mouth on hers while he wrestled himself the rest of the way out of his clothing, and then his fingers were stroking her slit, making her shake more. His wet fingers moved to her thigh where he traced a gentle pattern as he said, "All of these freckles. That's all I can think about. The shapes they make when you connect the pretty, little dots. How I could spell out my name with them."

"Oh my god," she moaned. "Oh!" His heavy cock came to rest on her pussy as he continued stroking her skin, and his lips found their way back along her breasts.

"I wondered for months if your shirts were hiding more of them from me. Was dying to know if your tits were decorated as well." He ran his tongue in a lazy circle around one nipple as he grunted. "They are everywhere, and I want to taste all of them."

Anna was going to combust as Bob took a fistful of her red hair and slid himself down to her opening. He pushed himself in an inch, and she was already crying out for more. Another inch, and she was forcing her thighs open as far as they would go. He was licking and kissing her shoulders and collar bones while he slowly filled her until she hiccupped with need. He was so big, stretching her as her hands scrambled on his shoulders. And then he was fucking her, muttering like a mad man about freckles and the color red and how much he wanted her. His muscles rippled with intent beneath her fingers while he moved. This was already the best she'd ever had.

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

As the rain beat a rushed pattern on the bedroom windows, Bob moved at his own pace, needing this to last as long as possible. She was the woman of his dreams, panting and mewling beneath him as he fucked her. He couldn't keep his lips off of that one freckle next to her right nipple, and he didn't want to. Her skin felt like the smoothest silk, and she was beautiful when she was whining his name.

With a fistful of her red hair, he thrust harder, deeper, and his narrow hips pushed into those perfect thighs, already spread wide for him. She was soft everywhere as she took him, and the gentle bounce of her tits was mesmerizing.

Then he felt that first squeeze, and he shivered as Anna's fingers dug into the back of his neck. She looked surprised as he released her nipple in favor of her lips, licking at the pretty freckles on her cheek before he kissed her. He had her bottom lip tucked between his as she clenched his cock again and gasped his name. That's all he wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

"Say it again," he murmured, and when he bottomed out, he was treated to her gasping voice once more. He stroked her temple with his thumb, drawing his name out of her again and again as she looked up at him with wide, brown eyes. She knew exactly who was doing this to her, and Bob wanted to be sure she remembered how it felt when her pussy started to milk him. She had to be close, and he was too as he told her, "Say it one more time."

Her voice was soft and lighter than air. "Bob." Then her head tipped back as he fucked her with a dozen intentional strokes, pressing against her clit until she got loud. She was clenching him harder as her hips came up off of his bed, and she cried out as she clung to him. Her legs were shaking, and her fingers were tugging at his hair, and the next few strokes into her tight pussy were just for him.

"Anna," he gasped as his glasses slid down his nose. He felt the familiar pull at the base of his spine. It was a warning, and he knew it. "Do I need to pull out?" But she was just starting to come down from her second orgasm, and all she seemed to be able to do was look up at him with a dreamy expression that he didn't want to see vanish yet. He kissed her lips gently even as he thrusted deep and whispered, "Baby, do I need to pull out?"

She was shaking her head just slightly from side to side, and he was afraid to take that as the answer he was looking for, but he didn't want to pull out. He wanted to cum inside her. After he asked one more time, she finally whispered, "No." And then it was a done deal. He filled her up, practically shouting her name as she kissed along his jaw and chin, completely sated and soft underneath him.

Bob smiled at Anna and buried his face against her neck and shoulder, fighting the urge to tell her exactly how much she meant to him. He was still deep inside her as he kissed her ear and whispered her name, and soft laughter bubbled from her lips. His fingers were still tangled in her hair, but his grasp was gentler now. He would get up and make dinner for her, and then maybe she would want to join him in the shower before snuggling in bed. If she wanted to go for round two, he wouldn't say no. Perhaps he could convince her to sleep over and let him drop her off at her place early on Monday morning. They could read some poetry together. Maybe he could even read what he'd written about her on PoetsAmongUs.

Feeling better than he had in months, he started to pull himself free from her inviting body. He let his soft cock slip free, watching as his thick cum dribbled out of her, and he moaned before she sat up slightly. He kissed her knee before he asked, "Want me to make you a grilled cheese sandwich for dinner? I usually burn them, but I'll make sure yours is perfect. And then maybe we can talk about us?"

He was rubbing his fingers along her ankle where there was a particularly attractive cluster of freckles when she abruptly sat up. Her brown eyes were wild as she repeated, "Us?" Bob was nodding, his smile tentative now, but it faded into nothing as she yanked her ankle away and scrambled off of his bed. "Oh no," she whispered, and he watched in horror as tears filled her eyes as she pulled her clothing back on.

"Anna?" he asked softly, climbing out of bed next to her and reaching for his sweatpants. "What's.... did I do something wrong?"

"No," she sobbed, swiping at her tears while refusing to meet his eyes as she slipped her shirt over her bra and turned toward his bedroom door. "You always do everything right. That's why I couldn't help myself."

Now he found himself chasing her down the stairs. He watched her pick up her phone and shove her feet into her shoes. "I don't understand," he whispered, running his hands through his hair as he stood there and watched her wrench his front door open.

The sound of the rain got louder as she pushed open the screen door, but he could still clearly hear every word she said to him with pure agony on her face. "I'm so sorry, Bob. I'm married."

And then she was gone, running out into the rainy night while his door swung closed with a loud bang.

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

He really rocked her world, too. Why is he so hot? Why is she such a mess? I love them so much. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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#bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd fic #robert floyd imagine #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fanfiction #robert floyd x oc #robert floyd #robert floyd fic #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #covering the classics

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saccadesoup · 4 months

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random tim thoughts. i have been thinking about him a lot lately

- gets flustered SO easily,,, tease him even slightly and that’s it. he’s bright red. stuttering. thinking ab it for the rest of the day.

- speaking of stuttering: had a really bad stutter as a kid. got put in speech therapy and now it’s mostly gone but it does come back slightly when he’s upset/stressed

- either has the most horrific, realistic, fear-inducing nightmares or unhinged fever dreams. like it’s either “i just watched faceless shadow figures tear into jay and hang his guts on the wall then i had to run but i couldn’t so they did it to me next” or “i had to rescue lady gaga who was also the queen of norway from an evil piece of toast then we made out”

- secretly enjoys ABBA (would rather die than admit it)

- COLLECTS VINYLS you cannot tell me this man isn’t a vinyl elitist. keeps them neatly organised and will pitch a fit if you even breathe on them wrong

- writes a shit ton of lyrics that’ll never see the light of day. it’s basically his version of writing poetry

- went to college for music composition but never put out any of the stuff he wrote (he thought people wouldn’t like it), it’s all kept on usb sticks in the attic tho cause he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of all the songs he poured his young little heart and soul into

- can fall asleep anywhere anytime during the day, but the MOMENT he gets into bed at night. he’s awake. cant sleep. not happening.

- generalised anxiety disorder i’m not elaborating

- overthinks every interaction he ever has

- however. he’s also a stubborn bastard. communicates in sarcasm and affectionate insults

- has the most beautiful, deep, rich singing voice... such a warm baritone. think david le'aupepe from Gang of Youths

- snores like an old man he literally sounds like a freight train

#the soup mind #he’s so babyboy #i need to hold him close and kiss him gently #and stroke his hair and tell him i love him #AUGHFJSKSK #he’s like a sad awkward dog w those sad awkward dog eyes #marble hornets #mh headcanons #tim wright

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leighsartworks216 · 6 months

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Brown Eyes

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Wrote this really quick. Idk if I'm happy with the ending but I wanted to write something before I go do work until probably midnight

Based on this post by @lumar014ad

Warnings: swearing, slight sexual implications??

Word Count: 670

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You gently trace under his eye, trailing your finger down his cheek until he catches it in his hand. He lifts your knuckles to his lips, feather light and meaningful. It was perhaps his favorite way of showing affection.

You hum. “You have such nice eyes, Star.” It was a delicate subject, and certainly not one you enjoyed broaching, but the thought was implanted in your mind since you caught a glance at yourself this morning. Your hair, wild and untamed. Your cheeks, flush from exertion. And your eyes. “It’s like looking into a barrel of wine. Deep and rich.”

Astarion grinned, but it was tempered. He didn’t like focusing on his vampiric traits. “Not half as lovely as yours, love.” You couldn’t stop your scoff; it had been entirely unintentional. You flushed as he raised a brow at you.

“They’re just brown. They’re not that special.”

He frowns, pulling your hand from his lips. He looks almost pained to think you would ever thing any part of your person, no matter how small, was anything but unique and wonderful. “Don’t be silly, darling,” he chastises lightly. “They’re not just brown.”

You hum, unconvinced. “You’re right. They’re shit brown.” You chuckle, but he frowns deeper. Uh oh.

One moment, you lay beside each other in bed, close as you could be. The next, he rolled you over onto your back and straddled your hips, hands cupping your cheeks. He could feel the warmth beneath his fingers as he tilted your head so the candle light caught them just so.

“They’re so much more than brown, my dear.” He leans down and presses a kiss just below your eye. “When the sun catches them, they’re golden; a warm and hardy ale. Sweet and soft like melted caramel, especially when you look at me.”

You don’t miss the smirk that paints his lips as he teases you. You can hardly be embarrassed when you know it’s true. Besides, he did the same with you. How many times now had you caught him watching you with such fondness, so much that it overflowed from his eyes into a tender smile and relaxed shoulders?

He kisses his way across the bridge of your nose. He doesn’t take his eyes from yours. The prolonged eye contact only flusters you further. “The color of deep, rich soil after summer rain. Oh, don’t even get me started on how they look at night, when every star reflects in your eyes.”

His lips brush yours for just a moment. His hands holding your face keep you still, so you can’t chase after them. Your hands slide up his thighs to his waist and grab onto the bottom of his sleep shirt.

“Even now, dove, you look at me with shimmering jewels. Amber and topaz and jasper.” He catches your mouth again. A restrained passion keeps him contained, as though he simply couldn’t resist kissing you again when you looked at him like that. He sighs longingly as he pulls away, remaining close enough that his nose brushes yours. “A million things - but never shit.”

You squeeze his hips playfully, but your eyes are half-lidded as you stare up at him. “This was meant to be flattery,” you repeat his own words back at him, “not poetry.”

He smirks. You feel it rather than see it; he’s so close. “How can I resist with you, my love? Now, where was I?”

You look away bashfully. “I think you’ve made your point, dear. You can stop now.”

“Not yet, darling. I don’t think I’ve fully captured each aspect of your lovely eyes. I haven’t even told you how they look when you’ve had too much wine, or the way the firelight catches to make them burn. In fact…” He sits up, catching your eye again as the movement attracts your attention. He looks quite self-satisfied, like the cat that got the cream. “I think we’re going to be busy all night; until you realize just how gorgeous your eyes are.”

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars @sylverqueen_cosplay @yarn_yogi @tototini @teardropcup @ashrio20 @bambamwolf87 @astarion-imagine-archive

#fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldur's gate tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #fluff

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rentsturner · 8 months

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Bruised Knuckles - A.T

Warnings; reader has punched a wall, mentions/descriptions of injury, mentions of (non-specified) scars, content that some people may find as very similar to self-harm, reader is paranoid and insecure. If any of this triggers you pls don’t continue to read. a/n: I originally wrote this about a different person but I've rewritten it for Al for a bit of comfort after a rough few days. If you don't like it, don't read it. Thanks @martinipoliz for being my hype man

It’s a cold day in London, the skies grey and cloudy over the city.It’s been a long day without Alex. He’s been out since the early morning at the recording studio, the boys being in the middle of recording their next album, leaving you to spend the day alone in your tiny apartment. As much as you don’t want to admit it, the isolation has gotten to you - you slipped, more than once. Yeah, you regret it, but also there’s that nagging need for more at the back of your mind. You try to push it out, to forget about it, but the cold in the air doesn’t help to ease the ache in your knuckles.

The door to the apartment shuts with a click and a jangle of keys, footsteps heading towards the door, the click of Alex’s boots rhythmic on the hardwood floor. He’s back. A wave of relief floods you, before you remember and your chest clenches in panic.

‘Alright, love?’ Alex flops onto the bed with a lazy grin, stretching his arms up over his head.

‘Yeah, fine, you?’ Keep it simple. You busy yourself with a stack of books by the bed, straightening the pile of your shared novels so it’s not about to topple over. Keep the hand busy.

‘Yeah, alright. I missed you. Took us so long to record one of the new songs, Cookie kept messing up the solo so we all just ended up leaving it for the day.’

You nodded along and let him recount the rest of the story. You’re admiring the way his dark lashes flutter against his pale skin and how his arms flex as his hands come to rest behind his head, when you realise that Alex has stopped talking. And you’ve stopped moving.

‘Your knuckle…” his eyes dart down to the hand you’ve been trying to hide ever since he walked through the door. Busted.

‘Oh.’ You move to get up, anything to get his eyes away from your swollen knuckles, red lines criss-crossing over the flowering purple bruises where your hand collided with a solid brick wall. Multiple times. The open cuts are still weeping, even though it had happened hours ago.

‘It’s nothing, just tripped on the stairs. Don’t worry about it.’ You offer a small smile, but it doesn’t fool Alex.

‘No.’ He moves as you do, standing in front of the bedroom door to block your escape. His arms are crossed over his chest, stance serious, but the worry in his brown eyes betrays him. ‘Love. Let me see it.’

He holds out his hand, pale fingers reaching out to you, calloused fingertips brushing against your wrist gently. He knows how to help. The hand reaching, an offer of support, reassurance, love, all those things that you crave but can never admit. Emotions aren’t your forté - never have been.But Alex knows that. There’s no secrets between you. You almost laugh out loud at the thought. No secrets, but you won’t even show him your hand.

Alex would do anything for you, you know that - he tells you all the time. Days spent in bed chatting shit to each other.

‘I’d write a whole album just for you, y’know?’

‘Would you now, Al? I think I’d prefer a book of poetry.’

‘Well I’d write that as well. In a heartbeat.’

Bright eyes, wide smile. Your Alex. He’s joking, of course, but his tone is so serious, his answer without a second of hesitation. Your heart skips a beat.

So now, you give him your hand (and your heart).

He takes it tentatively, one warm hand underneath, the other poking at your raw knuckles gently. When one of his prods reaches a tender spot, you wince and he moves his finger away, meeting your gaze in apology.

‘You punch something?’ His brow creases, a hand running instinctively over his unruly locks, before scratching at the back of his neck. He’s been growing his hair out recently, letting the brown strands begin to curl around his ears, not using as much gel in it as he used to. He looks gorgeous. Then again, he could shave his head and you’d still think he was the best looking man on earth.

The sting in your hand brings you back to the present.

‘No.’ You look away from Alex’s gaze, knowing that in doing so you’ll give yourself away, but not having the energy or willpower to stop yourself. Much like the ‘incident’ earlier in the day.

‘I’m going to take that as a yes.’ Alex huffs, not in anger, but in frustration - frustration that he wasn’t there to help, to calm you down. ‘Let me clean it up, give me a sec.’

His hand rubs at his eyes, scrunched shut for a moment. There’s dark bags marring his pale skin there - he’s tired too, the long days at the studio beginning to get to him. He goes to move to the bathroom, but you grab his arm with your good hand, gripping it as tight as you can. Don’t leave.

‘No, Al, it’s alright, I’ll sort it.’

But he shakes his head. He doesn’t look happy. Not that you’d expect him to, but…he’s getting frustrated with you, you can tell.

‘You can’t clean yourself up with one hand. Just wait here, alright?’

The inkling is worming its way in now, from your subconscious to your conscious, until it's at the forefront of your mind. He’s angry, he’s disgusted, he’s going to leave. He’s not going to the bathroom, he’s going to the front door so he can get out of here. You’re sure of it. He’ll call Matt or Miles and tell them how crazy you are, how he can’t deal with it any longer.

‘I’m sorry.’ The whisper escapes you and you have to bite the inside of your cheek so no tears will spill. The words are almost silent, your hand dropping Alex’s in defeat.

But Alex turns his head at your weak apology, stopping in his tracks.

‘What? Why -‘

With a jolt, he notices the way you’ve changed - unable to look at him, arms beginning to wrap around yourself, one fist clenched. He knows what’s happening.

‘No, no, love, I’m not angry.’

He’s back at your side in a heartbeat, bringing his hand up to your chest, thumb carefully wiping away the rogue tear that’s tracking a salty path over your cheekbone.

‘I love you. I just want the best for you, alright? I don’t like seeing you hurt, just like I’d fucking hope you wouldn’t like seeing me hurt.’

His face breaks into a sad smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and you realise he’s right - of course he is. You don’t want to see him hurt, but that’s what you’re doing. He’s hurting just from seeing your hand, it’s obvious from the crease in his brow, the usual bright glint of his eyes dulled and flat. Alex has got too much to deal with already, you’re just one extra problem to add to the mix. You don’t want to be his problem.

And suddenly it’s all coming up to the surface, ready to combust, explode, these emotions that you never really have a grip on. You bottle them up and push them down, so far down that the only way they can escape is through a rush of anger, jagged and uncontrollable.

But instead of that, you bury your face into Al’s neck and let it out as slowly as you can.

‘I’m sorry, I was angry, I just wanted to feel something. Some pain. I don’t want to make you feel like this. I’m sorry.’

You’re clutching onto the fabric of his dress shirt like your life depends on it, trying to push the thought of how expensive it probably is to the back of your mind. You can’t possibly let go of him - he's the only one you have left.

Alex is steady, your rock in a storm of emotions. He listens, stroking your hair, long fingers threading through the strands to knead at your scalp, knowing it tends to calm you down.

‘You’re alright, I promise. I promise you, love. I know you get angry. I know you. And I know what it’s like to want to feel something, trust me, I’m far from innocent myself, you know I've had some bad times. We can get through it together, or we can be a mess together. I don’t care, as long as we’re together, honest. I’m not going anywhere.’

And the sincerity in his eyes, those familiar bright brown doe eyes, it convinces you. He means it.

You stay like this for a few minutes, your good hand clinging onto Alex’s shirt sleeve, the other grasped tightly (but not too tightly) in Alex’s grip. His right arm is around your waist, pulling you closer, as if in doing so he can pour all of his reassurance, all of his love, directly to your heart. He knows it’s not possible. But he tries anyway. Because he’ll do anything for you. Your Alex.

He helps you clean your hand later, shushing you everytime you wince (though that isn’t often). His hands are steady and confident as he dabs at the cuts with alcohol, wrapping the gauze over your knuckles and securing it with some tape, humming to himself as he works, the steady tune in time with his deft movement. You wonder if it's one of the songs from the new album - some of them he will share with you, some of them he prefers to keep as a surprise for the release. He doesn’t look up until the job is done - and a good job it is too. Alex kisses the bandages gently when he’s done - a silent ‘I love you. I care for you and I love you.’

And you smile, a smile that fills your whole body with warmth, a smile that drowns out the demons, if only for a little while. Because how can you not, when you have Alex. He tries his best and so do you - neither of you can ask anymore. You’ll be a mess together.

‘Let’s order takeaway and watch Blade Runner, eh?’

Or you’ll get through this together.

#Alex turner #Alex turner x reader #alex turner fanfic #Alex turner x f!reader #arctic monkeys

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trutrustories · 6 months

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STUDY IN LOKI ROMANCE Part 1: Ouroboros

Since we're only a few days away from the last episode, I decided to COUNT DOWN everything we´ve got so far ( that can be interpreted very easily as romantic ) and discuss what the actual fuck is going on with second season. Because even though I shipped lokius practically from S1E2, I absolutely did NOT expect this kind of development. (Not that I´m complaining) Warning: This is gonna be LONG post, lots of screenshots, lots of SPOILERS, lot of "oh-my-god-they-so-cute" language, and little bit of meta. I originally thought that this post would be everything at once, but since I have just too many screenshots this time around, I´ll have to split it. so every post will be one episode. Color coding means:

IIIIIIIIII = anything, that coud potentialy be just acting choice.

IIIIIIIIII = everything else (tzn.: whatever was written, and/or carefully prepared by filmmakers. )

side note: I already wrote, about how amazing it is, that Mobius is unable to fight but fights anyway and how beautifuly, and ridiculously brave he is HERE. But this is about Loki/Mobius interactions, so I´ll try my best not to talk about THAT. (Even when I´m really happy, that s2 continues with this formula and Mobius is still his completely defenseless while aggressively brave self. I love him, btw.)

Soooo EPISODE 1, le´t go: 1)"Mobius It´s me!" few second in and we have slowmo chasing scene with detail on Loki, and Mobius and then THIS Loki´s heartbreaking look on his face here.

2) "Tell me, you recognize me!" (Loki trying to desperetly find Mobius, and then running towards him) Also If this Time slipping didn´t triggered anything external, but It´s just his own, unlocked power - I honestly don´t know, how they will explain that - does that mean, that he unknowingly unlocked this power, because he was send by Silvie into the past, and then he was simply desperete and Mobius couldn´t recognized him so his body reacted by time slipping to place and time, where Mobius would know who he is???

3) this very unexpected exhibition of touches (meaning Mobius practicaly glueing himself to Loki for this entire section)

I´m sorry, but my man here is like "no, I´m not about to let you have a personal space. NOT. AN. OPTION. let me hold you some more" xD

4) This scene in in an elevator first of all, that was a second time, he slipped and was RIGHT back with Mobius, the very next second. secondly: Mobius being scared for Loki and insisting he needs immediate help thirdly: Loki reassuring Mobius, It´s not that bad.

also this "we just had sex in a cabin" shot:

and lastly...

Big thanks to the film crew for this shot to give us an idea just HOW MUCH OF AN UNUSED SPACE was in the elevator! 👌

5) Mobius and Loki talking to OB. being perfectly coordinated team and smoothly working together, while standing on a same spot, but in a completely different time.

poetry... just poetry!

6) Distressed God and his Happy Face just so we know: how long is it, since their reunion? Because I would swear that not even five minutes ago Loki was in state of complete panic, and look at him now:

Look at him smiling, enjoying view at struggling mobius 💚

few minutes with this man, and HE forgets all about his trauma and just vibing.

me too, Loki. Me too 🥲

btw, this thing over here?!!!!

7) bickering, like married couple, part 1

8) "Mobius if I don´t make it back" and "You´ll make it back". What was it, what where you about to say Loki? It sounded important! next time TALK FASTER!

9) Mobius risking his life SKIN for loki and refusing to give up on him.

10) Loki saves Mobius in an epic fashion and they end up in a hug: also they roll around the floor together

I mean... this whole scene was absolute TOP! So yeah. That was a first episode. before the premiere I was litteraly hoping, that I will see our Loki and our Mobius together at least ONCE, before first end credits. I actually couldn´t believe my own eyes, holy shit!

#loki spoiler #loki season 2 #lokius #loki #mobius #mobius m mobius #loki and mobius #s02e01 #ouroboros

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quimichi · 16 days

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i need more content about Akito!! hes so cute!! :D

『 ↳✧･ﾟ MORE RANDOM AKITO HCS ;

TW: stalking, talk about gore and death, unhealthy obsession, yandere, twisted behavior

SUMMARY: just random Akito (oc) headcanons

CHARACTERS: Akito (oc) X F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 409

*character in the banner: Yoshiki from the summer hikaru died

¡! ❞ this is what I imagined Akito to look like, heavily inspired by Yoshiki from the summer hikaru died

¡! ❞ one of his many positives is that he looks so normal, boring even. No one would expect someone so basic looking to have bad intentions right? Look at him! Those puppy eyes hold innocence!

¡! ❞ and his dark aesthetic is useful for when he sneaks around your house

¡! ❞ oh and did you know he actually took a few pics? He has a whole album of them. Yk its the most basic stalker shit

¡! ❞ But don't worry, not all of them are dirty. Some are just from your room, zoomed in and out. On different days and stuff. He finds beauty in your mess and tidyness. And if he ever catches you in the bath/shower...he looks away. Its wrong for him to look, his eyes don't deserve to see you in your full glory....yet at least.

¡! ❞ But dirty pics you ask?...mostly your used underwear or clothes.

¡! ❞ don't worry, he would NEVER break in. Even if your window is a bit open or anything, he got manners (yes but no)

¡! ❞ He writes you poetry! Its mostly about you ofc. And his feelings.

¡! ❞ ❞ I would bleed out if you'd tell me you like the color red ❞

¡! ❞ ❞ I love you like death I love you like the mould that eats me up Like the maggots feasting on me I love you like you're life Like giving me air to breath I love you like I don't deserve you Like the most disgusting beast ❞

¡! ❞ (I'm so sorry I never EVER wrote poetry in my life--)

¡! ❞ oh did i talk about the fact that he uh has a thing for gore-. He loves a little intense yk-thats a discussion for much later cause ya'll aren't ready for it yet-

¡! ❞ baby boy has a diary, writes about you and the different beautys he saw. Like two birds singing together, dogs playing, children laughing or the simple taste of a morning coffee.

¡! ❞ oh and btw he has a Polaroid camera, he always carries it with him. But when he takes pictures around you, he has to stick to his phone.

¡! ❞ and while were talking about his phone already, his lockscreen is him with his family, but his wallpaper....is a picture of you sleeping in your bed.

TAGLIST: @lucienbarkbark @hehothrowawayfae

#male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere male #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere x female reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #Akito #oc x reader #oc

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itsthesinbin · 9 months

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Worth (Megatron/Reader)

i gotta do everything MYSELF around here since NO ONE sent me any earthspark megatron requests!!!!!!

i wrote this very quick at almost 2 am so if its bad..... shut up

Warnings: Mentions of reader being injured (non-graphic), mentions of blood (non-graphic)

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Megatron was a stubborn old bot. Sure, he’d given up on his more outwardly dangerous and volatile ideals. The internal ones, though… Those were a struggle to get rid of. Like the ones where he was sure he wasn’t fully worthy of some things. Pleasure and love being at the top of his list, after everyone he had harmed and betrayed. He appreciated the chances he was given and the friendships he had made, of course. But more than that… He knew he didn’t deserve such things.

You made that part of his ideals difficult.

You were a friend of the Terrans, after a bit of an incident that had taken place while out on a walk. You became a sort of babysitter, after you were able to be trusted. Megatron remembered the thrum in his spark the first time he met you- seeing you using your tiny hands to help Jawbreaker with a little painting project you had put together for everyone. The little twinkle in your eye if you asked if he wanted to join.

“I don’t really have a brush big enough though,” you had joked. “I could try and find a really soft broom?” A couple giggles sounded through the children, and even the cranky old mech couldn’t help but crack a smile. Of course, he was more than content to watch while he waited for you all to be finished so the Terrans could train. You had sat with him while they finished, working on your own piece while you became his silent company.

Megatron was surprised you had immediately trusted him enough to sit with him so easily.

You two saw each other often, after that. A Terran always brought you along, nearly as inseparable from you as they were from their human siblings. And every time, you found a way to have your talks with him when the children were busy. He couldn’t help but ask why, one day.

“You always looked lonely,” you answered with a smile. You didn’t elaborate further, simply falling back into the topic from before. That familiar thrum ran through him.

As time went on, the feeling in his spark began to scare him. He was fond of you, sure, but you deserved something… normal. You didn’t deserve an old warlord with blood and energon staining his hands.

Oh how he wished, though. To confess to you. To hold you. To learn those little human courtship quirks that are so different from his own. Every time he was with you, he had to bite his glossa to keep from asking you to come away with him so you could talk. He had even gotten through his writer’s block. Words flowing from his fingers as he poured his spark out onto the datapad in his next piece of you-centric poetry. He was so ashamed of himself that not even Optimus could get to such a file.

And then you were injured.

A rogue Decepticon on the run happened to take a human hostage. It was an unfortunately common occurrence, especially if the con posed as an Uber or something similar. Megatron was ready to just get it over with. Then he saw you dangling from the con’s hand, half unconscious.

Megatron saw red.

Normally, he tried to be civil first- especially when a hostage was involved. But all of his training- all of his teachings from Optimus- melted from his mind in an instant. He was back to before. A cold, unfeeling machine that only knew selfish need and vengeance. He was lucky Optimus and Elita were there to keep him from killing the mech. He didn’t even hear Elita’s question of “what the frag is going on, Megatron” as he scooped up your frail form. He ignored his comrades as he transformed and began the flight to Dorothy’s home.

He didn’t trust GHOST for shit.

Megatron loved you. He realized this as he agonized having to part with your bloodied little body to allow Dorothy and Alex to heal you. He realized this as he felt his frame tremble. He realized this as he overheard Twitch say she had never seen him this distraught over anything.

Megatron realized it as he watched your sleeping form through Dorothy’s window late into the night. She was kind enough to keep the blinds up and curtains open, so he had a clear view. His optics were locked onto the rise and fall of your chest. As long as that moved, you were fine. As long as you weren’t still, you’d talk to him again.

Everyone had long since left to rest, although a few tried to get him into the barn as well. He knew he wouldn’t be able to rest comfortably until your eyes opened. Until you smiled at him again. His spark ached.

He didn’t deserve you. You didn’t deserve an old, broken soul like him. He was stuck between two states of mind: wanting to tell you his feelings, and wanting to keep them to himself so it can’t be used against him. A con managed to harm you just by chance. He couldn’t imagine the target on your back if you were on the way to possibly becoming his Conjux.

You shifted in his sleep and his spark lept in his chest cavity. It dropped again when you simply fell back into an uneasy rest. He sighed shakily, placing his head in his hand. He could almost laugh.

The mighty Megatron, brought to his knees- quite literally- by a human. The very species he had sought to eradicate to take the Earth’s energy and use it as his own. The irony is not lost on him, even in his distress. He smiled slightly, lifting his gaze back to your frail little body.

“No matter what happens next, you’ll be safe with me,” he whispered to you, although he knew you couldn’t hear. Megatron simply spoke the promise to reassure himself. Maybe by doing this, he’d earn the right to be yours. If you’d have him.

Guess he’d have to wait to know if you would.

#transformers #transformers earthspark #megatron #megatron x reader #tfe

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