#‘Is this about—‘ yes it’s about every adaption you’re thinking about

[star--nymph]

some random rec on tumblr/tiktok/reddit: this Persephone and Hades retelling is so good! it;s so romantic and feminist and really puts a spin on the myth

said retelling: Hades and Persephone were actually in love and Demeter just threw a hysteric fit because she's a borderline abusive helicopter parent and oop now she's a terrible in-law keeping these soulmates apart hijinks ensue

[screampied]

toji realizes he’s in love with you when he lets you shave his face for the first time,

he’s got the biggest grump of a scowl plastered on his naturally crooked lips. as he’s glowering, he’s also trying to prevent himself from smiling because you looked so cute. your touch with him was gentle—like it always was. after you wiped his face with a dampened face towel, you rub your hands against the lower part of his jaw. “soooo,” you utter, breaking the dead silence as he’s just peering down at you. “tell me ‘bout your day, toji.”

with the palms of your hands tenderly caressing against his chiseled jawline—you smear every part of his chin and cheekbones with shaving cream. even the secluded areas underneath his nose. as you do so, toji tchs. “day was fine, baby. ‘n i told ya i can shave myself.”

“i know i know,” you hum, creating a circular motion with your hands before gently making sure every sector near the lower part of his face was lathered with nice frothy amounts of shaving cream. “wowww, you’ve got such soft skin. skin routine when?”

“ugh, y’er insufferable,” he rolls his eyes. although, his skin was surprisingly clear. toji only had a bit of a stubble, hardly any facial hair but it was growing the more he aged. you took it upon yourself to ask to help him shave and he said yes, not realizing how much he’d soon grow to like it. the feeling of your delicate, warm hands rubbing against his face was somewhat . . soothing. with a deep, heaving sigh, toji’s hooded jade eyes meet yours. he spots your pout and his shoulders lower. “alright fine, i’ll teach you one day. only if ya stop poutin'..”

with a cheeky grin, your little pout falters and you smile. “okay,” and you wait for about a good three minutes to allow the spumous cream to souse everywhere on his pores. it takes a while—and as you wait, you take a moment to stare at his features. toji was definitely easy on the eyes up close. naturally long black lashes of his flicker as he returns your loving gaze, and he avoids eye contact for a moment. perhaps you were making him a bit . . nervous. darkened eyebrows of his arch into an almost sheepish raise while he watches your adorable curious simper stretch further. “don’t be so stiff, what are you, nervous?”

“not nervous. jus’ don’t want ya to cut my face off.” he grumbles in a hoarse tone, ogling intently at you opening the bathroom cabinet for his razor. “you know what y’er doin’ right? i’d like ‘ta keep my face.”

“oh, don’t be dramatic,” and now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. toji’s got a growing smirk tugging against his lips as he gawks you carefully start to shave in the exact sectors of where his facial hair resides. you did lots and lots of research—he knew this because he caught you reading various wikiHow articles on how to shave a guy’s face correctly. toji would never in a million years tell you, but he found that fact entirely adorable. you made sure you knew how to avoid burns and razor bumps. as you’re fixated on his chin, you mumble, “you’ll keep your pretty face, don’t cry.”

“aw, think ‘m pretty?” toji says, and you see the playful glint in his eyes. he’s easing up a bit, and he acknowledges that you were right. right about his stiffness, he was a bit tense. shoulders raised and all, but now—as of late, he’s starting to calm down a bit the more you talk to him. “i’d prefer the term 'handsome' but that works too, i guess.”

you deadpan, continuing your trail against his face—the razor sings out a shrieking tiiiing the more you gingerly shave with soft, gentle strokes.

it’s somewhat relaxing with the way the edges of the instrument adapts to the chiseled contours on his face. the foam starts to come off within each downward stroke and you’re very slow and precise. “okay, don’t be cocky,” you titter, and he feels his heart flutter a bit at how you’re just so dedicated. you’re so focused that your tongue briefly sticks out of your mouth, trying to make sure you do it perfectly. you tried your hardest not to cut him—you were so careful and that simple detail alone could have been enough for him to propose. “you should let me do this more. ‘s kinda fun.”

“eh. maybe,” toji shrugs, his voice coming out in a rough rasp. he doesn’t even realize it but his expressions significantly soften. he was only this way around you. to him, the thought of that was kind of scary. after you start to edge with the precision trimmer and reach underneath his nose and chin, you wrap it up. successfully discarding all of the foamy cream from his face, spotting his now clean jawline, you break away to rinse off the now grubby blades in the sink. “all done?”

“wait— don’t look yet,” you gasp, preventing him from gazing at himself in the mirror. “i still have to do the uh . . what’s it called again?”

toji snickers. “aftershave, baby.”

“aftershave,” you repeat. “right right,” and you’re so cute, kneeling down towards the wooden cabinet directly underneath the sink. you take out the mini bottle, pouring a nice goopy amount into your palm. you let toji wash his face with cold water first, patting it dry, and then you start to bedaub the facial balm in all the sensitive areas against his skin. he adores the mushy texture of your hands making contact with his face as each second passes. toji’s eyeing you, an almost grunt leaving his lips as a thumb of yours gently tickles against his infamous scar. the scar that slants itself near the right side of his lip. “thereee we go,” you give him a soft smile, the aromatic scent of tea tree oil setting against your nostrils. up close, his pores were now all so clear and you stare in awe for a bit at just how charming he was. the moisture that lays against his skin feels a lot more smooth. you grow silent for a moment before your own face softens. “okayyy, ‘m done.”

toji finally glances into the mirror, seeing his freshly new spotless face and he sees your proud toothy grin in the mirror’s reflection behind him. he cranes his neck to the side, feeling the once rough texture of his jawline now soft. he then lets off a tiny exhale. “looks good. y’er a natural,” and he turns to face you, he’s pondering on what to say. oh, your eyes sparkled with such admiration from his praise that it was just adorable. “thank you, sweetheart. for y’know . . takin’ care of me. y’er really . . sweet.”

and with that, his lips inch down to press a warm kiss against the crown of your head. your heart immediately swarms up with a frantic school of butterflies and so does his. toji prepares speak again and it’s an almost inaudible mumble. you could barely even register what he said at first because it was so hushed, but toji gruffs in a low tone. “i … love you..”

“h- huh?”

scoffing, he hides the burning embarrassed flush against his face by pulling you into his broad chest. you giggle at how he just abruptly snatches you close into his warm body before he slings a beefy arm around you. “i said, let’s uh.. do our skin care together later t’night.”

“awww i love you too toj—”

“oh my god, s-shut up..”

[friendshiptothemax]

I was on a plane this weekend, and I was chatting with the woman sitting next to me about an upcoming writer’s strike. “Do you really think you’re mistreated?” she asked me.

That’s not the issue at stake here. Let me tell you a little something about “minirooms.”

Minirooms are a way of television writing that is becoming more common. Basically, the studio will hire a small group of writers, 3-6 or so, and employ them for just a few weeks. In those few weeks (six weeks seem to be common), they have to hurriedly figure out as much about the show as they can -- characters, plots, outlines for episodes. Then at the end of the six weeks, all the writers are fired except for the showrunner, who has to write the entire series themselves based on the outlines.

This is not a widespread practice, but it has become more common over the past couple of years. Studios like it because instead of paying for a full room for the full length of the show, they just pay a handful of writers for a fraction of the show. It’s not a huge problem now, but the WGA only gets the chance to make rules every three years -- if we let this go for another three years and it becomes the norm? That would be DEVASTATING for the tv writing profession.

Do I feel like I’m mistreated? No. I LOVE my job! But in a world of minirooms, there is no place for someone like me -- a mid-level writer who makes a decent living working on someone else’s show (I’d like to be a showrunner someday, but for now I feel like I still have a lot to learn, and my husband and I are trying to start a family so I like not being support rather than the leader for now). In a miniroom, there are only two levels -- the handful of glorified idea people who are already scrambling to find their next show because you can’t make a decent living off of one six-week job (and since there are fewer people per room, there are fewer jobs overall, even at the six-week amount), and the overworked, stressed as fuck showrunner who is going to have to write the entire thing themselves. Besides being bad for me making a living, I also just think it’s plain bad for television as an art form -- what I like about TV is how adaptable it is, how a whole group of people come together to tell a story better than what any of them could do on their own. Plus the showrunner can’t do their best work under all of that pressure, episode after episode, back to back. Minirooms just...fucking suck.

The WGA is proposing two things to fix this -- a rule that writers have to be employed for the entire show, and a rule tying the number of writers in the room to the number of episodes you have per season. I don’t think it’s unreasonable. It’s the way shows have run since the advent of television. It’s only in the last couple of years that this has become a new thing. It’s exploitative. It squeezes out everyone except showrunners and people who have the financial means to work only a few months a year. It makes television worse. And that is the issue in this strike that means everything to me, and that is why I voted yes on the strike authorization vote.

[ljubimaya]

SLUT ME OUT𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

SYNOPSIS: Does fucking your bratty girlfriend into oblivion help her fall asleep even when her sleep shedule is shit? Draken says yes! C/W: fem! afab! Reader, established relationship, aged up characters (20+ years old), brat! reader and brat tamer! Draken, pussy spanking, orgasm denial, p in v, unprotected sex (keep it wrapped), tummy bulging, cervix fucking, reader doesn't have a great sleep schedule/implied insomnia, mentions of social media (tiktok, Instagram, etc.), no prep, Draken has a big dick, rip your pussy, MDNI!!!! W/C: about 3k A/N: this is super self indulgent and has been on my mind for the longest time :,)) I won't lie, this particular fic took me a while to write for some reasons, but I guess not every fic can just flow out of my brain directly into my google docs. Also, not proofread and kinda chaotic (?)

DRAKEN had enough. He’d toss and turn, unable to get a wink of sleep. Next to him laid, or rather sat, you, staring at the bright display of your phone watching the newest videos of your favorite creators. You’d scroll, switching between Instagram Reels to Tiktoks to Youtube shorts, trying to get your nightly dose of entertainment before you’d cuddle up to your boyfriend and fall asleep. Insomnia was a bitch and Draken knew that you did your best not to disturb his sleep, but it became glaringly clear that your sleeping habits impacted his. So really, it didn’t do much for him when you lowered the volume as much as you could, or the way you’d try and stifle your laughter at a particularly funny Reel. He was wide away at an ungodly hour with you, but unlike you, he had to go to work in six hours. 

“Babe, you should go to sleep now” Draken grumbled as he turned around to face you “Phone-time is over” Draken reached and grabbed your phone from your grip before turning it off and placing it on his night stand. Once Draken turned back to look at you, the street lanterns barely illuminated the dark bedroom from outside. The blonde’s eyes quickly adapted to the dark, and all he saw was your pouty face glaring daggers at him.

“You can’t just take away my phone like that” you scoffed at your boyfriend “You’re acting like my dad. I’m a grown woman, and I’m more than capable of making my own decisions” Huffing, you tried to reach over the broad man to get your phone back, eager to return to the story time you’ve just watched. But you’ll soon come to find out that your boyfriend is not the right man to disobey. 

Draken caught your hand before you could even touch your phone “Oh yeah, a grown woman? You?” He looked at you with his sharp onyx eyes. You saw an all too familiar dangerous spark in his eyes, a spark that challenged you to defy him. Fuck around and find out.

“Yes, me. Believe it or not, but I’m my own person” you exclaimed, trying to sound as firm as you can. This was dangerous territory, but you’ve walked that path numerous times and oh boy, did you want to fuck around and find out. Not that you didn’t know what would follow - you were certain about what would follow should you keep being difficult. 

You pressed your thighs together, clit throbbing at the vicious glare your boyfriend threw at you “Who are you to even think you can boss me around?” That sealed the deal, you concluded from the way Draken leaned in closer to you. His gigantic form blocked out the window, the only source of light. You weren’t able to see much, but you didn’t have to. Draken was so close to you that you heard his even breathing, smelled the faint smell of the shampoo he used when he went to shower prior to joining you in bed hours ago, but most importantly, you felt him. You felt his rough hands on your thigh underneath the blanket, warm fingers pressing into your soft flesh. But most importantly, you felt his breath fanning  against your lips. 

“Yeah, you are your own person” His deep voice rumbles through the darkness of your shared bedroom, sending a shiver of excitement over your body “But I think you’re giving yourself way too much credit. You may look like a somewhat reliable, mature person, but you’re a brat through and through”

His grip on your thigh grew tighter. A mewl almost escaped your lips, but you didn’t dare make a noise. You didn’t want him to know that you got off to this, at least not now.

“And you know damn well I don’t like being disrespected. I’m not your father, but I am your boyfriend and I won’t tolerate this level of disrespect” Draken’s voice rumbled lowly, his grip on your thigh as firm as before “I’m gonna give you one chance to look me in the eye and apologize, brat” He spat out. The way your boyfriend put so much emphasis on “brat” made you feel tingles inside your stomach. 

You leaned closer to him, looked him in the face - even when you couldn’t see well in the dark, you still knew where to look - and told him with the sweetest voice “No. I’m not gonna apologize for anything. I said what I said” You were about to ask for your phone back, hoping that would make him snap but you didn’t get the chance to. A yelp left your mouth at the stinging sensation you felt on your thigh. You were no longer able to contain your excitement; a lewd moan left your lips as his palm made impact with your thigh. Draken was on top of you, yanking your legs apart harshly, before your mind could even register it.

“Should have known you were being difficult on purpose” Your boyfriend grumbled into your ear, his fingers tracing lines over your clothed cunt “Could have just told me you want me to fuck you to sleep. Would have saved me my nerves”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not being difficult” 

“Liar” His fingers slipped past your panties. A sinful moan left your lips as Draken teased your clit, rubbing agonizingly light strokes over your throbbing bud. His fingers barely touched you where you needed him the most. A part of you wanted to drop the bratty act and ask - no, beg -  him to fuck you, but you already knew that it was far too late to act like a good girl for him. So you committed to the bratty act. 

“I’m not a liar-”

Gasps and moans left your lips as Draken slapped your clothed pussy, making you unable to finish your protests. The stinging pain aroused you even more. You wanted more of him. 

"What was that? Didn’t catch that” Draken grinned wolfishly at your attempts to seem unfazed, but your squirming beneath his calloused hand and the embarrassingly big, wet spot on your panties told him everything he needed to know.

“I said I’m not a liar-” His hand landed on your pussy again. The hard slap sent a jolt through your body, slick seeped out of your pussy and soiled your favorite pair of panties. 

“Hmmm, apologize for lying to me, and I’ll take off your panties for you” Draken’s deep, rich voice rumbled “If I like your apology, that is. Better start begging if you want them off” 

“N-No, I won’t apologize” the words stumbled out of your lips, unable to come up with a snarky comment. Your refusal to beg would have to do for now. 

Another hard slap landed on your pussy once Draken heard your whiney stutter. You mewled at the impact, loving the pleasure you feel from the pain. Your clit throbbed against the fabric of your heavily soiled like a second heartbeat, waiting to be touched again; but as if reading your mind, Draken his assault on your poor pussy. Instead, he roughly yanked your panties off your body, so much so you feared he ripped the fabric. You yelped as he manhandled you, pressed you into the mattress and took your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand. 

You could feel his bulge pressed against your thigh as he yanked your legs apart, making sure to position himself between your trembling legs.  Anticipation washes over you; you felt so excited to feel his fingers stretch you out nicely, preparing you to take his thick cock. You’re already imagining his long fingers pumping in and out, middle and ring finger setting an unforgiving pace as his thumb would be teasing your clit until you’d cream around his digits. 

Instead of thrusting in and out of your weeping hole, his fingers hooked under the waistband of his boxers before pulling them down. Draken’s rock hard dick slapped against his toned abs. Your eyes have adjusted to the little light coming from outside, the cheap lantern lights illuminating the best parts of your boyfriend as you moved your head, desperate to catch a glimpse. 

Veiny, girthy, with a big, angry red tip, leaking precum. Your mouth watered at the sight. Oh, what you’d do to have him down your throat…

You snapped out of your thoughts when you saw Draken give his cock a few, firm pumps before his hand moved back to the base, guiding his leaking tip between your folds. The thought of your boyfriend fucking you without preping you beforehand felt both daunting and arousing to you. Remembering the previous times he took you, you vividly remembered the way his dick would stretch you out uncomfortably despite him eating you out and fingering you beforehand. You could only imagine the damage he’d do if he didn’t prep you. So, your bratty act faltered as you opened your mouth, and hoarsely asked “Baby, what are you doing?”

Lust filled, onyx eyes met yours as Draken heard your small protests, a scowl adorned his handsome face “Teaching you a lesson” He groaned as he teased your folds with his tip “Since you wanted to be a brat about it, I’m gonna put you back in your place like one” Without warning, Draken pushed his bulbous tip inside. 

Tears shot up in your eyes as you bit back a scream, feeling as if you were being impaled by him. You struggled beneath him, struggled to take him fully while he mercilessly forced himself inside you, and struggled to contain your moans bubbling out of your sealed lips. Despite the stretching, burning pain you felt the deeper Draken pushed himself between your walls, you couldn’t deny that you liked it. Your clit throbbed as you got stuffed full of cock, begging to be touched, pinched, slapped.

Sweat collected on Draken’s forehead. He felt somewhat conflicted about not loosening you up properly, feeling that he might be doing too much this time, but the grip your gummy walls had on him made it impossible for him to pull out. He didn’t know if it was either the lack of prep or you loving it that made you so damn tight - almost too tight- for him. Draken was sure of one thing though: he physically couldn’t pull out. He lacked the will power for it.

Lost in his own pleasure, your boyfriend glanced at your face. The nagging voice in his head demanded to know if you were doing okay. Below him, you were a shaking mess. A thin sheen of sweat covered your skin, lips plump and bruised from you biting them, eyes rolled back in sheer bliss and tummy bulging. If heaven was real, it would face in comparison to your blissed out expression, a sweet combination of pained and aroused. 

“Oh, why so silent, brat?” Draken huffed “Where did your smart mouth go?” He groaned as he harshly thrusted the last remaining inches inside your weeping cunt, attentively watching your face. You weren’t able to hold the nasty, loud moan anymore. You tried to hold onto the pillows for leverage, but Draken’s tight grip on your wrists didn’t falter. Panting, you made eye contact with Draken. His scowl has warped into a cruel grin; he looked down on you like a wolf would look at a wounded sheep, ready to devour it. 

“You’re so filthy” Draken mused, chuckling darkly when you turned your face away in shame. His free hand took hold of the bed frame, an action that caught your attention. You squeezed your eyes shut, anticipating a hard thrust out before he’d plunge right back inside you. But he didn’t. Instead, the grip on your wrists grew tighter, making you squeal in pain and look at him, glaring daggers at your boyfriend. 

“Speak when you’re spoken to, brat” Draken growled “This is your last chance. Beg me for forgiveness, and I might be nice” 

And despite his threats, he still saw a flicker of defiance in your eyes. He knew that you’d always be bratty to him, and you knew he knew. 

“F-Fuck you” you meekly replied back, your voice faltering and shaky. You knew you were screwed when you saw the dark glint in Draken’s onyx eyes. 

Wordlessly, Draken pulled out and rammed back inside. The first thrust knocked the air out of your lungs, the ones that followed after knocked your soul out of your body. Draken didn’t hold himself back, the might of his thrusts shook the bed you two shared. The old mattress that you two have been meaning to replace for ages let out loud, squeaky noises with every movement. The thudding, the squeaking, your loud sobs and Draken’s low groans were a guarantee for getting noise complaints in the morning, but neither of you cared; your brain fuzzy from the painful yet delicious stretch and Draken too focused on the grip your pussy had on his dick. 

Draken’s balls smacked against your ass with each merciless thrust, heavy and full with his cum. His tip continuously kissed your cervix, which ended up heightening the pain and pleasure you felt. Feeling overstimulated, you knew you wouldn’t last any longer and come soon. While drunk on your pussy, Draken was still able to think somewhat clearly. He felt the way your walls grew tighter around him and heard the frantic moans that escaped your lips. 

So he stopped right before you could come. 

You whined desperately once Draken stopped moving, trying to grind your hips against him, to create a friction that could satisfy the overbearing heat you felt in your tummy. Much to your dismay, you weren’t able to move a lot with your boyfriend pressing down on you. 

“Stop moving or I will pull out” Draken warned you sternly. He didn’t like having to postpone his own orgasm for the sake of teaching you a lesson, so he hopes he has cracked you down enough to drop your stubborn, bratty attitude. 

A wince left your lips as you heard Draken, your hips stopping their movements. You looked up at him, teary eyed and frowning at his sudden stop.

“You didn’t actually think I’d let you cum after all the badmouthing you did” He scoffed, trying to suppress a grin. Oh, how he loved seeing you so needy. He absolutely loved seeing the real you, the desperate you. 

You’d be embarrassed by the way your resolve broke so quickly, but you couldn’t think straight anymore. All thoughts in your head revolved around cumming on his cock. 

“Please” you whimpered out “Please, I wanna cum”

“Nu-huh. You’ll have to do better” Draken rolled his eyes at you “And you better be quick. I don’t have the whole night”

And just like that, the dam broke. Beginnings and pleadings and empty promises bubbled out of your mouth, each word sounding more desperate than the previous. Music to his ears. 

“I will never disrespect you like that again” You promised, sobbing as you ran out of anything to make him reconsider “I will always listen to you, I will always be obedient” 

Of course, Draken knew that you were throwing everything and saw what stuck; he knew you would go back to your antics as soon as you wake up in the morning. To say he was unimpressed was an understatement. 

“I’ll be good. I-I will fix my sleep schedule” you stuttered out, growing antsy at the lack of a reaction. You’ve run out of what to say to him to appease him “You wanted me to fix it, right?” 

Draken could only scoff at you. What a pathetic thing to say “We both know that’s a lie. You know I hate lies” Draken could see the disappointment in your eyes “And to top it all off, all of those things you’ve said are lies as well”

“But that’s fine. I’m gonna make an honest person out of you” With that, Draken slammed his hips against yours, picking up right where he left off. Screams and cries left your lips as your boyfriend drilled inside you. 

“If fucking your brains out every night is what will make you be good, I will do it” Draken grunted between thrusts. Draken’s pace was unforgiving, his thrusts angled to hit all the right spots. The sudden switch up on his demeanor left you confused, but who were you to question your boyfriend while he’s balls deep inside you?

Draken’s hips repeatedly crash against yours, chasing after his orgasm. He was usually so patient and kind with you, making sure you’d cum before him. This time, Draken prioritized his own high. So he fucked you like a dog in heat until he emptied his balls inside you with a groan. He shut his eyes tightly as he fucked his cum into you, trying to extend his orgasm as much as he could. 

His cum shot inside your womb, filling you up nicely; so much so that the tight knot in your tummy broke. You mewled out his name as you came hard, your legs trembling and your back arched at the aftershocks from your intense orgasm. Your eyes felt heavy, and before you knew it, you passed out from sheer exhaustion. Sleeping soundly, you didn’t notice Draken pulling his dick out. He could only imagine the divine view of his cum leaking out of your pulsing pussy if it was brighter inside the bedroom. 

Despite feeling tired himself, Draken pushed himself off your shared bed and went to the bedroom quietly, making sure you wouldn't wake up. After all, he gave it his all to put you to sleep. He returned -womewhat clean himself- with a wet towel and carefully cleaned you up. Your boyfriend silently watched you sleep, letting the previous events replay in his mind before he laid down and covered the both of you with a blanket. As Draken fell asleep, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph swell up in his chest. He finally knew what would get you to fall asleep, and he was very much intending at fucking you to sleep every night.

[webslingingslasher]

Could you write something kinda similar to what you wrote before? Like with insecure reader but it's like the opposite, maybe her not being intimate with Peter yet because guys usually dump her after they hook up with her?

iiiiiii, dunno about this one :(

It’s not like you're a virgin. 

If you were, it would make sense to be a little scared. Or maybe it was anxiety. 

However, Peter Parker was a good guy. He held your hand like it was his job, called when he said he would, he’s close to all your friends, even adapting some to his own group. He asked to kiss you the first time he did, not expecting it but hoping. He always paid for your dates, even when you try to strong arm him into not doing it. 

Peter was a good guy. A really, really good guy. 

So why do you hurt him time and time again when he tries to take it to another step?

You could see the confusion filtering through, he used to be good at hiding it but more and more the poker face is fading and you can read the real emotion. 

If you have sex with him, you could lose him. 

If you don’t have sex with him, you could lose him.  

You were set to lose no matter what. 

It was getting harder to say no, this time you had to force yourself to pull away and gasp for air. 

“Um- movie?” 

Peter closes his eyes against the pillow, he’s fighting the tightness in his jeans poorly. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

Making out with Peter is really, really fun. Everything about Peter was fun, that’s why you don’t want to lose him. 

You don’t want to look back, he’s laying down and you’re sitting up trying to find a movie to hide the truth behind. 

Peter’s had enough on his end. 

“Uh, baby?” 

“Yes?” Don’t look back. 

He knows you’re not a virgin. 

“Can we talk?” 

“About?” You search for a movie harder. Don’t look back. 

Peter pauses, he’s not sure how to word it. 

“Do you… Are you… Is…” Frustrated, he huffs, “what would the next step in our relationship be?” He needs to know, do you both have different versions of the next step? He thought sex would be a no brainer, but it seems like you don’t want to do it with him. 

Sex. 

Sex would be the next step, you know that and so does he. But if you say it will he expect it? 

Don’t look back.

A nonchalant shrug, “sex, I guess.” 

He’s tired of looking at the back of your head.

“Can you look at me, please?” 

No. 

“Yeah,” you turn. 

Peter looks soft, almost sad. He’s always thought you were good at reading each other, he doesn’t know what you’re thinking. 

“Are we on different pages?” 

Your head tilts, “what do you mean?” 

His turn to sit up, “I’m ready to have sex and I thought you were too. But it feels like you always worm your way out of it, and that’s fine cause if you’re not ready then I’m not either.” 

Either, either, either. 

He’s in this with you. 

“Every time I’ve had sex they always leave after. I don’t want you to leave.” 

Peter rolls his eyes, “babe, I’ve got like, thirty shirts in your closet. I’m not going anywhere, and if never having sex is my only way to prove it, I’ll do it.” 

You raise your eyebrows, “really, you could go without sex forever?” 

He shrugs, “eh, I mean, I really like you, and sex is fun but you can’t miss what you don’t have. I don’t know what it would be like to have sex with you, but I know how much it feels to miss you.” 

Is this how love is supposed to feel? 

It’s getting really hard saying no, and if he says it, he means it. You’ve learned that by now. 

You check your phone, if he’s still here in the morning then he’s your forever. 

“Well, I also don’t know what sex feels like with you.” 

You move in closer, “but, I’d like to find out.” 

Peter’s eyes lit up, it’s not about getting to bone you, it’s about the trust you have for him. Even you can read his look that well. He leans in to kiss you, his words whispered against your lips. 

“I’ll make breakfast.” 

[literaila]

Gojo having a baby girl is literally driving me insane like how is that man a father HES THE BABY 😭

this is so true.

i know that man is pouting for the baby’s first year at least because, well, simply put—she’s taking all of his attention.

she’s the one who gets to sleep on you every day and night, she’s the one you’re making silly noises at, and she’s the one who you’re cooing over when satoru is standing there being as cute as he can possibly be!

is it so wrong to be jealous of his own daughter?

and yeah yeah, whatever. he knows that she’s a baby and she needs more codling than a (so called) adult man does, but still. he made her, shouldn’t she be on his side?

so he sits in the rocking chair while you put her in her crib, being careful not to wrap her too tight in the blankets. he’s watching you smile at her and basically fawn over a lump of flesh (yes, she is adorable, but that’s not the point).

seriously, she can’t even speak to you. she can’t tell you how beautifully you’re adapting to your newborn lifestyle, or how pretty you look with spit up on your shirt.

guess who can though? satoru.

not that you care, apparently.

so if he’s crossing his arms and frowning while he watches you be perfect for someone else, sue him.

“are you pouting again?”

“i’m not pouting.”

you finally look over to satoru, tilting your head. “you’ve got wrinkles from frowning so much.”

“what? no i don’t.”

you smile at him and walk over, immediately easing into the hands that wrap around your waist. even this close, satoru is still look at you begrudgingly. resentfully.

“are you seriously jealous of your own daughter?”

“i didn’t realize that you’d completely forget about me once she was born.”

“i haven’t—“

“am i just a pretty face to you? something nice to look at when you come home?”

you scoff. “okay, first of all, if anyone has a pretty face around here, it’s her—“

“this is what i’m talking about—“

“and second of all, yes. we’ve talked about this. you’re just my eye candy.”

he frowns. “your eye candy deserves more attention.”

“my eye candy is being awfully needy.”

“your eye candy misses you.”

you smile again, leaning against him. satoru tightens his hands around you, nuzzling his face into your stomach. you run a hand through his hair. “i miss you too”

“no you don’t,” he mumbles into your shirt.”

“i do!” you laugh, pulling on his hair so he’ll look at you. “but as long as you’re right here with me, i’m okay.”

“you’re just okay?” he asks, despairingly.

“having you here is enough for me, satoru.”

he groans, falling back into your skin.

you coo at him softly, giving him a makeshift hug.

“you’ve got a new baby,” he whispers, “i’m outdated.”

you snort. “you’ve always been outdated.”

satoru lifts his head up, pouting once again. “that’s mean.”

“sorry, baby,” you whisper, kissing his forehead. “i’ll check my schedule, see if i can pencil you in somewhere.”

“really?”

“i think im free in about… mmm, three to six months.”

he groans again.

“hey,” you whisper, trailing a finger down his perfect face.

“what?”

“i love you.”

he meets your eyes, and his lips twitch, knowing and just as fond. “are you sure?”

“are you jealous?” you retort.

he sighs. “i guess i can’t really blame you. she is cute.”

you turn in his arms, looking towards the crib once again. “isn’t she?”

and maybe satoru is a little bit jealous. but he’ll get over it. because, honestly, the tiny bundle in that crib is going to grow up—but he’ll always be your baby.

[nashusglasses]

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.**.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.**.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.**.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.**.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

(background to this nsfw drabble)

thinking of marriage of convenience AU with jing yuan and general’s daughter!reader from xianzhou yuque. a rogue sect of the disciples of sanctus medicus try to execute a plot to destroy a jade abacus warehouse on the yuque—important machinery is destroyed, two critical injuries reported, one death—and intra-alliance tensions among the populace start to boil over. arrests are made. citizens are scared. general yaoguang knows the cloud knights are smart and resource-savvy enough not to respond to any taunts from angry yuque residents of the luofu, but he’s champing at the bit trying to quell public dissatisfaction on either ship. it’s fu xuan who suggests it in one meeting with jing yuan and yaoguang.

“great relations,” she says, “start with an even greater union.”

you’ve been married for five months. you’re lucky if you see jing yuan more than twice a week, and today he’s holed up in his home office signing off on contracts for the alchemy commission to order new supplies. he’d said good morning when you entered the kitchen for breakfast, and you could only offer a nod before he bade you farewell for the day. a typical conversation. you’re not unhappy, but you are awfully bored. 

your handmaiden, lihua, promised a new harvest from the garden today. she’s back by the time you’re done with your speech lessons (you still struggle to adapt to the local dialect, but jing yuan has always been kind not to fuss about your vowel inflections), and you help her wash and spread the fruits on bamboo-woven trays in the cool heat of the afternoon. 

“does jing yuan have anything to drink on days like this?” you ask lihua.

she hums thoughtfully. “i’m sure he’d appreciate his wife coming to greet him with something sweet. can i show you how to make simple syrup?”

it’s simple enough. you make a pitcher of iced lemonade in no time, and lihua prepares a tray for you to bring a glass to jing yuan’s office. you shake with every step you take. internally, you scold yourself for feeling so anxious — this is your husband. jing yuan, who asked you personally for your allergies and food preferences to curate a menu for your daily consumption for the kitchen staff to follow. jing yuan, who had a room specially built for you in the east wing after you’d told your father how much you’d miss seeing the sunrise from your window. jing yuan, who’d once accidentally walked in on you in the hot springs on his rare day off, and grew as red as an angry tuskpir, leaving with a hasty apology. (you didn’t see him for three weeks after that.)

you steel your resolve, and knock on the door. when he doesn’t answer, you gently creak the door open, jing yuan coming into view as he’s hunched over sheets of paper, hair tied haphazardly with his red ribbon. he holds his pen so rigidly. you wonder if he’s taken a break at all today. 

you tiptoe in, lest you break his focus. “sorry,” you whisper. “i brought this for you.”

jing yuan spares you a single glance, watching you position the glass at the edge of his desk. he does not say a word. 

you think… he might be a little peeved. yes. why would you even think of interrupting him? oh god. his schedule must be packed tight, his rhythm stunted with your unannounced arrival. you immediately open your mouth for an apology, feeling the pinpricks of tears at the thought of disappointing him.

he’s already looking away. his writing is even faster than before. you leave with a bow and nothing else to say.

(jing yuan drinks your lemonade in three gulps after you’ve closed the door behind you. he reminds himself to have a bundle of flowers delivered to your bedroom door by sunrise the next morning. for the rest of his working day, your face, so beautifully concerned, plagues his head.

he wants to know what else makes you cry.)

[emmg]

I don't think Bioware fully comprehends the absolute chaos it’s about to release by handing us, the unapologetic mage-bangers, Emmrich "well done, my dear" Volkarin after the emotional war crime that was the Solas romance.

It’s like they’re handing us an emotionally healthy daddy figure wrapped in a big ol’ “yes, praise me harder” bow and just expecting us to behave.

AO3? Oh, it’s about to be a bloodbath. A flood of unholy praise kink is going to rain down like mana from horny heaven. The poor voice actor? He’s got no idea what’s coming. Fans, barely coherent, will be sobbing in his DMs, pleading for him to record lines like, "darling, sweet thing, apple of my throbbing loins,” because suddenly that’s the only thing keeping them going.

And you just know the fics are gonna go there. We’re talking steamy, full-blown, knee-weakening sex scenes so detailed you’ll practically hear the slapping sounds through your screen. Every silver hair, every wrinkled brow is going to get worshipped like it’s the goddamn Holy Grail. Emmrich? He’s not just a mentor now, no—he’s the silver-fox sex wizard of everyone’s dirtiest, most depraved dreams.

Bioware, you’ve dragged us through the emotional meat grinder with Solas, and now you’re tossing us this emotionally sane and well-adapted snack with decades of good coping mechanisms? Oh, baby, the sex scenes are gonna be biblical. I’m talking hands-on-bookshelves, robes ripped off, candles flickering like we’re summoning a demon but, surprise, it’s just Emmrich praising your efforts in bed like you’re acing your dissertation. It's gonna be 'well done, my dear' while you’re doing ungodly things to that silver fox, and he’s stroking your hair like you just unlocked a new achievement.

Me? Oh, honey, I’ll be on the front lines like a horny general leading the charge into the unholy lands. November 1st? I’m not just showing up, I’m rolling in with a pre-written, fully locked-and-loaded stash of smut so scandalous, my Orthodox ancestors will not only crucify me—they’ll disown me in the afterlife. I’m gonna make them turn in their graves so hard, we’ll solve the energy crisis.

And let’s not get it twisted—I’m going to worship this thin, emotionally available mage like he’s the last goddamn spellcaster left in Thedas. I’m talking tongue tracing every single one of his ribs like I’m mapping out the delicate lines of a cathedral—except it’s not sacred, it’s blasphemous as fuck. Forget holy water; it’s gonna be sweat, and I’ll be so deep into my thirst, my own character, Rook, will be doing things that’d make even the most depraved demon of desire blush. Every sliver of his body, every wrinkle, every bone—especially the bones—is getting the Rook Treatment™.

Bioware? You better brace yourself because I’m about to publish smut so audacious, so flagrantly wanton, even the Deep Roads will seem vanilla.

We’ve suffered. And now poor Emmrich’s going to be buried alive under the weight of all that… pent-up thirst. Welcome to the show, sweet necromancer.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

The Assembly sees a cast of thirty-five interviewers who are autistic, neurodivergent or learning disabled, question an A-list celebrity for one extraordinary TV interview.

In this half-hour special, it's multi-award-winning actor and director, Michael Sheen, who is to face the grilling of a lifetime from the unique collective. No subject is out of bounds, no question is off the table.

On subjects as diverse as ex-girlfriends and on-screen kisses, to the OBE he gave back or his favourite motorway, how will the Good Omens star fare as The Assembly bring their unique approach to the celebrity interview?

The Assembly cast is a diverse cast ranging in age from eighteen to seventy-seven, amongst the group are musicians, artists, writers and students. Each will take their own approach in their attempt to get to the truth of Michael Sheen like nobody before has- whether that’s finding out his favourite sandwich filling or how he felt when his daughter was born.

The format is an adaptation of French show Les Rencontres Du Papotin, which saw the likes of Emmanuel Macron and Camille Cotin (Call My Agent) face the neurodivergent journalists of the Papotin. Gone was the flattery of the usual celeb fare – in its place, a mix of mischievous prodding, leftfield quizzing and profound exchanges. The superstars left completely off guard: actors asked about a driving ban or the death of a parent, the President asked if it’s really the behaviour of a role model to marry one’s teacher.

The show comes from Michelle Singer and Stu Richards' Rockerdale Studios, creators of mischievous content which seeks to put disabled agency at its heart. Stu is also known for co-creating and writing the BBC Three comedy, Jerk, and Rockerdale are most known for Channel 4’s Mission: Accessible.

Rockerdale Studios has worked closely with the BBC’s Creative Diversity Team, to ensure every element of the series works for and with autistic and neurodivergent voices.

The Assembly is a half-hour special to celebrate Autism Acceptance Week. Expect profound revelation, glorious chaos, and a lot of laughs.

The Assembly airs Friday 5 April, 10:40pm on BBC One and iPlayer

Interview with Michael Sheen

What made you say yes to being a part of The Assembly?

I said yes to being a part of The Assembly because it was just such an extraordinary and interesting idea. Then reading about the original French series, it just sounded so extraordinary, different and potentially a very revealing way to approach the tried and tested interview process, but obviously it is a lot more than just being an interview. The interview part of it is just one aspect of the project and I think there is still a lot of confusion, ignorance and fear around people with any kind of difference. I think being able to be involved in a project like this could maybe break down some of those barriers.

How is this different from any other TV show you’ve been a part of?

It’s very much unfiltered and that’s really exciting and quite nerve wracking for that reason! So much on TV is sort of smoothed out and filtered and made safe and this, certainly in the making of it, felt very not that! All the better and more refreshing for it too. I know a lot of work is put into the research and preparation for a show like this, but in terms of the actual questions being asked and the experience that you have in all being together when you’re filming, it feels very unpredictable in a really good way and really lead by the people taking part, which is terrific.

How did you feel going into filming?

Well I didn’t really have anything to go on, so I was excited. Sometimes when I’m going to be interviewed, I know what the interview is going to be about, I have a vague idea of the questions that will come up, I know the sort of things that I need to get across about what I’m there to talk about. But with this, I really had no idea what I was going to be asked, so I had to be prepared for everything and anything, there was a kind of freedom in that I suppose. Because of the unfiltered nature of what was going to happen and not being able to anticipate what might be asked, it was a little nerve wracking yes, but I was mainly just very excited!

Did your experience differ from what you were expecting and if so how?

Well I didn’t know what to expect really, so it’s not that it wasn’t what I was expecting because you can’t expect anything! There's no way you can expect anything because you just don’t know what’s going to happen, and because it is so unfiltered and unpredictable in terms of what might happen, where things might go, how people might be feeling on the day. For all the difficult questions that got asked at times, it just felt very loving and joyful and that everyone was very happy and excited to be there even though people were nervous or had anxiety at different times. There was a genuine feeling of community and I felt very welcomed into that community and ready to play so to speak, and you have to be ready to play. I felt very safe and looked after and it was just really, very funny as well – there was lots of laughter and wonderful things that people asked, responded to and performed, I mean I wasn’t expecting all of that, that was just wonderful! So many moments that I’ll never forget.

How does this compare to any other interview you’ve experienced?

It’s so unfiltered! The closest thing I can say is The One Show, where you go on to talk about one thing and then they ask you about everything else that’s going on on the show, so you get a question about your favourite bus route, then they ask you about otters! There’s an extraordinary pinball effect of questions and that’s the closest I could describe, but The Assembly is that x100. It really is extraordinary and that’s very unlike any other interview I’ve done really, usually everything is meant to follow on logically and have a kind of smoothness and polish to it, and this is just really raw and unfiltered and uncensored and I love that, I thought that was wonderful.

What can viewers expect from the show?

I imagine it will be very funny and I think quite moving. I was quite moved at times by seeing how much people had to struggle to overcome certain things they were dealing with in order to ask questions at times. That was uplifting. I think it will be different, it will be thought provoking I hope, and challenging in certain ways; challenging certain kinds of myths and stereotypes I think and ultimately just really entertaining and fun and joyful. I can’t really remember what I said, so I don’t know what people will learn about me... but it’s not about me, it’s about that fantastic group of people, but I certainly got a huge amount out of it too and I hope an audience will as well.

[restinslices]

ALRIGHT ENOUGH SWEETNESS. LIN KUEI BOYS FIRST TIME FUCKING THEIR PARTNER 🎤 (please)

Omg y’all, my brain let me write again😃

I don’t feel like looking for gifs and my storage space is in hell so I ain’t got photos. Sorry twin

Bi-Han

I know I start his parts off with “the haters will tell you” a lot 

IDC. Imma do it again 

The haters will tell you he won't care and he'll do his own speed and yadyadya. No. 

He's an asshole but be fr y'all 

I'm gonna write this as you're both experienced but it's your first time together. If that's not what you meant then lmk but until then-

You're both experienced but he's still careful 

He's the type to pick up speed fast but he's not immediately gonna be aggressive 

You're experienced but not with each other so he's gonna actively try to be slower and softer 

Very observant towards your needs and adapts quickly 

I think he’s observant in general so I think he’d easily notice how you react to certain things 

More of an action guy 

What I mean is he won’t verbally say a lot. Like you know how some people will ask “does this feel good?”? (That looks ugly as fuck-) He won’t 

He won’t because he’s paying attention to how you react and what gets the best reaction. He doesn’t need to say much 

He’s not completely silent but I don’t think he says much in general, so the first time would especially be quiet because he’s focusing 

Do I think he’s rough during sex? Yes. For the first time though? Probably not. He still feeling shit out

When it comes to making him feel good, he makes sure to let you know. He’d never be the type to lie about nutting. That’s just not him. He’s gonna make sure you do it right 

Very handsy 

He’s vocal when it comes to grunting and I think he’d go out of his way to make noise in your ear if it was something you enjoyed 

Pays attention to both your needs 

I could see him wanting to go a couple rounds before stopping 

Leaves tons of marks as a reminder of what happened 

Now that you’ve started now, don’t be surprised when he wants to do it consistently 

Kuai Liang

Mostly pays attention to what you need 

I think he’s way more verbal than Bi-Han so he’d actually verbally ask what feels good and what doesn’t 

He goes slow

Lots of emphasis on foreplay and trying to set the mood 

His lips are everywhere 

Like legit, every part of you has felt his lips or tongue 

I get it, you may think he’s very fast and intense because fire but no

Fire can also symbolize passion and Kuai Liang is a very passionate lover 

Considering it’s the first time, there’s no need to rush

The type to always be pleasing you. Even if you’re talking or making small comments, his fingers are still gonna be working on you 

When it comes to fucking he’s not doing it fast but how hard he’s going makes up for it 

Will go faster if you ask

Is also leaving marks 

Does frequent check ins to make sure everything is ok

He’s a big dude (in the sense he’s swole as fuck) so he’d probably prefer for you to be on top so he won’t crush you 

If I said he pulls on hair will I be booed or cheered?

If you’re bald then ignore that

Offers to give head. Doesn’t matter if you’re laying down or sitting on his face. He’s leaving here with smth-

The ratio when it comes to orgasming is off as fuck because he’s the type to pull out and start eating you out 

Extra points if it’s after you came 

He’s pulling out all the stops. You’re not going anywhere after this

Doesn’t particularly care how many rounds you go for

Main focus is on how many times you cum. There’s some people that try to be sweet and “I didn’t cum but if you’re tired then-“ don’t piss him off 

You’re either stopping because you’re tired or you’re shaking (or you wanting to stop but that’s not a saucy ending)

Tomas Vrbada

He’s always gonna be a sub to me, idc

He would try so hard to be big man on campus and all strong and shit, but bitch one good tug at the hair and he’s folding 

Lets you take the reigns for the first time 

Don’t think just because he likes being tossed around a lil, he ain’t gonna say how he feels. No 

You can be submissive and still assertive. That’s Tomas 

Similar to Kuai Liang in the sense that he is really focused on what you want and what feels good to you 

Already moans a lot and loud as fuck but he’s especially loud once he’s finally inside you 

He wants to go slow but life happens. The wind just kinda blows this way and next thing you know he’s fucking you like he’s saying goodbye. It’s the winds fault fr 

Is also verbal with what he wants and wants you to be too 

You’d think y’all have fucked several times with how comfortable he is when it comes to saying what he’s into. What do you mean “choke me”?

What do you mean you wanna fuck the cum outta someone or vice versa? Let’s take a breather, calm down, gather our thoughts-

Once he’s horny his brain shuts off and the whore comes out. You’d expect it’d be Bi-Han that would become this bold, but no. He’s bold all the time. Tomas gives mfs whiplash. 

Like bro we were just eating dinner 20 minutes ago

Like I said, he’s really focused on what you want since it’s your first time. You gotta leave an impression 

Is his brain cells shutting off? Yes. Will them bitches turn back on if he notices you don’t like something or you say something feels weird? Yes 

He’s attentive 

Probably came before you because he’s sensitive but he’s not the type to roll over and be like “welp, guess it’s a wrap”

He wants your brain to be as fuzzy as his and he’s determined to make that shit happen 

Idk why I changed my profile to this Fear Street aesthetic when I never write for them but here we are. I wanted to change it and this is where I landed.

[junkissed]

enha surprise adopting a kitten

member — enhypen hyung line (heeseung, jay, jake, sunghoon) x gn reader genre — fluff, sfw word count — 1.6k warnings — kissing, pet names (baby, babe, beautiful, etc.) that's about it notes — requested by @onlymingyus — thank you sm for the request my lovely mars !! this is my first time posting for a group besides svt so i hope yall enjoy reading :) if you did please feel free to reblog or send an ask, it is super encouraging and helps me keep writing <3 enjoy!

heeseung . . . might be confused why it had to be a surprise, because he would’ve said yes anyway, but he would ultimately accept it pretty easily. it's not the weirdest thing you've ever brought home, and he's been thinking about getting a pet anyway, so this is honestly a win all around. he’s flexible and he’ll adapt to pretty much anything you throw at him, so fitting a cat into your daily lives won’t be difficult on his part.

"where did you find that?" he asks nonchalantly when you walk in the door, strolling out of the living room to greet you.

"no idea, he just followed me home. maybe we're being stalked." you giggle as you lean in to give him a kiss, the same way you do every single day when you get home, and he grins at how ordinary this is for you. only you could show up with a kitten unannounced and act like it's the most normal thing in the world. but he loves your normal.

you hand the tiny kitten off to him as you shut the door behind you and slip off your shoes, and you miss the tender look in his eyes while you're digging through your purse in search of something. "obviously i adopted him," you admit, looking up at him as you finally find what you were looking for.

"well, i can never tell with you, baby. the other explanation worked too," heeseung laughs, carefully stroking his index finger over the kitten’s head. you can already tell it’s going to be impossible to get the two of them apart, already forming an instant, inseparable bond.

you hold out the small stack of papers for him to glance at. "the shelter was having an adoption event, and i saw it on my way home from work. and besides, i felt like we needed a little guy running around here. you'll get lonely without me all day."

your reasoning makes the corners of his mouth turn up in a smirk, because it's such a you thing to do. your spontaneity is one of the things he loves most about you, the fact that you could adopt a kitten on a whim because you think he needs a reminder of you. what you don't realize is that everything already does remind him of you, but… he supposes a furry little friend couldn't hurt, too. "you know me so well, beautiful. can't live without you."

you beam at him, and he can't help but think that he'd let you surprise him with a zoo full of kittens if it means he gets to see you smile like that all the time. "so… you like him?"

"of course i do." he leans in to give you a kiss, and you laugh when the tiniest, softest mew springs up from between you.

"good," you say, kissing him back. "because i think he already likes you."

jay . . . obviously can't have a real cat, but i think he’d still enjoy your surprise. he always indulges in your surprise endeavors, and although he has his reservations you always manage to make him smile in ways he doesn’t expect.

"i got you a surprise," you grin as you walk into the kitchen, clutching something behind your back.

"what is it this time?" he turns and looks up from the pan on the stove where he’s started making dinner, cocking an eyebrow at you. try as he might, he never knows what you’re going to bring home with you next, but he’s gotten used to it.

"a kitten."

his eyes narrow in lighthearted suspicion, and he points his spatula at you warily. you’ve had this conversation before, and as much as he would love to own a house full of cats, he just can’t. even the hypoallergenic breeds don’t make much of a difference, so for now he’s content with cat videos on the internet and the occasional trip to volunteer at the animal shelter, as long as he stocks up on allergy medicine beforehand. "babe, you know—"

but before he can finish his sentence you pull your arms around to reveal what you've been hiding: a stuffed toy cat with a bow around its neck.

"cute," he concedes, his expression softening. he should’ve guessed it would be something like this. you know him too well and love him too much to ever purposely do something he wouldn’t be able to enjoy.

"you really thought i brought you a real cat?" you grin playfully at his reaction, because it was exactly the response you’d been hoping for. your boyfriend is too much fun to tease, and you can never resist the opportunity to string him along for the sake of a little fun.

jay pointedly ignores your question and turns back to his cooking, but he doesn’t try to hide the small smile on his face. "dinner’s on in 10. will our… new friend, be joining us?"

you wrap your arms around him from behind and kiss him on the cheek. "of course. i’ll be sure to set out an extra plate."

jake . . . is a dog person through and through, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy having a cat, too. he would be excited at the idea of it at first, but he’d get more nervous as time goes on. it’s a lot of responsibility owning a pet, and although he’s an experienced dog dad he doesn’t know much about taking care of a cat.

"are you sure? what if she, like, bites?"

you shrug with a smile, still cupping the kitten in the palms of your hands and holding her out for him to look at. "i don’t know, jake, it’s just a kitten. she’s not going to murder you in your sleep. she’s probably just as scared of you as you are of her."

he lets out a chuckle at that, because he knows you’re right. he knows it’s an irrational thing to be afraid of, and it’s really not even a fear in the first place, but he’s can’t help that he’s just awkward around cats. he’s more used to dogs; what do you even do with a cat?

but it isn’t long before he’s playing with the kitten just as enthusiastically as he plays with layla, and there’s been more than a couple times when you’ve come home and found the three of them playing fetch together. at first he’d been worried about whether a kitten would be able to fit into your routine, but although he had his doubts he quickly comes to love your new friend. he's a fast learner when it comes to taking care of things, and before long he'd be a natural at it.

sunghoon . . . might be hesitant, but not for long. his reaction would be like when dads say they don't want a pet but then a week later you find him explaining the rules of football to them. he’s more easily won over than he thinks: he swears up and down that he only likes dogs, but then you see him being so attentive to your new kitten and you can’t help but laugh because his soft spot is so obvious even though he always tries to deny it. that kitten is going to be his new best friend, whether he likes it or not (spoiler: he likes it.)

"did you get more cat treats when you went to the store the other day?" he asks casually, not looking up from his phone where he’s sitting on the couch. the newest member of your family sits curled up on his lap, sleeping soundly as he runs his fingers gently over the soft fur of her back.

you hum curiously in reply. "no? there was half a bag left last time i checked. are they gone already?"

sunghoon doesn't reply, which is an admission in itself, and you can't help but roll your eyes and smile.

"you know you're only supposed to give cats a couple of those a day, at most?"

"well, it's her fault, not mine." he makes a huffing noise in disagreement, and it's so endearing you can't actually be mad at him, as much as you'd like to scold him. "she was giving me that look. she deserved those treats. i couldn't deny her."

you find it endlessly adorable how in love he is with this kitten, despite his insistence otherwise. on the outside he seems quiet, but he's really just thinking of the things he still has to do. have the toys he ordered online shipped yet? did he remember to change the litter box? has he spent enough time cuddling today— with both you and the kitten? these are all vital questions that he has to make sure are addressed, and the current order of business on his list is the lack of cat treats. luckily for him, he's not the only one in the house who has a soft spot: you have one for him, too.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!! this is also my first time (officially) writing for enhypen so pls let me know how you liked it, feedback is super appreciated <3

if you want to be notified when i post a new fic, you can join my taglist here!

taglist — located in the replies (i will be tagging those who selected "yes, tag me for everything" on my taglist form, but if you'd like me to remove you please lmk! i probably will not be posting many non-svt fics like this so don't worry lol)

[misc-obeyme]

Mer!MC Headcanons - Side Characters

Well, one person asked as we know that's all it takes! So here are the side characters. Yes, that includes our three undateables! (But not Luke... I coulda done a platonic one for him I suppose but well... I didn't lol.)

Some of these got a touch lengthy but I still like how they turned out. I hope you all enjoy them!

read the older brothers here and the younger brothers here

GN!mer!MC x Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Solomon, Mephistopheles, Raphael, and Thirteen

Warnings: just a little bit of drowning danger/imagery in Mephisto's

Diavolo

Diavolo is lingering in the castle gardens after a particularly entertaining tea time with Lucifer and Barbatos. He’s alone - the others have gone inside. He’s walking around the garden when he notices an unusual ripple in the water of the pond there. He stops to watch it and catches a glimpse of your tail, just barely breaking the water’s surface. He is instantly curious and crouches close to the edge. You peer up at him from beneath the still waters, unwilling to surface at first. But his smile lures you out despite yourself.

He wants to know everything about you. How you got there, where you’re from, anything you’re willing to tell him. He’s amazed to find you’re from the human world. How did you manage to end up in the Devildom? Diavolo settles in beside the pond and you talk for hours. Eventually, Barbatos comes looking for him and you hide in the pond plants.

He comes back every day to check on you. He’s working on finding a way to send you home because he thinks you must long to return. He scolds himself when he realizes he secretly hopes he never finds a way. He wants you to stay here, with him. He’s drawn to you. When he isn’t with you, he’s thinking about how you must be lonely there in the pond’s depths without him. He rushes to return to your side as soon as he can.

He can’t help wanting to touch you. Your skin, your scales, your lips - you’re so unusual and he’s captivated by how gorgeous you are. He constantly brings you gifts, little things that remind him of you. He’s thrilled when you bring him things, too. Pretty pebbles you find or a particularly lovely flower you could reach from the water. You only ever reject one gift when he brings you a way to return to the human world. He’s relieved. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything if you left him now, MC. He works on finding a spell that will give you legs instead.

Barbatos

He’s in the forest area behind the castle, looking for specific Devildom tea ingredients. He knows the area well, having spent hours foraging there. He makes his way to a lake he knows that is further back in the trees. There is a specific flower that grows here that he likes to include in certain tea blends. But this is the first time he’s ever seen a merperson in the waters. You don’t see him at first, sitting upon a large rock, your tail just barely trailing in the water, your skin glistening in the starlight.

Barbatos watches you for a little while, not wanting to disturb you, but also not able to walk away. You’re mesmerizing and he can tell from a glance that you’re from the human world. He thinks of all the ways you could have ended up here. Likely some spell or possibly a spot in the river where the veil between worlds was too thin. It would be a simple matter to send you back. Too cautious, he leaves you alone. But he can’t stop himself from returning. The flower is an easy excuse to see you again.

You spot him, finally. Perhaps you’ve always known he was there. Perhaps he deliberately didn’t hide himself as well as he could have. You bring him a handful of flowers from the other side of the lake. You know what he’s there for. He asks for your story and you tell him everything - how you ended up here, how you’ve adapted to your new surroundings.

Barbatos suggests sending you home. You surge up onto the rock he first saw you on so you can take his hands. He’s startled by your boldness, but he finds he can’t pull himself away. You tell him that you would miss him if you left now. You have plenty of time and you know he does, too. Why not spend some of that time together? He smiles - soft, gentle, full of unexpected feeling. He would love nothing more than to stay by your side, MC.

Simeon

He’s on his way to the local Devildom fish market because he’s looking for ingredients for a dish he’s planning to make. But on his way, he gets a little distracted by the dark waves of the ocean nearby. He takes a detour to appreciate the sound of the water and finds himself squinting at a glimmer in the distance. As he watches, it comes closer and closer until eventually, you’ve washed up on the shore at his feet, glittering with water and brightly colored scales, a net tangled around you.

Simeon falls to his knees in the water, not caring about his clothes getting wet. You're struggling against the net and he can see that it's hurting you. He talks to you gently, calming you enough so that you'll stop thrashing. He works slowly and methodically, doing his best not to hurt you further. He finds a sharp shell to cut through the net, carefully detangling it from around you. When you're free, you swim out a ways, but you come back to him shortly. You're holding several of the exact fish he had just been on his way to purchase. He takes them gratefully.

He can tell right away you're not from here. When he asks you, you answer easily. He's gained your trust and you're not afraid of him at all. So he learns you're from the human world, that you aren’t sure how you ended up here. He knows how it feels to be out of place. He talks to you for some time, hoping to find out if he can help you return to where you belong.

Simeon brings you some of the food he makes with your fish the very next day. You continue to supply him with freshly caught Devildom fish, some of which are admittedly a little concerning. He always suggests finding a way to send you home. You always tell him that he has made the Devildom feel like home for you. Eventually, he stops asking. You find he likes to trace the pattern of the scales on your tail, his soft fingers making you shiver. You're unlike anything he's ever seen in any of the three worlds, MC. He can't help but feel happiness that you're here in this world with him.

Solomon

He’s experimenting in his laboratory as usual when the magic circle he’s working on suddenly activates. He’s surprised when you appear in the center of it, somehow summoned here from the human world. How did he even manage to do that? He doesn’t have time to figure it out because there’s a merperson glaring at him and flapping their tail angrily on his lab table. He picks you up right away, to prevent all his magical items from being knocked off and smashed.

Fortunately, Solomon has a large tub-like bucket he can put you in. He fills it with water with a simple spell. Then he has to spend several minutes apologizing profusely as you chew him out for summoning you at random. He’s also laughing, though, and you can’t help but start laughing along. It is pretty funny. And he is really cute.

You start asking him what he was trying to do. Your curiosity gets the best of you, but you find Solomon is ready and willing to explain the intricacies of the magic he was trying to perform. His enthusiasm is really adorable. You can’t help but continue to ask questions, if just to keep him talking. But inevitably, he mentions that he now has to find a way to send you back. You’re instantly opposed to this idea. You like it here, you tell him. As a merperson, you have your own natural magic. Maybe you could help him.

Solomon agrees to let you stay for a bit. He gets a large tank that he alters with magic so you have a whole ocean habitat inside of it. You help him with experiments and he finds he lingers near your tank much longer than he really needs to. He can’t stop watching the way your scales glitter in the water. When you’re partway out of the tank, he can’t stop himself from reaching out to touch your skin, leaving his fingertips damp. One day he tells you the truth. He wants you to stay with him always, MC. He teaches you how to use your magic better, how to do spells and make potions. He’s amazed at your abilities, as well as your ethereal beauty. He starts sleeping in his lab to be closer to you. In the end, neither of you bring up the idea of returning you to the human world again. But if you do go back, it will be because you’re going back with him.

Mephistopheles

As a member of the Devildom elite, Mephistopheles has access to what can only be described as a yacht. He takes it out into a calm bay, simply because it’s a nice day for sailing. Or at least it was until an unexpected thunderstorm closes in. The yacht is tossed about violently and high waves pouring over the deck wash him overboard. He’s sinking and fighting until his vision goes dark. When he comes to, he’s looking up into your eyes. It takes him a moment to realize his head is pillowed on something soft, that he’s still halfway in the water, but mostly on land.

Mephisto sits up and looks at you, realizing that his head was resting on your tail - bright, shimmering scales that sparkle in the moonlight. He’s amazed, staring at you in surprise, but all that registers on your face is concern. He didn’t know there were merpeople out here - he’s never seen one. That’s when you tell him you’re from the human world.

Perhaps he would have been unlikely to consider befriending you if you hadn’t saved his life. There was no question that he would have drowned if you hadn’t pulled him out of the agitated ocean. Human world or not, he knows he owes you. He offers to find a way for you to go home and you agree. He spends hours researching to find the best way to send you back. It takes some weeks, but he returns to the bay to give you updates on his progress. He won’t admit that he’s captivated by the way your eyes light up when you see him.

He finally finds the spell and he's about to say the words, but he stops when he looks at you. There's always a been a watery sheen to your eyes, but he can still tell you're about to cry. He stares at you for a moment and then deflates a bit in defeat. He's grown fond of you and at this point he'll say anything to bring back your smile. He can't look at you, though, his eyes on the sky and a blush on his cheeks. Do you want to stay here in the Devildom, MC? If you do, he'll make sure you're comfortable. He peeks at you to find the smile restored and he tries not to be irritated by the way his heart squeezes.

Raphael

He's returned to the Celestial Realm temporarily for a short visit. There's a long stretch of beach where he likes to practice with his spear, so he goes to see it again only to find you playing in the bright sunshine with a pair of celestial dolphins. When they spot him, the dolphins hide, but he watches as your eyes go wide and you swim a little closer to shore.

Raphael is concerned immediately. There are no merpeople in the Celestial Realm. How did you even get here? He wades out into the water, not worrying about his clothes - they can dry later. He gets as close as you'll let him. You seem to be okay with his presence, even allowing him to reach out and touch you. The soft dampness of your skin makes his gut twinge, but he ignores that feeling. He asks you questions and finds out you're from the human world. How you ended up in the Celestial Realm is a mystery. All he knows is he has to get you out of here.

He realizes quite quickly that his best bet is to simply carry you out of the Celestial Realm himself. But when his visit is over, he has to return to the Devildom. He explains this to you, but you seem unperturbed. You tell him that you don't care what world you're in, as long as you get to be with him. It makes him blush quite prettily.

And so when it's time for Raphael to leave, he picks you up out of the water and walks you out of the gates. He gets some odd looks from a few cherubim, but his threatening glare is more than enough for them to look the other way. He brings you to the Devildom where he finds you a nice lake near Purgatory Hall to live in. You're his responsibility now and he'll be sure to take care of you. But don't misunderstand him, MC. It's your inner light that keeps him coming back to you.

Thirteen

Thirteen's cave is quite large, but she's intimately familiar with every part of it. She's re-enforcing the traps in its various locations one day when she's startled by unexpected ripples on her underground lake. It's a large lake and sometimes there are fish there, but she's never seen ripples like these. And then a pair of eyes are peeking at her from across the water as you rise up just enough to see her.

She's immediately concerned. How did a merperson end up in her cave? And how long have you been there without her noticing!? When she learns you're from the human world, she's irritated. Who sent you here? Is this some kind of prank? She highly suspects a certain sorcerer. But in the end, it doesn't matter. You don't know what happened. And she needs to send you back.

You're reluctant already. You've been in this lake for some time now and it feels like home to you. Thirteen tries to argue with you about it, but she can't help letting you stay on for a while. You're pleading eyes get to her. She brings you food and finds herself sitting with you nearly every day. Sometimes you talk for hours. You have a lot of questions about her life and she's surprised at how easy it is to tell you all about it. She also notices the way your skin shimmers in the dim light of the cavern, the strange and watery look of your eyes and your hair and your scales.

You become a permanent fixture in Thirteen's cave. She builds a trap for that particular location that incorporates you. Any time it catches someone, you tell her all about it in excitement. One day she asks you if you miss your home. You tell her that you do sometimes. But that if you left, you would miss her more than you miss your home now. The blush this produces is the sweetest thing you've ever seen. That's good, MC, because you're part of her set up now! She's not likely to ever let you go.

older brothers | younger brothers | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[artinvain]

Sevika's reaction to her girlfriend cumming untouched from eating her out AAAAA pulling out my hair bangin on the walls I'm so normal for her I have nothing else to say I'm just vibrating at unimaginable speeds

fuuuckk thank u - been watching the bear so in keeping with that — we have chef!sevika

angst, fluff, smut, degradation, dom!sevika, oral (sevika receiving) after care, drugs (weed).

being a chef at one of piltover’s five star restaurants could kill sevika. sure she was strong physically, and she could hide her pain, but in the kitchen she was vulnerable. in the kitchen she was young again, clinging to her mother’s legs as she baked this thing or the other.

so when the head chef had told her that she had disappointed him with her fucking choux? to say she was devastated was an understatement. how did she fuck up a pastry she’s been making since she started culinary school almost a decade ago.

he went in on her, about her ethic — “you gave yourself too much to do again, you do not delegate and that does not work in our kitchen’s brigade.”

jesus christ he was worse than usual today. she tried to focus on folding in her pastry, thinking about; the eggs she had going low over vinegar, the last meal review — there were bones in a bake and she had shit on jinx for overlooking something so simple. and yet here she was, fucking up a choux. she could feel bile in her throat.

“Yes, chef,” sevika replied, restarting her batter and taking a deep breath,

“and when was the last time you did quick checks?”

“twenty three minutes go, chef,”

“for this event? for brunch sevika are you incompetent now?” he asks slamming his hand down on the hard metal of her island, “do you not know how quickly breakfast foods go? you need checks every ten chef,”

“yes, chef,”

“but here you are doing a choux a second time, something so simple you could do it asleep,”

“sorry chef,” sevika says, she couldn’t explain herself even if she wanted to. there was no conversation with silco — he talks and sevika listens, learns and adapts.

“we’re wasting piltover resources on undercity scum for charity we do not pay for fucking incompetence,” silco says so loudly the kitchen goes quiet for a moment. sevika can’t hear or see anything anymore. can’t hear silco asking her how she got into this industry, why she thought she was good enough. told her that she would never be good enough.

“are you fucking mute?” silco asks.

“no chef,” sevika says void of emotion.

“they chose you, despite my protestations. yes you are creative - but you have no work ethic” chef silco rounds her station,

“I’ll do better chef,” sevika says starting to pipe her choux, these were perfect.

“and here you are, disappointing me, as expected. but what do I know, right?”

there are people glancing nervously, they liked sevika, they were a family when silco wasn’t around and spent months trying to convince her that they loved her, regardless of where she came from which was “pretty fucking cool” according to them. they had finally started to get her to believe that she wasn’t a good chef she was great, one of the best — all that work undone in a moment.

sevika spent hours after her shift fucking up the punching bag at the gym, by the time she’s home — she’d cried for over an hour in the gym shower and now she was kind of just pissed. she didn’t want to feel small or afraid. she was a good chef — inside she knew that. she made a mistake and she couldn’t afford any inconsistency, it gave her heart palpitations. she wanted to be respected, revered, praised and when she enters your shared home she knows you’ll give yourself over to her in that way, you always do.

when she crawls into your bed, you put down your book and start to scratch through her damp hair and kiss her forehead, you can tell from the look on her face. “bad day?” you ask gently as she pulls you over her lap to straddle her lap. she rubs her hands over your thighs, grunting when you roll your hips and she smacks your ass. you’re stunning, sitting above her in her sweater, it’s falling off your shoulder and she feels your neck is too clean so she sits up to lick and kiss and suck on your neck so she can hear your pretty moans.

“promise, I’ll make it better,” you yelp and your breath hitches when she smacks your ass. you pull her face toward hers and kiss her feverently, licking into her mouth and moaning as she sucks on your tongue.

she pants into your mouth, her arms around her, guiding you to grind down on her. kisses you, her lips tasting and biting and sucking yours.

“get on your knees for me baby,” sevika pants, watching you kneel between her legs, moaning when you arch your back. you bend down so you’re nuzzling her mound, your ass on display for her. and she’s got a wet spot on her boxers, “yeah,” sev moans — “boxers off” she pants as you kiss her through her underwear, instead - teasing sucking and moaning around her clit.

“get them off, now sweetpea or you won’t cum for a week,” sevika nods “good girl,” when you scramble your remove her underwear and she whimpers when you face her cunt, warm and leaking as your dip your fingers through her lips, the soft hair of her mound against your cheek.

“please,” you gasp out, near burying your face between her legs but tittering on the edge - waiting for permission.

“I don’t know if you deserve it,” she tuts, a hand in your hair, tugging gently and keeping your head away from her pussy — all she wants it so suffocate you with her cunt but god did she love to hear you beg. “tell me you want me, beg to eat me out,”

“want to make you feel good sevika, please I need it, makes me feel good tasting you,”

“fuck you’re pathetic, so needy for my cunt aren’t you,”

you moans and kiss and suck her inner thighs,

“need to see you cum. please you take such good care of me — of everything, want you to feel good,” you whimper as sevika whispers out praise, “what a pretty slut I have — so needy just to get me off.”

sevika guides your face towards her cunt and — “come on be a good, dumb little fuck toy and eat my pussy baby,” you whine, your hips sharply meeting the bed, your body going weak as you taste her. her soft, wet pussy lips rubbing on your cheeks as you lick into her, going to suck on her clit after running your tongue up and down her slit, tasting her sweet and tart cunt.

“god, yeah good — jus like that,” she’s already on edge, so pent up, her back is tightening when you moan around her, she looks down and sees that you’re rutting against the bed, grinding on the sheets between your thighs as you eat her. “fuck, so riled up huh? you need this as much as I do - don’t you honey? yeah, christ just like that,” she groans when you dip your tongue into her leaking hole.

“fuck you’re such a slut, getting off on making me feel good — so needy for me,” she moans, cupping the back of your head and holding you to her as you start to suck and roll your tongue against the underside of her clit. “fuck lemme - let me fuck y-your face just a little baby,” she huffs “stick your tongue out for me, wanna use your mouth just a little,” sevika moans loudly as you whimper around her clit and she starts to buck her hips against your face.

sevika groans, her hips near lifting off the bed as she grips your head and guides your mouth, bobbing your head as you suck on her clit, moaning at the sounds of you slurping at her, whimpering against her.

“so good baby,” sevika moans “so good letting me use you like this, my perfect girl,” she whimpers you shift up a little bit, her thighs resting on your shoulders. you twitch, your thighs twisting together as you salivate on her pussy, pulling her close the feeling of the soft sheets on your clit, your lacy panties rubbing your swollen nub. your head is dizzy, her taste leaking into your mouth you swallow gratefully and moan, your hips twitching.

“oh my god, loot at you, actually fucking getting off, shit baby, you’re the prettiest slut I’m so lucky to have you,” she moans and you whine your nails biting into her thighs, you look up at sevika meeting her hooded eyes, “I love you baby,” she moans and your eyes roll back in your head as you cum.

seeing you cum all from eating her out, the feeling your you licking and sucking her cunt, your tongue rolling against her as she controls your movements, controls your pleasure. fuck, she’s cumming — holding your head in place she’s riding your face, hot white pleasure warming her body.

“f-fingers, fingers!” she whines when you sink two fingers into her and curl until you’re rubbing the perfect spot, fucking into her until she’s squirting, wetting your face and leaking down onto the sheets, you’re moaning and sucking at her clit and drinking all her pussy offers until she’s pushing your head away from oversensitivity, moaning when you resist her and keep fucking your fingers into her, sucking gently on her clit.

“fucking brat, shit, mm’gonna — keep -“ she’s fucking drunk on pleasure, her hands solely resting on your head as you fuck her into another orgasm.

when she comes down and you let off her clit, gently slipping your fingers from her and crawling up to have her bury her head between your tits and brush her hair away from her face.

“fuck thank you,” she sighs, pulling you in close and wrapping her arms around you, “I love taking care of you vika,” you say, kissing her face with sticky lips and then kissing her mouth.

“need to clean you up, maybe we take a bath and you can tell me about today?” you ask gently and sevika nods, you run the bath and fetch her when the water is hot and soapy. she can feel her muscles relax, smell the lavender and eucalyptus essential oils and,

“did you put the cbd oils in here?” she asks and you slide in, getting between her thighs - your legs on either side of her hips.

“yes, and I brought a joint,” you say as if it’s obvious, she smiles and kisses you, and puffs on it,

“I fucking hate silco,” she groans and fills to air around you with her exhale,

“I’m gonna kill him,” you say, “he terrorises you,”

“today i fucked up a choux and he called me undercity scum,” she sighs, she can only laugh about it now, but you’re enraged.

“what the fuck?” you say, trying to stand but sevika tugs you down by your arm, “no, I’m calling the resturant he can’t talk to you like that,” you say, “you’re not scum, you’re the best person I know,” you say sternly and sevika smiles at your protective nature.

“I know, because you remind me every day,” she pulls you closer and stuff the joint head in your mouth, “there, pacify yourself, I’m fine,” she grunts and kisses your cheek.

🤲🏼🏷️ @archangeldyke-all @sexysapphicshopowner @sevsbaby @iamaboringrattat @lavendersgirl @bimboprincezz @opropheticsoul @ariariarr

[2-dsimp]

Hey, @2-dsimp!

Idk if you're still doing request for Genshin, but if you are, can you please do Éclair + Devil cake for Albedo (I don't care if this dude is a synthetic human, he still needs some love-)

(Btw I was thinking of Villain!Albedo x Hero!Fem!Reader)

If you don't wanna do it if fine ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

～【Smutty imagines】🍒

→《Ft! FEM READER》

————————————————————————

[🔞] Case study #1 [🔞]—> ft! Villianous! Albedo! NSFW MDNI, Mindbreak, coercion, dubcon, slight bimbofication, praise, unhinged behavior, yandere tendencies, cockworship, deepthroat, male oral recieve! Slight humiliation

————————————————————————

『Albedo conditioning You to be his cumdump』

。Albedo was only trying to help you. Although you may have seen him as an arch nemesis he saw you to be his destiny. Why else would he bother holding back on destroying that worthless city of which he could’ve easily could’ve terminated without a moments notice?

。He was utterly enamored by you and tried his best to persuade that thick skull of yours to abandon those parasites and join his side. But no matter how much he tried to get you to see reason you’d only brush off his efforts. Despite how frustrating it was, that stubbornness of yours was his favorite quality about you.

。He tricked you into coming to his aid under the pretense of helping him turn over a new leaf only to trap you within his penthouse. Making you wear an electronic collar, all the more to help discipline and mold you into the woman he knew you’d eventually become in all due time. His sweet obedient housewife.

。It made him wonder how long it would take to break you.

→ “I’m so proud of how far you’ve progressed my love, haah you’re taking in my cock so well, so willingly…with such eagerness.”

。He’d groan, languidly humping his pelvis against your face. Pulling on your hair so you could properly cater to servicing his throbbing pretty cock adorned in prominent veins from balls to his pink tip. As he suffocates you with his heavy balls that were bench pressed against your nose. Hypnotizing you with his enticing musk of which he infused with certain pheromones to help you become more of a willing participant.

→ “Yes keep it up darling, don’t stop until you make me cum. Don’t You wanna please me? Mmh make your husband feel so wonderful just like the good girl that I know you are?”

。He rasped reaching his breaking point from the sloppy toppy you gave his mushroom pearly tip so reverently and his hips stuttered as he pulled you up by your hair and shoved your face to take his rod to the hilt. Allowing you to feel his abdomen and balls flexing against the cockdrunk expression present against your face.

→”Fuck, I love how you attempt to take every last drop. You’re such a pretty little wife for me when you’re obedient. Now smile for the camera love I’ve got to document how well you’ve grown to adapt to being mine.”

。Albedo praised with a small smile. He felt so complete spurting his hot sticky load into your open mouth. Filming your face in his baby batter while he was content in watching his outload drip from down to your chin. Watching you with satisfaction and pride that you belong to him and no one else. As you tried your best to swallow every bit of his manhood’s nectar.

。Snap!

。The sound of a camera shutter going off echoed throughout the room. As the villain captured your messy face all filled with his creamy load. To mark a corner stone in yalls happy relationship where you acted as his ever so faithful housewife.

→ “You’re so perfect when you’re under my control.”

————————————————————————

A/n: I’m back in business yall! ٩(˃̶͈̀௰˂̶͈́)و

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Do you see the differences between the game and the novel Twisted Wonderland? I didn't notice much until I searched on Youtube, Novel Ace was ready to apologize to Yuu ( in this case Yuuya) for insulting, Malleus isn't our little sweet dragon boy but literally choking Yuuya ?!

Yes, I do keep up with the differences between all official adaptations of TWST! This includes the light novel, which in my opinion has the most frequent and significant deviations from the game. It’s been very interesting to compare the two.

I don’t immediately comment on every change (of which there are many) I see unless specifically asked about it or I notice something pretty major. Some examples of the latter would be the like novels elaborating on Leona’s motives or Riddle’s flashback and the consequences of his actions.

I think this is facilitated by two factors: 1) the light novel format allowing for more space to expand on ideas and concepts, and 2) Yuuya is the most different Yuu we’re gotten. The game Yuu is very much a blank slate for players to project onto in order to easily immerse them in the story. Meanwhile, the manga Yuus tend to be the “helpful” types that move the story along in their own way. This is because the manga has limited space in the magazines they run in, so they need to keep things snappy and follow the main story pretty strictly. The light novel is able to stop and have the POV character reflect, doubt themselves, and refuse involvement because a medium that is inherently mostly words forces you to slow down and take in everything on the page. There’s no limit or demands of a book, so the events have much more time to “marinate”.

Personally, I really love a lot of the minor changes in the light novel. I feel they really flesh out the relationships between characters, particularly Yuuya and his friendship with Ace and Deuce. Ace actually has the guts to realize he was the one who fucked up and apologizes for being an ass. It’s so in line with the brutal honesty he dishes out it to others. Deuce stays up late into the night talking to Yuuya and makes them feel welcome because when was the last time he had done anything like this? Yuuya was always the loner back home, ignored by his classmates and feeling invisible. Now he has loyal friends who got his back and actively tell off mob students who sneer at his enrollment. Moments like this make me really care about their bond and make it more believable that they would trek halfway across Twisted Wonderland to come to Yuuya’s aid in the eventual book 4 of the novelization.

dbksbejwjwwhei The one thing that caught me off guard about your ask was the “Malleus chokes Yuuya” part, which I do not recall ever happening 😅 I went back into the light novel to cross reference just in case I had forgotten! I believe you’re referring to when Yuuya and Malleus first meet in book 2? In which case, I think there was reader misinterpretation involved.

What happens is that Malleus begins to introduce himself, then stops and says he permits Yuuya to pick a name for him. But Yuuya, feeling uncomfortable with the idea of nicknaming someone he just met, so he asks for Malleus’s actual name (something which game Yuu does not do). This incurs Malleus’s anger—“I have said no. Did you not hear me?” It is then that we get a few paragraphs describing how Yuuya goes “stiff”, a “briar-like tension seizes his body, making it impossible to move”, “fear [making his] heart race”, he “[forgets] to breathe” etc. (Fan translation by Yuurei!)

To me, that… doesn’t read as Malleus choking Yuuya, let alone laying a finger on him. It’s more like Yuuya is so consumed by fear that he finds himself entirely paralyzed and unable to argue back, so instead he submits and lets the subject drop. There’s no mention of Malleus “letting go” or anything either, just the fairy lights brightening again once his mood clears and he realizes Yuuya isn’t looking to defy him. It’s also important to note that, previously, the night in this scene was described as tranquil and pleasant—the emphasis is on how Malleus’s mood shifts the atmosphere and the “feeling” of the night.

So!! The “seizing” mentioned is NOT literal; a feeling could “seize” you too, coming in suddenly and with great power. This is a literary device known as personification, or giving a non-human object or action human-like qualities or skills. When used to describe the briar-like feeling, it’s also a simile, which is when you use “like” or “as” to compare two things.

… Besides, imagine Yuuya being choked out by someone during your first meeting and then no description of him freaking out?? And then still building a whole friendship based on this weird encounter??? Even though Yuuya has a history of catastrophizing and even thinks about Leona explicitly tearing his throat out just because of Leona’s powerful presence???? That just does not make sense. It also doesn’t make sense for Malleus’s character. Yes, he can lash out at people, but here it feels like he’s telegraphing his displeasure (via the atmosphere, similar to how his mood disrupts the weather) rather than resorting to a physical attack (or using magic to bind someone in place).

[mothiir]

So how would a non-con totally casual affair between Sevatar x reader workout?

Fair warning, this turned into a bit of an essay :’)

In the books, it’s pretty strongly implied that there is something ‘not quite right’ about Sevatar — maybe he’s a sociopath, or maybe it’s just the general uncanniness of being a psyker. However, its enough for me to think that he probably isn’t the sort to muck in with his brothers every time they take a world and find some pretty women — I’m not saying that he disapproves, more that he just considers it all a little dull. Rape is just one of many crimes that his brothers commit, and most of his sexual appetites have probably been sublimated either into bearing the colossal weight of holding the majority of the Night Lords’ common sense, or into fighting back his latent psyker ability.

So, in a pre-heresy world — just because I like writing about things before everything crashes and burns (and because I don’t want to learn the heresy lore, there’s so much of it) — Sevatar is focused largely on torture-kill-flay. He also suffers from crippling migraines from said repressed psychic ability. The only thing that soothes the pain is the sound of crow wings flapping; back on his home planet he fed the crows bits of corpse, and although I’m not sure if he brought them with him when he travelled off with Konrad I’m going to say yes, because crows are great.

The reader is probably fairly new to Night Lord service — a conscript from one of the more compliant worlds, rather than a trophy of conquest, because Night Lord trophies don’t tend to last long. You’re doing your best to adapt to your new reality, keeping your head down, avoiding notice. The other serfs warn you that there are really only a few ways to deal with the inevitable attentions of bored Night Lords: get really good at hiding, deliberately make yourself look as unappealing as possible, or find one of the more tolerable Astartes and hope that he can be convinced to protect you in exchange for your body. That last one comes with considerable risk — Astartes are fickle, cruel things, and stories abound of poor women being bedded one day and flayed the next.

You have chosen to hide. That is why you find yourself in a corner of the Night Fall, eating the scraps of your breakfast, when you see a crow. For a moment, you think you’re hallucinating — then you realise that no, that is really a crow. They’re found all over the galaxy, spread by long-forgotten human colonisers, though this one is a little larger than the ones you are used to. Still, you give it a crust of bread, because it looks skinny, because you want to, because even now in the belly of hell you want to try and hold tight to the last lingering shreds of your decency. You are human, no matter how the creatures around you act.

It becomes a habit. You sneak off to feed the crows, and they come to recognise you, cawing in excitement when you arrive. You can never feed them more than a little bit of bread or some scraps of meat, but they don’t seem to care. They perch in your hair, peck at your ears, yell at you and at each other like fishwives announcing their catch. You imagine that they are treating you to all the latest gossip, and find yourself talking back to them. You tell them that you are lonely. That you are frightened. That even the other humans here are warped and bitter, and you pray that you will die before you become like them. And then you admit that isn’t true: that you don’t want to die. You want wings, you say, wings and keen black eyes. The freedom of a bird.

It’s all nonsense, of course, and you know in your heart that it cannot last — you’re certain that soon one of the other serfs will see you sneaking off and move to eliminate the birds, seeing them as pests. But, selfishly, you cannot bring yourself to stay away from them. Once or twice they bring you gifts in return for food: a veterbrae you’re almost certain is human in origin. A bit of skin, complete with tattoos. You graciously accept both, discarding the skin at the first opportunity, but keeping the bone. At least the bone doesn’t smell of death, and you can pretend it is something else. You keep it in your pocket, where it is swiftly worn smooth by your grasp.

And one day, it all changes. You sit in your usual place, with one crow in your hair, another in your lap, when the cawing starts up once more. Not a warning, but a welcome. An unseen door opens; the flock descends, and you’re left with two birds and the rabbit-pulse of your heart on your tongue. You don’t know who the First Captain is — your new masters haven’t really informed you of more than what is needed to do your duty — but you know that he is a Night Lord, and that you are dead. You wonder if he will spare the crows — you hope he will. Or maybe they will escape, with black wings and swift talons, and —

He’s feeding them. You freeze, once again thinking that this isn’t real, you must be hallucinating, and one of the crows takes advantage of your sudden lack of movement. She pulls a strip of flesh from the hunk of dripping red meat Sevatar holds, and flutters over to you, taking up position on your shoulder.

She then tries to ram the meat into your mouth. Crows, after all, are clever birds, and this one has been a mother thrice over, and she knows what starvation looks like. To her, you are a frail flock member, a chick in need of fattening up — and crows share with those who share with them. When you recoil, hand coming up to block her insistent jabs, she chatters impatiently, and pecks you smartly on the cheek in reprimand.

Sevatar laughs at the display. You’ve never heard a Night Lord laugh, because you’ve never been in a situation they find entertaining — which is much to your benefit, because those situations normally leave serfs dead or wishing they were. The sound distracts you, and the crow mother finally succeeds in jabbing the meat past your teeth. Horrified, you swallow, praying it isn’t human, and wondering if that’s it — if you are already dead, and this is some absurd afterlife hallucination.

For his part, Sevatar is interested. It takes a lot to ignite any curiosity in his jaded mind, but here you are, like a flash of iridescence on a magpie’s wing; something bright amongst the monochrome.

He has you feed the crows with him, noting how gentle you are with them, even when they leave your hands bloody with acquisitive little pecks — nothing malicious about it, only that they are scavengers, and sometimes you do not magic the food up fast enough. You tell him your name and your position in a trembling voice, and he informs you that you have been reassigned. You do not question this. You do not question much — it’s how you have survived so long.

He takes you to his quarters, and of course you fear the worst at once, doing some mental arithmetic — he seems to be almost eight feet tall, and preportionately large everywhere — but he directs you to a (slightly stained) sofa and throws a blanket at you. He doesn’t trust the other serfs, he says, not to have a go on you. You flush, assure him that none of them have even hinted at it, and he looks surprised. Normally the older servants go straight for the pretty new girls.

Congratulations, you’re now Sevatar’s personal serf. It’s a fairly easy job, all things considered. No heavy lifting (he can take his own armour off) and no caring for human hides (he can tan his own cloak, thank you very much). On your first day polish his armour obsessively, because you don’t have much else to do. He asks you why you have repainted his pauldrons and you have to — gently — say that no, that’s just the colour they go when they are clean. He has you prepare food for his crows, and you learn that they are his, and in no danger from anyone. No one will touch them, because they know better than to incur Sevatar’s wrath.

On the second night, he comes back late from a meeting with his father, with a face like a thunderhead. Blood drips from his eyes, and his face is twisted in bestial agony. You want nothing more than to cringe and sob, but you think of the crows — of how merciless they are to their prey, and how mewling only proves that you are something to be devoured. Instead you greet him, and ask if you can help. He shows his teeth, but lets you stroke his hair, and rub his temples, and although he doesn’t go so far as to fall asleep in your lap he visibly relaxes, his breathing evening out. You ask if that is all he needs of you, and he says no, and bids you remove your clothes.

It’s not unexpected, and not completely unpleasant — though it is painful. Sevatar is large, and although he does try to open you up on his fingers — using his own armour oil as lubricant — he soon loses patience and pushes himself inside. You grit your teeth against a wail of pain as his cock bullies past tight walls, his breath humid in your ear. He takes you from behind, mantling you like a great bird of prey. He tells you how good you feel, how tight and sweet, and you feel him smirk into your nape when you start to cry. You do cum before he does, driven there almost out of self defence, your whole body one taut nerve. He follows you over the edge, spilling inside and remaining there as his hearts thunder against your back.

The next day, he tattoos you with a mix of his blood and ink, across your abdomen and down your leg. The tattoo takes far longer to heal than it should, because he can’t seem to stop licking at it — but it is the closest you can get to safe here, and for that you are thankful.