#“it might be necessary for you to tie me up”

[wirewitchviolet]

So I was already sitting down to ramble about something, and turns out this post and this big reply under it tie in pretty well, so, here we go.

There are enough bespoke issues trans people justifiably feel very passionate about, and enough different experiences different trans people have that it is damn easy to end up in a huge fight because one person tried to make a nice simple statement for a clueless cis audience, but viewed through another person's lens it reads like some kind of attack. And it certainly never helps that bigots are actively out there constantly trying to co-op messages and sew infighting that any statement no matter how clear and good WILL get weaponized.

Before I get into the above, the go-to example I was planning to use was "you don't have to transition to be trans." There's a ton of ways you can read that which are great and worth echoing. For instance, "hey, if you've worked out that people got your gender wrong, you are trans and can come hang out in the trans clubhouse and ask for advice and all that without proving it through medical intervention."

Or, "hey don't be a weird gatekeeping creep who only recognizes people's gender if they don't jump through a particular medical hoop like taking a particular medication or get a particular surgery, which might not be something they even want due to risks, side effects, or not seeing it as a problem to begin with, and/or might not be something they CAN do anything about, because the typical medical treatment would not work on them for any number of reasons/is prohibitively expensive/too socially dangerous to go forward with in their current situation/is only even done by like a couple dozen specialists in the world who are booked out years in advance and many of whom actively discriminate against all sorts of potential patients."

You can see how it's nice to have a short catchy phrase. BUT it's absolutely a reality that awful bigots these days are going with the wildly bad faith and not even remotely true reading of "it's OK to deny transition-related care to trans people, because they don't actually NEED it!"

And you know, regardless of where you're encountering this phrase, you should always bear in mind those points about being totally valid and welcome in the community without a signed doctor's note, and how it's completely valid to be, oh, a woman who's hung like a horse and proud of it and such women shouldn't be treated like they need to go see someone about that, give people the benefit of the doubt that they're using it in such a sense if there's any chance they are, and at the same time be on the lookout for bad faith creeps misusing it and taking whatever steps are necessary to prevent them from to or about any trans person again unless/until they somehow manage to stop being a hateful piece of garbage and somehow become a decent human being.

Phew. All THAT out of the, way, I take a fair deal of issue with seeing the comment above me saying "the 'not transgender' people in the poster are clearly intersex" because holy hell is that a bad faith reading. All the concerns regarding intersex kids following that jumping off point are super valid and worth mention, of course. Doctors are constantly looking at baby's junk, going "huh, that doesn't look right, lemme do a quick surgery I'm not even necessarily trained in to get this looking more like whichever configuration I personally prefer the aesthetics of here, that probably won't cause any long term memory problems or trauma and there's almost a 50/50 shot I'm guessing right about what this kid'll want things looking like down here in a couple decades!" And that is just incredibly messed up. As is the practice of just throwing, say, testosterone boosters at someone perceived to be a teenage boy who doesn't seem "manly enough" to someone, which is a general queer kid concern, sure.

But none of that is going on in this poster. What's going on is kids getting hit with puberty-related symptoms they do not want (specifically boobs beards and voice changes), clearly stating this, and asking for medical help to make them not happen. If we wanna play Occam's Razor with the kids plainly labelled as "not transgender," boys growing breasts is called gynecomastia and a quick Google search confirms that... it is completely useless as a search engine because it's giving me 20 conflicting reputable-looking sources ranging from 1% to 70% of teenage boys. Facial hair on cis women is also really freaking common, to a point where it being relatively rare if you're white specifically makes it feel more like a racism thing than anything.

The real thing to remember though is that the obvious reason this poster exists is to get people who are completely uneducated on any of this and have been steadily exposed to propaganda from transphobes for their entire lives to the point where they have a hard time imagining trans people as actual human beings to consider the concept of HRT from a clear perspective by taking us out of the equation for a moment and just making them try to empathise with kids dealing with some of the same stuff, and it has to make that point in less time than it takes someone to finish walking past this telephone pole or wherever else someone might place this. And... OK if I'm really honest it's probably still too wordy and reliant on people having SOME idea of what being trans even means, but it's pretty good within those restrictions! Don't overthink it! Really don't project stuff that absolutely is not actually on there onto it! Focus more on actual bigots and doing something about what they're doing than nitpicking people who are doing good effective activism work you'd phrase differently!

This is the first time i’ve seen a pro-trans poster in a long time and i hope whoever put it up is having a good day, it made me feel a little less alone.

Hamilton, New Zealand

[amiharana]

Magnet as a revalink song👀?

i hope this was referring to the vocaloid song 'magnet' i only know like three vocaloid songs and those are World is mine, romeo & cinderella, and irony (but the lizz robinett eng cover) ☝️😀

i also realize now that this is the song with the extremely intimate 'staring longingly into one another's eyes while our butterfly headphones mics are intertwined' album cover and i couldn't be anymore pleased to enthusiastically announce that YES, that in itself is so revalink 😋 where is the fanart for it i need it so bad

miku!revali x luka!link, but here's my live slug reaction to the lyrics. (i skipped the first verse, but i used a mix of this video and this vocaloid lyric wikia to look at lyrics. lmk if the translations are wrong or if there are better interpretations!)

I'm wrapped around your finger from the lips to the tongue Even if this is something that cannot be allowed, The flames jump higher still

if there's anything that anyone should know about me as revalinker, it's that i'm completely obsessed with the idea of link always being wrapped around revali for cuddles, for napping on him, etc., and revali just letting him because he's so fond of link he can't and won't say no. link is wrapped around revali's finger (his wing?) physically; revali is wrapped around link's finger metaphorically.

and for the next lines, consider the idea of revali with this warped idea of loving and being loved in his status as a champion, and him trying to maintain a boundary between the two of them. he tries to find every excuse why he and link can't be together even though he's desperately in love with link anyway; they're champions and have responsibilities to their people, they're foils to each others, they butt heads too often, they're too different to be together, or what would the other champions, or the people of hyrule think if they knew they were together? and yet still, they can't help but continue to seek each other out and intertwine and wrap around each other once more.

Every moment, it's harder to restrain myself If this is love, I want to wear it on my sleeve The "strange feeling" turns into an unbearable longing I would follow you to the end of forever

OH MY GOD. I CAN'T BREATHE. STOLE THE BREATH OUT OF MY LUNGS. there's a reason why i said luka!link i was like THESE LINES. THIS IS LINK RIGHT HERE.

going back to what i said about revali trying to keep them apart for all his stupid reasons, link disregards all of them because he wants revali and he knows revali wants him, too. he knows revali just wants to protect the both of them from anything that could tear them apart or anyone who could oppose them, but who cares what others think? if link hadn't already vowed to silence, he would wish to declare his love for revali for the rest of his days, to wear his heart on his sleeve proudly.

the last two lines. oughghfj. ougugh! i'm screaming crying shitting pissing and throwing up. oh god. i love slow burn for revalink so bad, especially link taking forever to realize that he's in love with revali but when he finally does, he's completely devoted. link being like "what is this feeling. i'm supposed to hate your ass but um. i kinda can't live without it." KJDHFJKSDFHJKSDKJFH he would have followed revali into the afterlife and dragged his soul back if he could

With a heart that has gone astray, We will melt so easily That there's no free time for us even to feel each other's tenderness

thinking about link who puts his duty as the wielder of the sword that seals that darkness over his own happiness, over his own love for revali, because that's his responsibility, his purpose. what else was he made to do?

thinking about revalink who will never get the chance to love each other, to hold each other close and look upon each other fondly and sweetly because of that damned calamity. there's no place for tenderness in these prophetical battlefields. they were always doomed to never be.

What has been repeating is not our dream, But the unmistakably realistic "we" If we touch, I know we can never go back, But that's fine; you are everything in the world to me

THEY'RE SO CLOSE. SO CLOSE YET SO FAR. i'm telling you, revali, it doesn't have to be this way, you can have link if you just choose to be with him 🥹

but also i was talking to @senchee the other day about an au timeline split where it's like avengers: endgame when captain america goes back in time to be with peggy. what if after totk, link went back in time to be with revali. haha. "if we touch i know i can never go back" when he gets sent back in time by rauru or something, it was actually just to send his spirit to see the champions one last time as a fulfilled wish, and rauru tells him not to touch anyone in the past because he'll get stuck there with no way of returning to the present if he does (but rauru is fully aware of what link is about to do 😋)

hylians and rito aren't long lived, especially not over a hundred years if that's how far back link went, but when link doesn't return from the past, rauru takes zelda to rito village goddess statue, where there is now a tablet on revali's landing, memorializing link and revali :)

As dawn breaks, I become uneasy and end up in tears When you whispered, "It's alright", did I hear tears in your voice too?

it's giving the scene in 'pinesong' by aperplexingpuzzle when revali cries every time he watches the sunrise. i love that fic so much i need to go back and reread the revalink bible.

if totk link went back in time to be with revali, do you think he'd cry at the sunrise too, counting every single sacrifice he had to make to be back here again?

and lastly,

I want you to embrace me, I want you to tell me that you don't think this is a mistake I want you to kiss me, I want you to remake me, I want to drown in this moment of captivation I'm drawn to you like a magnet Even if I left, we would find each other again Let's become one; I can never go back but that's fine You're everything in the world to me

oh my god. oh my god. i can't move. you people are gay 🫵😧🏳️‍🌈

revali may speak verbosely, decorating his intentions in all sorts of flowery words, but for link, desire is plain. it's so easy to fluster revali with such simplicity; what better way to convey it with such directness?

[onyourowndaisymae]

presenting the obey me dateables (+ luke) with a friendship bracelet

you all asked so nicely for the dateables that i couldn't help but get inspired! i intend to reverse this prompt and write the characters making you a friendship bracelet sometime soon (will be split by demon brothers/dateables bc that's so many words)

[the demon brothers version]

[the dateables (+ luke) presenting you with a friendship bracelet]

content warnings: none

prompt: you grin down at your work. in your hands is a small friendship bracelet, lovingly crafted from hard work and the embroidery thread you found in your closet. you weren't quite sure why you'd made it, but the thought of giving a certain someone the bracelet and watching their reaction made you smile. now, to hand it off...

Diavolo

this is a mistake.

at least, that's what barbatos and lucifer think. because from the moment you present diavolo with a friendship bracelet, it is all he talks about.

when you approach him with the little gift--a red and black bundle of knots and strings-- and offer it up, he laughs jovially and asked what it was. you explain it's a friendship bracelet. from where you're from, you make them for people you care about, so they can have a piece of you with them every day. it's usually a tradition for children and teens, but you thought it would be fun to give him the bracelet regardless. you were just thinking about him (and his lonely childhood-- but you don't say that part aloud) and how he didn't really do stuff like this when he was young... so maybe he'd appreciate it now? you start to feel a little silly by the end of your explanation, so you look up at him to try to gauge his reaction.

you would have thought you proposed with how touched this man looked.

his expression softens and his eyes go wide. he puts out his hands to take the gift and you hand it over. his face quickly splits into a grin as he inspects each individual knot and string. did you really make this? he's impressed. look at how lovely it is! he raves about the quality for longer than necessary (it's not that good, mind you) as you flush from all the praise.

you offer to tie it for him and his eyes sparkle. truly, you never thought he'd enjoy a gift like this that much-- nonetheless, you're incredibly flattered.

how did you make this bracelet? what material is this? will you teach him how to make one, too? how often is he supposed to wear this?

the last question makes you chuckle. honestly, that's up to him. you tell him about that time you wore a friendship bracelet all summer one year, until it was a frayed biohazard that stank up the whole room. you recommend taking it off for showers and activities that might get it that dirty-- please, diavolo, learn from your childhood mistakes-- but other than that, he can wear it whenever he feels like. you assure him that your feelings won't get hurt if he doesn't, but he quickly reassures you that he definitely plans on wearing it.

... and he is not bluffing when he pledges this commitment to you. diavolo will wear his friendship bracelet all day every day, only taking it off when absolutely necessary. that does not include formal meetings or events. he is wearing that damn bracelet. what are they going to do, call him out? he's the fucking demon king (well, close enough).

Barbatos

you present barbatos with the bracelet one day when you've joined him for an afternoon in the kitchen.

he's carefully explaining how he gets the texture to this pastry just right-- there's a clear balance between airiness and moisture, you see-- while you try to listen. you can't help but let your mind wander as he talks. doesn't he know this friendship bracelet is practically burning a hole in your pocket?!

"mc, are you listening?"

he's looking up at you with expectant eyes, and you feel yourself flush in embarrassment. you barely get alone time with him as-is, and here you are, wasting it! you apologize and explain you've been a bit distracted. he welcomes you to share (if you are so inclined), pausing his work to give you his full attention.

it's now or never. you can either be brave, or you can walk back to the house of lamentation with your tail between your legs!

you present the butler with your creation-- a green and black friendship bracelet-- with a small explanation of what it is. you feel juvenile presenting an ancient demon such a childish gift, but he accepts your gift with a nod and a small smile. barbatos sets aside the gift for the rest of the day, careful that it won't get soiled by the mess of ingredients as he continues his baking lesson.

you assume barbatos has stored in somewhere out of sight-- you'd like to think he cares enough about your feelings to keep it, but you have also never seen him wear it. you're starting to feel like an idiot for even gifting him such a silly thing in the first place. he's arguably the second most powerful demon in the realm. he doesn't have time for a chintzy little bundle of strings from some insignificant human!

you're at the castle one day on another retreat with the rest of the house of lamentation residents. in a chaotic scuffle with one of his brothers, mammon manages to knock an open bottle of demonus directly into barbatos' chest. the butler sighs and begins to take off his coat while lucifer is moments away from tearing mammon into thirds.

as he opens his jacket, you spot it.

pinned inside the front of his jacket is, undoubtably, your bracelet. you recognize that striped pattern from a mile away. you can't forget the embarrassing amount of time you spent toiling away over cheap embroidery floss (not to mention the several mess-ups you had to throw out). you almost can't believe that's where he's been keeping it all this time.

barbatos catches you staring at the bracelet and gives you a small, secret smile. he leaves the jacket open for a moment longer-- it's like he knows, like he's letting you commit the image to memory-- before folding it neatly in his arms. he turns on his heel and walks back to his room before you can react further.

you're a little bummed to see him go. after all, that bracelet was probably ruined in all the liquid-y chaos from a few minutes ago. yet when he returns, adjusting his jacket one last time, you swear you see a flash of green and black string.

maybe it was just your imagination. and maybe that knowing look on his face was, too.

Simeon

you've found the clump of tangled embroidery floss in your closet among things you've brought from the human world. you aren't really sure how it got there, but you've got some free time to kill-- why not try to make one of those friendship bracelets you had growing up?

it starts out in your head as a stupid little joke. who among the people you know here would be the most accepting of a dumb little gift like this?

... simeon, probably. i mean, the guy's an angel. isn't being gracious and kind part of their whole schtick?

as you weave the threads together, you feel yourself get excited. simeon means a lot to you. he's been there any time you've needed him throughout the entire exchange program, always there to lend a hand or a listening ear whenever you so desire. you don't get to see him as much as you'd like, seeing as he lives all the way over at purgatory hall, but you feel you're close enough to give him such a gift.

you catch him after class at RAD one day. you don't have time run by purgatory hall after school, and you're worried if you wait much longer to give him the bracelet, you'll somehow lose or destroy it. when you approach, he's all smiles.

"mc? to what do i owe the honor?"

you ask if you can speak to him alone-- nobody misses the suggestively suspicious look solomon tosses the two of you-- and he leads you to a quite corner of the hallway.

suddenly, this whole thing feels very silly. but, at this point, you've already dragged him away from everyone, so you might as well go through with it.

you pull the blue and white friendship bracelet from the pocket of your uniform and offer it out to him. you explain that it's a friendship bracelet, something that human kids usually exchange as a show of friendship and devotion. you were in the mood to make one the other night and thought he might appreciate it. there. that didn't sound too cringe, right?

your gaze slowly lifts from your hands to find simeon in as disheveled of a state as you. his cheeks are flushed and his face is frozen as he processes your explanation. then a slow, delighted smile spreads over his cheeks.

out of everything to happen today, he definitely did not anticipate this happening. yet he couldn't be more pleased. he gives you his thanks as you tie the bracelet around his wrist-- over his gloves, so he can show it off to everyone, he tells you.

what did you say these were for? an expression of friendship? he's touched that you'd include him in an intimate human ritual like this (it's not that deep, but his smile makes you bite your tongue). would you be willing to stop by purgatory hall sometime soon so he can learn more about it? he loves any story you tell, after all.

you part ways with identical grins and a promise to meet again sometime soon. simeon assures you that he'll take care of the bracelet-- it's very special, you know, since you're the one that gave it to him.

and take care of it he does. every time you see him, he's wearing that bracelet. it looks nicer than the day you gave it to him! you're surprised, until satan reminds you simeon's always wearing white. clearly, he's good at keeping things clean.

he wears a big ass white cloak all day, every day. you think a little bracelet is going to trip him up? nah. simeon values your gift-- the gesture, the time you put into making him the bracelet, the skill it took to make such a pretty little thing-- too much to let an ounce of dirt sully his favorite present.

Solomon

hey, solomon. you want a friendship bracelet?

he looks up from his school work to eye you curiously. you two are on opposite sides of a table in one of RAD's many libraries. you're supposed to be studying, but you got bored fifteen minutes ago and haven't been productive since.

you pull a bundle of embroidery floss out of your pocket and spread it out on the table. a rainbow of colors sits mostly untangled-- you've been trying all day, but some knots are simply too stubborn-- across the smooth wood, and across the materials you should really be studying right now.

got a color preference, sorcerer boy, or am i going to have to give you the ugliest combination i can think of?

he laughs and tells you to do your worst. are you actually going to make one, though? how do you even remember how to do that? he admits he's never actually had one before. you tease him for being a lonely old man. he teases you right back for being a dweeb who wastes brain space on how to make gifts for third graders.

just for that comment, his bracelet's going to be ugly. and you won't even try to make it not lumpy, too. in your face, peepaw.

you get to work weaving the strings into a particular pattern of knots. you've chosen snot green and tree bark brown, paired nicely with a subtle hot pink for a more elegant look. slowly but surely, you start forming the stripes of the bracelet. you can feel his eyes on you, but for once, you decide not to tease him. you're feeling generous today, after all.

when you finish, you tie off the lose end and untape the other from the front of your textbook-- that's certainly the most useful its been to you all day-- with a victorious little smirk. he's still watching you work. you've succeeded in distracting him as well, congrats! it's what he deserves for dragging you into a half an hour argument between levi and asmo last week for no other reason than to see you struggle to keep the peace. karma's a bitch, and seeing this ugly ass bracelet across his wrist will be the cherry on top.

you instruct him to hold out his wrist and he complies. you start tying the ends together, careful not to permanently knot it around his wrist, when--

"wow, you actually made it for me. does that mean we're best friends now? i guess i'll have to brag to those brothers about it, won't i?"

you feel your life flash before your eyes. suddenly, you can hear it in your mind-- seven overlapping voices arguing, louder and louder, for you to make them a friendship bracelet as well. nothing will satiate their jealousy with each other. it's like entertaining a horde of toddlers: a gift to one is an insult to the rest.

oh. oh shit.

you're on your feet before you can speak. suddenly, maybe you don't want solomon to have that bracelet anymore. but he's always five steps ahead of you. literally, in this case, seeing as he's already taken off towards the other end of the library. oh hell no.

you manage to catch up to him eventually, and the afternoon devolves into you (playfully and consensually) bullying each other over the gift.

for all his big talk, he does actually wear the bracelet every day. you think that it's mostly to make you worry that one of the brothers might ask about it-- and that's definitely a big part of why he does it, seeing as he smirks every time he catches you looking at it-- but you think there must be a part of him that actually likes it, ugly color scheme and all.

it's solomon, remember? horrible chef, spellcaster to varying degrees of success, general menace to society. that bracelet is filthy in a matter of days. what's worse, though, is that he also has a terrible habit of breaking or losing it. this would be fine under normal circumstances. no harm, no foul, right? but every three to four business days, whenever he breaks it or covers it in mud or loses it somewhere in the hallway, he's up your ass for you to make him a new one.

what can he say? you're besties, aren't you? that's why you made the bracelet in the first place. now chop chop, mc, his wrist feels naked.

Luke

you visit purgatory hall after school one day, a pep in your step and a bright smile on your face. a few of the brothers question your giddiness as you head out (mammon especially didn't like that you wouldn't elaborate where you were going or who you were seeing), but you make it to your destination unscathed and unfollowed.

when you walk in-- you've had an open invite to visit whenever since the early days of the exchange program-- you spot luke baking in the kitchen. he calls out to you from his spot near the oven and invites you to try this cake he's been working on. barbatos taught him the recipe last week, and ever since, he's been working hard to perfect his version of the dish.

you spend a few minutes playing taste tester for the little angel before you get his attention. you've got a gift for him. the anticipation is starting to kill you, so you'd like to get it out of your hands.

you open your palms and reveal your present: a white and gold friendship bracelet. you explain that it's usually a gift kids in the human realm give each other.

... probably the wrong wording, considering who you're giving the gift to.

"is this because you think i'm a child? now you sound like lucifer! listen here, i'll have you know i report directly to archangel michael, who--"

you let him continue his little rant until he gets it all out of his system. when he's done, looking at you expectantly for some sort of rebuttal, you grin and explain the real reason for your gift. you think of luke as a close friend, and you wanted to give him a gift familiar to your culture that communicates that with the world.

an embarrassed flush spreads over his cheeks as the cherub realizes he might have jumped to conclusions. he sheepishly smiles at you and asks you to tell him more.

you tie the bracelet onto his wrist and explain all your favorite childhood memories with gifts like these. every friendship bracelet, each matching necklace you got with a childhood friend, all of those little mementos of friendships past still sit in a box in your closet. you might outgrow wearing a yarn bracelet (or it might have grown filthy over the years with all your sticky-fingered adventures), but you'll never outgrow the memories behind them.

luke asks if he can see them some day. will you tell him more stories if he visits you at the house of lamentation? you smile and agree-- so long as he doesn't get gobbled up on the way there. now he's protesting again. he's not a child! (whatever you say, luke).

by the end of the evening, you've explained the knotting patterns you used to make the bracelet. luke tells you to watch out-- he's gonna make you such an amazing bracelet, just you wait! you grin, already excited to show off his little creation.

[solxamber]

This is quite a silly holiday event ya have there..😼 Diasomnia, 2 comedy?please and thank youu!!

Have a great dayyy!! 😸

Culinary Fear || Lilia Vanrouge

For the Holiday Event! || Theme: Baking/Cooking together ; Genre: Comedy

The kitchen is a war zone. Flour dusts every surface like freshly fallen snow, splatters of vibrant, unidentifiable liquids cover the counters, and there’s a distinct smell of burnt… something.

“Ah, doesn’t this just scream holiday cheer?” Lilia exclaims, holding up a bowl of what might once have been dough. Now, it’s a questionable neon green, with little black specks swirling ominously. “This will surely bring joy to everyone!”

You glance at the bowl and then at Lilia, who looks positively radiant with pride. “Lilia… what exactly is in that?”

“Oh, just a pinch of everything that felt festive!” He winks, sprinkling what looks like crushed candy canes into the mix. The bowl fizzes slightly. “Cooking is about creativity, my dear!”

“Cooking is also about not poisoning people,” you mutter, grabbing the bowl from him before he can add anything else to his holiday concoction of doom.

Lilia claps his hands. “Nonsense! This will be a masterpiece!”

You sigh, glancing at the tray of cookies in the oven that somehow looks worse than the raw dough. The candy cane stripes have melted into a tie-dye of neon colors, and one cookie is bubbling like a witch’s cauldron. It’s both fascinating and terrifying.

“Alright, Lilia, I’m stepping in. Let me… adjust a few things.”

“You’re doubting me?” Lilia places a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “But very well. I’ll trust your touch.”

You carefully add ingredients to salvage the taste, though there’s no saving the appearance. When the cookies finally emerge, they look like creatures from a low-budget horror movie. The colors are nightmarish, some pieces are oddly misshapen, and one even has what looks like teeth (you refuse to ask how).

Just as you’re contemplating throwing them into the Abyssal Dark for safety, Sebek marches into the kitchen.

“YOUNG MASTER DESERVES THE FINEST HOLIDAY TREATS! WHAT IS THIS AMAZING AROMA?!”

You and Lilia exchange a glance, neither saying a word.

Sebek grabs a cookie that looks like it’s staring at him and bites into it. Everyone freezes, waiting for the inevitable meltdown.

But then…

Sebek swallows, his eyes widening. “IT’S… IT’S DELICIOUS!”

Lilia’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. “I knew it!” he exclaims, puffing out his chest with pride. “My culinary instincts are unmatched!”

You cough, trying to hide your laughter. “Uh-huh. Instincts.”

Sebek takes another bite, blissfully unaware of the side-eyes Silver and Malleus are giving him as they peek into the kitchen.

Malleus steps forward cautiously, his gaze fixed on the monstrosities on the tray. “Are these… safe?”

“Oh, come now, Malleus!” Lilia laughs, shoving a cookie into the prince’s hand. “Have a little faith in your old man!”

Malleus holds the cookie like it might explode. Silver steps back, looking at you with the kind of betrayal usually reserved for war crimes.

“This is your fault,” Silver mutters under his breath.

“What?! I saved them from tasting like nightmares!” you protest, though your argument falters when you remember the teeth-cookie.

“If this is what saving looks like,” Silver deadpans, “then perhaps we were better off before.”

Malleus, to his credit, takes a dignified bite. There’s a long, ominous pause.

“…It is… acceptable,” he says finally, though he places the rest of the cookie on the counter with more care than necessary.

Lilia beams. “Success!” He grabs another mixing bowl, already tossing in a whole stick of butter, an uncracked egg, and something suspiciously green. “Shall we start the next batch?”

“Wait, wait, wait!” You rush over, attempting to wrestle the bowl from his hands. “Lilia, maybe we should, uh, celebrate the success of this batch first before we make more?”

“Nonsense!” Lilia says cheerfully. “The holidays wait for no one!”

Malleus leans closer to you, his voice low and conspiratorial. “Are you certain you are not working to eliminate my lineage through unconventional means?”

Silver sighs, rubbing his temples. “I think I’ll go on patrol.”

Sebek, meanwhile, is scarfing down his fourth cookie. “YOU SHOULD BE GRATEFUL FOR MASTER LILIA’S EFFORTS! THIS IS A GIFT!”

You stare at the chaos unfolding, caught between laughter and despair. The next batch is already forming in the mixing bowl, glowing faintly as Lilia hums a holiday tune.

This… is going to be a long day.

Masterlist

[neverending-shenanigans]

Look, I don't disagree with you, per se, but here's the thing: this is all just in theory. The game fails to show this in a meaningful way or in a way that is satisfying from an RPG point of view.

Everybody matters for the success? Cool. How so? If I literally leave them behind in the lighthouse for the rest of the game, it makes no difference.

I love Emmerich, dearly, but what exactly does he do in the Veilguard? Is the game saying the few time he talks to corpses are so vital to our success that the world is doomed without him?

None of the former games (to my knowledge) implied that not recruiting someone screwed everything over completely.

And if the game wants me to see that this is different, because the stakes are higher? Well, game, show me directly what happens if I don't recruit people, make them as vital as you claim they are. And have a number of quests where I can feel their absence if i don't have them around as the experts for necessary tasks (and I mean more than these funky little dagger mechanics or that one final battle, alright). Let me experience how much worse off everyone is if I don't help them. Or if I give them bad advice, if I make them objectively into worse people.

Tie their personal narrative more strongly to the main issue. Balance them out a little. Have Zara's blood magic be a vital part of the ritual Elgar'nan is preparing. Have Isseya actually blight a griffon or two for Ghilly and let them do some hefty damage to the Anderfels or elsewhere. Let Rivain be under siege by the Dragon King and his mind-controlled beasts. Make everyone's issues matter equally with options for real Bad Outcomes.

RPGs used to be about the consequences of my actions, about having choices with actual impact within the game narrative itself, and those were more than just one bad ending option.

This would also be a way to make sure that "these are professionals" can come across. By showing me what happens if they aren't. If we aren't - if Rook isn't.

Don't just have the narrative put up a red tape that says "you cant, because you shouldnt".

Not to mention that I frankly think it does the characters a disservice by saying that "they are professionals" somehow means that they dont have issues, they have to like you, they have to grow as people.

Bioware had a fantastic system in DA2 in the rivalry system which allowed for much more interpersonal nuances. This would have solved a lot of issues here, even if we are in a set-up in which characters will stay with you no matter what. They stay with you for the cause, but they hate you personally. How many professionals feel like that about their Boss and co-workers?How many professionals are great at exactly one thing but still assholes anyway?

And I have seen it be thrown around that "Rook cannot be an asshole because Varric wouldn't have picked them". That feels like cop-out to me. And does not make sense for narrative consistency. He is not some sort of infallible Thedas Jesus. There is precedent for him being wrong about people.

Varric recruited Hawke for his brother's expedition and Hawke had much more potential/freedom to be an ass (to the point in which Varric might end up as a drunkard for it, because Bioware used to include consequences). Varric was as much part of the disaster/tragedy/failure of Kirkwall as the rest of that crew. Varric didn't see Anders' plan coming, either. He also did not spot Solas' plan from miles away.

Varric might have picked Rook up for their moment of bravado that the game always provides, because he was running our of time to stop Solas. Nowhere does it say he might not have ended up regretting that choice a little if you turn out to be a competent ass. Wouldn't that have been a neat thing?

If we and the characters got to experience... regret?

"I wish you could be mean to the companions" it's a story about professionals

"I wish you could have a choice to not recruit companions" it's a story about every single person being vital to success

"the companions are too nice to eachother" it's a story about professionals

"rook puts out people's squabbles too easy" it's a story about a boss who actually cares and doesn't buy pizza to get people to work unpaid overtime

"I wish you could recruit a therapist for the team" based and valid

[screaminglygay]

KINKTOBER (day 2)

pairing: kate bishop x fem! reader - roleplay

summary: you and kate go to a halloween party, but your girlfreind might have taken her costume way to seriously

warning: teasing, bad flirting, overstimulation, oral (r!receiving), badly written smut, role play,

word count: 3.5k

an: heyyy! this one is a bit mess at the end, but i didnt want to let you guys without a fic, sooo i apologize in advance

You glance at Kate through the mirror, watching as she adjusts the collar of her suit jacket—she looks undeniably good. She’s wearing a dark, tailored suit with a red tie, Gomez Addams style, her hair slicked back in a way that makes her look effortlessly suave. Of course, she’s grinning at you, like she’s already plotting something mischievous.

“Looking good, Morticia,” Kate teases, her voice low and playful as she moves closer to you, her hand brushing your waist. She gives a slow, appreciative glance over your outfit, her eyes lingering a little longer than necessary. “You’re really pulling off the dark and mysterious vibe.”

You roll your eyes, trying to keep your cool despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Thanks, Gomez. You clean up pretty well yourself.”

Kate steps closer, her hand not-so-subtly sliding around your waist as she pulls you towards her. Her lips curl into a smirk. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it through this party with you looking like that.” She leans in, her voice dropping to a whisper, “You’re absolutely killing me.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you can’t help the nervous laugh that escapes you. “Kate, we’re supposed to be getting ready,” you say, your voice a little shakier than you’d like. But even as you speak, you’re leaning into her touch, letting her pull you closer. “Kate,” you mutter, trying to sound annoyed, but there’s no denying the way your pulse quickens when she’s this close.

“We are getting ready,” Kate replies, her fingers trailing along the exposed skin of your waist where your dress rides up slightly. “I’m just getting into character. You know, Gomez´s always been obsessed with Morticia.”

You swallow hard, her teasing words making your heartbeat pick up. “I think Gomez might need to work on his timing.”

Kate chuckles, her voice dark and low as she steps closer, pressing herself against you from behind. “Or maybe Morticia needs to admit she likes it when Gomez´s a little… possessive.”

Your breath hitches at her words, the warmth of her body against yours sending a thrill through you. Her soft sweet lips on your neck. You catch her gaze in the mirror, and the playful glint in her eyes is anything but innocent.

“Kate,” you say, your voice shaky now, “we’ll be late.”

Her hands slide up your waist, gripping the fabric of your dress as she pulls you closer, her touch firm but teasing. “You have no idea how hard it is for me to keep my hands off you when you look like this,” Kate mutters against your lips. “Like you’re ready to kill, and look good doing it."

“Kate…” you whine, your breath catching as her kisses become more insistent. “We’re really going to be late.”

Kate pulls back slightly, her eyes gleaming with that same mischievous energy. “Maybe,” she says, her voice low and full of promise. “Or maybe… we could be fashionably late.”

You open your mouth to protest, but the words get caught in your throat as she dips her head, pressing a soft kiss just below your ear this time. It’s slow, intentional, and it sends a rush of warmth through your entire body.

You shiver under her touch, your hands instinctively moving to her chest, trying to push her away—but not really. She knows you’re not serious about stopping her, and you know it too. Still, you manage to find your voice.

“You’re relentless,” you say, finally pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. You try to steady your breathing, but it’s hard when she’s looking at you like that.

Kate chuckles, her fingers still tracing slow circles on your waist. “Only when it comes to you.”

The way she says it, so effortlessly charming, makes your heart flutter all over again. You narrow your eyes playfully at her. “Fine, two can play this game.”

You slip out of her grasp, taking a step back and giving her your best Morticia-like smirk, complete with a slow, deliberate turn as you adjust the hem of your dress. “Gomez Addams is supposed to be obsessed with Morticia,” you say, your voice taking on a sultry tone as you turn back to face her. “And I think you’re a little too calm for someone who’s ‘obsessed.’”

Kate’s grin widens, her eyes darkening with amusement. “Oh, I can be obsessed,” she says, her voice low and smooth as she takes a step toward you. “Just wait until we get to that party. I’m not going to take my eyes or my hands off of you.”

Your pulse quickens, but you manage to hold her gaze, not backing down. “We’ll see about that,” you tease, though your breath catches slightly at the way she’s looking at you, like she’s ready to tear your clothes down.

She leans in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, “I’ll make sure you do.”

The way she says it, all confident and full of promise, sends a thrill through you. Oh how you can´t wait.

But as much as you’re enjoying this, you know you both need to finish getting ready. You let out a soft laugh, stepping back again and straightening your dress. “Okay, enough,” you say, though there’s no real firmness in your voice. “Let’s get going before we miss the party entirely.”

Kate chuckles, but she finally lets go, grabbing her jacket from the chair and slipping it on. “Fine,” she says, giving you one last playful grin. “But I’m not done with you yet, Morticia.”

You can’t help but smile as you both head for the door, knowing that tonight’s going to be full of playful teasing and flirting. And honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The engine hums softly beneath you as Kate’s car speeds down the darkened streets. The city’s Halloween decorations blur by in streaks of orange and purple, but you’re finding it hard to focus on anything outside the car. Mostly because Kate has barely taken her hand off your thigh since you left.

Her fingers, lightly tracing patterns on your leg. Every time she squeezes gently or shifts her grip, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from reacting too obviously. It doesn’t help that every few minutes, she glances over at you, smirking like she knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Are you nervous, Morticia?” she teases, her voice a low murmur as her thumb strokes the skin just above the hem of your sleek black dress.

“Nervous? No,” you reply, though your voice is a little shakier than you’d like. “But if you keep this up, we’re definitely not making it to the party in one piece.”

Kate chuckles, her eyes glinting with amusement as she looks back at the road. “I’m just driving. Innocently. Hands at ten and two.” Her fingers press into your thigh again, contradicting her words.

You narrow your eyes at her, though you’re trying to keep from smiling. “Innocent, huh? That’s the last word I’d use to describe you.”

Kate grins, her hand sliding just a little higher. “Maybe. But it’s Halloween, cara mia. We’re supposed to be a little wicked.”

This little shit. She knows what she´s doing.

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, though it quickly turns into a soft gasp as her hand tightens again, her grip firm but teasing. You squirm slightly in your seat, shooting her a glance. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you’re not telling me to stop.” You open your mouth to argue, but she’s right, and you both know it. Kate’s touch is intoxicating, and no matter how much she teases you, you’re always leaning into it. It’s a dangerous game, but it’s one you both love playing.

When you finally pull up to the party, the large building is already buzzing with life, lit up with eerie purple and green lights that give it an almost otherworldly glow. The lawn is filled with carved pumpkins, fake cobwebs, and more people in costumes.

Kate parks the car and turns to you with a sly smile. “Ready, Morticia?”

You adjust your long, flowing black dress, smirking back at her. “Always, Gomez.”

She chuckles and grabs your hand, pulling you out of the car as the two of you walk toward the entrance. Even before you step inside, all eyes seem to turn toward you both.

“Damn, you two look…,” a voice says, and you turn to see Yelena walking up with a grin on her face. She’s dressed as some kind of femme fatale assassin—very on-brand for her. “You really nailed the Addams Family aesthetic.”

“Thanks, Lena,” you reply with a smirk. “We figured we’d go for something a little more exiting this year.”

Yelena laughs, glancing between the two of you. “You did a good job at it.”

You nod with a smile as you walk further into the party. The large hall is packed with friends and some random people, all dressed up in an impressive array of costumes. You spot Natasha in a sleek black vampire ensemble, complete with blood-red lips and sharp fangs. Wanda, meanwhile, is floating around in a witch costume, her red eyeshadow giving her a haunting look.

As you make your way through the crowd, people can’t help but comment on your costumes.

“Morticia and Gomez, right?” Wanda says with a grin. “You two look hot—and kind of perfect together.”

Kate beams, slipping her arm around your waist. “Thanks, Wanda. We figured we’d lean into the whole ‘obsessed couple’ thing.”

You feel Kate’s hand resting on your hip, pulling you a little closer as she speaks, and you can’t help but blush. “Yeah, we’re definitely committed to the part,” you add with a laugh, though there’s a teasing glint in your eyes as you glance up at Kate.

“You’re not playing a part,” Natasha comments as she joins the conversation, her eyes sharp but playful. “I think you two are just obsessed with each other, and the costumes are an excuse.”

Kate grins, her hand squeezing your waist as she leans down, whispering just loud enough for you to hear, “They have no idea, princess.”

You shoot her a look, but your heart is racing, and you can’t deny the rush of excitement that comes from the way she’s holding you, the way her lips brush against your ear as she talks. You’re both teasing each other endlessly, and it’s getting harder to keep your composure. The music pulses around you as the party grows livelier, but you and Kate are in your own little world. Every time someone compliments your costumes, Kate’s hand tightens around you, or she brushes a kiss against your cheek, whispering something in your ear that sends shivers down your spine.

“You two are really committed to the creepy couple vibe,” Val remarks as she passes by with a drink in hand. “I almost can’t tell if it’s just the costumes or if you’re always like this.” She teases.

Kate grins, her hand sliding up your back as she leans in closer. “Why not both?”

You laugh, feeling the warmth of her body pressed against yours as the night goes on. People continue to compliment your look, calling you two the “perfect couple,” but all you can focus on is how Kate’s hand seems to be permanently glued to your waist, thigh, hip, her fingers teasing the edge of your dress every chance she gets.

As the music pumps through the room, and the lights flash in time with the bass, you find yourselves dancing together, completely absorbed in each other. Kate’s hands never leave your body, and every time you catch her eye, there’s that familiar spark, that tells you there is no other ending for tonight other than your clothes on the ground.

“You know,” Kate murmurs as she dips her head to kiss your neck, “I think we’re winning the contest.”

You shiver at her touch, feeling her lips graze your skin as you struggle to keep your voice steady. “There’s no contest.”

Kate laughs softly, her breath warm against your neck. "No there is not, but if it would be, we would be the winners, princess.” …

The drive home is filled with the same playful teasing that’s been bubbling between you all night. Kate’s hand, once again, finds its place on your thigh, her fingers tracing lazy patterns over the fabric of your dress.

You catch her smirk as she glances over at you, her eyes dark with intent. “You know, cara mia,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with a mix of affection and desire, “I’m not sure I’m done being Gomez just yet.”

You raise an eyebrow, though the flutter in your chest betrays your excitement. “Oh? You’re still in character?”

Her hand squeezes your thigh as she pulls into your driveway, the car’s headlights casting long shadows against the house. “Oh, absolutely,” she replies, her voice lowering to that deep, intoxicating tone she’s been using all night. “And Morticia… I haven’t even shown you just how obsessed I am yet.”

The moment you’re both inside, Kate’s hands are all over you. She peels off her jacket with a smirk, tossing it aside as she steps closer, her eyes locked on yours. There’s something darker in her gaze now—something possessive and all-consuming, like she’s fully embracing the obsession that Gomez feels for Morticia, but in her own way. Her hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against her as she leans in to whisper against your lips, “You drive me insane, Y/N. I can’t keep my hands off you. I don’t want to.”

Before you can respond, her lips are on yours, fierce and hungry. She devours you with a passion that leaves you breathless, her fingers digging into your hips as she presses you back against the nearest wall. It’s like every teasing touch, every heated glance from earlier, has been leading up to this moment, and now there’s no holding back.

“Kate…” you gasp, but she doesn’t give you a chance to say more. Her hands are already roaming, slipping under the fabric of your dress as she kisses her way down your neck.

“You have no idea how much I love you,” she growls against your skin. “How much I want you. How obsessed I am with you.”

Her words send a shiver down your spine, and you can feel the intensity radiating from her. It’s as if the line between costume and reality has blurred, and now all that matters is the way she’s holding you, touching you, worshipping every inch of you with reverence and desire.

“I’m going to show you,” she whispers, her voice thick with need. “How much you mean to me. How much I love you… how much I can’t get enough of you.”

And as her lips crash back onto yours, you realize that this isn’t just a game anymore. Kate’s obsession is real, and tonight, she’s determined to prove just how deep it runs.

Kate’s lips move with deliberate slowness, kissing her way from your mouth down to your neck, where she lingers, pressing gentle, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. You can feel her smile against you, that same obsessive, all-consuming energy radiating from her with every touch.

Suddenly your all naked in your bed, Kate on top of you. Her mouth moves lower, she takes her time, savoring each inch of your body. Her fingers brush softly along your sides as her lips trail kisses down your chest, her touch both tender and possessive, like she’s memorizing you. You shiver under her attention, your heart racing as you feel her shift lower.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” Kate murmurs, her voice thick with emotion as she looks up at you, her eyes filled with love and something deeper—something that makes you feel like you’re the center of her universe. “I’m obsessed with everything about you.”

Her lips brush across your stomach now, slow and reverent, as though she’s worshipping you with each kiss. The feeling of her mouth on your skin is overwhelming, the way she’s taking her time, drawing out each moment, leaves you breathless.

You arch slightly into her touch, the warmth of her body pressing against yours, and you can feel the love and devotion in every caress. Kate looks up at you again, her eyes dark with intensity as she whispers, “I want you to feel everything… I want you to know just how much you mean to me.”

And then she’s kissing her way lower, her lips lingering on your skin with a mix of tenderness and desire, but there’s no rush. Everything about her movements is slow, deliberate, as if she’s savoring every moment, every reaction you give her. You can feel the love in every touch, the way she’s so completely focused on you.

Every touch, every kiss, leaves you trembling, your heart racing in your chest as you feel completely surrounded by her. Kate’s devotion, her obsession, it’s overwhelming in the best possible way, and you find yourself lost in the moment, completely consumed by the way she’s making you feel.

“I love you,” she whispers again and again, her voice soft but filled with intensity as her lips return to yours, sealing the moment with a kiss that feels like both a promise and a declaration. “I’ll always love you.”

That´s where her eyes turn to black, you can see her fall into the obsessive character fully. She smirks and with last kiss to your lips, she moves back down. Eating you out like the world is ending in a minute. She is always a goddess in the bed, but tonight? Oh how you wish to have Halloween every single day.

As you try to close your legs, she immedietly pins you back down, her strong arms holding you open, so she can work on her art. Devour you as much as she can. And she is doing amazing job at it. As always.

"Oh- Kate!" You moan louder than ever.

She nods, but she doesn´t pull away like the usual, she keeps going. Smirking as you realize what is her goal.

And before you can think you´re cumming, "fuck- Kate!" you try to wiggle out of her hold, but you know it´s lost fight. Kate is holding you very strongly and she is not pulling away. Bringing your second orgasm quicker than expected. "No- no- please- god!" There is no way her mouth is skilled like this-

And you came again. And again. And again.

Time has become a blur, the edges of the night slipping away as you lose track of everything except the way Kate makes you feel. You don’t know how many times she’s brought you to the brink, only to pull you back, leaving you breathless and trembling. All you know is the warmth of her skin, the gentle press of her hands, and the overwhelming love she pours into every touch.

Finally, when the world seems to slow down, you both collapse into the soft embrace of the bed, your bodies tangled together, completely spent. The only sound in the room is the soft, steady rhythm of your breathing, punctuated by the occasional rustle of the sheets as you shift closer to each other.

Kate lies beside you, her arms wrapped around you protectively, pulling you against her chest. Her fingers trace lazy patterns on your back, her touch soothing now, a stark contrast to the intensity from earlier. Her lips find your temple, pressing soft kisses there as you both bask in the afterglow of the night.

“I’ve lost count,” you murmur, your voice a soft whisper in the dim light of the room. “How many times did you…?”

Kate chuckles, her breath warm against your skin as she kisses your cheek. “I stopped counting after the fifth,” she replies, her voice low and filled with affection. “I just wanted to make sure you knew how much I love you. How much you mean to me.”

You smile, turning your head to meet her gaze. Her eyes are soft, filled with that same obsessive devotion that’s been there all night, but now it’s gentle, almost tender. She leans in, brushing her lips against yours in a slow, lingering kiss.

“I’m serious,” she whispers when she pulls back. “You’re everything to me. You’re my fuel, Y/N. You’re the reason I get up in the morning, the reason I push myself so hard. You keep me going, more than anything else.”

You close your eyes, sinking into her words, letting them wash over you like a warm embrace. Kate’s love, her devotion, it’s overwhelming, but in the best way possible. It fills every corner of your heart, leaving no room for doubt or uncertainty.

“I love you too, Katie,” you whisper back, your voice thick with emotion. “So much.”

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it!!:)

[merakiui]

feel free to delete if this is perhaps too raunchy of an ask!! but how do u think the twst guys masturbate? do they use their hands, fleshlights/onaholes? are they loud or quiet? do they rely on their imagination or sexual material? etc etc lolol

I'm sorry that this is a bit of a sleazy question, but it has been pestering me ^^;;

Nothing is ever too sleazy when it comes to smut. <3 this ask gave me so many thoughts,,,

✧ Riddle only ever masturbates when it's absolutely necessary (i.e. he needs to de-stress and relax or it's a poorly timed erection that won't go away and he's too impatient to wait it out). Sometimes his mind wanders when he's studying. He doesn't mean for it to, but he often thinks back on the day's events when he's settling down for the evening and suddenly you pop into his mind and his brain is working overtime...... orz he uses his hand and lotion/lube and gets off to lewd thoughts in his imagination. It gets the job done. I like to imagine he's eerily quiet because he fears someone might hear him. That, and he probably learned how to do everything quietly after living so many years under his mother's roof. >_< he's biting his lip or stuffing his tie in his mouth to muffle any sounds that may slip out.

✧ Trey does it when he feels like it. All he really needs is his hand and some lotion and he's good. Sometimes he doesn't even use lotion; it really depends. I like to think Trey watches hardcore porn even though he seems like he may be into soft, sweet vanilla things on the surface. Definitely enjoys food play porn. Cater probably gifted him an onahole, and Trey uses it and imagines it's you. Does the trick every time. :) he's quiet, save for the few occasional grunts and groans.

✧ Cater absolutely watches porn. He scrolls through his favorite swimsuit models' Magicam accounts while he's moving his hand up and down along his dick. <3 sometimes he browses the selection of sex toys on his favorite online erotic stores. Although I also think he has a folder full of pictures of you and he looks through those when he's masturbating. You could be fully clothed and yet he's imagining cumming all over that cute, smiling face... depending on the day and how horny he is, he can be either loud or quiet while he's masturbating.

✧ Ace,,,, I want to preface this by saying he absolutely has a cum sock. T_T and you know he'll never tell you which one it is, so never ask to borrow socks from him for whatever reason. Sure, he washes it, but do you really want to use a sock that has been wrapped around his dick more than once in the past? ;;;;; Ace definitely watches porn. He masturbates a lot. Typical horny guy who has sex on his mind often. He's not very loud, but then he's also not very quiet either. He tends to lose himself in the sensations.

✧ Deuce tries not to masturbate all the time, but he can't help it. It's the same situation as Ace: he's a horny guy who gets worked up over the smallest things. A breeze could probably get him hard. </3 you don't know this, but the majority of his hard-ons are the result of you. He thinks of you all the time... things you say and do make him feel so hot. He uses his hand. It's impossible to use any toys in a dorm with three other roommates, and his hand makes things easy and simple. He tries to be quiet (he really does), but he grunts and breathes heavy a lot. >_<

✧ Leona's too lazy to search for porn that'll get him off, so he just sits back, shuts his eyes, and fucks into his hand at the thought of you. Ideally, it'd be much better if you were here and he could sink himself into your tight heat. Leona's a mess when he's in rut. He always tells you to keep away if you know what's good for you because even he's not sure he'd be able to restrain himself if you came into his room smelling so sweet while he's in rut. He's not very loud. Soft groans, maybe a growl here and there, but for the most part he's quiet.

✧ Ruggie does it more often than one might think. It's hard work running errands for Leona. He's got to get some stress-relief in somehow! He doesn't use anything fancy. Just his hand and some porn will do. Most of the time, though, he thinks of you. It's a little embarrassing how hard and needy he gets when he's fantasizing about you. <3 lots of whimpering and soft groans...

✧ Jack does it when he feels like it or when it's absolutely necessary. I feel like Jack often represses his horny thoughts by exercising and working out, so he doesn't masturbate often. The usual hand and lotion combination. It's bad when he's in rut, though. No logical thoughts in his brain. Just the ever-present desire to fuck and mate and breed.

✧ Azul......... my beloved darling. <3 he bought an onahole at the suggestion of a certain blue-haired board game club member and it was over for him. orz I think Azul whines a lot. He's panting like he's in heat. He gets so wrapped up in his fantasies. I don't think he's an avid porn watcher, but then this is because he's picky and has very specific tastes (it's you. you're the specific tastes). In merform, he uses one of those full body onaholes and pretends it's you. One tentacle wrapped around the silicone waist and bouncing it on his hectocotylus. He's definitely broken more than one sex toy LOL. Accidentally filled one of his onaholes with eggs and was so frustrated that it wasn't you. :(

✧ Jade is a menace (part one) because he's a Shameless Freak who is too curious for his own good. Instead of a cum sock, he probably has a jar. He makes it a fun game to see how much he can fill within a certain amount of time lol. Jade's sex fantasies are CRAZY. Sometimes he gets off to porn; sometimes his thoughts are enough to have him cumming into a tissue or his hand (or the jar). He's definitely more quiet than he is loud. In merform, anything goes. Jade's gotten great practice fingering his slit, so he'll use this expertise on you when the two of you finally fuck.

✧ Floyd is a menace (part two) because he does it all. Uses spit, lube, lotion, blood????? It doesn't matter how clean or viable it is; he wants to try it. He's messy with it. Probably has a cum sock as well. Human sex toys are so fascinating to him, so he's willing to sample it all. Whatever catches his interest, really. Most days if he's feeling something quick he'll just use his hand and look at things on his phone. Definitely has vocal range when he's masturbating. Some days he's loud and other days he's quiet. Like the above, Floyd's also down to do anything and everything in merform. You should 100% eat him out when he's in merform. Quickest way to have the eel wrapped around you (literally and figuratively).

✧ Kalim does it whenever he feels like it! He's also curious and wants to try all manner of things. He used an onahole once and was hooked. It's just so great. <3 he's even named it after you. T_T I think Kalim's louder than most when he really gets into it, but other than that he can be quiet sometimes. Not always, though. He throws his head back and gasps a lot when he's on the verge of cumming, eyes squeezed shut as he succumbs.

✧ Jamil does it when he has time. </3 his schedule tends to get busy when he's looking after Kalim, balancing his own life, studying, club stuff....... I like to imagine Jamil gets horny so easily and quite often, but he's the repressed type of horny because he never has enough time for himself!!! When he does masturbate, it's usually just with his hand. He hardly makes any noise, save for the occasional groan or pleasured hum.

✧ Vil does it whenever he's in the mood. It's healthy for the mind and body to masturbate every now and then, so it's not like he's against a little self-care time. <3 he probably sets aside time for it on the days when he knows he'll need some stress relief. Sometimes these things can't be planned for, so a little spontaneity is okay. I feel like Vil doesn't get too complicated with it (that's saved for when he's with you hehe), so he probably just uses his hand. If he's using any sort of toys, he makes sure the material is safe and won't hurt him or his skin. He's also very picky when it comes to toys and other products like lube and lotion. Most days his hand is enough. I think he's the type to gasp. Maybe a low moan here and there. In any case, all of his sounds always sound so beautifully debauched.

✧ Rook......... it goes without saying he does it whenever he wants and can get off to anything and everything. orz especially candid pictures of you!!!! I think he's also a type who is willing to try all kinds of things. He prefers the sensuality of skin to skin contact, so he's more than fine with using just his hand. "As nature intended," he'll probably say. T_T Rook is a hunter who is always so eerily quiet and stealthy. I like to think it's much the same when he's masturbating. Mostly quiet, save for the occasional sound every now and then.

✧ Epel also falls into the category of Ace and Deuce. He's a little sex-brained sometimes. >_< but can you blame him? There was hardly anyone else in Harveston his age and now he's at NRC and you're there and he's just,,,, down horrendous. I feel like he tries so hard to sound "manly" or more mature, but the truth is that he whimpers and whines like he's in heat when he gets really into it. Mainly uses his hand, but I think he'd be curious and buy an onahole for himself.

✧ Idia.......... T_T this one is already self-explanatory, but he's using his hand, lube/lotion, an onahole based on his favorite anime girl, etc. He watches hentai and reads r18 doujinshi of his favorite series. He's probably one of the few twst characters who does it so frequently. Lots of pent-up horny. OTL if you're chatting with him online, he jerks off to your messages. He keeps clips of your voice from the times you VC in Magicord and he replays them while he's fucking the onahole like he intends to knock it up. ^^;;; I think he whines a lot, but then maybe he's good at being mostly quiet when he's masturbating. Either way, he's left breathless every time.

✧ Malleus didn't even know pornographic imagery and videos on cellphones existed, so his idea of porn is probably a tasteful nude painting. Imagine the Renaissance nudes, but Malleus's probably commissioned someone to paint you like that. He's so sexually awkward, so an exposed ankle or shoulder or even an outfit that looks so wonderful on you could get him worked up. ;;;;;; he probably uses his hand, but sometimes he ruts into his pillows/sheets. orz he groans a lot. He definitely visits you post-masturbation and greets you as if he wasn't just picturing you beneath him, writhing and sobbing in pleasure. Post-nut clarity for Malleus is just him realizing you'd be much better than his hand or bedsheets.

✧ Lilia uses and does it all. He loves experimenting. He's always curious and willing to try everything once. At this point the question is: what hasn't he done? Sometimes he's quiet and sometimes he's loud. Sometimes he watches hentai (as per his online friend's recommendations) and sometimes he uses his imagination. He's always finding ways to try new things. Although lately he's enjoyed using your mouth. <3

✧ Silver does it when he's feeling up for it. I imagine he doesn't get horny very often, but when he does......... 👀 he just uses his hand and nothing else, but I'm sure he's heard from others how good certain things are. Silver's so genuinely honest, so I feel like he'd want to know if there's any merit to an onahole versus an actual hole (your hole). Something to try in the future perhaps... I think he can be quiet, but then I also imagine he groans softly a lot!!!

✧ Sebek....... he tries not to, but the horny always catches up to him. He does it more often than you'd think, but he refuses to use anything other than his hand. He's stubborn! Definitely makes a lot of noise and he doesn't even realize it.

✧ Rollo didn't do it much (only when it was a necessity), but after meeting you that changes. He goes from going weeks without touching himself to doing it nearly every other day. You make him feel so insatiably horny. He usually just relies on his imagination, but sometimes I like to picture him reading erotic literature. >:D he definitely relies on his hand and lotion/lube, and he's also another one who is scarily quiet.

✧ Neige does it fairly often! He likes using his hand, but then he also likes using an onahole. He's so obsessed with you to the point where I think you'd be the only thing that can get him properly worked up. He cums to thoughts of you, to pictures of you, to the sound of your voice, to the smell of you, to your clothes... he's so cute,,, definitely the type to whine and be noisy if he's really feeling good.

✧ Che'nya also does it often! He's a curious cat, so he'll want to try all kinds of things. He does it all. His ability to turn invisible makes him great for watching you during private times or secretly groping you in a crowded place and you're completely unaware of his presence hehe. He's also got a vocal range, and it really depends. Sometimes he can be so quiet, and other times he's so loud you think he's in heat.

✧ Fellow....... tell me you can see the vision: room dimly lit by candlelight or something and Fellow's leaning back against the headboard of his bed and he's slowly running his hand along the length of his lubed up cock. Slow and steady, dragging it out, edging himself to thoughts of you! >:D I feel like this is one of his favorite ways to masturbate. He has time. <3 why rush? He's not as loud as you may think. When he's alone, he probably gasps and groans a lot. The type to squeeze his eyes shut and bow his head when he's on the verge of cumming.

[authorhjk1]

Lewd thought of snsd otp 9 with mommy femdom kinks please

Taeyeon

Taeyeon is a gentle mommy. As long as you do your best to satisfy her, there aren't really any downsides to it. She can get a bit demanding sometimes, but she cares about you as well. She makes sure that you cum inside, everytime she fucks you. When she only lets you eat her pussy, she always gives positive encouragement, sometimes a compliment here and there. Taeyeon doesn't like to punish you, but when she feels it's necessary, be prepared for her to ride and drain you, until you're a whimpering mess, unable to move, while she keeps going.

Jessica

Jessica is similar to Taeyeon. Or at least that's what she wants you to think. She gaslights you into believing all sorts of stuff. As long as you satisfy her, she won't be mad. And she always tells you it feels way better when she has an orgasm. For the both of you. Your release isn't as important. Whenever Jessica just uses you, until you break, she cups your cheek with one hand, while she rides you, her tone soothing and caring.

Sunny

"Don't listen to your mind, baby. You can take more, trust me. Just make mommy cum and you'll know how good it really can feel."

While Sunny acts cold most of the time, she still like to be worshipped. She enjoys it so much, when you start to beg for sex. She makes you wait, until she herself can't hold back anymore. But once she starts, everyone will see whom you belong to. The day after, your neck, is marked with hickies. Your cheek is still slightly red from where she slapped you a little too hard. And your lip finally stopped bleeding after she bit down on it too hard, while she was climaxing.

Sunny liked to use you and she doesn't really care if she brakes you in the process.

Tiffany

Despite popular belief, Tiffany isn't soft or caring at all. She always looks sweet and innocent, not able to hurt a fly. And often, you're the one in charge in and outside the bedroom. But when Tiffany comes back home after traveling, or when another woman looks at you a little too long, she turns bad. She keeps you awake the whole night, reminding you of whom you really belong to. Tiffany often likes to tie you up. To the bedposts, or the table, or the chair. And then she rides you, plays with you, hurts you, until only her name leaves your lips.

Hyoyeon

Hyoyeon likes to toy with you, when you're blind. A blindfold, a tie, or even just putting a pillow on your face. Whatever it is that makes you vulnerable. You flinch whenever she suddenly touches you, not knowing what's going to happen next. Sometimes she just lets her fingers roam your body, or she uses ice cubes. Occasionally she even uses candles. Everytime she puts something over your eyes, your as excited as you're scared. She might suck your cock in one moment and let hot wax fall on your naked skin in the next.

Yuri

Yuri likes to watch you. She makes you sit on the bed, while she sits in a chair in front of you.

"Cum for me."

She would look at you with a cold gaze, watching how you admire her fully clothed body. You're not aloud to see her naked yet. When you finally cum, chest heaving heavily, Yuri stands up. She walks up to you and sits down on the edge of the bed.

"Again."

She makes you cum, until she is satisfied. Once you're completely drained, she strips in front of you.

"Now, make me cum as often as you just came."

Sooyoung

Sooyoung likes to put you in your place. Usually with words, even in public. But with with actions as well. Sometimes it's just something casual. When the two of you leave a restaurant: "Let's go, boy toy." Or when she is horny in the morning and already straddled you, before you're even fully awake: "Good morning, hot stuff."

But Sooyoung likes to make use of the saying "actions speak louder than words". That's why calling you names isn't enough for her. Sooyoung is a squirter. And she loves to cum all over your face, showing you that you're hers and your place is at her pussy, eating her out, until her juices drench your face.

Yoona

Yoona can switch it up really fast. One moment she is loving and caring. And the next she wraps her hands around your throat, ordering you to make her cum right then, on the spot. And there is no middle ground either. She likes it when you get a little rough too, but usually, you pay the price for that later.

Most of your days start with gentle kisses. A smile here, a laugh there. And then Yoona rolls herself on top of you. Giving you even more kisses. Eventually she reaches your crotch. Your eyes fall shut again, when she works your cock. But before you can cum, Yoona is suddenly sitting on top of you. Both hands on your throat as she lowers herself onto you.

"Be a good toy. Don't cum until I give you permission."

Seohyun

Seohyun likes to show you off, while acting cute and innocent and loving in public. Whenever someone points out a hicky, she acts all shy, embarrassed that someone might think she isn't all that innocent.

But as soon as the two of you are alone, Seohyun let's go of the good girl facade. She tells you how it turns her on that people think she is innocent, but in reality, she is making you scream her name every day. In public, she always gives you the sweetest smiles. And in the bedroom, her smiles are dark and drenched with lust.

[nocturnowlette]

Most's view of hypnotic triggers is rather limited.

In general, when people do not understand how something works, they will imitate those who did it before them and ultimately give importance and distinctions to things that are arbitrary.

A hypnotic trigger, just like any psychological trigger, is an A, a stimulus, that causes B, a recalled stimulus. Neither A nor B need to be reinforced but are useful to do, most especially B.

Triggers are also not stronger than regular suggestion, they are just more convenient and more compressed. You create a concept in someone's head, a Thing, and associate effects, ideas, and feelings with it, so you can then have someone recall all of those effects, ideas, and feelings without needing to completely re-explain it. It is not unlike learning any other concept and its meaning. You are creating a new definition for what some stimulus means.

You could generate the same effects, if not stronger ones, without a trigger, but condensing it all into one moment is inherently useful and can lead to a myriad of possibilities, which can ultimately add up to more than the sum of their parts. Time and timing is important in hypnosis, and triggers save it.

While the "B", the effect, does not need to be conditioned (for any subject a somewhat competent hypnotist has any experience with, you should be able to prime the A and B with a single sentence and have it work at least moderately well), it is much more useful to condition it deeply. Triggers do not really atrophy if someone did an even somewhat passable job of conditioning, but it does need to be refreshed before use via priming and evoking the necessary ideas in the subject's mind.

The more the subject's mind needs to work to interpret something you've said, the more they will be taken out of that state where they're being guided. If the first time you use it in months isn't set up and as such doesn't work as well as it used to because of the need to process it, the subject will be convinced it doesn't work as well, and then it will actually have lessened effects due to the perception.

As for the "A", the trigger phrase, it is hardly necessary to actually have a deeply installed one outside of the effects of expectation and general structure you operate your subjects with. I even have a test to demonstrate exactly this, for experienced subjects only.

Trance itself is a conditioned idea that is then triggered. An experienced subject has the concept of Trance in their head: its effects, its ideas, and its feelings. It is always a limited conception of what trance is, but it is the reference point for what hypnosis is to someone. Most times, when a drop trigger or a fast sink into trance is done in any way, the subject is effectively triggering themselves with a stimulus A to reach the generalized stimulus B of trance itself. Memory recall is what brings someone down, and it does not require a traditional trigger to work.

If you are an experienced subject, I want you to try something for me. This is called the Orange Test. Ready?

Oranges are hypnotic now.

Think of an Orange.

If you have begun to find yourself sinking into a light to moderate trance, you may realize how utterly arbitrary all of this is. Your mind knows what trance feels like, and some magic ritual of the right words is not what is needed to access it.

Oranges are no longer hypnotic, in fact, they wake you up. Think of an orange again.

The thing is, you don't even need to tie it to any concept in particular.

Just remember what trance feels like. Focus on the idea. You might find that you can go into trance all on your own, skipping the line from A to B through initiating memory recall yourself.

This principle of memory recall is generally why I do not use drop triggers or anything a person has pre-installed. These fictional misunderstood boundaries the hypnosis community makes up have a self-perpetuating nature, one where someone being convinced of them creates a "pass or fail" state in their brain.

If you don't follow these correctly, you are doing hypnosis "wrong", and they are taken out of trance. It is why the first thing I do is educate someone, and why the second is to softly take down every barrier they have. Beyond that point, their mind is a fresh canvas, and not one with the lines painted for me by those who believe that canvases just come that way.

[opultea]

Reasons to Keep a Spare Hairtie

Gaming x Gender Neutral Reader

No pronouns - Romantic - Drabble - Fluff

Word Count: 550

“Aw, man!”

You turn, curious and surprised. Gaming hardly ever acted so down. As you turn on your heel, you can’t help the puff of laughter that escapes your lips at the sight of his usually neatly tied hair covering his face.

“Trying something new?” You tease, approaching to inspect the issue. Gaming blows air through his lips, lifting a brown tuft from his face momentarily.

“Ha ha,” He laughs dryly, before giggling sincerely. “My hair tie broke. And of course I left my headband at home today, so I guess I’ll just have to make do,”

You hum in consideration, secretly taking a moment to admire the way his hair drapes over his shoulders and forehead when down. Although, you did miss seeing the red undertone that was made visible by his usual style.

Watching Gaming try to tuck the fluffy hair behind his ears felt like watching a puppy try to find its way out of a big blanket. Cute, but very much making you feel obligated to help. Each time he managed to clear his face, the fluffy stands would pop back in front of him within seconds.

“Turn around,” you say warmly, tracing a loop with your forefinger to indicate the motion. Gaming stares at you for a moment, evidently wondering what for. However, it doesn’t take another second before he relinquishes control, turning so his back is to you.

You push his shoulder lightly until he sits down on the stone ledge under him. Gently, you scoop the soft brown hair from around his neck and face and pull it back into a ponytail.

Your fingers don’t linger long enough to feel the heat that erupts from his cheeks.

“You’re lucky I have a spare hair tie on me. With how fluffy your hair is, you’d look like a lion by the end of the day,”

“Yeah, lucky,” the dreamy quality in his voice catches you off guard. Promptly, you distract yourself from the skip of your heart with the task at hand.

You find your hands slowing more than necessary, and you take your time brushing your fingers through the fine strands of his hair. Briefly, you wonder what his hair might smell like. You scold the thought before you bury it.

You step around to face him once you let yourself finish, smiling as you admire your handiwork.

"There, now you can see, and you don't look like a mop," Gaming chuckles and rubs the back of his neck bashfully at your joking.

"Wow, thanks! It feels pretty good, and I bet it looks way better than what I do for my day-to-day," He carefully feels around his head to appreciate your work. "Hey, let me treat you to dim sum! As payment for your expert styling skills,"

"Gaming, you've paid for my dim sum the last three times, just let me pay already!" You try to argue as you follow him but know it's practically useless.

"Nope! You worked hard and you deserve a reward!" He's started into a light jog now, and you know that if you let him get ahead, he'll order and pay before you even arrive at the restaurant.

Speeding up, you feel a smile lift with the butterflies in your stomach, and as you run after the beaming lion boy, you can't help but wonder if he feels the same.

[angelicwrites]

focus | logan howlett

summary. under logan's intense and unconventional training, you struggle to overcome repeated mistakes in the boxing ring. with his commanding presence and sharp guidance, he pushes you to your limits, forcing you to confront both your flaws and the magnetic tension between you pairings. logan howlett x fem!reader genre. smut (MDNI 18+), dom!logan x sub!reader, porn w little plot warnings. fingering (f receiving), teasing, overstimulation

a/n. first logan smut, please show some love & feebacks !

“you keep dropping your guard,” he says, his voice calm but firm. “are you even paying attention, or are you thinking about what you’re having for dinner?”

“i am paying attention,” you snap, glaring at him. you adjust your gloves, your hands trembling slightly from fatigue. “maybe if you didn’t sound like such a jerk all the time, i’d actually—”

“a jerk?” logan cuts you off with a low laugh as he steps into the ring. he towers over you, his presence impossible to ignore. “yeah, i’m a jerk. but i’m also the jerk keeping you from getting knocked out.” he closes the distance between you, his hand catching your wrist. his touch is firm, deliberate, as he raises your arm back into position.

“hold it like this,” he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave. his fingers linger against your skin, rough and warm. “you keep leaving this side wide open, and someone’s gonna take you out. maybe even me.”

“you wouldn’t,” you challenge, trying to ignore the way his closeness makes your pulse race.

“you think i’d go easy on you just because you look cute when you’re mad?” his smirk widens as he steps back, putting space between you that feels both a relief and a tease. “you better hope i don’t.”

you bite your lip, narrowing your eyes. “just tell me what to do.”

logan tilts his head, watching you for a moment that stretches too long. then, in one swift motion, he’s behind you, his hands settling lightly on your hips.

“your stance is all wrong,” he says, his voice low and close to your ear. “spread your feet. balance your weight.” his hands guide you, his movements steady but uncomfortably intimate.

“is this really necessary?” you ask, your voice betraying the slightest waver.

“if it wasn’t, i wouldn’t be doing it,” he murmurs, his breath brushing against your neck. “besides, you’re the one who said i’m a jerk. might as well live up to it, huh?”

you twist your head to glare at him, but the smirk on his face only deepens. “focus,” he adds, stepping away before you can come up with a retort. “again.”

you try again, throwing a jab just like he showed you, but your form falters halfway through. logan's hand shoots out, effortlessly blocking your attempt. the sharp slap of his glove against yours echoes in the gym, followed by his exasperated sigh.

"again," he says, his tone clipped.

you try, and fail.

"you’re not even thinking about your footing," he mutters, his patience clearly wearing thin. you feel the burn of embarrassment creep up your neck, but his scrutiny doesn’t let up.

another attempt. another mistake.

logan steps forward, his hand catching your wrist mid-punch, and this time he doesn’t hide his frustration. his dark eyes lock onto yours, his voice dropping into a calm but commanding tone that sends a shiver down your spine.

"you keep making the same mistakes," he says, his words resonating in the now-quiet gym. "and it's time we fix that. i’ve got a special training session planned for you today, something to help you focus and learn from your errors."

the way he says it makes your stomach twist, half from nerves, half from the magnetic pull of his intensity. whatever he’s planning, you know it’s not going to be easy. but with the way he’s looking at you, like he won’t take no for an answer, you nod. "okay," you say softly. "what do i have to do?"

"i’m going to tie you up, restrain your movements, and then we'll begin," he explained, his voice low and gravelly. "this will teach you discipline and help you understand the consequences of your mistakes."

your breath caught in your throat as logan produced a length of silk rope from his bag. the soft fabric felt sensual against your skin as he gently guided you to the corner of the ring. you shivered as he secured your wrists above your head, tying the rope tightly, ensuring you couldn't move your arms.

"there," he said, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "now, let's see how well you can focus with this little distraction."

logan's fingers trailed down your arms, sending tingles through your body. he leaned in close, his warm breath caressing your ear. "i'm going to edge you, y/n. tease you until you're begging for release. and when you're on the brink of ecstasy, we'll talk about your mistakes."

a gasp escaped your lips as Logan's hand cupped your breast, his thumb brushing lightly over your hardened nipple. you were already sensitive, and his touch sent sparks of pleasure through your body. he knew exactly how to play with your desires, using your own body against you.

"you like that, don't you?" he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "i can see your nipples getting harder, begging for attention. but we're not going to give them what they want just yet."

logan's hand moved lower, his fingers gently stroking your inner thighs. he avoided your core, instead focusing on the sensitive skin surrounding it, making you squirm with anticipation. you tried to move your hips, to seek the friction you craved, but the restraints held you firmly in place.

"please, logan," you pleaded, your voice hoarse with need. "i need more. i'll do anything to make you let me cum."

he chuckled, the sound sending a thrill down your spine. "anything, huh? well, let's see how committed you are to improving your skills. tell me, what mistakes have you been making lately?"

your mind struggled to focus as logan's fingers continued their teasing dance, drawing circles around your clit without actually touching it. you wanted to beg him to stop, but you also craved more of his touch.

"i-i've been forgetting to keep my guard up," you stammered, the words tumbling out between gasps. "and i keep leaving myself open for counterattacks."

"good girl, that's a start," logan praised, his fingers finally making contact with your throbbing clit. "now, what will you do to fix that?"

the pleasure was almost unbearable as he rubbed slow circles around your sensitive bundle of nerves. you arched your back, seeking more friction, but logan maintained a steady, teasing pace.

"i'll... i'll focus on keeping my arms up," you managed to say, your voice strained. "and i’ll practice my footwork to avoid those counters."

"excellent," logan murmured, his breath hot against your neck. "you're learning already. now, let's see if you can keep this focus while i take you to the edge."

with that, he slid a finger inside your wet folds, eliciting a moan from your lips. logan's touch was firm and deliberate, his finger thrusting in and out, hitting all the right spots. you were dripping with desire, your body craving release.

"oh logan, please," you begged, your hips thrusting involuntarily against his hand. "i'm so close. please let me cum."

he slowed his movements, torturously drawing out your pleasure. "not yet, y/n. not until you promise me you'll try harder. i want to hear you say it."

the teasing was exquisite agony. logan's finger continued to stroke you, bringing you to the brink of orgasm only to pull back just enough to keep you on the edge. tears of frustration and pleasure welled up in your eyes.

"i promise, logan," you whispered, your voice shaking. "i'll try harder. i’ll focus on my technique and practice every day."

logan's finger sped up, thrusting into you with renewed vigor. "that's my good girl. now, let go and cum for me."

the release was explosive. your body shook with the force of your orgasm, and you cried out, your voice echoing in the empty gym.

logan held you through the waves of pleasure, his strong arms supporting your trembling body.

"that's it y/n," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "let it all out. you've earned this release."

as your orgasm subsided, logan gently untied your wrists, his touch tender and caring. he helped you stand, your legs feeling like jelly after the intense experience.

"you did well today," he said, his eyes filled with pride. "remember this feeling, and use it to fuel your training. we'll continue with this method until you've mastered your mistakes."

you nodded, your body still buzzing with post-orgasmic bliss. logan's unconventional training method had certainly left its mark, and you knew you'd never forget the lessons learned in that boxing ring.

logan will appear in your room if u like/reblog/comment !

masterlist

©angelicwrites on tumblr

[obsessedwrhys]

Hi!!! could you make a headcanon of valen with fem merlin please? I've been searching and there's almost nothing ;; thank you also for making the headcanons of other characters ♡

|| VALEN DATING HEADCANONS ||

ᯓ★ just lots of fluff, reader is fem!! (I'm glad you like my other work ☺)

Despite his good looks and the rumours told by the villagers, he's actually inexperienced with love. He's constantly busy with his duties so he never really felt it was necessary to be in a relationship.

That was when he met you and oh boy did he fall head over heels for you HARD.

At first he didn't think much of it and simply just saw it as a task by Hogan to protect you, but the more you guys spent time together, the more he enjoys being by your side.

He was in denial the moment he realised he had developed feelings for you but he also couldn't deny what his heart wanted. So eventually he just chose to go with the flow.

His behaviour wouldn't change drastically but he does seem to develop a few traits when he came to the conclusion that he had a crush on you.

His eyes would linger on you longer when the group discusses on a topic, his brows relaxed as he's giving you the heart eyes.

And how he was always the first person to check up on you after every battles, making sure you weren't hurt anywhere.

He would also notice little details about you. How you seem to rub your arms when you're awkward or play with your hair when you're bored.

There was this one time he noticed you shivering a bit on the cold night so he offered you his cloak/cape, you thanked him which made his heart swoon but his face hid it with a simple smile.

When your group made it back to Holistone after your eventful journey, he was quick to treat everyone with drinks. It was there where he confessed to you.

Scenario ↴

Everyone had left to chat with their friends and he found you drinking alone at your table. With the opportunity in his hand, he slide into the empty seat beside you.

"You're alone, where are your chipmunk friends?" He'd ask with his arm rested on the chair and the other on the table.

"They left to check out the market" You'd say with both your hands wrapped around your glass.

He eyes your face for a while as he tries to think of the right words to say. He gulps but tried to cover it up by pretending to clear his throat.

"I uh—"

"Your face is red"

"Huh?" His eyes widened, but when he realised there was no way out, he ended up relaxing his face with a defeated sigh.

"I guess nothing bypasses the magister. Not even a knight's feelings..." He'd smile warmly at you when it was your turn to be flustered.

The second you guys started dating, it was huge news to the villagers. They were curious how you managed to catch his eye when all of the women have been trying their hardest to get his acknowledgement.

Some even made up rumours that you might have used a love spell on him.

Throughout the relationship, Valen would definitely be affectionate. Expect lots of flirting and corny jokes.

"You’re so beautiful that you made me forget my pickup line"

"Valen go to sleep..."

He's also very open with PDA, nothing too extreme though, just simple things like holding hands and kisses on the cheek or forehead. He just loves to see you smile.

I have a feeling that since you two are dating, it would be easier for Valen to figure out you were Merlin. He wouldn't be mad that you hid it from him but rather he understood your reasons for it. Also, he wouldn't say anything about it until your secret was revealed by Mirael.

He'd just stand there with his hand on the handle of his sword, completely unfazed because what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn't know that first??

Once your secret was out, expect him to ask lots of questions about your magic.

Like can you give a cat wings?

How does it work?

Could you make him 1 inch taller?

The first time he saw you use your magic outside of battles was when you used it to tie your hair. It baffled him but he had to admit it was fun to watch.

Thats why he would always stare at you all excited whenever you used your magic to do simple tasks. His excuse for his behaviour being "How can I not watch when you look so effortlessly gorgeous 😚"

His petname for you is Dove and this is a headcanon I will defend with all my heart.

He picked the name because he always found doves romantic, the name was easily decided the second you brought love into his life.

I just have a feeling his kisses are playful most of the time but when he's really serious, it'd be the most breathtaking kisses you could ever experience. His hand will always find its place behind your back when you two share the moment.

He definitely adores it when you kiss him too, especially on his cheek where his scar is. He also likes it when you trace your fingers across it because it always help him relax. Your gentle touch soothing his soul from a bad memory.

One more thing. He becomes more protective over you. Not in a bad way though, he knows you can defend yourself with your magic but that doesn't mean he's not gonna try to protect you from the enemy.

He doesn't care if the person is bigger or stronger than him, he'll still draw his sword.

After every fight, you'd always tend to his wounds and even through your complaints at his recklessness, he'd still look at you with genuine love in his gaze.

"You're such an idiot"

"A charming one right?"

He shows you off A LOT. I'm talking like crazy lot. Every conversation he shared with anyone, he's always gonna talk about you several times. It drives Hogan crazy, don't get me wrong, he's happy for you two but he can't seem to get his lovesick head to function.

I make him sound like he's crazy about you (which he kinda is) but it's just he's really proud of you. He's so very supportive of you!! He might even have Chippy and Hammie beat at being your number one fan.

Like hello??? My girlfriend is saving the world here 🙄

Of course, he's a very understanding person. If there's anything you're uncomfortable with, just talk it out with him and he'll make sure it won't happen again.

Now for dates. He likes to take you to the most prettiest spot of Holistone or any places he knows. You guys would just spend time chit chatting or cuddling.

Your personal favourite was when he had managed to plan a picnic for you two on a hill, it was adorable watching him cut the food into smaller slices and then feeding you, it was his way of giving you the princess treatment.

Well he is a knight and it is his duty.

Since he's very affectionate, he can also be a tease. He likes teasing the height difference between you two. He finds it adorable.

"You're so small. Are you sure you're as the myth foretold? The mighty merlin? So cute..." He'd stroke your hair with a smile.

I feel like he'd teach you some skills to defend yourself just in case. He knows your magic is powerful but he's not gonna risk it, not when it comes to you.

The lessons would mostly be basic hand-to-hand combat. There was this one time you managed to beat him in a friendly duel and even though he was going easy on you, he was still proud of you regardless so he showered you with compliments.

Another thing I'd like to add is that he secretly write poems dedicated to you. He's too embarrassed to share them with you so if you ever found out, he thinks he'll actually dig a hole and bury himself alive. He'll only share ONE poem with you once he finishes rereading it for the 19373th time and making sure it's good.

By the way, this man can get jealous. He doesn't like seeing Lorsan get too close to you. Half of the times he'd actually cross his arms without even realising when watching you two talk. You always laugh at his behaviour which he does not appreciate.

"What are you laughing at? I don't see anything funny about it..."

Also did I mention how he smells like white musk?? You know like those scents that you smell and you just feel so in love??? Yeah that.

Honestly... 100/10 BOYFRIEND!!

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [BEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN] ❞

request by lovely detailing anon pairing: spencer reid x reader. summary: a date for your brother's wedding brings you more than you could ever hope for. content warnings: i think none, but feel free to tell me! very fluffy stuff ahead though. word count: 1,1k+

the first thing you told your mother when she began yapping about how you needed a date for the wedding was that she didn't need to worry, you got your girls! surely one of them would have an eligible bachelor to accompany you. you had the girls from work, two from college and even your sister-in-law could definitely help you out without the obnoxious interference of your mother.

sadly enough, as the ceremony got closer and closer the more spectacularly did the blind dates fail you. you insisted with the bau girls you did not want anyone from the bureau, emily tried with an old friend who worked in politics. completely boring and in severe need of a model trophy wife his parents approved of.

pen tried to set you up with some guy she met doing theater, he was fascinated by your job. too fascinated, like you were some character of a play that he needed to analyze, and if that wasn't bad enough, the ones you were set up by your civilian girls weren't any better, they were in fact worse. trembling the moment you told them you were an agent.

"i'm going alone, won't tell my mom that though." you finish the conversation leaving the reports from the last case on your desk. i'ts saturday morning and fortunately, you were back in time for your brother's wedding, no chance to skip it and blame it on work for this and already running back to the elevator, asking spencer to hold the doors for you.

"i can be your date, for the wedding, i mean." his voice sounds almost nonchalant, if not for a bit higher in pitch. you feel your face warm up at the idea, surely if you had enough courage in your personal life as you showed in the field, you would've asked him months before, but apparently fate was on your side.

"really? i don't want to disturb you, i—" you shake your head softly, trying to be less avoidant, you wanted him to go, he offered to go. "i would really like that, actually."

"i'm happy to. this way you're at least guaranteed someone who isn't afraid of fbi female agents." the way his shoulders shrug up and his nose moves in a soft crunch makes your heart swell. "historically bridesmaids were to dress the same as the bride to deceive evil spirits—" he's interrupted by the elevator doors opening, but you both keep the same pace as you leave the building, wanting to keep talking to each other. "though surely you won't be dressing in white, what color are you wearing should i match my tie to it?"

"that's very thoughtful, spen." too thoughtful even, you might just swoon if you don't control yourself. "it's black tie required for bridal party dates actually, is that okay?"

"i can arrange that." even if he didn't have a black tie attire at home already, which he did, spencer would rent one if he had to, he wouldn't be happy about it, but he would do whatever necessary.

his eyes glance from your dress to your fidgeting fingers a few times before speaking up. "you're nervous." he knows that's not the first thing he should be saying after seeing you all dressed up, but he can't help it.

"oh—sorry, i'm just worried about my family meeting you." you didn't even think about your choice of words, not paying attention to the way it made spencer flinch, his smile falling instantly.

"do you want me to be less... me? i can try." eyes widened up, you shake your head quickly, hands going to his chest in what you believed was a comforting manner.

"i want them to be less... them. you're great, perfect even. they can be kind of rude, that's all." perfect even. his smile quickly comes back to his face, placing his own hands over yours with a squeeze.

"unrelated but, you look great, perfect even." his repeating of your words makes you laugh, spinning around to show him the full look before thanking him. he looks stunning, dashing even, but you feel like the way your eyes can't look away from him for long might show him that.

you were right to be worried about your family, a bunch of drunk alpha males who didn't believe the work you did in the fbi weren't the most friendly bunch to spencer, but he had his fun responding to their jabs with knowledge and sarcasm, checking your reactions every time and always getting a laugh in response.

your mother seemed to like him though, saying you two were a great match, which you tried to deny, shrug it off since you two were just friends and you somehow knew your mom would like anyone you took as long as you didn't show up alone again to a family event.

as he held you close to dance, spinning you around and making you dizzy from all the champagne, and as his hands stopped at your hips to look at you, you wished to yourself you truly were a great match, and that he felt it as much as you, and the saw it as much your family saw it.

by the end of the night he was the one holding your heels, your bag and your scarf while calling a taxi to the venue to pick you both up. happily laying your head on his shoulder the whole way back to your apartment.

spencer had to accompany you back into your place, he wasn't about to leave you by the building's entrance or the elevator, it was only reasonable to help you all the way through.

for you, it was only reasonable to ask him to spend the night, your couch was comfortable enough especially after a whole night of dancing and walking around trying to keep up with you. it was only reasonable for him to accept it.

"hey spen..." you had gone to your bedroom to find anything comfortable for him to wear, coming back only minutes later, still dressed up. "thanks for today, i had a great time." you say handing him the pijama bottoms you thought could fit him.

"i always have a great time with you." his hands brush lightly against yours and you feel a shiver down your spine, gluing your eyes to his in hopes he felt it too.

in a second he's placing his hands on your neck, kissing you with lust of at least months of yearning, taking your breath away and making you enjoy the lack of oxygen and control. you don't even have to think about reciprocating it, no hesitance, like you have been always at the ready for it and you bite his lower lip the second he tries to pull away.

"i always have a great time with you too." you whisper waiting to have an even greater time with him, the smirk on his lips showing you he hoped for the same.

[youngstarfishphilosopher]

PLATONIC! J-SQUAD X CHILD READER (HEADCANNONS)

Warnings ⚠️: IMPLIED CHILD ABUSE, METIONS OF MURDER, ACTUAL MURDER, HYPNOTISM, THREATS, KIDNAPPING, POSSESIVE BEHAVIOR, IMPLIED USE OF FEAR TOXIN

JEROME VALESKA:

Welp, good luck, my friend

- You would be one of his hostages who he was planning to kill. Patiently waiting your turn for your fun death. You had an abusive / less than kind family member with you at the time who had forced you to go there.

- When realizing that you two two were a little family unit, he decides to amuse himself a little.

- " Hey, hey you!" He would yell at one of his goons. " Tye them up to that uhhhh. . . That spinning wheel thing. And bring the kid over to me."

- Tying your family member up, Jerome places one of three throwing daggers in your hand( crowching down if you're small) while kind of just coaching you on how to throw them.

- What a surprise for him when not only do you do it without hesitation, but with a small smile on your face.

- That's when he goes, " Alright, change of plans, I like this kid." And immediately takes you under his wing

- There is never a dull moment with this man. There are plenty of bloody and horrific ones, sure. But never dull.

- Will make you kill the rest of your family members or do it himself if you can't. You're his now, and he doesn't need anyone trying to get in the way of that or distracting you.

- Sees himself as more of a mentor figure to you rather than an actual parent. But if you do end up calling him dad, he's not complaining.

- Takes you along with him for many of his usual, murderous antics. No matter how old you are, even if you are on the much younger side. "Best to teach them young," He would say.

- Praises you a lot whenever you decided to join in on the fun and always makes either his goons or his hostages cheer for you.

-If you're more on the socially anxious side, he'll try to put you in the spotlight less often and leave your killings as just some private family bonding time.

- This man CANNOT cook. He would burn whatever place he was staying out down to the ground if he tried.

- Gives you a lot of freedom to have fun and do whatever, but don't think that means you're allowed to leave or disobey him. You're still his protégé and need to listen to what he says.

- If you are on the younger side, that list of freedoms would be much shorter.

- He would want you around his vicinity or next to him and would make some of his goons keep an eye on you if he was busy with something.

- Lots of physical affection and inside jokes from this guy.

- All in all: Getting a child wasn't something Jerome had on his bucket list. But he's not really complaining.

JERVIS TETCH:

- To say this man is obsessive is the understatement of the century

- Spots you in the crowd at one of his performances and chooses you as his willing participant

- You might as well forget your parents now, because he'll have already hypnotized them to walk into traffic or jump off a building.

- Unlike the other two, Jervis will expect for you to see him as your dad.

- Will plan extravagant teaparties with all your favorite teas and sweets. And if you're not a sweets kind of person, then he'll put out more savory stuff like sandwiches as soupes.

- Hope you like fancy outfits, because you'll be wearing a lot of them. But don't worry, he'll try to find some that you're comfortable in.

- Doesn't give you a whole lot of freedom. Especially if you're on the much younger side.

- He'll also just randomly picks you up and carry you around with him if you're small enough for him to do so.

- Will not hesitate to hypnotize you and tie you up if he feels it is necessary. So you nest behave

- Usually reads bedtime stories to you, no matter how old you are.

- In conclusion, this man is obsessive and delusional. So just sit back, relax, and let your new papa take care of you.

JONATHAN CRANE:

-Well, this is rather unexpected. He never really saw himself taking care of a child

- He met you at Arkham: His cell next to yours. And you two would talk through the walls whenever a day was especially boring.

- After a while, he warmed up rather well to you. He starts to see you more as family in a way and immediately gets you out of your cell when a breakout in the asylum starts.

- Keeps you far away from your previous family members if you have any. He wouldn't kill them the first time per-say, just . . . Scare them away.

- The second time, he would be much less merciful. They had their chance and should have listened.

- He doesn't let you get too close to him when he's working on his projects in fear of you accidently getting hurt. But if you're an older teenager, he would ask if you would like to try and face your fears.

- He wouldn't force anything, though.

- You see him more as an older brother type figure rather than a parental one.

- Agian, if you are older, he doesn't really let you participate in his antics and usually lets you stay home if he trusts you. But will just bring you along to watch if you're much younger.

- A decent cook all things considered. Not the best by any means, but at least it's not a burt piece of charcoal.

- Will sit and talk with you whenever you need it. He's a pretty good listener.

- He can also get really protective a times, no matter what age you are, and will not hesitate to fear gas somebody.

- Not the best when it comes to physical affection. But will give you some if you want it.

- Although you entering his life was unexpected. Jonathan has found himself enjoying your company a lot more than he ever thought he would. It's probably the only thing good that ever came from being trapped in arkham.

[mcflymemes]

BARBIE (2023) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

i'm definitely not thinking about death anymore!

i've never seen this kind of malfunction.

am i being too technical?

if you ask me, you're responsible for this, too.

to be honest, when i found out the patriarchy wasn't just about horses, i lost interest.

i just gave you a choice so you could feel like you're in control!

how will i get back?

this happened once before.

i just don't want to leave!

you'll be such a hero to them!

i feel appreciated but not ogled.

i hate it when people think. i'm so bored.

the faster i figure this out, the faster we get home.

i'm not pretty anymore!

humans have only one ending. ideas live forever.

you're so beautiful.

how come you're so amazing!

i worked very hard, so... i deserve it!

you're the voice of a generation.

this makes me emotional, and i'm expressing it.

i got us both ice creams!

i think you have that the wrong way around.

how much of that did you see?

let's get you up on your feet.

you should heal up in no time.

this night is just perfect!

please call my mother.

i thought i might stay over tonight.

does the label "long-term long-distance low-commitment casual girlfriend" mean nothing to her?

i'm great at doing stuff.

it is literally impossible to be a woman.

we always have to be extraordinary, but somehow we're always doing it wrong.

never forget that the system is rigged.

find a way to acknowledge that, but also always be grateful.

it's too hard!

i'm just so tired of watching myself and every single other woman tie herself in knots so that people will like us.

i was arrested for tax evasion.

i smell like basement.

what are you doing here?

did you bring your rollerblades?

i literally go nowhere without them!

do you guys ever think about dying?

i'll play the guitar at you.

yeah, i'm... confused about that.

it's like i've been in a dream where i was really invested in the zack snyder cut of "justice league."

can i talk to a doctor?

i need a clicky pen.

somebody get security.

i've never seen the godfather.

every night is a boy's night.

i just don't know who i am without you.

i only exist within the warmth of your gaze.

i'm just a little blond guy who can't do flips.

you guys aren't doing patriarchy very well.

men hate women and women hate women. it's the one thing we can all agree on.

you don't have your license.

you can be brainwashed, or you can be ugly. there's nothing in between.

she's not dying, she's just having an existential crisis.

i'm sensing some kind of ententre here... and it appears to be double.

who am i to burst their bubble?

you use your imagination!

you can ask me any question you want.

[delicrieux]

…TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS ! ⋆｡°✩

⋆⭒˚.⋆ chapter summary. spending a week taking care of fushiguro... how bad could that be?

pairing. gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader warnings for this chapter. swearing wc. 5.2k author’s note. in this story, we use first names in text when reader feels emotionally connected to the person xoxo and that's on stylistics

ੈ ✩‧₊˚

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CHAPTER 10: fushiguro megumi's week-long suspension

“i can’t believe it has come to this…” you utter, squint, and try seeing past the unrelenting glare of the july sun. gojo, always nearby, kicks a pebble, looking much more like an elementary kid rather than the one you are going to pick up.

moody, blushing, shoulders slouched and head hung; he says nothing because he tried saying something five minutes ago when you repeated yourself, but a sharp look and a displeased pinch of your lips made him promptly shut up. where was this deference when he was making your life a living hell while you begged him to leave you alone? at this point, you might tell him to jump and he’d land on pluto, if only you weren’t glaring at him anymore.

you shake your head and tut, “absolutely unbelievable.”

“oh god, please, spare me,” he grumbles, shoving a hand out of his pocket only to offer it to you.

you examine it. unappealing, “sweaty.”

the way he instantly scowls at you could be adorable, if you weren’t so irked. your bingo list for the summer, or ever, really, didn’t include attending a parent-teacher conference about an unruly seven year old that’s not even yours. fushiguro megumi keeps breaking toys and beating up his classmates – detention, teacher’s notes (which gojo did not read), extra homework, and a one on one with the parent (which gojo did not attend) did not work. a public trial is all that’s left, and even this would have slipped through gojo’s fingers. the notice arrived a week ago, but gojo neglected to check his email, and he missed the whole of 5 calls before yaga-sensei was informed of his outstanding failure as fushiguro’s legal guardian.

you shake your head again, almost closing your eyes – it’s too bright and too hot, and you think you hear the sidewalk sizzling, and maybe this is one of those days you shouldn’t be outside at all, “still can’t believe it…”

you wouldn’t be doing your duty as a concerned citizen if you weren’t even attempting to guilt-trip him into oblivion. you had plans today anyway, namely melting into your mattress or heaving by the conditioner, but he has ruined them all by asking you to come along. why didn’t you just say no? maybe because he looked especially miserable.

maybe because…

*

"here, give me that," your fingers curl over his tie, straightening the knot and smoothing it out. the inside of fushiguro’s school is thankfully cool, "is this really necessary though?"

"how do i look?"

"well...good?" your answer doesn't satisfy him much because he reaches for his hair and runs a hand, as if that will do him any favors. it doesn't. you wince and adjust the strands.

"like a respectable adult?" he is still wearing his shades, a necessary evil in the afternoon sun, even within these pale walls.

"that's a stretch."

he frowns, "not helping. the hell, i dressed nicely and everything,"

"not sure how a tie and an untucked shirt is 'nice' exactly, but okay,"

"you are so bossy," gojo has a small, pitiable expression on his face, and he's got it bad. he'd better; there's a ton of disgruntled parents lining the corridor of the conference room, and though this doesn't involve you in the least, they stare a little too hard as if you're the problem. you find you can't meet anyone's gaze directly.

"anyway," you squeeze his forearm, which feels nice – soft, his muscles yielding under the fabric – "keep it together,"

he doesn't, really, "this blows.”

"will you keep it together?"

"you're going in with me," his knuckles rap a rapid, anxious beat over his knee. he is seated and not happy, and you can't help noticing how big he is compared to the other men milling in the room, but most of all, how stupid and incompetent. it makes your heart patter in your chest.

"didn't agree to that. why do i have to?"

"because," he glares, "i'll tell them you're the mom."

he's lost it. your arms cross and your brow flattens. you take a few seconds to regard him before giving your answer.

"satoru, don’t they know you're, like, a step-dad?"

"i'm the dad that stepped up."

"seriously?"

"technicality."

"you pay the utility bills," you whisper back, annoyed.

"i'll tell them it's your biological child if you don't go in with me," he threatens.

the tips of his ears have turned a telltale pink, and even he notices, ducking his head and leaning further against the wall. when his leg won't stop bobbing, and he keeps the nervous tapping going, your heart sinks, "satoru," he really has you hook, line, and sinker, because you falter faced with his obvious distress. you didn't expect him to be this nervous, since he's always so carefree, "you..." he looks so very uncomfortable and unhappy in his white button up, which is a bit crumped, mind you, "oh, what the hell. fine."

"thank god."

the faculty makes an appearance, but not one person recognizes him. a brief discussion and introductions later, the room is emptied save the offended parents, the teacher, you, and gojo.

adults can be scary, but your job involves cursed spirits, and those are much scarier than a disgruntled salaryman will ever be.

what is more terrifying than a cursed spirit or a perturbed father trying to lynch gojo with his glare is a scorned mother. you try to not shrink into yourself as she points an accusing finger, as if you've committed the crime alongside fushiguro, "explain yourselves! what kind of parenting is this!?"

if you were sweating before, well, now you're really sweating. you and gojo share a quick, worried glance before the faculty intervenes to give an account of fushiguro. she must have some kind of hearing impairment because she yells, "young parents these days, treating their children so dismissively!"

it would be highly unadvisable and probably a very bad idea to mention the circumstances by which gojo is legally fushiguro's ward, or the fact that he's neither your biological son nor your son at all, and luckily, gojo is smart enough not to disclose any of that. no, what he says is so much worse, "i can assure you that we provide all the attention and care in the world for our son!"

it takes your mind a second to fully comprehend that, yes, he has, in fact, said 'we' and 'son' in the same sentence, and then his hand comes to clutch and yank you painfully over so that you're sitting half on the edge of his chair, "tell her!"

and the room falls deadly quiet for a few moments, which you use wisely to consider: first, kicking gojo right where it counts, and second, bolting for the nearest exit.

the silence is stifling, "err... yes, we take care of him."

"are you even out of college?!" the woman is flaring red with anger.

this isn't exactly your proudest moment, or his, and you can feel your legs shake, and how is it possible that gojo's arm, slung around your waist, is steady and strong, "we're not, but we're, we’re doing the best we can."

when the hell did you become so willing to dive into danger for a man? you'd never met such a troublemaker, and yet, here you are, listening to gojo tell the concerned parent in a voice far more confident than it had been just seconds ago, "you need not concern yourself, ma'am. we take care of megumi every single day and provide a nurturing, homey, and responsible environment for him. and we also love him very much. he and his sister. which we love. right, dear?"

and that’s your cue, “yes. my children. very well behaved.”

"he broke my son's nose!"

"did he deserve it?" gojo quips.

"no!"

he sighs. you eye the door longingly.

"i'll pay the medical bills."

*

the heat's less severe when you leave. a suspension.

with fushiguro safe and collected from his classes, the three of you stroll back to jujutsu technical. gojo lets him lead and you lag, half embarrassed, a third disinterested, and two thirds disheartened that you're now seriously involved with someone like gojo satoru, that this is your life. god, that whole experience was so bad, and his word vomit was the cherry on the shittiest cake you've had in a long time.

you are still, quite frankly, mortified. you know that gojo was talking out of his ass because explaining the real situation would actually make it look even worse than a case of young and stupid parents, but it somehow unnerved you greatly.

this is none of your concern. or it shouldn't be, at the very least. but it's making you consider the distant future and wrangle with the question of – do you want to get married? do you want to have children? such a line of thinking is unacceptable for many reasons, namely that you don't, and you're young, and you'd rather not die with any false hopes in place, because it's likely you'll never reach past your mid-20s and be with someone you actually would want to start a family with.

the city is hazy and humid, the people around appear sluggish. a vendor sells a bunch of sweet watermelons by the street. gojo stops to buy some slices for the three of you, and fushiguro accepts his reluctantly.

then, he marches onward, gloomy as always.

"megumiiiin," and gojo is right on his tail, wiggling his fingers in what's supposed to be an invitation, "let's hold hands."

"no."

"come on, i got you a week-long vacation," he insists.

"it's a suspension!" you hiss, chewing.

gojo glances back. shrugs, "eh."

fushiguro drags his feet, his chin tucked into the front of his uniform's collar, black bangs shifting messily and sticking over his eyes, "m'not apologizing."

"don't, you got good aim," gojo says wisely.

fushiguro offers gojo nothing else to say. the awkward and mortifying experience is, for him, nonexistent. he doesn't know what happened behind those doors, and he shouldn't to preserve his innocence.

for the remainder of the walk, he trudges forward without uttering another word, or without once turning back. the way he's sulking and putting distance between you, however, makes the unpleasant feeling linger a bit longer than it should, though there's really nothing you can do.

once he's already making his way to his temporary lodging, you call out, "ne, megumi," and his footsteps cease immediately. he turns about and stares expectantly, "do you have any plans for tomorrow?"

"...no."

gojo watches you with sharp interest as you try not to bend under the pressure of both of their gazes, "well," you try, sounding a bit shy, "in that case, would you like to go shopping with me? i could use the company."

silence. the awkwardness from the earlier meeting hangs heavy, until fushiguro seems to recover and crosses his arms, mouth set a little firmly, "i have to finish my homework."

what a horrible excuse.

"we could visit the arcade and get slushies," you say, feeling a bit more confident since he seems to be cracking.

he narrows his eyes, considering his options. then, with a very pronounced scowl, "is he going?"

gojo perks, having been slouching listlessly with a grimace, "oh! me? sure, i'll be there," he even beams, the prick, while fushiguro gives him a deadpan stare.

"oh, no no," you try to rectify quickly, "satoru isn't going," and you jab your elbow into his side, sunny smile and all, "you're busy tomorrow, remember?"

gojo frowns. then he pouts. then, he looks annoyed. but finally, he looks away and says, "yeah, right. i am. totally forgot. so busy."

"figured," fushiguro hums, shrugs a little and says, "sure."

"awesome," you grin, feeling somehow very lucky, "it's a date!"

"not a date!" gojo declares.

fushiguro stomps through the door, his entire demeanor shifting entirely from apathetic to downright irritated, muttering, "you two are weird."

and then he's gone. the door creaks shut behind his small frame.

"it's a date?" gojo parrots, giving you a look.

"oh, don't be mad. it's just fun teasing him," you smile a little sheepishly, tugging him along to the direction of your dorm room.

he matches your pace, steps becoming slower. his arm is warm around your back.

*

“you don’t offer to hang out often,” coming from fushiguro, it sounds less of an observation and more like a thinly veiled accusation. you give pause.

true to your word, you have taken him to get slushies and some light shopping after a stop at the aquarium, which he enjoyed the most because it was quiet and the room felt never-ending.

for a kid, fushiguro is too perceptive, too grumpy, too. you hadn't expected that your presence could be missed, or even desired, since it was so rare to see him when he wasn’t on college grounds. with his sister still at summer camp, he doesn’t have anywhere else to stay. the two of them living alone with semi-regular visits from gojo is already wildly weird and unsafe, and leaving him by himself in the apartment was out of the question.

maybe you should have invited him earlier. he must be so lonely.

"mm. s'always busy with jujutsu studies," you tell him a bit shamefully.

a tic twitches underneath his eye. he finishes his cherry-red drink in two long gulps before taking you up the escalator to his favorite candy store.

you hold his palm. he grips tight but releases hastily as though embarrassed the second the mom and pops duo in their late fifties make a aaaw sound at you two. you almost throw your electric blue slushie at them – the workup to this very moment had been nothing short of arduous. the old man and woman look absolutely infatuated.

you will have to try to sneakily hold his hand again, under the pretenses of safety or whatever, even if you’re fairly certain fushiguro would beat up a kidnapper if it ever came down to it.

he dives straight for the large jar that has the 'bullet gums' printed on the container. he holds it up, and somehow, he's more of a little kid than the angry gremlin he usually is in gojo's presence. you have to battle with yourself to not fish out your phone and snap a million pictures.

"so cute..." you mutter under your breath.

you don't think it reaches his ears until his forehead wrinkles into an offended scowl, but he doesn't say anything as he goes on picking and tossing the good ones in his basket.

"how much money do you have?" fushiguro looks at your purse suspiciously.

you’re a bit affronted – maybe he and gojo do have a lot more in common than anyone would suspect, because this child has just called you poor.

"ehh, don't worry,” maybe you should be worried for the future generation and their manners, “satoru gave me his card, so you can buy anything you want.”

fushiguro scowls. he sets down the bulging bag on the floor beside him, and looks away from you, "...i don't want anything."

you blink and peer at the selection of items. it will likely be a hefty sum, but nothing too egregious. fushiguro picked his candy with care, and you note that it’s mostly sour things.

“but it looks tasty,” you say, and you mean it, even if you prefer sugar on sugar atop liquid sugar.

“no.”

you ponder for a second what might have made him so upset so suddenly. you hum. time for some mathematics. fushiguro hates gojo, gojo is sponsoring this outing, which, maybe, somehow equals fushiguro wanting to spend time with gojo, hence, fushiguro is grumpy and probably wants to go home.

you feel like 2 + 2 = 5 since you’ve uncovered one more piece of information.

well, this is a problem. you raise an eyebrow. how does one deal with an upset seven year old? you think you’ve been doing good so far, but it’s only because fushiguro was in a good mood and somehow tolerable of your presence. suppose you'll have to play by his rules. suppose you can do that, or at the very least try.

slowly, you take the bag. then, you extend your hand to him, "we could try maxing out satoru's card – doesn't that sound fun?"

he furrows his brow and looks like he's having a bad idea. slowly, hesitantly, his tiny palm comes to land in yours, fingers slotting, and then you are both making your way to the counter.

the next spot you visit is a bookstore.

"do you like reading?" you inquire curiously.

a shrug. you assume he's shy, so you let it pass, instead picking up a few manga. they seem popular these days, and maybe you’ll actually have some free time to read it before missions swamp you and you’re off to battle curses in the muggy heat.

meanwhile, fushiguro chooses a coloring book and a plethora of new, shiny markers.

"looks cool," you say.

"yeah," he agrees, and he seems happy. you would really like to take a picture right about now, but you swipe gojo’s credit card instead. you and fushiguro share a pleased look.

when you visit the food court, it’s already buzzing.

"let's get something to eat," you suggest. he nods, "pizza?"

"yes please."

you notice him getting a bit anxious when a large group of people move in front of the two of you, and without a word, your push him closer to your body as you shield him. he stiffens, but doesn't ask you to let go, and leans his head into the comfort.

that's sweet. too sweet. you resist the urge to melt down. god, this kid is growing on you like fungus. you can't believe how happy you are to be spending time with him. that this is actually happening, and you're not imagining any of it. you almost regret not doing this sooner. you feel stupid for being scared and skipping out before.

you might even, and this you find startling, put yourself through the whole ordeal with the parent-teacher conference again. only this time, you might be the one screaming and pointing fingers. what a cute kid.

when the person in front of you finally vacates a table, you squeeze into the tight space, but not before flagging down the server.

"is it just me, or does today feel like a celebration?" you ask him in the attempt of stirring conversation.

his bored eyes wander around, perhaps not finding the occasion anything special or remarkable. but then, with a nod, he says, "i guess."

that's as much enthusiasm as he's going to allow himself to show, and that is completely fine, you decide. you don't need him to pretend for the sake of pleasing you. you're just happy to be here, and you can't wait to tell gojo all about this in great detail. he'll be so jealous.

*

yes, gojo can get any michelin star meal delivered within the hour if he’s persistent and snooty enough. he might also be able to import something from korea in the timeframe it took you to decide on what to eat if fushiguro so much as implored he wanted anything. the real problem is that fushiguro does not want to eat anything touched by gojo’s hands or credit card – the outing being the only exception, as that was done with malicious intent to scam gojo out of more money than was necessary – and you think it’s not healthy to have a growing kid survive on the instant noodles and snacks you purchase from the convenience store.

the cafeteria food is alright, but it, too, lacks the nutrition needed for strong bones and a healthy immune system. you also were unable to find the allergens or a basic ingredients list on the food served there, and the cooks you inquired were suspiciously tight-lipped about it, which only left you pondering about what exactly you have been eating for the past three years.

that, and fushiguro seems to be missing his sister lately, who, apparently, made him food, or made food alongside him, but your newfound big sister instincts send you into a frenzy even imagining this child next to a sharp knife. he is way too independent. when you think of yourself being his age, you think your childhood was much more carefree.

a homecooked meal it is. only problem is that you’re not a great cook, and whatever you made you could only serve yourself because it was just mediocre enough to teeter on the scale of enjoyment, if it could be called that.

still, you were wrestled into an apron by a pest named gojo satoru, who dons a matching one but avoids the pots and pans and stays by the television with fushiguro, as he was made aware that whatever he touches will be promptly thrown into the trash.

you chop, and stir, and haughtily avoid the counter where you were propped up to be devoured by the same man throwing his head back and cackling at some painfully unfunny late night tv show. you catch your reflection in the sharp blade of a knife and pause for a moment.

so this is my life now, huh?

as expected, neither the presentation nor the actual food is up to fushiguro’s standards. it’s evident by the way he skeptically pokes the mess on his plate with his fork. the noodles are too crisp, the broccoli – burned. you might’ve gone overboard with the seasoning, and yes, you can wrangle a curse into submission, but you cannot prepare a decent dinner.

you wait for the verdict with your hands curled into your apron, like some maid about to be scolded by a temperamental prince.

when a minute passes of just examination, you thread carefully, “ne,” fix your best smile, tilt your head to the side even – this is beyond humiliating. nothing gojo has put you through could ever amount to the small curl of queasiness on fushiguro’s mouth, “how about we order food in?”

“i’ll pay!” comes gojo’s enthusiastic agreement. he even waves the remote around, like it’ll summon something delicious on the coffee table just like that.

fushiguro, faced with this unprecedented cheerfulness, stabs his dinner and eats without a word spared.

you stare. no, this can’t be good, you might give him food poisoning, “no, really. let’s order something edible.”

fushiguro chews thoughtfully before he answers, “…it’s edible.”

“liar!” gojo accuses.

“shut up!”

well. it doesn't go too badly, and after a while, gojo puts on a nature documentary as a peace offering, while you wash the dirty dishes and keep sending worried glances to a now placid fushiguro who dutifully finished his meal and has moved on to polishing the bowl clean.

and you can't help the sudden onslaught of fondness that fills you up as the warm water from the sink hits your fingers. this is oddly nice and comforting. it reminds you of the dinners you had back home, only they never were this late and you always pouted when having to wash your plate and utensils.

"eh," you almost drop the soapy spatula; your head ticks to the entrance of the dorm kitchen, and you see shoko leaning by the doorway before the smell of cigarette smoke reaches you. her eyes jump from your apron, to gojo sprawled on the couch, to fushiguro neatly folding a small towel, "feeling a bit left out. what's going on here?"

oh no. you feel your face heat all the way to your forehead. how incriminating, how do you even begin to explain this strange and off-putting development of your relationship with gojo?

maybe you should have told her as soon as it happened, but you didn't know how.

you wanted to, though. each time you meet shoko’s gaze, you had the overwhelming urge to come clean. you can’t phantom how criminals can lie to the police with a straight face, because you’re having significant trouble. what’s worse, it always felt like shoko knew anyway, somehow; that that information breached the kawakami-gojo bubble and bled into the common knowledge pool.

shoko always seemed so suspicious, and in this case, for good reason. now, suppose you don't have to explain anything at all.

gojo points at you with this thumb, "she can't cook for shit, you know that?"

"oh, yes," shoko hums, pleased, "know it too well. i won't need to use reverse on you, will i?"

"nah," he drawls, "think i'd eat that drivel? i'm not suicidal."

"hey!" you bristle.

fushiguro frowns and glares at the tuff of white hair peaking over the back of the couch, "it wasn't so bad."

and your anger vanishes, just like that. your honor has been defended by an seven year old, and now it's just a matter of having to bear with shoko's probing look and the telltale curve in her smile.

"ah, well, if megumi vouches for you, then maybe you've improved," shoko says sagely.

gojo snorts in clear disagreement. fushiguro scrunches his brow and purses his lips.

*

there’s definitely something somewhere written about proper bedtime, but being with fushiguro has made you sentimental about your childhood, and you recalled sneaking around at night to watch tv and having too much energy to sleep, even when you were tucked into your favorite blanket with your favorite stuffed toy under your armpit and read your favorite story.

so you take him to a pastry shop at near closing time, and smile particularly sweetly at the disgruntled cashier who just finished cleaning up. you feel a bit bad, but alas – a tasty treat is a tasty treat, and what is more, everything’s on discount, so you spend a generous amount to make sure fushiguro and you have enough to snack on all the way back to jujutsu tech and then some.

you also got some for gojo, despite how brattish he can be. the only reason he didn’t follow you here is because fushiguro had forbidden it, but even now, you’re not sure if you aren’t being monitored.

fushiguro bites into his colorful fish cookie and chews. the sky is already dimming, but there’s still plenty of people out and about, enjoying their summer. he keeps close, but doesn’t reach for your hand. you hadn’t been able to achieve your initial victory at the start of the week, but maybe you still have some time.

“you’re leaving for a mission,” he says after a pleasant silence, blunt as always. you try remembering if you were this honest when you were his age. certainly, you must’ve been more tactful. when your gaze flits to fushiguro, you find him disgruntled, an expression reminiscent of gojo when he doesn’t get something he wants.

it’s starkly similar, actually. a father that stepped up…

“it’s only for a few days,” you tell him, keeping your voice light in an effort to appease him, “i’ll be back before you know it. with souvenirs, too.”

a tic creases his brow as he seems to give the offer some serious contemplation. a couple of moments pass before, with a sharp huff, he mumbles a sour, "do as you like."

you manage a patient, "look forward to the present, hm?"

he is very stubborn and says nothing but chews with a little more fervor.

"maybe you want something specific? or would surprise be best?"

you hear a short sound of exasperation at that, and a shake of his head.

"no... you can choose, nee-san."

you nearly collapse. fushiguro, no, megumi, megumi hasn't ever been so malleable before; the things this boy has been doing to your heart must be against the law. it’s too precious, and so sweet it makes the glazed cinnamon bun grasped so tightly between your fingers taste bland. how could you ever recover? is it even worth bringing it up? just how much does megumi truly care about you to call you something so tender?

you have to swallow a disgusting ball of coo for the sake of everyone, namely megumi, who seems especially irritated, “…how about a plushy? or a phone accessory? satoru said he bought you a nice new model.”

your efforts do not go unnoticed. there is a gleam in his eyes, and his cheeks flush in pleasure.

"can..." his tone lowers, quiet, almost timid, "can i choose when you're back?"

there isn't a bone in your body strong enough to decline that.

"of course," you smile, "tell me when i should come back and i will."

a pair of small fingers come to grip your sleeve, hesitantly, shyly.

"the sooner, the better," he mumbles, glaring at the sidewalk, "so... be quick."

*

“’s stupid,” gojo grumbles, making himself comfortable on your bed instead of helping you pack your suitcase, “why you needa go, anyway?”

not him, too. christ, why are they ganging up on you?

you sigh, folding a sweater. it’ll likely be too warm to wear it, but you’ll take it just in case, “cuz yaga-sensei told me to?”

“coulda said no,” he answers stubbornly. you pause to stare him down.

if not for the sunglasses, he would be giving you the same look as megumi; a bit less angry, more passive aggressive.

he presses, the smirk fading, a sharp edge to his voice, not quite biting, not yet, "wanna stay and fuck a bit instead?"

god. the word makes your spine crawl with something familiar, or rather, a mix of emotions that is indescribable and difficult to disentangle; something close to exasperated fondness, perhaps.

but you shake your head, the weak protests die out on your lips, and he rolls over, sated, like a cat that had gotten its cream, "...you sure?"

"stop trying to seduce me," you snort, ignoring the lingering glance directed at your back.

"then you'd really miss your train."

"satoru."

"right, right..."

"go be annoying somewhere else."

a heavy exhale. you don't dare to turn because you hear the mattress creak and his footsteps drawing nearer.

the warmth envelops you easily, his hold is lazy, his mouth is by your ear, hot breath sending a shiver up your nape, "mean. and here i am, all ready and eager."

but his fingers linger on the waist of your shorts, just above the material. it's a small touch. noninvasive. you can feel him holding himself back.

"...'s gonna be too cold," gojo continues, quietly. he isn't helping, his nose nudging your hair, a soft kiss pressed below your earlobe, "in bed without you. who will i cuddle now?"

oh, damn him and the things he does and says. and that honey sweet voice of his, teasing you.

but you won't fall for his tricks, "well, it won't be forever. you won't even notice i'm gone."

and he laughs. like he's telling himself not to show his irritation at you dismissing him so easily, "always notice," he mumbles, or maybe he doesn't, because he kisses your cheek one more time before he disentangles and plops down onto the mattress again, "anyway, megumi wants to escort you to the train station, so expect an entourage."

you ponder who would be more clingy: gojo or megumi.

*

it's gojo.

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