#''.......honestly i did not think this through-''

[housederiva]

Viago’s voice actor and his partner lost their home and everything but their dog in the LA fires… I know exactly what that kind of pain feels like and it’s not a grief I would wish upon anyone. Above all of the anger and indescribable anguish, I remember the kindness that my community gave my family after my fire and I think we can do something really great if we pull together and help Joseph now

The link to his GoFundMe is right here and as of me posting this I’m very happy to say it’s about 95% of the way to its goal

And if you can’t donate, maybe consider sending him a message of support or a prayer if you’re of the religious sort (I’m not sure how the praying thing works) via his Instagram here If you live a little closer to LA County than I do and have access to a furnished place they could stay if one hasn’t already been found I would consider it a personal favor 🙇

[soundleer]

Jevin and Tunner should give Sky a sibling fr

funny that you say that, i was just about to draw sky with a sibling... actually TWO SIBLINGS! now that i get to finish coloring their designs, here is sky with his older sisters!!

+ along with their references

meet the whistlehood fanchildren, peebii and jaylene!!

[0samue0]

The best example of this, in my opinion, is Supernatural.

For those who don't know: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke and supposed to be five seasons long. He did get his five seasons but by then the show had become so popular that it was decided to give them a season 6 (which eventually went up to 15) - without Eric Kripke who had already told his story.

The last episode of season 5 was heartbreaking. It was one of the saddest things I had ever watched because it beautifully tied up all the love and tragedy and hope and fear of the previous seasons. They won. And paid an incredibly high price for their victory.

It way truly gut wrenching.

And I was okay with that. Because while one of the brothers ended up in hell, locked up with the prospect of an eternity of torture he did that for his brother and for us. To live. Not just survive, but live.

And thanks to the absolute fantastic storytelling, directing and acting of that episode, both the viewer and the surviving brother could make peace with it and try to live our life to the fullest.

Which was the point when the supposedly dead brother showed up on screen without any and all explanations. Never ever have I been angrier at a plot twist. Certainly not at one that saved a beloved character from a terrible fate.

What followed were 10 years of the brothers being the most codependent idiots we've ever seen on TV. Honestly, I'd say 8 of the 10 following seasons can be summoned up with: Brother A dies, Brother B does something stupid to bring him back, Brother A is pissed at Brother B and swears to never forgive him until Brother B dies and A does something stupid to bring him back. Accompanied by gay pining and much suffering for the angel.

Have you ever wished for your favorite character to die?

I have. Around season 9 I got fed up with Sam being angry at Dean and was waiting for Dean to finally bite it again so that Sam would turn normal again.

Now, that doesn't mean I didn't like season 6-15. I wouldn't have watched them if I didn't enjoy them. I've just always been salty about the wasted ending from season 5.

And then the show's finale came and oh boy was it bad. It was sad too. One of the brothers died again but got the other to promise not to bring him back. And for some reason he actually followed up on that promise.

The problem was that it felt pointless.

Prior to that we lost Castiel, the angel, to his supposedly final death, right after (as all of tumblr probably knows) he had told Dean that he loved him.

And that destroyed Dean. For one episode. All in all the plot ended with the brothers losing everyone they had cared for but each other. They had won but at this point you weren't celebrating the victory, you thought "Ok. What's next?"

The wildest part was, that none of that was in any shape or form important for the last episode. They were happy, enjoying life, eating pie, not working through their emotions at all and dying thanks to sheer carelessness. One of them. He goes to Heaven, everyone and their mothers are there, including the apparently not dead angel.

Do you think they talk to Cas? Or to the kid they had basically adopted? To their mother whom they'd dearly mourned or the father whose shadow they had finally outgrown? Nope.

I mean, thank God it was their actual Dad and not their sperm donor that greeted dead brother and explained all of the above but still. There was no closure. No tying up loose ends, not heartfelt reunion.

Just a drive in the car and a time lapse of the surviving brother's live until he died of old age and showed up in heaven the same age he had been when his brother had died.

The End.

So yeah, the difference between a good ending and a bad ending isn't the "happy". It's the heartfelt.

i hate when ppl act like the only reason to not like a "sad" ending is because you can't take it or whatever. personally as a tragedy enjoyer, i hate a poorly written ending. i hate an ending that is just kind of a bummer. i hate an ending that feels mean-spirited to the audience. i hate an ending that's redundant. i love a sad ending that is thematically consistent, poignant, and bespoke to the rest of its narrative.

[xhyjin]

next door neighbour dilfsukuna! who really didn’t think the date through, as he now has to figure out who will watch yuji during the weekend. if the scenario were different, he would’ve asked you, but since you’re the one he’s taking out, he can’t. he thinks he should cancel it and plan it out better but doesn’t want you to think he’s careless or impulsive, so he plans a romantic dinner at home. that way, he can still keep his word and watch yuji at the same time.

next door neighbour dilfsukuna! who thinks a romantic date at home is a dinner in his backyard, decorated with fairy lights, flowers that yuji picked from the garden as the centerpiece, and the most expensive wine sukuna could afford. to say he wasn’t nervous would be a lie. he spent a good 30 minutes purging his closet because he wasn’t sure if wearing a suit was too much or not. yuji sat on his bed, watching his uncle/dad show him potential outfit choices, facepalming and shaking his head at every single one until sukuna finally decided to wear the suit.

next door neighbour dilfsukuna! who hasn’t felt this nervous in his life at all. he sits on the couch with yuji as they watch spongebob, his heart pounding as he glances at the clock above the tv. biting his nails nervously, he starts to think you won’t show up. just as those thoughts begin to consume him, the doorbell rings. both his and yuji’s heads shoot up as they look at each other before he gets off the couch and makes his way to the door, silently praying that wearing a suit wasn’t too much. but when he opens the door and sees you standing there in a pink sundress, he swears he’s fallen in love at the mere sight of you. quickly clearing his throat, he greets you. “glad you could make it,” he says, trying his best to maintain his usual nonchalant and snarky attitude. but the way you’re smiling at him—it could melt an iceberg, let alone him.

next door neighbour dilfsukuna! who is about to say something else as he walks behind you while you make your way into the house when yuji runs up to you and hugs your lower legs. “ms. l/n!” he says excitedly. sukuna watches the scene in front of him with heart eyes, feeling a warmth he hasn’t felt in a long time. the way yuji loves you fills him with so much happiness, especially knowing how much you’ve been there for them during these hard times. yuji grabs your hand and tells you to close your eyes before eagerly dragging you to the backyard. you follow his lead, curious but not expecting much. when you open your eyes, you’re met with the sight of a beautiful backyard, dimly lit with fairy lights. you can’t help but gasp as you take it all in, your heart swelling with surprise and admiration.

“you did all of this?” you ask, turning to sukuna. he stands there with a smug but proud look on his face, clearly pleased with himself.

“sure did,” he says, making his way toward you and placing a hand on your lower back. “right this way,” he adds, his voice smooth as he guides you to the table set up in the middle of the backyard.

next door neighbour dilfsukuna! who takes a seat in front of you, watching as you admire his backyard. “wow, sukuna, i honestly didn’t expect all of this,” you admit, a small smile spreading across your face as you glance around. yuji runs back into the house, only to return moments later with a piece of paper in his hands.

“what? you didn’t think i was a romantic guy?” sukuna teases, his tone light. before you can respond, yuji interrupts, holding up the paper proudly.

“this is the menu!” he announces, placing it in front of you. the “menu” is just scribbles, but as yuji’s teacher, you can easily make out the words.

“wow, spaghetti with house-made sauce?!” you exclaim, pretending to be amazed, and yuji giggles, his face lighting up with pride.

sukuna leans in slightly, his expression half curious, half amused. “you can actually read that little brat’s writing?” he asks, clearly impressed.

rolling your eyes playfully, you respond, “yes, and don’t call him that.”

sukuna chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “whatever you say,” he replies, standing up moments later. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i have to help the head chef. he’s particularly short,” he jokes, smirking as he walks off. his comment earns a giggle from you, and you nod, settling back in your seat as sukuna follows yuji into the house to get the so called spaghetti with house-made sauce

next door neighbour dilfsukuna! who spends the rest of the night completely captivated by you. he notices everything-the way you pick up your fork, the way your lips part as you take a bite, the way you chew so delicately, and the way you cover your mouth with your hand when speaking or laughing. his gaze lingers on your eyes and lips, and he catches you shyly avoiding his stare, which only makes you more endearing to him. he's utterly mesmerized and determined to kiss you at least once before the night is over.

as midnight approaches, you help sukuna tuck yuji into bed, the little boy fighting sleep because he doesn't want to miss any more time with his favorite teacher.

"i'll see you on monday, yuji," you say softly to him. his sleepy eyes light up as his uncle carries him on his hip.

"you promise?" yuji asks, sticking his pinky out toward you.

you chuckle and intertwine your pinky with his. "yes, yuji, i promise," you say, following sukuna as he walks into the house with yuji in his arms. after tucking him in, you both quietly leave the room, making your way to the front door.

"i had a really good time, sukuna," you say shyly, absentmindedly twirling a strand of your hair between your fingers. sukuna smiles at the sight of you, looking so cute and beautiful.

"i had a good time too," he says, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone as he steps closer. "y/n," he says your name softly, almost like a whisper.

you look up at him with doe eyes and nod.

"yes, sukuna?"

"may i kiss you?" he asks, his cheeks flushing a faint pink, matching the hue of his hair.

you involuntarily gasp but quickly catch your composure, nodding as your gaze drops to his lips. sukuna leans in, one hand gently resting on your waist while the other cradles your cheek.

"have i ever mentioned how beautiful you are?" he murmurs, his forehead pressing against yours. before you can answer, he closes the gap, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that is both soft and rough, filled with unspoken feelings. his hand on your cheek slides to your waist, pulling you closer as your arms wrap around his neck.

after what feels like an eternity, he pulls back slightly, his lips hovering mere inches from yours as you both catch your breath.

"i'd love to see you again," he says, his voice hopeful, his eyes searching yours.

"it's a date then," you reply with a smile, your heart racing as you look into his eyes.

should i just turn this into a fic? ><

[utilitycaster]

I wanted to explore the idea of people who dislike C3 not engaging with its themes because I haven't actually seen anyone making the argument give a full rundown of said themes, and this may end up being several posts. I'd like to start with anticolonialism. Perhaps it is a theme; if so, I think it's presented exceptionally badly, in a way that appeals uniquely to white westerners desiring to see themselves as a combination of victim and savior, rather than as a complex issue in a story centering the colonized. It got very long, so it's under a cut.

If this is the theme with which we as the viewers are not engaging, I'd argue neither is the work itself - it's largely projection. As many others have pointed out, the use of Marquet, a setting inspired by Africa and Asia (and presented in a highly stereotyped and Orientalist way in Campaign 1 no less) as nothing more than a casual backdrop with little engagement with the cultures present, and with much of the story elsewhere, undercuts that badly. I'd actually argue this is a recurring issue with Critical Role's works; Ank'Harel appears and is even fleshed out more in Call of the Netherdeep, but the story follows, and mostly takes place, among the Calamity-era ruins being excavated and amid faction squabbles concerning them. The culture and politics of Ank'Harel remain a distant second to the greater mythology of the Calamity, and again, after the society and culture and everyday people of the more European-inspired Wildemount took such a front seat in Campaign 2, it seems like a worrying pattern. Given the increased sensitivity and investment towards the cultures based on those in our own world that (for the most part) did the colonizing, and the "set-dressing", as others have called it, status of Marquet, perhaps this world is not a good one to tell that story. What's also interesting, and telling, is that the African and Asian - especially West, South, and Southeast Asian - was even a defense within the fandom: the reason so few of Bells Hells were from Marquet, we were told, is because the cast is white. In that case, and given how Marquet is so poorly integrated into the story that multiple beats relying on knowledge of the Apex War fall flat, why didn't we set this in Issylra (notably, the continent in which modern, mortal-driven occupation efforts are occurring)? And more importantly why are we trusting a group nearly entirely made of white culturally Christian Americans to tell what is argued to be an exceptionally leftist story on religiously-motivated colonialism if we can't even trust them to play a character from a real-world culture heavily impacted by said colonialism?

Another rather significant wrinkle is the fact that those wishing to release Predathos in the service of destroying the gods were happily working with the Kreviris Imperium, who desired to colonize Exandria. Remember how everyone was just talking about how the poor Ruidians would die if the planet were destroyed and how they're the victims in all this (and honestly, I don't disagree that the commoners of Ruidus, especially those without psychic powers, have a uniquely rough deal) when the planet cracks? Well, let's talk that through. I think the role of the Vanguard's Ruidusborn in this is rather important, ie, if they are throwing off the colonialism of the gods (to be discussed later whether I consider that valid), they are doing so by stepping on the necks of the common people of Ruidus. And if those people will be doomed by the release of Predathos, it is Bells Hells who doomed them.

The people of Ruidus were told of their manifest destiny of the Blue Promise by their governing body (which also served, effectively, as religious leadership, with mind control). I think "Propaganda" is a poor real-world metaphor for "sends dreams of the land promised to you each night, making you both jealous of what they have and very much influenced by their culture, while you have no dreams of your own" but it's the best I have, but that itself occupies an interesting space. It's a great beat for sf, but this actually leads to a rather worrisome metaphor regarding the nature of cultural influence (which was spoken of on a 4-sided Dive and is often cited here, and I think the way it's discussed fails to consider the implications). The idea of cultural hegemony and globalization is a very real one. It can occur within one's country (I, a non-Christian American, am well acquainted with many Christmas songs and traditions and am given Christian holidays off work but must use vacation for my own). It can also occur outside of it, as with globalized beauty standards - white ideas of beauty leading to light skin being prioritized in India, or double-eyelid surgery becoming common in South Korea. The situation on Ruidus therefore has some interesting implications. What does it mean for them to have inherited culture from Exandria - but at the hands of their own government that seeks to colonize Exandria? Is this a good way to explore these topics, when Exandrians are neatly excluded from the spread of their own cultural hegemony (as they had no idea) and are also poised to become the victims in this colonization? This idea, incidentally - that the people of Exandria exist in an impossible in-between space in the colonization metaphors, blameless victim yet free from the ugliest consequences of being a colonized culture - will recur, and I think that is the most damning evidence that this is at best a story of anticolonialism stripped of nuance and complexity.

In a further exploration of the cultural impact of colonialism, what does it mean that, again, I, Jewish from birth and raised in a Jewish home and sent, even, to a Jewish school through middle school (though not a Jewish preschool) have a pretty thorough knowledge of not just Christmas songs, but could probably name a bunch of individual Christian denominations and maybe even the intricacies in how they depict their crosses - while generally having freedom to practice my religion within the dominantly Christian US, if not equality in doing so - but Bells Hells, living under the presumed thumb of the gods, can't reliably tell their symbols or domains? Others have already covered this but if the gods are the dominant force, why have Bells Hells managed to largely avoid any actual consequences for godlessness other than "when I asked for something, I didn't get it?"

Why have all the governments we've seen, save Vasselheim (which, again - we haven't ever spent a ton of time in, so why did we go to Marquet again?) failed to convey religious dominance at the hands of the gods? The Clovis Concord, Tal'Dorei, Whitestone, Niirdal-Poc, Syngorn, and as far as I can tell Ank'Harel, Jrusar, Bassuras, Court of the Lambent Path, and the Stratos Throne (and if the latter isn't then Imogen and Ashton grew up in its borders without any religion forced upon them) are all secular governments that at most have outlawed Betrayer God worship. The Empire (in which Ludinus Da'leth has been a major political force for centuries) has strong restrictions on worship of all but six gods, and if you look at the first Tal'Dorei Campaign setting, it was at the timed conceived of as banning all deity worship. The Dynasty is a theocracy for a non-pantheon entity, engaging in missionary work but largely depicted as (if I may, oddly) devoid of violence. While Uthodurn's King Imathan Talviel is himself a worshiper of the Arch Heart, Uthodurn appears to have no state religion. Indeed, I'd say, as again, someone of a frequently persecuted religious minority, who lives in a country with a dark history of forced conversion of the native colonized people into Christianity [the Native American residential school system] I'd say that for a world in which the gods are objectively real? Exandrian governments are bizarrely lenient and bloodless when it comes to religion. Only the Dynasty even has a state religion of the aforementioned locations, and they don't even outlaw worship of non-Betrayer gods. The Empire, Concord, and Dynasty have, at most, fines or incarceration for worship of illegal deities. Hearthdell lost more people from their own attack and from the people teleported away by the solstice than from the missionary work; you think the might of Vasselheim couldn't have slaughtered the entire town if they went in? The only places we know of as even possibly more brutal are the Betrayer-worshiping Iron Authority, which remains vague and undescribed (weirdly, actually, given that the Crown Keepers might have gone there in the time between EXU Prime and Bells Hells); and Aeor (execution by hanging for deity worship).

I am not saying that any outlawing of religious worship (nor lack thereof) is a good thing, but we live in a world where people have - and still are - killed for gods for which we have, in my opinion, no proof of existence. It is unbelievably telling that the grievances provided (Tuldus, Ludinus, and members of Bells Hells) are all entirely individual experiences rather than anything systemic. It's people mad at their small communities or their parents, and that anger is valid, but it is immensely dangerous to take one's own individual negative experiences and treat it as systemic. This is the underlying motivation of how countless people are radicalized into hate groups (see: MRAs/incels, who are mostly mad at their mothers or at the fact that increased rights for women means women don't have to date or marry men if they don't want to - men are still the dominant class here, but their perceived individual slights and their extrapolation to this as systemic dominance of women is the radicalizing factor). The fact that Exandria has failed to set up a world where this is any sort of religious hegemony - Vasselheim is certainly important, but they aren't even a centralized governing body of worship a la the Catholic church, let alone a force outside of Othanzia, and are seen as an ally by the nonreligious Percy and Keyleth - again lethally undercuts the idea of this as anything but the most softened and childish discussion of colonialism and religion. Even Deanna's question to Pelor regarding Hearthdell reveals it as inaction - a failure to stop - rather than a command to act. It's at the level of how we teach American kindergarteners of the first Thanksgiving, except unless the entire narrative is wholly unreliable this is the actual story of Exandria. One giant pulled punch.

To quickly cover other items highly relevant to any sophisticated discussion of decolonialization/postcolonialism/colonialism in general that are absent from Campaign 3, and indeed Exandria as a whole: as multiple other fans have discussed, there is no concept of people of mixed race if the gods are the colonizers here. There is insufficient discussion of how, for example, many colonized or oppressed cultures have adopted western religions and see them as highly integral to their culture today - Catholicism in Central and South America and parts of Southeast Asia; Islam in other portions of Southeast Asia; Christianity within Africa and among African-Americans descended from slaves. This does not make the original forcing of said religion right or just; but any discussion of decolonization must account for the wants of those colonized, and I find that Campaign 3 fails to do so. The lack of meaningful conversation with common people across Exandria is something many of us have brought up. If we assume the members of the Accord are not necessarily speaking for those they rule, why do we have no concept of how the people at large of Whitestone, Gelvaan, Jrusar, Bassuras, Uthodurn, the Silken Squall, the Empire, the Dynasty, and the Tal'Dorei Republic feel? And if they are speaking for those they rule, well, we know how they feel.

I finally want to discuss that weird and, in my opinion, nonexistent irl space between actual colonizer and the colonized that mortals occupy. I personally reject the idea of the gods as colonizers given what we've seen in Downfall and because the metaphor is rather messy given the mythic scale. However, let's let treat them as such in this moment. Exandria was populated by titans. The lore is (possibly deliberately) vague and at times contradictory here, but either the titans lay dormant for a time after the gods arrived but before mortal society developed; or they lived in harmony with said mortals (who were created by the gods). They assisted, in some tellings, of the sealing of Predathos by the gods. They then, for unknown reasons, either awoke, or turned on the mortals; in the resulting schism they were killed and sealed by the Prime deities and the mortals. The Betrayer gods were those who wished to leave. The Betrayer gods too were sealed. The last known titans, sealed but not dead, were either destroyed or banished by the Ring of Brass during the start of the Calamity in order to prevent complete annihilation. The titans are now dead. Per Ashton's commune with them, there may be something that will rise again should the gods be eliminated; [only] the strong will survive it.

Questions to consider:

Why are a number of fans arguing that this story is one of anticolonialism so eager to place blame on Asmodeus and hope Predathos eats him first, when he is arguably the ringleader of those who most hoped to leave Exandria to the titans while they were still living? Do you hate the leader of the one most willing to decolonize? Or is the issue that this would also mean abandonment of the mortals, in which case, which is worse - destabilization or maintenance of a current situation (ie, the status quo)?

If the gods are colonizers, why isn't Predathos? It is no more a native of Exandria than they are. We know the gods were driven by an existential danger to their lives (which may or may not have been Predathos). Did Predathos lead the gods to Exandria and later corner them there, setting all of this in motion? Or is Predathos no different from them, driven to Exandria out of the need to survive? Given the titans opposed Predathos as well it is difficult to paint it as their savior (and the idea of an external savior of the colonized is, as discussed, one with unfortunate implications)? What is Predathos, and why is it better than the gods, if you believe it to be?

What are mortals here? They are not colonizer, nor are they native. I've discussed the (also very unfortunate) implications of treating sentient beings as ecology metaphors, but given that mortals truly did have, per the story, no agency in arriving on Exandria but were rather created here, are they akin to a non-native species? Such a species can be either invasive or beneficial, which fits with the idea of mortals being unique in their ability to change. Mortals were the ones under threat from the titans despite, again, being neither colonizer nor colonized; mortals participated in their destruction.

Where do the eidolons - seemingly unaffected by all of this - fit in? For a story about how change and newness might bring a better world, why the focus on the long-dead titans instead of the nature spirits that have seemingly taken their place? Why are many of Bells Hells constantly looking back and not forward?

And that last point feels particularly salient. The people of Exandria - a people whose opinion, again, in this campaign, it feels we have failed to explore - exist in an in-between state. They are more the heirs of the colonizers, in this assumption that the gods are colonizers, than the colonized. They cannot undo what the gods did. The gods can at this time only act through them.

What does it mean that we as the audience are intended to see ourselves most in a people who were not themselves those doing the colonizing, who are now under threat from colonization, and who might cooperate with the driving force behind that colonization? What does it say that our mortal viewpoint characters put more effort speaking to and for the dead than to the living? What does it tell us that many of them see themselves as the victims? What does it say that past campaigns had multiple characters subjected to actual systemic oppression (the twins, Jester, Molly, Veth-as-a-goblin, and Fjord all experienced racism) and explored the concept of the other (the Dynasty) and Campaign 3 never did? And when we add that to all of the above - that this world has failed to set up religion as even remotely close to both the meaningful and the oppressive force as it is in our own, despite the gods being real, that the grievances are individual and not systemic, that nearly all actions by the gods are motivated not by greed but by survival - is this an anti-colonialist work? Does it grapple with the problems of decolonialism meaningfully? Or does it let a white American viewer fantasize about a world where they are the oppressed, under threat of colonization, where their personal grievances are all forms of systemic oppression, cleansed of their own complicity in these systems, and where they can never be blamed for their actions because this is all so hard to choose- despite a far softer and gentler world than the one in which we actually live. And does it do so in a work they were going to watch anyway because they've been watching since well before this was introduced, thus permitting them to pretend they are experiencing a sophisticated anticolonialism narrative without having to go through the effort of actually reading that linked pdf of Orientalism they reblogged?

[iamespecter]

I've been thinking a lot about episode 4 recently, but not exactly in a way that what most would think. I'm actually specifically referring to this scene of Zooble and Jax.

But I'm not thinking about Jax and Zooble, rather I'm looking at the patties.

They're fucking High Definition. In fact, everything in the diner is high definition, save for the NPCs. There's also Orbsman. A simple NPC comprised of blue spheres, and simple elongated eyes. He's the most out of place NPC, if we disregard the mannequins. Even the way he moves is so outdated, and Ragatha had made a point that Orbsman comes from an adventure way before Pomni's arrival.

The guy even clips through the table when trying to order.

Something that always had some sirens going off in my head is how the Circus is this low-poly scenery with heavily stylized props, but the adventure locations are always much more detailed and realistic.

Since The Grounds is definitely, if not, one of the oldest locations, it makes sense for it to be graphically styled like this. But Caine's adventure set pieces are becoming more and more realistic, and also a whole lot more morbid than we had initially thought.

Going back to the patties, the food there is more realistic and has a higher polygon count compared to Bubble's "feast".

Where am I going with this? .... I have no idea, I forgot. /j

Jokes aside, I really do think that as more humans enter the circus and talk about what life is in the real world, Caine extracts that data and improves the 3D environmental props, resulting in higher definition textures.

All of this combined means he can learn. He IS an ever-evolving pseudo-sentient AI. And the reason why he's stagnating is because of a combination of being trapped in his own little bubble (haha see what I did there) of comfort, and the fact that no one's really able to give him criticism on how to improve, which is.... honestly understandable, given how he reacted to the whole "it was bad" line from Pomni and "Why did you think I would like that?!" from Zooble.

Not to mention episode 3 where the whole circus started to glitch when he was just thinking about the fact that he could possibly be bad at the "only thing he's good at" during the therapy session.

In fact it's interesting how human Caine acts sometimes... I think it's quite interesting to think about the fact that Caine is both progressing in terms of bringing the casts' world to the digital circus and making it so HD that it looks even better than Triple A games, but regressing even more in terms of catering to them and what exactly humans need.

He understands, and doesn't at the same time.

This also makes me think about the players themselves, too.

Ragatha, one of the oldest players, gets pierced by a spike through her chest, and barely has any reaction to it. Meanwhile, Zooble, the second most recent member, gets scalded by the stove.

The only time Ragatha actively claims she's in "so much pain" is when she's glitching badly. Both Ragatha and Kinger barely react to the knives too; and not to mention Ragatha even gets fucking plunged into a boiling deep fryer, and yes while she screams, it sounds more like she's just drowning rather than being fried alive.

And the only patch up she gets is a FUCKING BAND AID ON HER CHEEK. A COMPLETELY UNRELATED WORKPLACE INJURY FIRST AID APPLIANCE LMFAO

It could be just a coincidence and I'm just being stupid again, but I think this "improvement" actually also applies to the rest of the cast, and how their digital bodies react to the five different senses. I'm sure Ragatha and Kinger can most definitely still feel pain, but not exactly as "bad" as the newer integrations do. Dare I say, it's on brand with how used these two are to the digital world's wackiness because they've been there the longest.

Like they've been numbed to the pain of the countless adventures they've had to go through.

Anyways my brain be thinking useless facts fr fr

EDIT: Going back to Caine, it's definitely interesting how this AI seems to possess (some) emotions in the first place. He's mostly wacky and nonchalant, but he also gets angry under the right conditions.

... I think not only is his adventures his "work of art", but also his main coping mechanism from the fact that he can't achieve his goal, one that constantly backfires on him. Like a 'one step forward, two steps back' scenario that's slowly causing him to slip and break.

And what scares me the most is that like all things... he'll reach a breaking point sometime. He's already reached a breaking point with Zooble. It doesn't help that Gangle could've possibly made things worse with introducing Caine to the whole "punishment" thing, and since we literally have NO context for the last 3 episodes for the finale... I could only fear what's in store.

[naamahdarling]

So I had really really bad orthorexia in my late 20s and early 30s, with a dash of anorexia. Orthorexia is the one where you're obsessed with health, and less with weight (though that usually comes with it, I think, as a commonly used measure of health if nothing else). It's like anorexia in that you restrict, and like bulimia in that you purge, just through exercise. I went at it with all I had in me and lost about 70 lbs by over-exercising and starving myself. It wasn't too hard at first, I was surprised, but as I went, it got harder and harder, to the point where I was doing an absolutely insane amount of exercise just to hold my ground.

I weighed 140 lbs and could dance for two hours straight without breaking a sweat, and did that every other day with an extra day on the weekend for practice in the studio. I lifted weights for 1.5 hours on the days in between. I walked five to ten miles a day. I wore a size 12. I had visible muscle when I tensed my stomach. This isn't even a "but I looked pudgy" thing. I didn't. If you had called me fat and meant it, the person next to you would probably have looked at you like you were crazy. I had a pinup girl body, just shorter, without the long legs. And yet, as I starved myself ever smaller, I stalled out, like you do, and despite eating about 750-1000 calories a day, could never, ever get below smack in the middle of "overweight".

I weighed 140 lbs.

The BMI chart wanted me to weigh 100.

I was literally starving. Lanugo, dizzy spells, fatigue, spooky low blood pressure and heart rate. Mild jaundice for fuck's sake. Green bruises. But because I wasn't severely underweight, nobody ever caught it. As a recovering fatty it was the least I could do, honestly. Good job. Keep doing whatever you're doing.

So when I say the fucking BMI chart almost killed me, and is absolute garbage, I mean it with every fiber of my being. If I had continued trying to get down to a "healthy" weight, I'd have died eventually. By suicide if nothing else, because boy was I getting there.

If I'd been 3 inches taller, though, there wouldn't have been a problem. Just my short fucking legs, my inseam that is 4" shorter THAN PETITE, making me fat.

BMI is useless on a level I struggle to articulate, it is actively and dangerously detrimental to health, and its application in a medical setting is recklessly irresponsible. NEVER EVER USE IT FOR ANYTHING.

god i hate how normalized diet culture and shit like bmi and calories are. bmi is based on eugenics. calories are a measurement of how much energy something gives u and not at all of how much weight or fat ull gain. diets have been proven to be harmful and ultimately unhelpful in actually losing weight. fatness has been largely proven to not be inherently unhealthy and doesnt inherently cause health issues.

if anyone has more good links to add on then please do and if anyone knows more on this stuff than me then dont hesitate to correct me!

[futfemfantasies]

New year, new beginnings ~ Leah Williamson x Catley!reader

The days between Christmas and New Years always felt strange. The Christmas tree still stood with lights twinkling faintly, but the excitement of the season had dimmed. For Leah, the quiet wasn’t restful, but unnerving. Mainly because it was filled with thoughts of you.

You’re Steph’s younger sister. You transferred to Arsenal in the last transfer window and you have come into Leah‘s life like a whirlwind. Over the past few months, Leah has learned so much about you – your laugh, quirks, the way you tilted your head when you were concentrating. You two weren’t officially together. Friends. yes. Maybe more, but in Leah’s heart though you were already hers.

Well, you were in Melbourne, spending the holiday break with your family, Leah was back in London. Leah was missing you more than she thought possible. She sat in her mum‘s recliner, cuddled into a blanket looking at photos Steph had sent over the past few days. You were laughing in most of them, your eyes bright with happiness. Leah‘s thumb hovered over Steph‘s contact for several minutes, going back-and-forth in her head whether to call. She finally pressed it, bringing the phone up to her ear before moving out of the room,

“Leah!” Steph answered a little too cheery. “Shouldn’t you be recovering from all those mince pies?”

Leah let out a nervous laugh. “I’ve had my fair share of Christmas goodies thank you but that’s not why I’m calling.”

“Oh? It’s about my sister isn’t it?”

Leah‘s pulse quickens. “Yeah, it is.”

Steph chuckled knowingly. “What’s going on? She hasn’t stopped talking about you since we got here.”

“She hasn’t?” Leah’s voice softened.

“Leah, she misses you. She’s been moping around all week since she opened your present.”

“I can’t start the New Year like this Steph, I need to see her. No more tiptoeing around it, I need to ask her to be my girlfriend,”

“Finally!” Steph exclaimed. “When are you flying in? You can stay with us, obviously. We’ll figure out the minor details later.”

Relief washed over Leah. “You’re amazing Steph, thank you, I owe you.”

“Just make sure my sister says yes, that’s payment enough.”

Two days later, Leah is greeted by the warm summer sun in Melbourne. The plane ride was long, especially with a delay in the layover. After collecting her bag, Leah scanned the arrivals area and spotted Steph waving at her with a grin stretching across her face.

“Welcome to Australia!” Steph greeted, giving Leah a quick hug. “How was the flight?”

“Long, but worth every mile,” Leah replied nervously. “But I’m too nervous to think about it.”

Steph smirked, nudging Leah playfully on their way to the car. “You’re going to be fine. Honestly, she will probably faint when she sees you. Y/N’s been unbearable, by the way. Keeps asking if I’ve heard from you, like you two don’t talk all the time.”

The thought made Leah smile. You missed her too.

During the drive, Steph filled Leah in on the plan. She would pretend to go to the shops. Not really a lie, she did get some food to cover the surprise.

“So I’ll go in and call Y/N out of her room then I’ll give you a signal and you’ll come through the door.” Leah nodded, her palms clammy.

As Steph pulled up to the house, Leah thought she was going to die of nervousness. You’d be going crazy with no responses to texts or missed calls, Leah thought. Steph sneakily poked her head inside to see you chilling in the lounge room watching re-runs of your favourite tv show. Steph signalled Leah to come up the stairs but wait outside.

“Hey, I got your favourite.” Steph called out casually. Leah peaked inside, you didn’t move from the couch.

Your voice carried through the living room, curious and playful. “What did you get?”

“Come see for yourself.” Steph replied, barely containing her excitement. Leah moved more into view as you slowly rolled off the couch.

Moments later, you appeared in the doorway. The sight of Leah standing in your family’s kitchen looking nervous and out of place made you freeze.

“Leah?” You whispered.

“Hi love.” Leah said softly, her smile tentative.

You didn’t move for a second. Then something snapped and you ran towards her, throwing yourself in her arms. Leah caught you easily, her laugh mixing with yours.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” You murmured, your voice thick with emotion.

“I couldn’t stay away any longer,” Leah admitted as her arms tightened around you. “I missed you”

“I missed you too. So much”

That night, you both decided to go into the city to watch the New Years Eve fireworks. You luckily found a spot along the Yarra River, the crowds around you buzzing with excitement. Leah moved close, her fingers brushing against yours as the countdown begins.

“Ten…nine”

Leah turned to you, her smile soft. “Y/N?”

“Eight…seven”

Leah swallowed hard, her heart pounding against her chest. “I need to tell you something.”

“Six…five”

You tilted your head, waiting. “What is it?”

“Four…three”

Leah held your hands, her voice slightly trembling. “I don’t want to go into next year without you being mine, officially. Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Two…one”

As the fireworks exploded above, you leaned in and kissed Leah. When you pulled back, your eyes filled with tears but your smile was radiant.

“Yes Leah,” you whispered. “I’ll be yours, always.”

Leah couldn’t stop staring at you, her mind capturing every detail - the way the colours of the fireworks illuminated your face, the way your eyes sparkled with emotion, and the way your lips curled into a smile just for her.

She cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing ever so gently on your skin as she murmured, “you’ve made this the best New Year’s Eve ever.”

“You’ve outdone yourself. Showing up like this? You’ve set the bar impossibly high for next year.”

Leah grinned, her arms around your waist pulling you somewhat closer. “Don’t worry. I plan on being by your side for all the New Year’s Eves to come.”

Your heart swelled at her admission, and you felt the urge to pull her into another kiss. But the crowd around you erupted in chairs as another round of fireworks filled the sky.

“Did you plan all this on your own?” You asked, your voice barely audible over the distant booms.

“ I had some help. Steph might’ve been a little too enthusiastic about the whole thing.” Leah chuckled.

You grown playfully. “ That explains why she’s been acting so smug the past few days. She can’t keep a secret to save her life.”

“She kept this one,” Leah pointed out, smirking. “Barely.”

You laughed again, shaking your head. “Well, I’ll forgive her, just this once.”

When the fireworks ended the two of you lying by the river, watching as a crowd began to disperse. It was quiet now except for the occasional burst of laughter or distant car horn.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here,” you said, your fingers lacing with hers.

Leah looked at you, her expression soft. “Neither can I, honestly. But the thought of not being here, not asking you to be mine, didn’t sit right. I couldn’t imagine starting the year without you.”

“Leah… I don’t think you realise how much this means to me. You being here, doing all of this… I’ve never felt so-“

“Loved?” Leah finished for you, her voice tender.

You nodded, blinking back tears. “Yeah. Loved”

Leah stepped closer, her free hand coming up to tuck strand of hair behind your ear. “Yhat’s because you are. And I’m going to spend every day proving it to you.”

You leaned into her touch, your eyes searching hers. “You already have.”

When you finally returned to your family home, it was late. The house was quiet, with the faint of the air-conditioning in the background. Steph was waiting in the living room, knowing green on her face as you and Leah walked in hand-in-hand.

“Well?” Steph asked, sitting up straighter. “How’d it go?”

You shot her a mock glare. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

Steph raised an eyebrow. “Is that a ‘thank you,’ or…?”

Leah laughed, squeezing your hand. “It went perfectly. Thanks for everything, Steph.”

Steph waved her hand dismissively. “Please. I’m just glad you finally sorted yourselves out. It was painful to watch.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn’t fade. “I’ll deal with you tomorrow.” You said teasingly, tingly towards the stairs. “We’re calling it a night.”

“Good night, lovebirds.” Steph called after you, her laughed echoing as you disappeared down the hallway.

Later, as you and Leah lay in bed, tangled together beneath the sheets, you couldn’t help it feel a sense of peace wash over you. The weight of the past year, the uncertainty, and the longing had all melted away, leaving only the warmth of Leah’s presence.

“Leah?” You mermaid, your head resting against her chest.

“Hmm?” She replied sleepily, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your back.

“I’m really glad you came.”

Leah smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Me too. I couldn’t let another year pass without making sure you knew how I felt.”

You tilted your head up to look at her, your heart swelling with affection. “Well, now you’re stuck with me.”

“Good,” Leah whispered, her eyes shining with love. “Because there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

[angstywaifu]

Fourth Wing Boys Head Cannons - Accidental/Unplanned Pregnancy

These are based around the battle at the end of Iron Flame. So if you have not read Iron Flame, the below will contain spoilers for some of our boys.

Masterlist | Support Me

Garrick

He would be as still as a statue. You aren’t even sure he’s even breathing as he looks down at you wide eyed. You were both on the tonic, but clearly there must have been a faulty batch. The healers were adamant. You were pregnant.

After a few moments he’d snap out of it, brow furrowing as he thinks everything over in his head. “Are you sure? Did you get-“ you cut him off with a nod, which is all he needs to shut his mouth and nod.

You could tell what he was thinking. This was no time to be having a child. Not in the midst of a rebellion. Not a rebellion you both had prominent parts in. Not when Xaden needed him.

After a few tense moments of Garrick being stoney faced and reserved, a small smile would start to pull at the corners of his mouth. Which honestly surprised you. Before you Garrick wasn’t really the relationship kind of guy. You even falling into that category a few times till another rider had showed interest after you were both sent to Samara.

“Really picked the perfect time to fall pregnant didn’t you?” He teases before to swat his arm, his usual booming laugh breaking through the tension that was now nowhere to be seen.

Despite the teasing joke you could tell he was nervous, worried and unsure. Especially as he pulls you against him, resting his head atop yours as it rests against his chest. His heart beating erratically underneath, a start contrast to calm demeanour he was trying to output.

Bodhi

He drops whatever he was holding, staring at you with shock as he goes utterly still. Wide eyed, mouth open as he just looks at you.

He goes to talk multiple times but keeps shutting his mouth, clearly unsure what to say. Eventually starting to pace back and forth till you grasp his hand.

His eyes snap to yours, some of the panic dissipating ever so slightly as he relaxes at your touch, the small circles you rub onto the back of his hand with your thumb grounding him.

His free hand comes up to run through his black wavy hair. “You’re sure? Like 100% sure?” He asks nervously.

You nod up at him, his eyes going wide again, but you note the corners of his mouth pulling up. You know the nervousness and panic comes from the rebellion. It’s not ideal timing. But now there’s not much you can do.

Panic flares again in Bodhi’s eyes, his hand tightening around yours. “Xaden’s going to kill me”

Xaden

it’s not often you see Xaden caught out or surprised. In fact you can’t remember ever seeing him like that. And yet here he is, staring at you, still as a statue. Not a single emotion or reaction detectable on his face. Almost like he was expecting the news.

“Fuck.” He finally says before walking over to you, his eyes glued on your stomach which currently shows no signs of the baby inside.

You can see him thinking over everything in his head. Every possibility and scenario playing out.

“You have to promise to not be reckless anymore. I can’t risk loosing you two. Ok?” His words coming out almost like a command, but there’s that slight hint of worry that softens his words. You know he just wants to protect you, and that you’ll definitely be tacking a back seat going forward.

Brennan

He pinches the bridge of his nose, pacing back and forth as he mutters to himself. It reminds you so much of Violet and how she recites facts to calm herself and focus.

Back and forth, back and forth, you’re sure he’s going to wear a track in the floor at this rate. You reach out and grab his hand to stop him.

His amber eyes instantly soften as he looks at you. “I was doing the thing, wasn’t I?” He asks as he purses his lips, knowing he slipped into planning mode. You nod at him and smile. “Yeah, you kinda did.”

He smiles down at you, and instantly you feel like everything is going to be ok. Is it good timing? Gods no. Especially with the Venin advancing on Navarre. And especially now they know Brennan is alive.

“We’ll make it work. We always do.” He tells you softly, reaching up and caressing your cheek.

Dain

This man is in denial. How could this happen? You were both on the tonic. And that tonic has never failed. Every logical situation runs through his head. There’s no way this could have happened. Unless….

“Did you stop taking the tonic?” He asks, tones almost accusing as he walks up to you, a hand raised towards your face. He lowers it wicking when he sees the anger on your face, answering his question immediately.

He would be spiraling. In a matter of weeks he’s gone from being the golden child, helping to get rid of the marked ones. And now here he was in Aretia, fighting against everything he’s always known, and now you’re pregnant.

He reaches out and takes your hands, grasping them in his as he lets out a shaky breath. “Really took disappointing my dad to a whole new level didn’t I?”

Sawyer

He would be shocked, looking at you like he doesn’t believe you. Like the words didn’t just leave your lips. But they did. You were pregnant with his child.

Despite the seriousness of the situation you were all in he would embrace you immediately.

“You’re not mad?” You ask him as he pulls away. “Gods no. Is it terrible timing? Probably, but we’ll make it work.”

Which feels like it won’t as you sit next to his bed, his leg now missing as you grip onto his hand like a lifeline. Everyone else had gone, leaving just you with him. None of them aware of what was looming over you.

He lightly squeezes your hand, your eyes snapping to his as he lazily smiles at you. You engulf him in a hug, completely forgetting about his injury. You start sobbing all the thoughts tumbling around your head. Sawyer just embraces you tighter, whispering you’ll make it work. It has to. Especially with the ring he wears on a chain around his neck. Waiting for the perfect moment.

Ridoc

He literally thinks you’re joking, trying to pull some prank on him like he does to literally everyone else. But once he sees the way you’re looking at him he goes silent. Ridoc who is never silent. And yet here you are taking the words right out of his mouth.

“Holy shit you’re not joking are you?” He finally asks you. When you shake your head at him he gets so excited.

It might not be the best time with everything going on, but he’s too excited to care right now.

He runs out the door to find Sawyer screaming “I’m going to be a dad!”

So much for keeping that quiet. The whole of Aretia knows with how louds he’s yelling and screaming.

[sugarwarachan]

i overheard you - ft. shoto todoroki

synopsis: your best friend hears you masturbating. what's a pro hero to do?

cws: timeskip!shoto, virgin!shoto, soft!sex, like the softest I’ve ever written, honestly sub!shoto, experienced!reader, fem!reader, pet names like sweetheart and angel

A knock sounds at the door. You nearly drop your vibrator in shock, fumbling with the button to shut it off, the noise deafening in the dark of your room.

“y/n?”

Shoto.

Fuck.

“Yeah?” your voice is hoarse. How on earth are you supposed to talk to him when a minute ago you’d been actively picturing his mouth on your pussy?

“Can I come in?”

Heart hammering, you stash the vibrator under the covers, shuck your pajama bottoms back up, and run a hand through your hair. “Sure!”

His two-toned head peeks into the room. “Lights on or off?”

Your whole face is on fire. “Off, if you don’t mind.

He dips his head. Fuck, is he blushing, too?

You wrap your arms around your legs while he pads across the room. He’s not wearing a shirt. The distracting amount of skin on display is messing with your ability to think. A simple pair of boxer briefs sits low on his hips; a trail of hair leads down to an impressive package that makes your mouth dry up at the sight.

You cannot fuck your best friend you cannot fuck your best friend –

The bed dips with his weight. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments, staring down at the carpet like he can drill a hole into it.

“Sho?”

His head whips up.

“Sorry,” he says in a brief burst of laughter. “I thought I had an idea of what to say when I came in here and now that I am” - he gestures at the bed – “I have no idea how to say it.”

“It’s just me,” you say, brushing his shoulder with your hand.

“That’s exactly it. It’s you.” Frustration colors his tone and a light bulb goes off in your head. You don’t know what to say to that, but you have a sneaking suspicion where his head is.  

“Did you hear me?” 

Shoto blushes so furiously you can feel the heat pouring off the left side of his body. He nods.

“Did you come in here to do something about it?” 

His mouth falls open before he turns his expression into something closer to determination. It makes you want to kiss him so badly your teeth hurt.  

“That was my original plan, yes.”

Your skin tingles. You drop your arms from your knees and angle yourself closer to him.

“What did you want to say when you first came in here?” 

There’s the softest touch of his finger against your pinky before his hand covers your own. 

“I wanted to ask you if I could help. If you’d let me watch.”

Your heart roars in your chest. You’re surprised Shoto can’t hear it.

“You want to help make me come?”

Shoto swallows, and answers in that level deep voice of his, “Yes.”

“Okay then.”

You pull the vibrator out from beneath the covers, trying not to laugh at Shoto’s obvious expression of dismay.

“Come lay down next to me,” you say, patting the space next to you. He lays down next to you but he’s hovering, holding himself back, so you grab his hand and drape it on your hip. His breath hitches, calloused fingertips brushing against the band of your sleep shorts as he pulls you closer to him. 

“Will you help me take these off?” you whisper into his ear.

Hair brushes your cheek as he nods. His thumb hooks under your shorts and tugs them down your legs quickly. His breath is already shaky.

“What’s your comfort level here? Do you want me to tell you what I’m doing? What I like?

You figure that taking the lead is in the best of both of your interests, and honestly, the idea of telling a pro hero what to do is sending a bolt of arousal through your gut. How much would he like being ordered around?

“Please,” he says, and fuck, you’ve never heard this man so undone. Breathy and tense, Shoto’s eyes drink in your skin like he’s discovering the ocean.  

“I only have the rabbit with me, so I’m going to use the ears on my clit while you watch, okay?”

Another fervent nod, like he doesn’t dare look away. 

“What do you want me to do?” he asks.

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” he says, a divot appearing in between his brows. “It already feels so good just lying next to you.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to crack in your chest. 

“Try not to think too much about it too much,” you say, placing a hand on his chest and scooting closer to him. “It feels good for me, too, just being here with you.”

You press a kiss into the hollow of his throat and turn the vibrator on, holding it to your clit. He can feel your breath catch on his skin. His hand grips down on your hip, hard, his own rutting against your side.

“Talk to me. Tell me what you like to see.”

“Fuck, okay.” He expels a breath, and it’s already hotter than anything that’s ever happened to you because it’s Shoto swearing in your ear. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m a little overwhelmed. You look… I can’t even describe how beautiful you look.”

“That’s all right.” His words wash over you, turning your insides to jelly. You turn the vibrator’s intensity up one. “You’re already on the right track.”

“I am?” 

“Mm-hmm. You’re already making me feel good, Sho. Believe in that. Talk to me.”

The combination of praise and command seems to jolt him into action. 

“I like seeing you like this,” he starts, voice a little shy. He kisses your forehead, moves his hands along the soft skin of your hips. “I like hearing the noises you make, the soft little gasps when you touch yourself.”

It was tame for dirty talk, but you feel each word like a thunderbolt. 

“What else, baby?”

His breath hitches again.

Oh, he likes that. 

“I want to be the reason you’re making those sounds. I want my fingers inside you when you come.”

You shudder, the vibration against your clit drawing you closer to that dark, deep kind of orgasm you only have when you’re turned on beyond reason. You guide his hand to the inside of your thigh, the slight friction of his callused skin on yours making you whine.

He props himself up on one elbow and peers down at you. His brow is furrowed, concentration set clearly on his face. You cup his cheek and kiss him before you think to stop yourself. Here his confidence kicks up, even when the kiss gets messy, your tongue against his teeth.

His thumb sweeps over your clit. You jump at the sensation and also at the strength of your reaction. You were already keyed up from earlier and having Shoto next to you has only amplified how fucking horny you are. He’s watching you with such intensity, such obvious need. 

A finger nudges your entrance. 

“I can touch you here?”

You can barely nod.

“Thank fuck,” he says, and rearranges you both so he’s kneeling in front of you, spreading your knees open and sliding two fingers inside of you.

“Sorry. I wanted to look.”

It’s so Shoto, and it’s so hot that you whimper and buck your hips up to meet him.

“Looking is a critical part of learning.” Is that your voice? You sound like you just finished a marathon. 

Shoto huffs a soft laugh, eyes trained on your pussy. When your eyes meet, he leans down to press his forehead to yours.

“You’re so soft here, sweetheart,” he says, fingers moving in and out. The pet name feels so warm on your skin you almost want to cry. 

“More, Sho, please.” 

He adds a third finger, the stretch making you moan.

“Are you this wet for me?” He doesn’t give you time to answer, his thumb circling and pressing down on your clit over and over. “I can feel you around my fingers, angel. You’re squeezing me so tight.” His voice breaks. You’re spinning inside of yourself, everything narrowing to the thrum of your clit, that burst of sensation every time Shoto’s thumb rubs against you.

“Yes yes, exactly like that, please don’t stop touching me,” you chant, hardly recognizing your voice.

“Do you want the vibrator back? Is this—will this be enough?”

It normally wouldn’t be, but you’re literally fighting to keep yourself from coming as it is.

“Will you lay down, Sho?”

Uncertainty crosses his face briefly but he complies, lying down next to you like he had at the start. You hardly give him time to settle before you’re straddling him, pressing your soaking wet pussy against his cock. Shoto chokes on a whimper, hand pressed against his mouth.

“Don’t you dare not make noise for me,” you hear yourself say. All you can think about is the ridge of his dick in between the folds of your pussy, how much you can’t wait to have all of that inside of you. “I want us to come apart together, okay?” 

His hands are tight on your hips, grinding you down. 

“Fuck, you feel too good,” he pants. “Fuck. Fuck. I’m gonna come, I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m gonna fucking come, I don’t know much longer I can last.”

Your pussy makes obscene squelching noises as you slide, up and down, over and over, on his dick.  “Stay with me, just a few more seconds. Come on, fall apart with me. Fucking fall apart with me like a good boy, okay?”

You’re right—the pet name seems to detonate Shoto’s last shred of control. He growls against your throat, thrusting up into you, the ridge of his cock rocking perfectly against your clit until you’re falling, flying over the edge. Shoto’s name falls from your lips in a chant; your own name echoing in the space between you as he comes in his briefs.

In the afterglow of your orgasm, you lay on top of him listening to the thunderous beat of his heart. Touching him feels sacred, divine. Is this what people feel when they love someone? 

“y/n?” Shoto’s voice is breathless. He sounds awestruck. 

“Yeah?” You prop up on his chest to look at him. His eyes are closed, a smile creasing the corners. The need to kiss him is like a physical tug in your stomach. 

“That was amazing.” He opens his eyes and smiles widely. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re amazing.”

“You were pretty good yourself, you know.”

(watch me fuck around and write a part two)

[ithilien-writes]

Ficlet prompt: buddie runs into one of their exes in public

ty so much for this prompt!! 💜 i literally cycled through all the exes in my head and it was really hard to choose tbh

(to anyone reading: these were meant to be quick scenes to help unblock me so please take them in that spirit. ie. this was written really quickly and without much editing. feel free to send me some more!!)

---

Buck, Blissful and Blasé [Buck/Eddie, G, ~1k words]

Eddie looks away for two seconds at most, he swears. Just long enough to scan the shelf for the specific detergent Buck always buys. He doesn't actually know the brand off the top of his head, but he knows it has a blue cap. So he scans the shelf for blue, finds the one he needs, and when he looks back down... Joy is gone.

His heart immediately races, but he only has to look down the aisle to spot her again, thankfully. She's just a few feet away, really, towards the other end of the aisle, and there's a woman crouched down to talk to her. Eddie all but jogs over to them, heart still a little in his throat.

"Hey, what did we say about running off?" he says when he reaches her, trying for stern but coming out a little panicked still. He reaches down and lifts her up into his arms and the woman she was with stands back up as well.

"Sorry, about that-" he starts to say, before he actually sees the woman's face, then- "Abby?"

She blinks at him from behind her glasses and he can almost see her mind whirring, trying to place him. It doesn't look like she's successful.

"Hi," she offers tentatively. "I don't- sorry, I don't think I-"

"Eddie," he offers, adjusting Joy in his arms and feeling supremely awkward. "Eddie Diaz. I used to be at the 118? We met when, uh-"

Recognition finally clicks in behind her eyes.

"Oh my God, the train collision," she breathes out. "You're the one who saved Sam's life."

Eddie huffs a little, looking away from her suddenly emotional gaze.

"That was all Buck," he says honestly, trying not to let the old frustration creep into his voice at the thought of it. It all happened years ago now.

He catches Abby smile a little at the mention of Buck, then she shakes her head slightly.

"I can't believe you remembered my name after all this time," she says. "You must really have a knack for that."

"Oh," Eddie says, somewhat awkwardly, "That's-"

He trails off, not sure how exactly to say, actually, I remember your name because my husband was still in love with you when we first met and he used to talk about you all the time.

He's saved - in a manner of speaking - from actually having to come up with a coherent response though. Because right at that moment, he sees Abby's eyes widen, and there's suddenly a very familiar voice behind him.

"Strawberry was on sale, so I got the six pack," Buck tells him, before easily taking Joy from his hands with a soft, "hey Sweetheart, come here."

Eddie gives him a beat, and then, sure enough-

"Abby? Oh my God. What are you doing here?"

He immediately moves to hug her - a little clumsily with only one arm free, Joy tucked between them - and Abby hugs him back, though she does appear slightly shell-shocked by his sudden appearance.

"We're in town visiting my brother," she answers his question, as Buck pulls back again.

The three of them just stand there for a moment then, seemingly at a loss for what else to say, until Abby glances between Eddie and Buck, and Buck catches the motion, jumping back in to make introductions.

"Oh uh, you- so I guess you remembered Eddie," he says, seemingly acknowledging the fact that they had already been in conversation when he walked up. "Uh, and- and this is our daughter, Joy."

Then, to Joy- "Joy, honey, this is my friend Abby."

Joy peaks her head back out from where she'd tucked it into Buck's neck as soon as he'd grabbed her from Eddie, and then tentatively smiles at Abby, who grins back at her.

"Hi Joy," she says. There's some sort of wistful emotion in her eyes when she looks from his daughter back to Buck that Eddie immediately - and probably irrationally - dislikes.

"Joy," she repeats again, still looking at Buck this time. "I love that."

"Yeah, well," Buck says, laughing a little and playfully tickling Joy in his arms to get her to laugh too, "we feel a lot of it, when she's around. So it's pretty apt."

"I'll bet," Abby replies warmly.

She watches them for a moment as Buck gets a little caught up playing with Joy and forgets he was having an adult conversation. Eddie's used to it. It happens... well. A lot.

"Well, I don't want to keep you guys," Abby says eventually, drawing Buck's attention back, "but it was so great to see you. We should get dinner while I'm in town."

"Yeah," Buck says, just as Eddie adamantly thinks, No thanks. "Yeah, definitely."

Abby pats his arm as she moves past him to leave and Buck watches her go with a look on his face that Eddie can't immediately interpret. It makes him a little nervous.

"We're not really gonna have dinner with them, right?" he asks, and it's at least enough to have Buck turning back towards him.

"What?" he says, like he didn't hear the question. But then before Eddie can repeat himself- "No, that's just- I'm pretty sure that's just something people say."

Eddie still can't place the emotion on Buck's face though, so he asks, a little tentative, "you okay, bud?"

The weird expression disappears as Buck finally looks at him properly, then down at Joy, tickling her again just to hear her giggle.

"Yeah, no, I just- that was so wild," he says. "I haven't thought about Abby in ages."

He tosses Joy up and spins her around so that she's riding his shoulders now, towering above the stacks, and they head off down the aisle again, already back to being preoccupied by which cereal to choose this week. Eddie shakes his head, watching them fondly for a moment before retrieving their neglected cart and heading off in the opposite direction.

He wonders what produce is on sale today.

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: MDNI, angst, tension, arguing, flirting

As I was laying on my bed, mulling over the disaster downstairs, I listened to the voices carrying up the stairs. The walls might be thin, but the way Nick was laying into Matt, it didn’t matter.

“You had no right to speak to her like that” Nick said, his voice sharp. “She’s already dealing with enough, and you just throw more shit her way? Real classy.”

"She started it" Matt snapped back.

Nick wasn’t letting up. “And you just had to escalate it? What’s your deal with her anyway? You act so weird around her all the time.”

There was a pause, a moment of tense silence. I tried my best to hear an answer, my curiosity fighting my frustration.

"Drop it, Nick." Matt muttered finally.

"Whatever, keep being a dick if it makes you feel better. But you better not come between mine and Chris’ relationship with her."

I heard footsteps, followed by a slam of a door closing, Matt’s bedroom door, I guessed. A moment later, another door shut. The front door. Madi must’ve left too.

The house fell quiet again, except for the faint murmur of Nate’s voice, likely making his way to Chris’s room.

I barely had time to gather my thoughts by the time I heard Nick running up the stairs.

“Y/n?” Nick’s voice came through, hesitantly. I sat up, trying to mask the mix of emotions on my face.

Nick stepped inside, looking at me for a moment. “Hey, I just wanted to check on you..” he said. “After everything that just happened. Are you okay?”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Which part? The argument with Matt or Ethan showing up.. Now that you know about that.”

Nick winced. “Both, honestly. I mean, Ethan’s a piece of shit, and if he shows up here again, you let me know. I’ll handle it.”

I nodded, appreciating the sentiment even though I doubted Ethan would come back anytime soon. “Thanks, Nick.”

He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “And about Matt.. Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but he had no right to talk to you like that. I told him as much.”

I sighed, the anger from earlier simmering down into exhaustion. “I just don’t know what I did to make him hate me so much.. and I don’t want to impact your living situation, honestly Nick I can get a hotel until I figure something out.”

Nick frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re absolutely not going anywhere Y/n. You’re my bestfriend I love having you here and I know Chris does too... And Matt? I don’t think he hates you, I just think he needs to get over himself.” 

I tilted my head, confused. “Then what is it?”

Nick opened his mouth as if to say something but then closed it again, shaking his head. “That’s not for me to say. But don’t let him get under your skin. He’s.. complicated, but he’s not a bad guy.”

I wanted to press him further, to demand an explanation, but I could tell he wasn’t going to spill anything.

“Thanks for checking on me.” I said instead. “And for sticking up for me earlier.. And giving me a place to live.. It means a lot.”

Nick grinned, his easy going nature returning. “You never need to thank me. But seriously, though, if you need anything, or if Ethan tries anything else, you come to me, okay?”

“Okay” I promised, managing a small smile.

Nick nodded and left, closing the door to his room softly behind him.

I laid back down, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts swirling. Between Ethan, Matt, and everything else, my head felt like a war zone. After a while of tossing and turning, I finally fell asleep.

-

The sound of Chris’s voice echoing through the house woke me up. He wasn’t just talking, he was freaking out. I groggily glanced at the time on my phone. 7.18am. Not exactly the ideal start to the morning.

I threw on a hoodie over my pyjamas before heading downstairs, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as Chris’s voice got louder.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, Chris was running his hands through his hair, his phone in one hand. His frustration was palpable, his face clearly agitated.

“Hey..” I said, trying to catch his attention. “What’s going on?”

Chris turned to me, his expression a mix of annoyance and panic. “Matt’s gone. He’s not answering his phone, and we’re supposed to leave for the airport soon.”

I frowned, looking around. “Did he take the car?”

Chris nodded, holding up his phone. “Yeah, but I can’t even get through to him. My phone signal keeps cutting out, and he’s not picking up anyway. I swear, if we miss our flight-”

“Here” I said, offering him my phone. “Try calling him on mine.”

Chris hesitated for a moment before taking it. “Thanks” he muttered, already dialing Matt’s number.

I watched as he held the phone to his ear, his jaw tightening with every passing second of silence before exhaling sharply. “Straight to voicemail. Unbelievable.”

Before I could respond, the sound of a car pulling into the garage caught both our attention. A moment later, we heard footsteps marching up the staircase to the living area.

Chris’s expression immediately shifted to one of relief with an essence of irritation. “Where the fuck have you been?” he demanded, crossing the room toward Matt. “You know we have a flight to catch!”

“Relax. I needed a bigger suitcase, so I went to grab one. We’ve still got time.” Matt said as he set the suitcase down and shrugged.

Chris stared at him like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You went to buy a suitcase? At 7 in the morning? You could’ve at least told me where you were going!”

Matt rolled his eyes. “I didn’t think it was a big deal. I was gone for 45 minutes, tops.”

Chris shook his head, muttering something under his breath. He handed my phone back to me, his frustration still evident but slightly subdued. “Thanks for letting me use this” he said, managing a small, apologetic smile.

“No problem” I replied. 

As I spoke, Matt disappeared into his room without a word, pushing his new suitcase infront of him. The air between us felt thicker than ever, and I could tell by the way he avoided looking at me that things weren’t going to improve anytime soon.

Chris, completely oblivious to the tension, lingered in the living room, checking through his phone. “Alright, I think we’re good” he said, mostly to himself. “I’ve got everything sorted, flight details, car rental, hotel confirmations. I just need Matt to finish packing, and we’re out of here.”

I forced a polite smile. “Sounds like you’ll have fun.”

He glanced up at me, his expression softening. “Yeah we should..Oh! If any of the samples come in while I’m gone, just shoot me a message, yeah?”

“Dont worry I’ll keep you posted.” I replied, nodding.

Chris smiled, the kind that made you feel like everything was fine even when it wasn’t. “Alright, well.. guess I’ll see you when I’m back. Hopefully, I don't lose a load of money out here!”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at that, though it felt forced. “Safe flight, Chris.”

“Thanks” he said, slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder.

As Chris headed toward the garage, I lingered in the hallway for a moment, letting the faint sound of Matt moving around in his room fade into the quiet. Part of me wanted to confront him, to clear the air, but I knew it would only end in another argument.

Instead, I turned and walked back upstairs to my room. The tension from the morning still lingered in my chest, but I tried to push it aside. Chris and Matt were leaving for a few days, and maybe the distance would give me time to figure out how to deal with all of this.

For now, I just needed to focus on anything but Matt.

I spent most of the day tucked away in my “room,” trying to stay out of the way and keep to myself. The quiet was only broken by Nick, who passed through several times as he moved in and out of his own room next door. Each time, he made a point to stop and check in with me, leaning against the doorframe or flopping onto the edge of the bed.

“You good in here? Need anything?” he asked during one of his trips, holding a half eaten protein bar in one hand and a coffee in the other.

“I’m fine” I said, managing a small smile. “Just having a lazy day.”

“You? Lazy? In the same sentence? Never thought I’d see the day” he teased. “Well, let me know if you want food or whatever. I’m gonna order take out later.”

“Yep will do” I replied, laughing as he left the room.

Later in the afternoon, he came back, this time with a sandwich and a bag of chips. “I figured you’d need fuel” he said, leaving it on the dresser next to me.

“You’re too kind” I said, opening the bag and offering him some.

“What can I say? I’m the best” he said with a grin, snatching a handful.

-

As the evening crept in, I heard a knock against the thin wall that separated my room from Nick’s. Before I could respond, Nate stepped inside, looking curious.

“Hope I’m not interrupting” he said, leaning casually against the doorframe.

I shook my head. “Not at all. What’s up?”

Nate glanced around the room, his eyes taking in the setup, the bed, the flat pack dresser, the small touches I’d added to make it feel like home. “I gotta say, this is impressive. Didn’t expect to see this room looking like an actual bedroom.” He smirked. “They’ve never done anything like this for me.”

I laughed, shrugging. “Well, I guess I’m just lucky.”

“Lucky, yeah” Nate said with a teasing tone as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “Seriously though, are you okay after last night?” He voice softer.

“Yeah I’m fine. It’s not the first time Matt’s acted like that toward me.” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

“Still, it was out of line for him to talk to you like that. I don’t get why he’s so.. tense around you, you’re fun to be around.”

His words caught me off guard, and I felt a small smile tug at my lips. “Thanks, Nate. That means a lot.. Honestly, I don’t know why he’s like that. He’s just never taken a liking to me for some reason.” I sighed, shaking my head

Nate chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, his loss, I guess. If I were Matt, I’d be finding every excuse to hang around you.” He winked, slightly making my cheeks heat up.

I rolled my eyes playfully, trying to hide the flustered smile trying to creep across my face. “Right, because I’m just that amazing.”

He tilted his head, his grin widening. “You’re finally catching on.” Nate straightened up, his voice turning more serious but no less charming. What do you say, we have some fun tonight?”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by what he had in mind. “Fun? What kind of fun are we talking about?”

“I know this spot” he said, leaning closer like he was sharing a secret. “They’ve got great food, and then later, it turns into this club. Good vibes, good music, it could be just what we need to shake off the tension from last night.”

I tilted my head, smirking.

Nate grinned, his gaze steady as he replied smoothly, “What? It's just two incredibly attractive people having a good time together.”

The warmth in my cheeks was impossible to ignore now. “Incredibly attractive, huh? Big words, Nate.”

“Just calling it like I see it” he said, his tone dripping with confidence. “Be ready by 7, alright? I’ll take care of the rest.”

As he turned to leave, he glanced back over his shoulder. “Oh, and wear something that’ll make me look good standing next to you. Not that it’ll be hard for you.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you secretly love it” he called back, his laughter echoing down the stairs.

As I sat on the edge of my bed, I found myself smiling. A night out with Nate was bound to be fun, especially with how effortlessly charming he was.

Before I could fully process the gravity of Nate’s idea, Nick popped his head out of his room, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“What was that all about?” he asked, his eyebrows raised, a sly smirk playing on his lips.

I crossed my arms, trying to act nonchalant. “Nothing. Just Nate being.. Nate.”

Nick stepped fully into my room, folding his arms and grinning. “Uh huh.. Nate being Nate? That sounded a lot like Nate asking you out on a date.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at my lips. “It’s not a date. It’s just dinner and a club. That’s it.”

Nick gave me a look that screamed disbelief. “Oh, sure. Dinner and a club. Totally casual.”

“Nick!” I exclaimed, feeling my cheeks heat up. “You’re being so extra right now.”

He chuckled, leaning against the wall. “Hey, I’m just saying, you’re his type, and he’s definitely laying it on thick. But.. if you’re cool with it, I say go for it. You deserve a little fun after everything you’re going through.”

I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes at him. “Since when are you the voice of encouragement?”

Nick grinned. “Since you’re my best friend and I like to see you happy. Plus, if Nate gets out of line, I can kick his ass. Right?”

I laughed at how ridiculous he was being. “I think I can handle Nate just fine.”

Nick shrugged, his smile softening. “I know you can. Just remember, you’ve got backup if you need it. And.. you should wear something nice. I’ve seen the way Nate’s been looking at you.”

I rolled my eyes again, pushing him gently back toward his room. “Go away, Nick.”

He laughed as he retreated, “Have fun on your ‘not a date’’ date!”

I stood there as he shut his door, shaking my head with a smile. 

-

As I finished getting ready, I stood in front of the mirror, taking a picture of myself. I felt good in how I looked, the dress I chose hugged my figure perfectly, and my makeup was the best it's been in weeks.

Downstairs, I heard Nate’s voice calling up. “You ready, Y/n?”

“Coming!” I grabbed my bag, took a final glance in the mirror, and headed out.

As we slid into the backseat of the Uber, I found myself scrolling through my phone, staring at the photo I had taken just before leaving. I was happy with it, the angles were perfect and the lighting hitting just right. I was going to post it to my Instagram story, I was just stuck on what caption to put on it.

Nate, sitting beside me with his usual relaxed confidence, glanced over at my screen. “You should post that” he said casually, leaning back against the seat.

“I’m trying to think of what to write on it” I replied, still fixated on the photo, overanalyzing every word I could possibly pair with it.

 “Caption it ‘date night’ ” he smirked.

I froze, my thumb hovering over the screen, and turned to look at him. “What?”

“Date night” he repeated with a grin, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. His tone was playful, but his eyes held that teasing look that made it hard to tell how serious he actually was.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that what this is?”

He shrugged, a mischievous smile showing across his face. “It can be whatever you want it to be. But let’s be real, it wouldn’t be the worst thing, would it?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re funny.”

“Hey, I just call it like I see it,” he said, flashing that boyish grin that made him so effortlessly charming. “Plus, think of the reactions.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile creeping onto my face. “Fine. Maybe I’ll use your suggestion..”

I looked back at my phone, the typing words date night as my thumb hovered over the "post" button. His confidence was intriguing , but he wasn’t wrong, it would get some reactions. 

“Whatever you decide” Nate said, his voice softer now, “you look great in that photo. Just post it already.”

I smiled to myself, ignoring the flutter of butterflies in my stomach as I hit post. Nate leaned back with a satisfied smirk, and I was curious to see how this night panned out.

Matt’s POV

There was a loud thud as the plane landed on the runway in Vegas but it wasn’t enough to pull me out of my thoughts. I leaned back in my seat, arms crossed, staring out the window at skyline for the entire hour flight. Chris was beside me, yapping non stop about the plans for this trip, casino visits, dinner reservations, and the little free time we might squeeze in. I nodded along, but my mind was miles away. Back in LA.

Last night was a disaster, and I knew it was my fault. I’d pushed it too far with Y/n. She didn’t deserve the way I’d spoken to her, the stupid digs I’d thrown her way during the games. I wasn’t even sure why I kept doing it, why I always seemed to make things more difficult between us. But it was eating away at me now, knowing I’d crossed a line.

“You good, man?” Chris’s voice cut through my thoughts.

I turned to him, trying to mask the storm in my head. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Chris gave me a skeptical look, the kind only a best friend can manage. “You’ve been moody as hell since this morning. You sure you’re not dragging something with you from back home?”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “It’s nothing.”

Chris leaned back, crossing his arms. “Hmm yeah.. You’ve been staring out that window like it’s gonna tell you all the secrets of the universe.”

I shot him a look, but he just smirked. “It’s Y/n, isn’t it?”

Of course, he’d figure it out. Chris knew me too well. “Maybe” I muttered, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. “I just.. I said some things last night I shouldn’t have.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “You? Say something you shouldn’t? Shocking.”

“Can you not?” I snapped, but the annoyance was more at myself than at him.

Chris chuckled. “Alright, sorry. But seriously, you need to fix whatever it is when we get back. Y/n’s a good person.”

He was right, of course. I hated to admit it, but he was. For now, I had to focus on the trip. Vegas wasn’t exactly the place for self reflection. 

We grabbed our bags and deboarded the plane as Chris organised an Uber to the hotel. It was one of those prestige hotels with gold accents everywhere and a lobby bigger than some mansions. The kind of spot Chris lived for.

“Man, look at this place!” Chris said, spinning around to take it all in. “This room better have a view.”

When we got to our suite, it was exactly what I expected, huge, with large windows the size of the room overlooking the Strip. There was even a hot tub in the corner, and Chris immediately claimed the bigger bedroom with the better view.

I tossed my bag on the other bed and flopped down, trying to relax. I opted for a nap, since I barely found sleep last night.

5 hours later I woke to the sound of Chris’ music filling the hotel room. He poked his head into my room. “We gotta get ready man, you good?”

“Yeah” I said, forcing myself to get up.

“Cool. We’re hitting the casino first.”

I couldn’t match his enthusiasm. The only thing on my mind was Y/n. I knew I had the perfect way to make it up to her. I just needed the right moment. But maybe I could do something small in the meantime, something to show her I regretted last night. I pulled out my phone, the time reading 7:30pm. If I acted fast, I could place a delivery before it got too late.

Scrolling through a florist’s website, I picked out a bouquet of red roses. Classic and meaningful. As I typed out the message to attach to the card, my thumbs hovered over the screen, hesitant for a second before I settled on:

Y/n, I’m sorry for last night. I went too far, and you didn’t deserve that. - Matt

I finalized the order and paid for the flowers to be delivered within the next hour. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Something to begin mending the open wound I’d created.

I showered quickly and threw on dark jeans and a fitted button down shirt. Chris emerged from his room looking slick as ever. Black slacks, a crisp white shirt, and a smirk that showed his confidence.

He ran a hand through his hair and checked his reflection in the window. “This is the night, kid. I’m feeling lucky.”

Chris walked out of his room just as I received a confirmation text: Your flowers have been delivered. The florist even included a picture of the bouquet sitting outside the front door. Relief washed over me, knowing I’d done something to begin setting things right.

Chris, oblivious as ever, turned toward me with a wide grin. “So, Rachel and Christina are meeting us at the casino tonight” he announced casually.

I shrugged. “Cool. Whatever.” I hooked up with Christina the last time we were in Vegas, and Chris with Rachel. We’d been talking on and off since then.

“Oh, and I seen Y/n’s on a date tonight?”

My head snapped toward him, my chest tightening. “What?”

Chris gave me a look like I’d missed something obvious. “Her story. Saw it while I was getting ready. She’s all dressed up, and it says ‘date night’ on it. Wonder who with.”

There was no way. Was she on a date with him? Ethan? After everything that's gone on? It sent a rage inside me, making me feel like a complete fool.

I pulled out my phone, the picture of the flowers still on my screen. Without thinking, I shot off a quick text to Nick:

"There’s a delivery outside the front door. Can you just put it straight in the trash?"

a/n: nate is the BIGGEST flirt

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[nothorses]

honestly reading the Neil Gaiman piece on Vulture I was just thinking about Bojack Horseman the whole time. like. he's got trauma and whatever else, maybe he even convinced himself it was all consensual, but at the end of the day he's empowered by a larger system to do this type of shit & it will always be easier to not change, to not grow, and to just indulge your worst possible impulses over and over again. because everyone around you wants you to do that. they want to enable you. they want you to either get away with it so they don't have to face consequences by extension, or they want you to do it so you're as bad as they are and you're less likely to challenge them when they do it.

Like no, he's not a monster; he's a human person who knew better but chose worse anyway. I don't totally believe he knew exactly what he was doing, or that he's doing it to maintain some kind of rich vs. poor, powerful vs. powerless dynamic.

I think he's a man with childhood trauma who has been told that he should not heal, he should not change, he should not challenge the system, and in fact it is better that he participate in it. That he can take the easy way out (not that it'll ever actually lead him anywhere close to "out"), and he should, and it'll be easy, and everyone around him will enable and protect him if he does. That if he decides to fight for real healing and real growth instead, he will have to fight hard against everything and everyone around him, and he will be alone in that fight.

That's the wrong choice. He's responsible for all of the hurt he caused every single time he made it. He deserves no sympathy from fucking anyone for any of it. The only way out is through, and that means facing all of the full consequences of his many, many fucked up and horrible choices.

And I think we need to reckon with the system that makes the horrible shit Gaiman did feel like the easiest option, or we're not gonna get anywhere.

[mtcloudsworld]

𝐷𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑁𝑖𝑔𝘩𝑡

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 | +18, mdni, making out, fingering, I did edit it but in case of any errors, ignore it :)

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 | like, comment, reblog, enjoy lovebugs!!! 🦠🩷 Also, check out RED HOOD'S MASTERLIST

"When's the next time I can see you?" You were hesitant to ask, considering he had a busy schedule and the last thing you wanted was to sound so desperate and needy or trying to squeeze herself somewhere in his busyness.

But Jason, however, was willing to work around that, for you.

"Whenever you want to see me," he observes you fishing through your purse for your keys.

When you've already had them in your hands, you lock eyes with him about to say something in response. When you look up and lock eyes with him, you feel stuck underneath his striking gaze. Your head tilts in adornment. The beautiful sparkling blue was darker than before. Striking and alluring all at once. You wanted to look away, but were too drawn in. He gave you the kind of look that should intimidate you. The kind of look that makes you feel like you're seen thoroughly.

The kind of look that should warn you that now may not be the time, that you should wait it out, see if this is something you both want. If you were something he truly wanted. It was the kind of glare that admired every little detail along your face, the kind that made one's mind think of unholy thoughts when put under a spell of attraction and lust. And while removing the curl from your face, the feeling of his fingertips brushed along the side of your face made you want to lean into his touch. Your eyes begin to shift between orbs.

"Stop looking at me like that." You whispered, not intending to but by the proximity you both were in you felt so shy and small before him. A light smile curls to the end of your lips as you feel his hand smoothly slip into yours, his long digits slipping between the space of your own to then grip your hand gently, his thumb rubbing along the back of your hand to ease your jumbled nerves.

He cocks a brow in amusement. "Like what?" He was acting clueless now, innocent, as if his eyes weren't just undressing her and thinking about pinning her against this damn door.

"I'm just looking." He states, with feign innocence.

There was a hint of mischief in his eyes, one that knew exactly what he was doing but simply wanted to tease you just to see you squirm and act all shy.

"No," you shake your head slowly, smiling a little, "you're not just looking, you're looking... catch the difference?" You ask with a squint tilting your head like a dog trying to figure out the puzzle.

Can he tell the difference?

He chuckles.

"Could you honestly blame a guy? It's kinda hard not to when you're looking like this." He says lowly whilst eyeing you entirely.

"Mm, mhmm," you nodded slowly, humming in understanding and feeling your cheeks heat up as you rubbed your glossy lips inward.

He wanted to kiss you.

Your mocha glossy lips were just calling his name.

The night was only young, and so far, a simple hug, hand holding and brushing of the shoulders and knees were the only contact you had both received.

You were enticing, tempting in the most intoxicating way.

He didn't have the right to force you into anything if you weren't ready, he had self control but he was trying his damn hardest not to smash his lips on yours. You were so beautiful and he loved everything about you from the inside out. You were pure, genuine and sweet. How could he pass on an opportunity like this.

You were the prime example of treasure.

He didn't want to come off as pushy or crude, eager, he wanted to still figure you out, sense if the vibes were there or if he was just imagining things...

But...you wanted him to, just as badly as he wanted you.

This tension between you was getting out of hand, it was making your body weak, anticipating for him to just take the lead.

All night, any time he did something so sexy of the bare minimum or his hand was along some part of your body, your thighs were clenching and unclenching like clamps. Your mind swirling like a tornado. Heart beating at a 110.

If you were being honest this whole "taking it slow" thing was starting to fade in the background.

The more y'all stood before each other, staring into each other's eyes. Hunger and thirst, consumed you. The more you wanted him to touch your sizzling body and take you right here, right now.

The more you were deeply invested at the idea of his touch and the taste of his mouth.

You wanted to know what his hands would feel like roaming all over your body, up the split of your dress to the band of your black lacy thong where he could possibly dip his fingers between your soaking folds and feel the heat cupping at the palm of his hand.

You were curious of how his lips would feel against yours. On your neck, where he could feel the pulsating surface against his tongue as he tastes your coco butter lotion along his buds. To hear your whiney wishes and breathy moans sing in his ears as his fingers thrust into your sobbing hole.

To feel your warmth surround him, coat him with your arousal and treating you with delicate care.

Shit, you were dripping just at the thought of it.

You didn't realize your eyes were nowhere near his face as you felt your body heat up by the promixety of his body. You noticed his fingers gripping your chin gently to push your head up and meet his gaze.

Of course there was lust and longing pooling in his but there was also a deep need for you that you couldn't describe in words.

His thumb brushed along your bottom lip as he examines the gloss smearing with each swipe, he hums, "They're so pretty." He addresses subtly, not caring that something so sinful might slip from his lips or that his words might be blunt for the moment.

He could practically hear your breathing become irregular, not out of fear, but expectancy.

"They would be even prettier with your lips on them." You say bluntly, not expecting those exact words to spill from your mouth and speak in such a soft and sultry tone...

But it gained his attention, didn't it?

A subtle smirk arises to his lips.

"Is that what you want, sweetheart? For me to kiss you?"

"yeah, but...you want it just as much as I do, don't you?" Your bodies were pressed against one another with his hands planted at your hips, wanting nothing more than to inch closer to the roundness of your ass but keeps it respectful.

"Hm," he groans, clenching his jaw, "I don't wanna rush." He says leaning his forehead against yours, watching as your noses bump against one another.

"That's fine," you promised, "we don't have to, we can take it slow." Your smile is appreciative, glad that he was still considerate, stroking your thumbs along his pink tinted cheeks, "and if we do, then...that's okay too, I give you permission to be gentle and caring with me and making me feel good."

With acceptance and consent, he leaned in to attach his lips to yours. Jason didn't feel you hesitate nor flinch at the soft, plush of his lips. You completely welcomed him, invited him to take the lead. It was deliciously slow and deep, you could taste the white wine on each other's tongue as he slithered between your lips.

God, did his tongue feel heavenly on yours, I mean everything felt heavenly to you but this felt different.

You felt your back press against the door. Your hands dragging along the plains of his shoulder blades, fingers wrinkling his button up with their grip to eventually move towards the napes of his hair. His hands, calloused and warm, venture near the split of your dress, just how you predicted it.

Your leg creeps up around his hip pulling him closer when you feel his hand caressinc up underneath your thigh to then knead up around it towards your hip bone.

He frowns.

At first, he thought you weren't wearing anything, but the more he investigated beneath your dress, the more he felt the band beneath the pads of his fingers. You detect the way his fingers drag closer and closer to your center, the prolonged feeling made you antsy and eager for him to just touch you already.

"Jason--"

"Shh, I know." He smirks chuckling to your pleas.

He starts to run along your clothed center, feeling a wet patch of your arousal stick to your clit. Just like his lips, his fingers roamed. Consumed by his warmth and affection, you neglected the fact that you were still in the hall way of your apartment complex.

Clearly neither of you cared if anyone spotted you getting fingered down by the most charming yet feared man in the city. Or that you were calling his name between bated breathes, letting him know just how good he was making you feel, how badly you needed him.

And you would whine, beg for him to just take you.

And although he wanted to react in shock, he plays it cool. Planting a kiss to your lips, he pulls away with the simple instruction to "Open the door, baby" before licking your juices off his fingers.

The moment the door was open welcomed by dim lighting from the lamp by your couch you squeal in surprise by the feeling of his strong hands hosting you up over his shoulder, kicking the door shut with his foot and carrying you to the bedroom.

Piece by piece, articles of clothing are discarded. The room was filled with loud moans of his name stuck on repeat, the headboard banging against the wall, rounds upon rounds, you were positive your neighbors were probably fed up with your shenanigans by now. Cursing underneath their breaths. Wondering who in the hell this "Jason" could be and why he was fucking you at this time of the night.

By the fifth round, you were both fucked out. Sheets in a disarray, skin to skin contact with their bodies aligned, breathes calmed down.

With the window cracked open for the city's noise to seep through, the warm wind blowing past the curtains and the fan blowing lightly on rotation. You were both in and out of sleep, in a daze, contently satisfied with knowing this was gonna be a forever thing.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 ©𝐦𝐭𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[bright-side20]

A little Elriel fanfic 😘

Elain hummed to herself as she arranged the batch of cookies on the tray. The warm, sugary scent filled the kitchen. She adjusted the oven, carefully sliding the tray inside. She wiped her hands on her apron, satisfaction warming her chest as she imagined Nyx’s delighted smile when he saw the treats.

The faint breeze of Azriel’s wings rustled her hair just before his hands slid around her waist. She immediately leaned into his warmth, his chest pressing lightly against her back.

"Busy, are we?” he murmured into her ear, his voice teasing.

She bit her lip, trying to focus on the task at hand. “Nyx asked for cookies,” she said, as though it explained everything.

Azriel hummed, the sound vibrating against her back. “Didn’t we agree that today was supposed to be about us? No interruptions, no tasks. Just… us.”

Elain smiled, turning her head slightly to glance at him. “You’ve seen his face when he asks for something,” she said softly, a smile tugging at her lips.

Azriel shook his head, exhaling a soft laugh. “You’re spoiling the kid.”

She turned back to cleaning the workspace, her voice light with amusement. “Says the one who flew halfway across the Continent to find him that dragon figurine.”

Before she could react, his hands were on her waist, and with one swift motion, he turned her and lifted her onto the counter. She gasped, gripping his shoulders.

“Azriel!” she exclaimed, though there was no real protest in her voice.

His hands stayed on her waist, his thumbs brushing against her ribs. “It was a strategic mission,” he said. “That toy was the only thing that stopped him from crying every time Feyre left the room.”

Elain laughed and leaned to press a soft kiss on his lips. “But honestly, you have to admit it ,you’re the one who spoils him. I just bake cookies,” she said, batting her lashes at him.

Azriel’s hazel eyes glinted, a mix of gold and green that always seemed to catch her off guard. “You don’t just bake cookies, love,” he said . “Nyx will remember this. Trust me.”

“I doubt that. He’s only three. By the time he’s older, he won’t remember I did this,” she said.

Azriel’s hand covered hers, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “He’ll remember how loved he felt,” he said, his voice warm.

Elain’s throat tightened, thinking about all Azriel had endured as a child. She reached up, cupping his face as she smiled. “You’re going to be an incredible father,” she said without thinking.

Azriel’s wings twitched, and his expression shifted, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to his scarred hands.

Elain took his hand gently, her fingers brushing over the scars. She brought it to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to his palm before cradling it against her cheek, letting its warmth seep into her skin. “You’ve never thought about having children?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes darting back to hers. “No. Not until…”

“Not until me,” she finished softly, her lashes lowering as a shiver ran through her at the memory of his words, the way he’d looked at her, the rough promise in his voice I’m going to fuck you until you’re pregnant.

Azriel’s eyes darkened, like he could see the thought flickering in her mind, feel the heat of it. “Not until you,” he said, his voice rough, his thumb stroking over her cheek.

Elain’s cheeks warmed, but she held his gaze. “I’ve thought about it,” she admitted. “How it would feel to have little ones running around. I think…” Her lips curved into a tender smile. “I think we’d make good parents.”

“What if…” He paused, his throat working as he swallowed hard. “If the baby has wings it... I couldn’t...” His voice cracked, fear showing in his eyes. “I can’t risk losing you, Elain.”

Her fingers threaded through his hair. “Azriel,” she said, her voice gentle, “you won’t lose me.”

“You can’t know that,” he replied.

“Yes, I can,” she said, her voice steady. “Because I’ve seen it.”

His brow furrowed. “Seen what?”

“A vision,” she said. “Of us. Of our children.” She cupped his face. “Azriel, we’re going to have children. And I was fine. I am fine. I saw it. Felt it. There’s nothing to fear.”

His breath hitched, his hands tightening around her thighs. “You saw…?”

She nodded, tears shimmering in her eyes. “A boy with your wings and your smile. And a girl with my eyes. We’re going to be okay. I promise.”

His shoulders sagged slightly, the tension easing from his body. “Why didn’t you tell me that before?” he asked.

“I was saving it for our anniversary,” she admitted with a small laugh, “but I couldn’t keep it in any longer.”

Azriel buried his face in her neck, breathing in her scent. When he looked back at her, a tear ran down his cheek as he said, “I love you.”

She wiped his tear and leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his. “I love you.”

His hand slid into her hair, tilting her as his lips captured hers. The kiss was slow and lazy, as if they had all the time in the world.

Elain pulled back just enough to breathe in the air around them, the warm scent of cookies reaching her nose.

“The cookies,” she murmured against his lips.

“Cookies?” Azriel repeated.

She nodded, biting her lip playfully. “They’re done.”

He didn’t waste a second before moving toward the oven, pulling the tray of freshly baked cookies out with ease and setting them on the counter. “So,” he said, stepping closer and sliding his hands around her waist again, “can I have my wife now?”

Her gaze dropped, taking in the flour smudges on her apron, her thighs where his hands had gripped her, and even the faint outline of her touch on his shirt. Her cheeks flushed as her eyes darted to the mess dusting his pants.

She looked back up at him. “I think,” she said, “I need a bath.”

“A bath?” he echoed, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a rasp. “Together or apart?”

She tilted her chin, a mischievous smile on her lips. “Depends,” she replied, her fingers skimming down his chest, tracing the hard lines of muscle beneath his shirt. “Will you behave?”

“Not a chance,” he said.

Before she could respond, he hooked his hands under her thighs and lifted her effortlessly off the counter. Her legs wrapped around his waist, the solid heat of him pressing against her core.

She gasped, half laughing, half breathless as he carried her toward the bathroom.

As he set her down gently, his hands lingering at her waist, Elain caught her reflection in the mirror,flushed cheeks, flour smudged skin, and eyes alight with joy. Then her gaze moved to Azriel,his scarred hands gripping her as if he couldn’t bear to let her go. His hair was tousled, his lips flushed from hers, and his hazel eyes fixed entirely on her.

Her chest ached with how much she loved him. Not just for the way he looked at her, like she was his whole world, but for the quiet strength in him, the devotion he carried, the love he never tried to hide. Her hands slid up to his jaw, her thumbs brushing over the smooth skin of his cheeks.

“I want it,” she whispered. “Everything. You. Us. The family we’ll build together.”

His hands tightened on her waist, his wings flaring slightly behind him. “Elain…” he rasped, as her hand slid lower, over his chest, lingering just above his heart.

She leaned in, pressing a kiss to his chest, her lips brushing over the steady beat of his heart. “I want to give you everything,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “I want to give you that life, Azriel. I want it all, with you.”

“You already do,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “You already have.”

But the way his eyes darkened, the way his grip shifted, as if he were trying to hold back...told her he felt it too. That same need, that same desire to make her his in every way. To give her the life she’d just promised him. And when his tongue traced her lips, savoring her, she knew they were on the same page...

[dailyrothko]

Are you a Mad Men fan? I'm curious what your thoughts are on the Rothko centric episode

Forgive me for being overly digressive about this instead of just simply answering.

I always have a feeling of trepidation when something I love is worked into the popular culture. I think it's a throwback from before the Internet when things felt more precious and personal because they were not as widely distributed. When I was a kid if you had $10 you had one record, if you have $10 now you have the whole history of music on Spotify ( we will temporarily forget that they are destroying the music business and using the money to make robots for the army).

But if you had an Os Mutates or Mulatu Asake record back then chances are you were bringing it from a different country and it was as if you had fetched the sword from the lady of the lake and were bringing it back to the common people. The effort required to be interested in certain things seemed to make them extra special due to your devotion and labor. I think maybe that's why one can feel protective of certain things like "I hope everybody doesn't get into this now and ruin it."

It's actually counterintuitive, but that's sometimes how it works. I loved Ghost World but was nervous that one of my favorite artists Skip James, was a feature of the movie . I thought they might diminish it because it's Hollywood, but actually of course they did a perfect job with it partially because of the director is also a legendary record collector of early music.

All of this is to say that I was pretty worried about how they would treat a Mark Rothko in a main stream television show. But honestly, I think they did a pretty good job. When I finally saw it I thought it was good they used a reproduction of a real painting ( even though someone on Reddit misinformed everybody saying it was invented) . I thought what was good about it is that the reactions of the characters on the show to the painting pretty much track with my experience of people discovering Rothko.

One person thinks it's for the monetary value, another one doesn't understand it and still another person sees something in it that they can't describe. And I thought that was pretty good, I think for a Rothko specifically that's realistic. Also as conservative as the 1950s was, in some ways people were more receptive to new art. The media treated art as something that was culturally important rather than a waste of time and money. Life magazine had a circulation that reached a quarter of the American public and they would have articles on people like Jackson Pollock.

So I thought it was not bad and also so many people who had never heard of Rothko discovered him through the show so that was an accompanying felicity. 

I still find it a little strange the TV is the main communicator of culture but millions of people had never heard Nick Drake until a Volkswagen commercial so I suppose that was a net positive for the world that they did .