#Fucked me up emotionally in so many ways but also i have IDEAS now

[mushroom-soup-is-my-religion]

I need to actually work on unmarked

[phagodyke]

was gonna say smth else but this turned into a vent sorry everyone just ignore. typical weekend post on this blog u know how it is here we go👍

[opennwindows]

If you can, could I request BEN Drowned fluff / smut headcanons like about himself, with his headcanon age, hobbies, facts, what he is into or would like & want in a relationship, and what he would be like with a gamer girlfriend/ s/o?

If ya taking requests rn still?✨😇😊💖

Ben Drowned general + NSFW hcs

A/N: yes!! absolutely. i love getting to talk about how the pastas do their pastaing in my mind. i have so many headcanons for everyone that im excited to share!! also sorry i forgot to include the gamer gf part but i don't think it would change a lot of what i wrote!!

btw sorry for fucking dying i have been busy 😭😭 but no one worry i will still continue to work on requests!! if anyone has any marble hornets stuff they wanna request i will zoom you to the front of the queue so fucking quick. anyways enough of me yapping.

cw: 18+ nsfw, toxic relationships, crying kink,

GENERAL

ben is mentally and physically 22, but he can be quite emotionally immature at times. when he died he never stopped growing and maturing, his soul was just stuck in limbo. think like the worst waiting room ever.

he's surprisingly tall, standing at about 5'9. he's lanky but not bone thin. could easily get pretty far in a fight without his ghost powers.

the link costume only appears when he’s in his ghost form. so for example, when he’s messing with someone on their computer he’ll appear as the canon BEN we’re most familiar with. when he’s just chilling in his physical body, he mostly wears beat up hoodies and sweatpants.

contrary to popular belief, ben's not the hardcore gamer everyone thinks he is. sure, he'll play some overwatch or whatever when he's bored but he honestly just prefers to watch tv and browse the internet. understandably REFUSES to play any zelda games. if you were trapped in a video game for decades would you ever wanna touch it again? exactly.

ben loves to draw little comics and troll (see: horrifically traumatize) people online. god forbid you get into twitter beef with this man because he will crawl through your monitor at 3am and leave you with a crippling fear of technology. dude thinks it's absolutely hilarious. a true knee slapper.

lowkey has a sugar addiction. will slam down 4 cans of pepsi in one sitting. he's very lucky that he's basically a ghost because the kidney stones would be plentiful.

ROMANTIC

you know that guy with the blown out speakers in his car, lives off of energy drinks and burnt blue razz ice elfbars, swears aphex twin is the modern mozart and works on the grill at your local wendy’s? yeah thats ben. or at least would be him if he was still human.

“why would you need a chair, my lap is literally right here babe.”

would absolutely wear your skin if given the opportunity. not in a weird way. he’s just EXTREMELY touchy.

he needs someone who is significantly more organized and motivated than him. he can go almost a week without showering and it should honestly be considered biological warfare when he tries to smother you with affection during these episodes.

after awhile of you guys dating he LOVES the idea of y’all showering together. he has a fear of water and while showers aren’t too much of a trigger, your presence helps ease his anxiety.

favorite pet names: bro, dude, dawg, babe, bitch (non derogatory)

not really a romantic but he tries his best. a perfect date for him is just getting some takeout, watching youtube, talking about stupid shit and play fighting. if you want something more traditional or extravagant then he’ll oblige to make you happy but those types of dates make him feel quite suffocated and nervous. try to save those for special occasions.

now let’s talk about his problems because just like the other creeps he is ANGSTY.

he’s probably the most emotionally stable and healthiest of the group but he definitely still has his toxic traits, after all this man is a ghost that mentally tortures and kills his victims through manipulation.

ben would never ever get physical with his partner no matter how enraged he is but he absolutely is the type to do some mental damage when he gets carried away. ben drowned? more like ben gaslighted.

the type to say some shit that would keep you up for years and then kiss you the next morning like the argument never happened. he finds it easier to ignore problems than to actively talk and fix them. you’re gonna have to teach him some important communication skills or else you’ll grow to resent him after all the bottled up rage.

a bit too brutally honest and blunt for his own good so if you have thin skin the relationship would fall apart pretty quickly. he wants someone who can drag him twice as hard as he dragged you. bonus points if your insults are consistently funny as hell.

please watch anime with him and discuss it. he would propose on the spot, especially if you play with his hair.

pro player tip: if you want him to clean his disgusting room, help him and make it fun! he just needs a little push and motivation at times. and being around you makes him want to get his shit together.

big fan of late night make-out sessions. i’m talking like 45 minutes straight of just slobbering on each other’s faces with tongues down throats. if you don’t want his hands running over every inch of your body then you’ll probably have to chain him to the wall.

NSFW

okay. so he’s a little inexperienced with his hands. he’s just a slow learner. be vocal with him about what you like!!

ben's about 7inches and slightly skinnier than average but he will have you seeing stars in record time. the dick game is no joke. he tends to go fast and deep most times.

i can see him being a switch in the idgaf-as-long-as-i’m-fucking way. dude will go with the flow and will try mostly anything.

definitely one of the least aggressive pastas during sex. he has sadistic tendencies but he’s more of a edge/overstimulate you until you cry versus a beat the shit out of you and rip hair out of your scalp type. he’s pretty vanilla given his occupation.

despite his love of roasting the fuck out of you on a daily basis, the only words that come out of this man’s mouth is heavenly praise. he looks at you like you’re the most gorgeous being on the planet and he’ll let you know it.

he loves to whisper praises into your ear while you ride him.

he's more of a receiver than a giver when it comes to oral. he'll absolutely spend hours between your legs if given the chance but nothing beats the sight of you on your knees and teary eyed with his length in your mouth.

he can be a bit of a head pusher but just let him face-fuck you every now and then, hearing his loud moans will be worth it.

did i mention how much of a crying kink this man has? you guys could be on round three and if he stares at your teary eyed fucked-out face for longer than 10 seconds he'll immediately get hard again. you'll have to beg him to give your poor body a break.

he's also into choking but only if he's the one doing it. if you try to restrict his breathing he'll panic and the mood would get ruined.

[obsessedwithceleste]

Theodore Nott Headcanons

Dedicated to this lil request here 🫶🏽

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

It’s no secret that Theodore Nott had a rough childhood

Between witnessing his mother’s death at a young age and having a particularly ruthless father, Theo learned to be quietly reserved early on

1000% Theo is an introvert

Despite being seemingly closed off, he’s extremely observant and good at reading others and picking up on things quickly

While he may not be the best at deciphering his own emotions, he’s able to sort through others’ easily

This makes it easy for him to be rather manipulative because he knows what makes other’s tick and how to go straight for the jugular

He may be distant and off putting in the beginning, but once you get close, he’s a clingy bastard because he doesn’t let many people get close, so once you make it there he’ll basically hold you captive forever

He’s also stupid smart

(Canonically he’s able to re-create an illegal time turner after they were all destroyed in the department of mysteries so//)

And this makes him a bit of an arrogant asshole

Looks down on people he thinks aren’t as smart as him

He definitely thinks that he knows best and can have a “my way or the highway” type mindset

Probably has some type of gifted kid™️ trauma and a crippling fear of failure

Anyway, he’s super intelligent and witty and has the potential to do really well in classes

But he has a nasty habit off skiving off with Mattheo Riddle

Who happens to be his best friend along with Lorenzo Berkshire

A lot of people think Theo is the “mother” of the group, or at least the one with the most impulse control

They’re wrong

Theo is the one that Mattheo goes to with his dumbass ideas and Theo’s response is generally something along the lines of-

“Absolutely not you tosser. If we’re going to do it, we’re going to do it right”

Queue Mattheo’s initial plan- only methodically planned out to cause maximal amounts of emotional trauma for the Hogwarts population

Theo and Mattheo are also a chaotic duo on the quidditch pitch

Theo is a chaser

Making the quidditch team in his third year is one of the only times his father showed a hint of satisfaction with the boy

Being on the Slytherin quidditch team, he’s often labeled a preppy jock

And Mattheo does help him break out of his shell more

But he’s a nerdy lil book worm at heart and likes to be holed up in the library most days

Theo also has quite the reputation of being a ladies man with rumors about his escapades swarming the student body

But really they’re just that- rumors

Lorenzo is more of the openly flirtatious pretty boy, and Mattheo certainly knows how to make his way around which is perhaps why people think Theo would be the same way

But he isn’t one to really form physical attachments- emotional or not

He prefers to fly under the radar

He may have had a fling or two, but isn’t one to kiss and tell

He has a hard time entering a real relationship

Mostly because when he first realizes he’s caught feelings, he’s convinced he’s actually just ill and stays in bed pretending to be sick

But once he comes to terms with things, he’s one determined wizard

Makes sure everyone knows that you’re off limits (possibly before you know yourself)

Definitely goes to Enzo for advice on how to woo you

With varying degrees of success

King of subtle PDA (just enough to mark his territory)

Confident and secure in his relationship, but also still jealous as hell

Will hex the living shit out of someone for breathing at you the wrong way

Finds it amusing when you get jealous though

But will shut it the fuck down as soon as he picks up on you being actually upset (probably embarrassing whoever it is in the process)

Not always the best at communicating his feeling cause he’s emotionally constipated af

But tries because he knows he doesn’t want a relationship like his parent’s

Okayyy I think that’s all for now, but I have a feeling these will grow and evolve with time sooo- ongoing (?) idk

[fadingdaggerr]

first off, omg I absolutely love your writing. You're literally my favorite author on here. Second, the pictures you choose for each one shot are *chefs kiss*

Moving on from that, I was wondering if you could do a melissa schemmenti one shot inspired by the song "casual" by chappell roan, and with a happy ending? or the song "red wine supernova"?

I've been meaning to do it myself but I so don't have the time or motivation right now😭

and now? (18+ minors, dni)

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: melissa craved you, you craved melissa. what you crave from each other seems to differ depending on the season, based on both casual and red wine supernova by chappell roan. | 6.1k

includes: angst!!, fluff, no pronouns/gender mention for r, emotionally constipated mel and r, self sabotage from r, happy ending

warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamics, alcohol consumption (minimal), marijuana use (minimal), verbal fighting, afab reader (no mention of breasts in ref to r), smut throughout (oral, fingering, toy use, mel and r receiving), lots of praise

translations: sfigata (italian - loser), τουαλέτα (greek - restroom - pronounced too-ah-leh-tah)

note: on this episode of “sol complains about their inability to write under 4k words and then immediately writes 6k+” N E ways. the goal of this was to sort of have mel's perspective be carried by red wine supernova and reader's perspective to be more along casual. thank you for trusting me with your prompt/idea, i'm very honored <3

The moment she saw you, she knew she had to have you.

Tipsy at a housewarming party, uninterested in everyone around her, Melissa almost calls it a night. She only agreed to be here because Shauna said ‘a small get together,’ not ‘having half of Philly in the kitchen alone.’ Weaving through the room, she attempts to find someone she knows to say goodbye to, but her search is halted by yelling from the foosball table.

In the living room, Dominic is accusing someone of cheating. At foosball. Amused, she walks further into the room to watch, seeing Dominic miss the ball too many times to not be an effect of alcohol, and he groans towards the ceiling.

He angrily spins the handles he’s holding, jostling the table, “stop fucking cheating, dude!”

“I’m not fucking cheating, dude,” the other player responds, laughing through the answer. Hiking it onto her tiptoes, Melissa peeks over shoulders to see you, a little grin on your face that also drops the joint hanging from your lips.

“Bitch, yes you are!”

Without a second to even blink, you push the rods in your hands forward, hard, making the metal ends roughly hit Dom’s hip. Leaning over the table, you blow smoke towards his face with a sarcastic smile, “don’t call me a bitch. Thought you knew better, Domi?”

“Yup,” he responds through a wince, “yup, wasn’t thinking. Sorry.”

Through a chuckle, you take another hit from the near-roach, eye flicking up at the sensation of being watched intently. Red hair sticks out in the crowded room, green eyes sticking out more. Subconsciously, you do a once over of her, meeting her eyes.

Voices, music, the people around you, they all faded away. All you saw was Melissa. All Melissa saw was you.

Your whole body goes on autopilot, trying to get you to her as quickly as possible. Dominic tries to get you to play another round, an attempt to redeem himself, but you wave him off, not taking your eyes off the object of your attention as you snub out the joint against the game table. It takes borderline shoving almost everyone out of your way before you finally get to her. Any thought of leaving early flies out Melissa’s brain, disappearing as you enter her orbit.

It’s all a blur from the center of the living room, to the back of it, to the locked bathroom with you on the counter. How she got here, she doesn’t know, nor care. All she can focus on is your hand gripping her hair and the taste of you on her tongue. The blessing and curse of music beating through the wall fills her ears, thankful it covers the moans coming from you for any partygoers, but angered she can barely hear them.

Melissa can’t dwell much when your thighs begin to shake around her head, the hand not in her hair was nearly clawing the wall. From the whines that she manages to hear through thigh-shaped earmuffs and bass boosts, she can tell you’re close, the bucking into her mouth quickening with the motion of her tongue. Melissa’s alternating of figure-eights and sucking on your clit is your downfall, struggling to contain the loud groan that desperately wants to rip from your throat.

Languid motions slow, making you squirm from overstimulation before you’re pulling her back up to your lips. You almost give right back in when you feel her groan against your lips, tasting yourself on her as she dominates the kiss, all teeth and tongue. She was addictive, your new drug of choice, one you don’t want to let go of soon. 

Melissa leaves the party with your number in her phone, and your taste imprinted on her tongue.

—☽—

Melissa can’t even wait two days before she texts you, just saying it was her, chewing her thumb as she waits for a reply. Eight minutes and three seconds later, not that she’s been silently counting or anything, her phone buzzes.

hey beautiful. was wondering when i’d hear from you.

You were at her door within a couple hours, almost running over your coworker as the workday ended.

The first month of this arrangement, this is all it is. Melissa texts you a simple Are you free tonight? and you show up at her front door, grinning as she pulls you in by the collar of your shirt. She rarely takes her time with you, immediately sucking at sensitive skin and cupping your sex through your underwear, dragging her teeth down your throat. Moans and whining coming from you only spur her on. You barely make it to the couch before her fingers are working their way inside you.

It takes weeks before you can contain yourselves enough to make it to her bedroom, though your clothes are scattered from the front door to the stairs, Melissa’s black thong caught on the bannister. An altogether miracle you even make it onto her bed.

The redhead has a damn near obsession with eating you out, bold hands holding you down as you squirm, groaning into you as you grind into her face. It’s the first and last thing she does every time, before she kisses you goodbye, all soft and sweet. The two actions are so wildly different, rough and dominating followed by gentle and caring. How could one not become a fiend for the attention only she can provide?

Another month passes, and it’s almost routine. Melissa calls, you run. Melissa says jump, you ask how high. Melissa tells you to take off your shirt, it’s off before she finishes her sentence. Melissa gets you off, you leave before you’ve even caught your breath.

The expectation of you leaving drops one night when she catches the dazed, sleepy look in your eyes one night. For the first time, she lets someone spend the night. With her arm around your waist, you speak quietly into the air, “would you wanna go on a date sometime? A real one, I mean.”

Her arm retracts from your body, turning to lay on her back, “c’mon, baby. That’s not what this is, we agreed.”

Suddenly, you’re glad she’s not pressed against you anymore, breath uneven, “yeah, yeah. You’re right. Nevermind.”

You don’t bring it up again. She doesn’t try to hold you again. Your visits include dinner and wine before she dines on you and coffee before you leave in the morning, but nothing more. It tastes bitter in your mouth.

Four months in, and you find yourself splayed across her couch with the redhead buried between your thighs, fingers making sparks roll through your core. Hard knocking broke through, both of you stare at each other with wide eyes. A second round of knocking throws you into motion, scrambling to put your jeans back on, Melissa hurriedly cleaning her fingers with her mouth. Just before she opens the door, you stop her to fix her hair, immediately turning back to throw yourself on the couch.

When Melissa opens the door, all you hear is, “took you long enough.”

“Fuck d’ya expect showing up unannounced?” Melissa matches the annoyed tone of whoever’s at the door, moving aside to let them in. Blond and tall with the same Schemmenti resting-murder face. This has to be Kristen Marie, the ‘sfigata ass sister’ Melissa mentions from time to time.

“The hell are you?” The blond looks at you, no attempt to hide the judgment behind her eyes. A quick glance to Melissa, who’s glaring back, tells you to lie. You introduce yourself only as one of Melissa’s friends, the mention of knowing Shauna, however, seems to make Kristen less defensive. A sigh of relief leaves the redhead, you hadn’t been caught. A sigh of disappointment leaves your own lips.

Weeks later, Melissa’s phone rings while you’re both chopping vegetables for dinner. She mutters an apology as she pauses your conversation, showing you the contact Mama on the screen. You pretend to zip your lips with a little grin, going back to chopping the bell peppers she tasked you with.

“Hey, Ma,” Melissa says into the phone as she puts it between her ear and shoulder, freeing her hands to chop the onion. “Nah, just making dinner. I can’t stay on long, I got company,” she bumps your hip with hers, laughing at whatever her mother says before answering, “no, weirdo, not that kind of company… I’ll ask, hold on.”

Putting her phone to her chest to cover the speaker, she asks, “my mother would like to know if you’re a complete freak?”

“Contextually, yes and no,” you say, reveling in Melissa’s bursted laughter, “but tell her no.”

“No more than I am, Ma,” she says when she brings her phone back to her ear, pinching your ass as she stifles a laugh while her mom keeps speaking. The hand around your heart has pink acrylics.

In the passing months, a change you weren’t expecting comes, and you hope that if you don’t acknowledge it, it will stay this way. An undercover Eurydice.

Most nights, Melissa barely let you get out a greeting before you were pinned against the door, lips on your, hands roaming under your shirt. Some nights she was slow, gentle, loving almost, taking her time and kissing every inch of you. Those nights made it hard to separate the feelings you have from the ones she dances around talking about.

There are other days though, your favorite days. Ones like tonight, where both of you are exhausted and just want to no longer exist to the world. Instead, you feel as though you’re in your own world out here on her back porch. You peek over at Melissa as you take a hit from a joint you packed before driving over, eyes closed, Melissa doesn’t see you.

Watching closer than you should, your eyes stay on her as she moves to take a sip of the Cabarnet you bought only for her. The way her lips kiss the glass, how she licks her lips to never waste a drop. If she asked, you’d gladly kiss away rogue droplets of wine. She’s beautiful, truly beautiful. She knows it, but she doesn’t really believe it, always rolling her eyes when you mumble it against her thighs. You wish you could tell her whenever the thought crossed your mind, every time you look at her. Exhaling, you turn away, mouthing a silent fuck to yourself. Bringing the J to your lips, you try to keep from being caught.

Melissa’s head drops, propping her chin on her shoulder with droopy eyes, “can we just sleep tonight? ‘M slipping into a coma over here.”

You chuckle, copying her pose, rose-tinted eyes flitting over her, “sounds great.”

For the first time in five months, Melissa holds you as you both fall asleep in the center of the bed.

You love these nights, ones where you can pretend Melissa is just as much yours as you are hers.

A cruel, ten month anniversary gift of sorts comes in the form of a friend in the hospital cafeteria.

Your phone pings where it sits in your scrub shirt pocket, your chest tightens.

Melissa: I’ll be home around 6, if you’re free tonight.

The grin on your face is not unnoticed by your friend as she sits back in front of you. Shauna taps the table to get your attention, “that your girl?”

“She’s not my girl,” you mumble, typing out a reply to Melissa.

when am i not free for you?

Shauna scoffs, speaking under her breath, “like you actually think that.”

You place your phone back on the table with a little force, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“She’s just using you, honey,” Shauna blurts, “you’re at her beck and call, and all she wants is sex. And I know you, that’s not what you want.”

“And what do I want, oh wise one?”

“Her,” she replies. “I’ve known you too long to not know that you’re in love with her. I’ve also known Mel long enough to say that she is going to break your heart.”

You kiss your teeth, “what do you know about what Melissa wants?”

Shauna doesn’t appreciate your defensive attitude, so she gives you the hard truth, “she said this whole thing is just casual. Pretty stress relief, I think were her exact words.”

You are stress relief, nothing more. Another ping.

Melissa: See you then baby.

—☽—

When you arrive on Melissa’s doorstep, you desperately want to turn and run, save yourself before you feel any more. The equally desperate need to be near her knocks for you, but when she answers, you can barely meet her gaze. Green eyes flick from your face to your wringing hands, pink lips shifting to a frown.

“What’s bothering you?” Melissa asks gently, locking the door behind you. When you shake your head, struggling to kick your shoe off, her arms wrap around your waist, chin on your shoulder. She feels you stiffen, pouting to herself, “I know something’s wrong, you look like Eeyore in torrential downpour.”

You huff a laugh and lean against her, “just… stress.”

“Hmm,” glossy lips press to your neck, soft and slow, “want me to get rid of some of that?” The feeling of her hands on you is so convincing, it overrides what you know you should do. Turning in her arms, you press your lips into her and let her take control.

Her mouth wraps around your nipple, thumb slowly torturing your clit as her fingers work you through your third orgasm. From the twitch of your hips, she knows you’re at your limit, carefully removing her fingers from you. Greedy hands tug at her, pulling her to your lips as you flip your bodies, straddling her hips. Traveling down, you delight in her whimpers as you suck at her skin, leaving behind marks comparable to the wine she loves.

Your hands spread her legs, taking your rightful place between them. Sensual, slow, loving kisses down her soft stomach, all leading to where she needs you most. Her hips buck as you get closer to her center, breath tickling her pearl. With a flat tongue, you fulfill her wish, licking a stripe from the base of her slit to her clit, moaning into her. Hands harshly grip your hair, tugging when you suck on her clit. Your own hand slides from her strong thigh to her plush breasts, toying with her nipples as you devour her.

Husky pants draw from her throat, pitchy whines breaking through when your fingers begin to toy with her entrance. Neither of you care about the phone ringing from the nightstand. All you can hear is hoarse moans of oh god and please, faster, all you feel, taste, and smell, is Melissa. You both peer to the nightstand when it rings again, desperately trying to ignore it. A second finger enters Melissa as her attention falls back on you, her eyes meeting yours as she moans, fueling your desire.

A third ringing of the phone almost makes her scream, and tapping your shoulder with vigor to stop you before the phone is forced to ring again. You quickly, and gently, retract your fingers, allowing Melissa to shakily reach for her phone. The blood drains from her face as she looks at the screen, staring at you where you rest on her thigh, answering with a gulp.

“H-” she clears her throat, “hey, ma.” Your eyes almost bulge from your head. “I was in the middle of a shower, sorry,” she gets out quickly, nearly laughing at herself and you purse your lips to contain your own giggle, “well, the kids had a project with glitter, had to get it off.”

“Get something off,” you mumble quietly, pressing a kiss to the junction of her hip. Melissa playfully smacks your arm as she listens to her mother, pressing her finger to her grinning lips.

“Well, I got a friend over right now…” Friend. “Yes, the freak,” she chuckles warmly, patting your hand before her hand freezes on yours, “oh- I… can ask.” Her eyes leave her lap, now looking to you, “wanna go get dinner at Cirillo’s? My parent’s treat.”

Your eyebrows rise, “do you… want me to go?” You’ve met Kristen Marie, and only quickly ran into her cousin Vinny, but her parents were a whole other story.

“Wouldn’t have offered otherwise,” it feels genuine. You nod.

Arturo and Giorgia Schemmenti are exactly who would expect Melissa’s parents to be. Giorgia shares suspicion openly on her face, Arturo, on the other hand, has a resting smile. You think in the moment, you’ve got them figured out, but the way they unblinkingly look when you speak terrifies you, as if they’re analyzing every breath you take and every twitch of your hand. Silent prayers from both you and Melissa ask they don’t realize you were forced to wear one of her shirts, having arrived to her place in an ancient sweatshirt from your backseat.

You answer every question they ask you, although confused on the need to grill you so closely. What do you do for work? How many siblings? Ever gotten a speeding ticket? How’s your relationship with your parents? Do you have any sexually transmitted diseases? Thoughts on Reagan? Ever cheated on one of your past partners? MRI technician, sir. Two brothers. Twice, one on my way to school, one on my way to the hospital for my grandmother. Not great, I guess? No, ma’am, I get tested every two months. Hope he’s in hell. No, God, no.

“Lord, you two, let up. We haven’t even gotten the tzatziki yet,” Melissa says, laying the drinks menu down on the table.

“Just trynna get to know your friend, Meli,” Arturo turns his attention to you, “swear, all the girl does is talk about you, and I still know nothing.” The ringed hand at the edge of the table clenches, knuckles white.

You just shrug, “afraid I’m not that interesting.” I’m just a friend. 

You miss how Melissa looks at you, brows turned up as she glimpses your sad smile. However, you feel a warm hand go to your thigh, squeezing gently. When her parents' attention diverts to a large party walking in, she whispers in your ear, “I don’t like when you talk about yourself like that, you’re very interesting. Should know, I’ve studied every inch of you for hours.”

It takes a deep breath and every ounce of strength to not wiggle in your seat. Reprieve comes in the shape of a definitely stoned server, lucky bastard, and reprieve is taken away when he tells you that food may be a little delayed due to the rush. Melissa’s parents nod with understanding, you nod with fear bubbling. A delay means longer here, with Melissa’s hand on your thigh with her parents speaking about everything and nothing from across the table.

It’s getting harder and harder to focus with Melissa’s fingers drawing little patterns over your jeans, skin burning beneath her touch. Peering over at her, you can see an almost-hidden mark from early, the easy smile on her lips as she talks to her dad, she’s perfect in your eyes. In this lighting, it’s hard to look away from her, orange-hued lights making her look golden.

Rising from your chair, you just give a quiet, “I’ll be right back.” You turn to walk towards the restrooms, desperate for space away from judging hazel and green eyes across the table. Melissa watches your direction, excusing herself too, following where you disappeared under the sign reading τουαλέτα.

In the short hallway, she grabs your wrist before you enter the door, pulling you to the family room to the right. Locking the door, she places her hands on your hips, “are they freaking you out? I’ll tell them to knock it off, or we can go, say you’re on call or something.”

“No,” you say, place your palms against her shoulders, “it’s just overwhelming, all the questions, your dad asking for my credit score, I don’t know.”

“You didn’t have to tell him,” she chuckles, hands dipping to your ass.

You shiver from her touch, leaning into her, “it’s a good score, though.”

“It is,” you barely hear her words as she presses her lips to yours, all the energy from earlier still running through her veins. Your hands slide down her arms to her hips, pushing her back towards the sink. We’ve been here before.

Hopping up, she settles against the porcelain and opens her legs to let you stand between them. Keeping your lips on hers, you quickly unbutton her jeans, forcing the zipping down. You know her like the back of your hand at this point, know how to touch her to make her writhe and release around your fingers, you’re utterly devoted to her pleasure.

The previously ruined orgasm comes back quickly with full force, her clenching around you quickly. Her lips leave yours, shoving her face into your shoulder to mute her moans. Lips brushing the shell of her ear, you circle your thumb over her clit and whisper, “God, you are so beautiful. C’mon, baby, cum for me.”

Teeth chomp into your shoulder as her writhing becomes erratic against your hand before slowing as she relaxes against you. Her breathing evens out, quicker than you expect, her face becoming unreadable as it lifts from its hiding place. Surprisingly, she stays silently leaned against you as you wash your hands, letting you fix her hair before you fix your own.

Arturo and Giorgia seemingly notice nothing, believing the excuse of a busy line, one visible from your seats. If they don’t believe you, they don’t give anything away, though their questions ease up once the food comes. It must be a Schemmenti thing to be quiet for the first few bites of food, taking in every flavor. It’s endearing.

Both Schemmenti’s hug you, to even more surprise, telling you how delightful it was to put a face to a commonly brought up name. Melissa pinches the bridge of her nose before hugging her mother, mumbling something to the woman before embracing her father.

The entire drive back to her house, you can’t find it in you to speak, too lost in thought. Melissa talks about you, often, often enough that her parents wanted to meet you. Why would they question you so much, especially if you’re just their daughter’s friend? Wanting to know about your ‘past’ relationships, as opposed to what, your… current one? It hits you embarrassingly late, as Melissa pulls into the driveway: her parents think she’s talking about you because she’s dating you, and think she just hasn’t officially told them. All you can do is turn and look at her, bewildered.

Hand on the key in the ignition, Melissa turns and looks at you, “I don’t know about you, but I’m exha- What?” When she doesn’t get an answer, her face screws with worry, “what’s wrong, baby?”

Blinking rapidly, you scan over her face, “you talk about me to your parents.”

“Well I’m with you a lot, it's natural to talk about you,” she says like it’s obvious, turning off the car.

“Enough that your parents wanted to meet me, know about my family and dating history?”

Her face hardens, and you wish you’d never spoken, her voice demands respect “well, they got the wrong idea. Being nosy is in their blood, being right isn’t.”

“Okay,” you’re exasperated. 

“You and I, this isn’t a relationship, no expectations, no attachments. Just good, old-fashioned sex between friends,” Melissa says slowly, brow raised, “capisce?”

“Yeah…Capisce,” you say, stepping out of the car, pulling your keys from your pocket.

“What are you doing?” Melissa says, realizing you aren’t behind her as she goes to the front door.

You turn and face her, standing in the open car door, “I’m going home. You want no attachments, I can’t give that to you anymore.”

She steps down from the bottom step, “Baby-”

“Don’t. I don’t want you to be in something you don’t want, you want casual, Melissa. Stress relief,” her eyes dart to you at the wording, your eyes look down to your feet, “what I feel for you, it’s beyond that, beyond what you want me to feel.”

“You don’t know what I want,” she gets closer, hand reaching for you, but you brush her off.

“I’m all you want until I want you.” When she doesn’t reply, you sit and close the door, pulling out of the driveway with Melissa staring where you’d stood.

—☽—

Two weeks of radio silence. This is the longest in the near year you’ve spent with Melissa where you haven’t seen one another. Last time it was four days after you brought up a date for the second time, six days before that when she found out that Kristen Marie called you when she was drunk and needed a ride home from God-knows-where, begging you to not tell Melissa, accidentally blurting it herself.

You wish you didn’t miss her, her laugh, the smell of eucalyptus shampoo, her touch, her eyes, her hands, her smile, her little dance when she takes food out of the oven. She was all that surrounded you for so long, it’s all you know. It feels wrong to be without her, but it hurts to think about her. Salt entered the wound when Shauna dared to mention Melissa going on a date with some vending machine guy, immediate regret when you got up and left soon after. You're thankful to not hear of him again.

Another week passes, and as a month gets closer to passing, the hole in your chest has yet to heal over. Your phone buzzes next to you where you blankly watch the documentary that was playing.

From Shauna: i fucked up. apologies to ur door in advance

To Shauna: thank u for the context

From Shauna: i poked the ginger bear

From Shauna: by poked i mean chewed out

To Shauna: again, i fear the context has yet to appear

From Shauna: yelled at ur ex-mommy for treating you like a toy from spencers

To Shauna: i’ll pass on your apology to my door in my will

Comedic timing is a very real thing, hard knocking on your door, clearly both fists meeting the wood.

Ripping the door open, you stare down a tired-eyed, yet irate, Melissa, “unnecessary. I have a buzzer.”

“And I have a Cost-Co card,” she says, pushing her way into your home.

“What are you doing here?”

Hands on her hips, she turns and faces you, “your- I’d say our, but not right now- your friend just chewed me a new one about leading you on. Leading you on?! As if we didn’t have an arrangement, no feelings, just sex.”

“An agreement that I ended! Because I got feelings! It wasn’t just sex for me, it stopped being just sex a long time ago,” you never thought you’d be raising your voice at her like this, “I tried to tell you, all those dates I offered, everything I’ve ever said to you, I meant all of it. And what do I get? No, baby, we’re casual. So, I tapped out.”

“Because we were casual! There’s supposed to be no feelings here!”

“Then how’s that vending machine guy, huh? He’s been having conversations with just your tits for months, and he got a date, but where is he now?” She flounders. “Did you take him home? Or try?” She nods imperceptibly. “I would bet my whole life savings on the fact he probably couldn’t even get you wet, let alone make you cum. How right am I?”

Her lips tremble, “that’s not the point.”

“Just a question, needs an answer.” Melissa shakes her head, confirming your suspicions. “Why are you actually here, Melissa?”

Emerald eyes look into yours, emotion swirling through them as she asks quietly, “do you still have feelings for me?”

You won’t lie, you never can with her, “haven’t wavered once.”

Carefully, Melissa steps slowly into your space, hands coming to your sides, “I’m stupid. So fucking stupid. I thought all I wanted was sex, but when you left and I tried to just make myself… move on. It didn’t feel the same, being alone doesn’t feel the same. It’s so stupid and cliché and stupid that it took you leaving me to realize… Fuck, I feel like a Jane Austen character.”

Weary hands rise to her face, holding her with a special reverence, “I need to hear you say it.” The magnetic pull between you brings you into her, lips only an inch from her own.

Fingers grip your shirt, “I… I love you. I have since you told the Jehovah’s Witnesses to eat a bag of locusts and ass on Christmas Eve.”

The little smile that plays on her lips, clearly picturing the memory, it heals something in you. Brushing your lips against hers, you mumble, “I love you, too. ”

The kiss she presses to your lips is so different from any other you’d shared, but the desperation brings you back to that first night in the bathroom. Tongues graze, and a fire is ignited. Spinning her, you walk her back towards your bedroom, a place she’s only been twice in the last year.

Falling as her knees hit the bed, she takes you with her, and you gladly take your place. Just as the last time you were with her, you straddle her waist, continuing to kiss her with all the emotion you can express. Ringed fingers tug at your shirt, begging for contact. You don’t deny her, nor yourself, pulling her shirt off of her after yours, both lost on the floor. Jeans fly to meet them soon after.

Lips, tongue, and teeth clash as you fall into the feeling of each other’s skin. Moving down, you nip at her neck, sucking roughly on her pulse point to leave a mark. You continue your mission down her chest, leaving red splotches across her breasts. Always so sensitive, Melissa arches into your affections, groaning when your tongue swirls around her nipple, leaving a string of saliva that connects you to it as you pull away.

Shifting lower and lower, giving her abdomen attention, soft kisses trailing down. Your lips trail over silvery stretch marks, following as they lead you to her plush thighs. Teeth wrap around the waistband of her thong, eyes glancing to her as a silent request of permission.

“Please, baby,” her voice airy and whiny as she basks in the affection you so readily give her.

Pulling down her thong, tossing it to the side, your eyes fall to her pussy. Lips blooming in arousal, clit swollen, begging for a touch it hasn’t received in too long. You press a gentle kiss to her pearl, hearing another whine pass her lips, hips bucking slightly for you.

How you missed her. Your tongue licks up her slit, gathering the wetness that accumulated there, dancing up around her clit. A divine taste so feminine, so uniquely Melissa, you moan into her as you grip her thighs, working your tongue into her opening. Dusty purple nails dig into your hand, and you flip your wrist to interlock your fingers, feeling her squeeze tightly.

Your tongue leaves her, much to her dismay. Blown out eyes follow your reach to the nightstand, a clear bottle of lube procured. Your lips press to hers again as you spread the lube across your fingers and lower your hand to her entrance, replacing the contact of your tongue. Throaty moans leave her lips, more, please. Slowly, your ring finger joins the middle, allowing her a moment to adjust before quickening your motions, moaning yourself at the feeling of her cunt gripping your fingers.

“You’re so beautiful,” you say against her lips, “so beautiful.” Teeth pull at her bottom lip, making her groan into your mouth, kiss going sloppy.

“I- oh- I love you,” Melissa answers through a moan, grinding against your thumb on her sensitive bud. A particular curl of your fingers makes her silently scream, soothed by your gentle mouthing of her neck.

Your index finger lines with her slit, “can you take more?”

She nods quickly, forcing your lips back to hers as a third finger stretches slowly, moans turning squeaky. All you can hear is the airy moans and the wetness of her pussy taking your fingers, sparking a warmth in your lower stomach. You can feel how close she is, how her walls refuse to let go, how her eyes flutter as they roll back.

In a sudden moment, your fingers stop, pulling from her. Her head snaps up, eyes immediately on you, “what are you doing?” God, the glassy look in your eyes almost breaks your heart.

“Hold on, gorgeous,” you say, pressing a quick kiss to her chest. Leaning over to the nightstand again, still straddling Melissa’s waist as her hands hold yours, you blindly reach into the drawer, searching for a familiar object. Finding the small, flat toy, you sit back against her, holding it to her eye level. Catching your drift, she nods, legs widening as she sits up slightly against the headboard.

Pressing the vibrator against her thigh, you turn it to the middle setting, feeling her jump a little at the sensation. Slowly, you slide it closer to her clit, using your free hand to slide one of her legs till it’s propped up. Lowering yourself, you press your clit against the top of the toy, keeping it pressed between your heat and hers, both of you moaning in unison.

Rolling your hips, a breathless moan leaves you, ducking your head as your eyes close in ecstasy. Sharp nails dig into your ass, pulling you down further, moans crescendoing. It feels like you’re too far from her, immediately dropping to press your lips to hers in open-mouthed kisses, whining against her lips as she holds you to her. Using her thigh for leverage, you use your own leg to press harder to her cunt, rolling against her in a way that forces her teeth into your shoulder.

The strong vibration against your clit and Melissa’s presence alone has you holding on by a thread, and from the way the redhead is holding onto you, you know she is too. Putting your weight fully on your right hand, your left grabs Melissa’s, tangling your fingers together. Her lips move languidly across yours, tongue dancing with yours rather than fighting for dominance, something she never did before. The emotions of it all and the coil snapping in your stomach, your forehead drops to her shoulder, panting as you feel your climax approach.

“Baby, ple-oh-please,” the hand creating crescent-shaped dents in your back shifts to your hair.

“I gotchu, let go for me,” your teeth tug at her earlobe, “cum for me, beautiful.”

A final, hard roll of your hips sets you both alight, moaning as you cum in tandem.

Both of you squirm as the toy works against you still. Lifting off her, you remove the toy from its place against her, turning it off and placing it on the nightstand to be dealt with later. Lowering yourself, you come face to face with her pussy, swollen and wet and beautiful. With gentle strokes, you lick her clean, taking your time to savor her taste.

Melissa’s husky moans spur you on, lapping up to her sensitive clit. Barely suckling on the nub has her tensing again, her grip on you doesn’t let you go far, not that you were planning on it regardless. She cums on your tongue, giving you a taste once more. Sweet decadence.

Easing your way back up with loving kisses up her body, laying on your side next to her, chest to chest. Your legs stay tangled together, no space exists between you.

The hand not in hers rises to her face, pushing loose, wild hair away, caressing her cheek. Melissa turns her head to press a kiss to your thumb, her own hand coming to your wrist.

“I love you,” she says, “I really, really do.”

You stroke her cheek again, “I love you, too.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you how I did,” her eyes water, “I don’t have any excuses. I’m just so sorry, baby.”

“Well, we’ve got all the time you want with me to make it up to me,” you say, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose.

She smiles weakly, “I want all the time with you.”

Your lips press to her lips this time, “then that’s what you get.” Leaning across you, Melissa puts herself on your lap, her favorite place to sit. Face hovering above yours for only a moment, she tucks herself into the crook of your neck, keeping her weight on top of you.

Sticky with sweat, the scent of sex around you, the tracing of nails up and down your sides, dancing over your ribs. Nothing has changed and everything has. You have always been Melissa’s, she has always been yours, now you finally have each other. Warm breath over your neck evens out, the lost sleep and recently lost energy catching up to her. You, however, you are invigorated.

For the first time in a year, you get to hold your Melissa.

kudos to anyone that can find all the song references and the singular lisa ann reference that is so small u will miss it

as towa bird says: scissor your friends!

feed back appreciated as always <3

[strsburn]

willing to give ★ ꒰ miguel o'hara ꒱

pairing - miguel o'hara x fem! reader

synopsis - what the two of you have, has never been real, until it is.

see also - you've danced the line between lust, and love with miguel far too many times. what's one more?

warnings - breeding kink, fwb to lovers, biting kink, choking kink, miguel being emotionally constipated, feelings feeling feelings !

notes - watched atsv this weekend, i went for oscar issac & my love for spider-man & immediately fell in love with another fictional man sigh

i might make a part two?? idk it depends on if people like this, i am trying

i took a lot of inspiration from this song

"Cállate el hocico."

You blanch, the dimple between your brows twitching in the familiar notes of anger. An emotion you've come to favor when being in any vicinity of Miguel o'Hara.

"Quitate la ropa."

His voice is tinged with impatience, and you know it isn't a suggestion. You know you could easily leave, rebuff his advances, and be on your way. You've done this dance many times before.

Yet, you only glare as you shed your clothes. Faux annoyance painting your face as Miguel smirks, basking in the fact that despite your words, you always find yourself under him.

"Fuck." You're unable to hold in a gasp as he breaches you, your slick making the glide easy as he fills you to the brim.

He mutters curses underneath his breath as he grasps your hips so tightly, stars burst beneath your eyelids, and you know this is effecting him as much as it is you.

You both moan as his cock touches your cervix, his length reaching places no other man could even come close to. He pulls back, the tip catching on your clit, he meets your eyes, the red hue darkening, looking expectant.

Finding something in your gaze, he tightens his grip, talons digging into your skin, and thrusts. The air is punched out of your lungs as he touches your cervix once again.

He doesn't give you time to recuperate as he picks up the pace, the ridges of his cock brushing against your sensitive walls adding to the pleasure that lights every nerve of your pussy.

You dig your fingernails into his back, dragging them down the arch of his shoulders as he whines feeling the skin break beneath your hands.

"Are you going to come for me, cosa bonita?" He whispers, fangs nibbling on the outer lobe of your ear. You shiver, the low drawl of his voice causing you to clench tighter around his cock.

You open your mouth, trying to form some type of response, but all that greets your ears is your own high pitched cry as he shifts your legs to rest closer to your chest, opening you wider for his ministrations.

In this position he reaches deeper, and all sense of coherence is lost as you feel your orgasm approaching.

"Hmm, you don't have a lot to say now, do you? Too busy being split open on my nice big cock."

He chuckles, the sound dripping with arrogance as he grips your throat, his thrusts becoming unhinged, and animalistic.

You reach a hand for your stomach, moaning as you feel the bulge embedded in your skin, his cock moving beneath it.

You whine as he suddenly pulls out of you, disrupting your climax as the source of your pleasure is snatched.

Before you can complain, he flips you, bending you over the control board as he pushes your head down, adjusting you as if you were a doll made for his release.

The idea further arouses you, and you blush as you feel more slick decorate your entrance.

Miguel must see it, as he chuckles, smoothing a hand down your cunt, fingertips gliding across your lips, bringing back the evidence of your lust

He brings his digits to your mouth, and you oblige, opening your mouth wordlessly as he brushes his fingertips across your tongue, your eyes closing as you taste yourself.

"Así que niña chica." He praises, trailing his fingers across your cheek as you hum.

He leaves a kiss down your spine as he grips your hips, before entering you once more.

His pace is unhurried, careful in his rhythm as he touches your cervix with each movement, his hands caressing your tits between thrusts.

You reach behind you to grasp for his hand, bringing it back to your throat as you feel him twitch inside you.

His fingers curl around your throat firm but not to the point of pain, and you moan as you feel your end approaching.

Miguel is not far behind, and you gasp as he brings you to his chest, his hand trailing low to your clit as he flicks it gently.

"You look so pretty on my cock like this, mi chica bonita. Are you going to come?" He asks teasingly, despite his soft tone.

"Y-yes." You cry out as he ups the pace, the tip of his cock now pounding on your cervix, pulsing with his own impending peak.

"Going to fill this pretty cunt up, get you swollen with my baby." He murmurs under his breath, most likely to himself. Yet the words reach your ears, and you quiver, the dam breaking as your orgasm overcomes you.

You spasm around his cock, crying out as he curses, his hand leaving your throat to grasp your thigh as he continues to thrust in your oversensitive pussy, grasping at his own end.

"W-where?" He pants, and you know what he's asking for, even as he struggles to pull out.

"Inside." You plead, fingers turning white with the grip you have on the control board.

He pants deeply, voice bordering on a growl as he paints your walls with his cum, thrusting softly to make sure none of it is wasted. You feel a sharp sting on your neck, and you gasp as you realize in the throes of your pleasure he sunk his fangs into you.

You tremble as another orgrasm rushes through you at the thought, and you both struggle to catch your breath.

As he pulls out of you, you straighten up, bending to reach for your clothes as you follow the routine the pair of you had developed.

You are no more than an temporary distraction, an aspirin for an ongoing headache, only taken when needed.

No more than that.

A warm hand on your arm disrupts your self loathing, and you look up.

Miguel's gaze is unreadable, hair unkempt from your romp, fangs tainted with your blood.

He looks away from you, as he readjusts his pants.

"There's still things to do." He states, and while a normal person would be offended especially after such an intimate fuck, you recognize the offer for what it is.

You smile, pulling your clothes on, wincing as your shirt catches on the swollen skin of your neck.

As if remembering what he did, Miguel approaches you, fingers trailing the skin softly.

You accept the unspoken apology, resting your hand over his.

Something has changed between you, and you know that this won't be the last time you find yourself underneath him. The notion doesn't bother you too much.

© strsburn | all rights reserved

translations ;

cállate la hocico - shut up

quitate la ropa - take off your clothes

cosa bonita - pretty thing

la buena chica - good girl

mi chica bonita - my pretty girl

[enden-agolor]

i fucking LOVE the way you draw/write jesse, as someone with a chubby/buff build i kind of struggle with insecurities about my size but the way you draw him makes me feel very good. idk im describing it badly but i wanted to ask if your design for him is more chubby or muscly?

Dude thank you 🥺🩵 You described it very well.

It really depends on which time frame I'm drawing Jesse in actually.

In the beginning, I imagine Jesse is quite scrawny. I mean did you see his work out routine in the beginning? He was was doing sit ups and punching flowers. He was definitely lacking muscle (but had enough to be able to lift Reuben up and down that ladder) and as the first couple episodes progress, he stays scrawny but progressively becomes more scarred up until the Portal Hallway episodes.

The Portal Hallway episodes, it takes place many months after the events of the Witherstorm. Jesse and his friends are going on many more adventures, really honing their skills that they acquired over the past few months. Jesse is much more built now. He's buff and tough with the true heart of a hero. Although, once he and his friends get stuck in the Portal Hall, that's when things take a really devastating turn for him. Feeling hopeless and lost for weeks on end, he begins to feel withdrawn from the positivity he was feeling before he ended up stuck here. Traumatic events keep occuring, and with these events, Jesse is of course drawn to remember and replay the events of Reuben's death in his head. He keeps the most of these feelings to himself because his group is already feeling so disheartened about their current situation that the last thing he'd want for them is to know that he's breaking emotionally, so he ends up taking less care of himself. He starts eating with the idea that he has to stay strong for his friends, but even those moments are rare. Food is scarce depending on what portal they are in, so when he finds food, he'll take anything that will keep his energy and strengths up.

By the end of it all, he's actually put on a significant amount of muscle. But it's kind of like a 'at what cost?' scenario.

Things get a bit better for him between then and Season 2 where he's eating better again and keeping all that muscle, but once Season 2 comes and goes, and with everything that happens in the Sunshine Institute and the Underneath, he loses a lot of weight.

It's only after Season 2, where he stays in BeaconTown and eventually finds a love life with Lukas when he really begins putting on weight once again. He's done with hero work. He's done with going on crazy life threatening adventures. Now he just wants to live life for himself rather than putting others first. Lukas helps him a lot through this, with body positivity and lots of love and affectionate touch, it's all the reassurance Jesse has ever needed to feel okay with being himself again. So he ends up putting on that happy weight that couples typically adopt over time when they're in a healthy relationship. Lukas treats him so, so unbelievably well. Finally Jesse gets to eat food for himself without the idea of needing to keep himself strong and powerful once he's finally retired. He indulges himself in his sweet tooth and loves to eat cookies, cakes, and other baked goods that Lukas will bake or bring home. He also really enjoys the fact that he doesn't have to eat alone anymore. He loves sitting at the table and enjoying a meal with his hubby. And the best part, which is something Jesse was horribly self conscious about, is that Lukas loves and adores his pudge. He is so supportive of Jesse's eating habits, but he doesn't hesitate to sneak veggies and fruits into Jesse's lunch box for work.

So yeah uh Jesse is chubby, buff and loved at the end of it all 😍

Here's some lil doodles of him I have lying around. The first one is pretty old and could probably use a touch up since now I don't see much of a difference, but you get the point ☠️

[dirtysvthoughts]

the jihoon brain rot continues besties 🥹 this is inspired by @bluejeanstrash who (as far as i know) came up with the idea of rich ceo husband! jihoon, and this year’s gda has given me so much ideas:

tags/warnings: rich ceo husband! jihoon, wife! reader, fluff to smut, smut portion contains pet names (darling, pretty baby, etc.), mentions of sexting and nudes, thigh riding, mentions of fingering, ass grabbing, he’s just so hot y’all and i’m upset i can’t have him do things to me 🙃

rich ceo husband! jihoon who would:

absolutely love spoiling you as his pretty wife, even of you don’t ask for it. one day, you came home to a beautiful, expensive silver necklace with a note attached that read: “just cause. i love my darling.” - JH

cater to you in more ways than one - everyday when he gets off work he’s calling and asking if you need anything, a meal, something from the store, whatever you may need, he’s going to fulfill it for you. if he can’t go out and get himself, he’s gonna send someone to get it for him.

be the type to kiss you on your forehead while you sleep before he goes off to work in the morning.

like the original author said, everyone in the company knows who you are and they don’t dare disrespect you. if jihoon finds out that you’ve been disrespected, they’re getting fired on the spot. he doesn’t play about you.

adore you physically (from head to toe) and emotionally. you found each other at the right time in your lives, and you mean so much to him. even though he’s not the best with his words, he wants to prove how much he loves you with his actions.

now for what y’all have been waiting for:

whenever he wears his ap or other luxury watches on his wrist, your pussy can’t help but clench. a hot man with an expensive watch on hand is such a lethal combo.

sometimes when jihoon has to stay at the company late (dealing with one of his artists or another business venture), he can expect some form of a sext, sensual pic, or even a nude from you when you’re needy. you lace your message with such sweetness (“daddy come home, please? 🥺🥺) that is has him wanting to tease you, but it has him craving for you too. he ends up just telling you to wait patiently like a good girl until he comes home.

rich ceo husband! jihoon has such soft dom! vibes, he loves fucking you against the mattress, hearing your cute little voice call for him, hearing you whine for more. would say stuff along the lines of “mmmm, take this dick, just like that.. fuck yeah, pretty baby” and “say my name again, you make it sound so pretty in that mouth of yours.” also, jihoon would definitely adore you calling him sir!

many a late night is spent at home with you riding his thighs, both of you on the sectional that takes up most of the living room. his suit jacket is tossed on another side of the couch, his white button down has the sleeves rolled up, his black tie is a little loose, and his long hair falling delicately on his eyes. jihoon LOVES roaming his hands across your legs, waist, but he loves it even more when he grabs your ass and you bite your lip in response. when you’ve come all over his pants, and his dick is hard from how good you are, you’re kissing his neck and jihoon’s caressing your face, telling you to take off your panties so he can finger your wet cunt next.

[david-talks-sw]

I got a good feeling about "The Acolyte"

Not even kidding. Like, I've spoken before about why I'm wary of it.

George Lucas' Star Wars is something that intentionally has black and white morality, rather than shades of gray. Those movies are meant for kids and projecting a "gray" morality onto them then proclaiming it was George's vision all along is doing so in bad faith.

The narrative of the Prequels doesn't frame the Prequel Jedi in as negative a light as Leslye Headland, Dave Filoni, etc etc do.

See here for more details, but bottom line: yeah, a show that has a darksider as the underdog is bound to demonize the Jedi (who are the actual underdogs in the Prequels), and obviously that rubs me the wrong way.

BUT.

The trailer looks fucking cool. It really really does.

And more importantly? I've done some research... and Leslye Headland is ticking a lot of good boxes, in my book.

1. The Acolyte won't be a 10-hour movie.

I've criticized Disney Plus shows before, explaining that a big source for most of their issues is that these series are being structured as "long movies" rather than, y'know, actual shows.

But in this interview with Collider, Headland addresses that: it'll be a series. Not a long movie that you need to watch across four weeks.

Thank God. You have no idea how much that comforts me. Finally a showrunner who's, y'know, actually running a show.

And this goes hand in hand with what she told IGN, here, about how she's going about building suspense.

Yes! Exactly! That's how it's supposed to be!

Like, compare this to Baylan Skoll's storyline in Ahsoka.

In no possible way was that emotionally-fulfilling. For 8 episodes we had no idea what he was after, and the season ended where we still don't know. What does he want? What is he after? Your guess is as good as mine, it's something Mortis-related.

So yeah. Maybe getting the Emmy-nominated trained screenwriter on board to run this was a good idea.

2. Maybe the Jedi will not be as demonized as I originally thought.

Don't get me wrong. 80% of what she says about the Jedi makes me cringe. It's the typical fan's interpretation and y'all know I disagree with that interpretation.

It's painful to see her refer to the Jedi as an institution (not how the Prequels' narrative frames them) and to see her frame "Balance" in the "oh there's so many of them and just two Sith, that means the Force is out of balance" meaning... but at least she acknowledges the Jedi are a benevolent institution.

They're not an "elitist force hiding in their ivory tower" as others have described the Jedi.

Moreover, there'll be a variety of Jedi POVs, many personalities.

Yord Fandar, is described as a strictly by-the-book Jedi Knight and guardian from the Jedi Temple, is an overachiever and a rule follower.

The question now becomes: will the narrative frame him as "your typical Jedi" or is it just this one guy? I'm hoping it's the latter.

I also like how her reasoning goes re: Jedi drawing their lightsabers.

Which explains the hand-to-hand combat seen in the trailer.

This teenager is coming at Carrie-Ann Moss with a dagger, of course the Jedi won't draw her saber.

3. She's a fan of Star Wars... but a screenwriter first.

You can tell in the interviews she's a fan. She's using words like "BBY" and "EU" casually. In the above-linked interviews she's bringing up the Nightsisters, Timothy Zahn, The Clone Wars, she mentions she has a tattoo of Ralph McQuarrie's concept art of Leia, the High Republic books, etc.

She's done her homework. She's a fan.

But the vibe I'm getting from these interviews is that she's weaving in these various lore-elements in a more organic way, rather than in the "fan-servicey" way Dave Filoni has been doing in his shows.

The references and Easter Eggs will be there, but the narrative won't bend over itself just so you can get it. Crafting a good story comes first, and Andor is a beautiful illustration of why this is true.

Which is why I was never bothered about one of the writers never having watched Star Wars before getting the job. You need those fresh eyes when you're tackling something of this scale.

That makes sense to me. Maybe it's because of my own screenwriting experience, but yeah. That out-of-the box perspective is precious.

And like, obviously, that writer watched the films eventually, but for some reason everyone who bitched about Headland omitted that detail and opted for a more bad faith interpretation.

Hm. Wonder why.

Maybe it's the same reason that months ago this clipped audio circulated socials without context, in which she debates whether Star Wars only came from George Lucas and only Lucas is the key.

The FULL context of that interview reveals that she's actually:

debating the "autheur director" myth and positing that it was achieved by a collective of excellent filmmakers and craftspeople that George was skilled and smart enough to recruit...

the studios now think it's a simple as hiring one guy and throwing money at him, because they have no idea what the fuck they're talking about. See Napoleon (2023) for example.

Yes, she also does a jab to the Prequels, which speaks to the generation of fans she's a part of... but overall she's giving Lucas props whilst also stating an ideological difference, that's it!

George is a proponent of the "autheur" theory, Leslye isn't.

However, guess what, in like half the talks George gave post-selling Star Wars? He's giving shoutouts to everyone who helped make the first film, even remembering their names.

So I'm not even sure he'd vehemently disagree with Leslye, in fact they'd prolly have a conversation about it and immediately bitch about how stupid studio executives are :D

But that's not as incendiary, is it? Again, the more I do the research, the more it feels like the reason most of these influencers are hating on her is purely sexist.

I mean, on IGN she's even acknowledging that she does plan on taking stock of fan reactions for Season 2.

It's not a guarantee that she'll incorporate the feedback, but at least that's more consideration than, say, JJ Abrams or Rian Johnson gave the fandom.

She's even bringing the moral ambiguity that the Gray Jedi-loving edge-lords love so much.

"No, she's a woke feminist! Anything she does is evil! Eww, girls!"

🙄

Needless to say... I'm gonna give it a shot.

I think it's gonna be a good show, I think it's gonna be a solid story.

I'm crossing my fingers that they won't as biased against the Jedi as it seems they'll be. Even if they are... if it's still an enjoyable experience, I'll gloss over it.

As @gffa states in this post:

Worst case? It's not a story from George. I can dismiss it from my headcanon without a moment's hesitation :D

[weebsinstash]

I feel like there's a heavily under-utilized possibility in some of these ideas I've been coming up with and it's like. We all want to say "Oh Miguel is so intimidating because of his size, Miguel is such a threat because of his physical strength"

"What if Miguel found out the two of you were canon and forced you to be together" girlies and what if Miguel found out the two of you were canon and he has a full on Miles Morales level INTERVENTION in a room with all your Spider Society friends who are like family to you. This man has the weapon of EXTREME PEER PRESSURE on his side, like, how many of us WOULDN'T at least completely break down crying at that?

Even if it's not to be with Miguel himself and it's just for the marriage canon event stuff, to have that many people corner you in a room like that over such a sensitive and intimate topic, like they're basically trying to emotionally badger you into having a relationship you're not ready for and may even be SCARED OF, and also, imagine being so offended at Miguel as someone who was supposed to be your boss and coworker, "Really? REALLY?? You're telling me you had to turn this into A BIG THING? You're having a fucking INTERVENTION right now?! ALL THESE PEOPLE had to be here for this?!"

You've even got friends and mentors and people you trusted there. Peter B as an older adult who you've been confiding personal shit and self doubts in, apparently having been telling Miguel everything behind your fucking back, he's there, all "I know you're scared but you've got to take the leap of faith, look at how happy I am with Mary Jane and Mayday :)" and its like yeah and you had to be traumatized by losing Gwen Stacy first! And maybe you're scared of being hurt and taken advantage of and just have trauma and stuff but, they essentially keep telling you to suck it up, you can't break canon, right?

Like imagine some time ago you opened up to Peter B about, "I think I maybe want a baby but I don't have a partner and I'm scared, I'd want to be perfect and give my baby everything and I know I'm not good enough" and you tell him some of your thoughts and feelings and he's actually like so touched and is all "caring that much is exactly what a good parent would say :)" and you two Have A Moment and he makes you cry and sees you genuinely so vulnerable and. Fucking. Later on when you're gradually over time being socially shunned and encouraged to spend more time at home to date and shit, and eventually this full on CONFRONTATION. Peter B or Miguel whips that shit back out again, "it's not just canon, it's also what you want, you're just scared. You've been WANTING a baby, havent you?" and you're just hurt, "Peter you fucking told?!" and you're paranoid about, what else has he loosened his lips for? Some things, or everything? (It's everything lmao, fucking motormouth "I care about you because you're an amazing person and I do this for your own good" sellout ass--)

I just feel like we all underestimate the sheer power and emotional blackmail over him being able to put you in a room with so many people who are all listening to him and agreeing with him. Like this doesn't even have to be yandere for all of them to be pressuring you because "oh don't break canon muh muh muh, we care about you and it'd dangerous and we don't want you to die" like this could be terrifying in any scenario

And of course just really imagine Miguel finding out the two of you are canon and when he finally tells you in a probably really clumsy mechanical way after failing to woo you, you completely reject him and maybe even start actively defying him by trying to see other people or at least just fucking other men, and he gives you an intervention for that for some of his little vaguely cult-like followers to pressure you to basically get non-con'd by your boss who you had thought of kind of like a friend until all this. Miguel finally snapping and absolutely losing his patience after you keep rejecting him and even sleeping with someone else (both you AND Hobie would fuck each other just to spite him even if there weren't any feelings there lmao) Miguel finally corners you, you can feel the rage boiling off of him but he's trying to contain it, for you, and he's got you physically cornered, towering over you, it's legitimately terrifying, and he's growling about how he wanted to try and do this the right way, he wanted the two of you to take time, to have a proper wedding, he wanted to be good to you, but if you're not only going to be risking canon (that's how he's truly justifying all his behavior, ain't it) but also fucking other men, then he has no choice but to tie you down now, doesn't he?

Let's see other men touch you and try to take you from him once Miguel's gotten you pregnant. He either follows through with his threat right then and there OR, you have to beg him to not do this, to give you one more chance, you knowing you couldn't fight him off and resorting to pleading, "please don't do this, if we're supposed to be together you'll ruin our entire future by doing this, I'd never be able to forgive you, please just give me another chance" and you're shaking and terrified and fuck it maybe even pissing yourself because he's absolutely huge and you're realizing the gravity of being cornered and alone with him, like as a Spider you're strong and tough and fighting bad guys with confidence, but with him, someone who's on your level, even higher, you're just a helpless little woman again that he can do as he pleases with and it terrifies you that you're suddenly confronted with the realities of what he's willing to do

So now you're breaking up with any flings you may have been having even if it breaks your heart and are trying to force yourself not to freak out around Miguel and be a good little fiancé, forcing yourself to try and not tremble when he's around you, try and force yourself to look on the bright side as he begins courting you and asking about what kind of wedding you'd want, forcing yourself through it all because, if you don't do it 'willingly', if you're not walking on your own two feet with a forced smile, you're now horribly aware that he'll drag you, HE'LL make you, and you don't want to see how far he's willing to go to have you

[biohazard-4ever]

I just remembered that Chris had his amnesia, he literally forget who he was, everything.

Including Claire, his sister. DO YOU IMAGINE THE GUILT HE FELT AFTER THAT. 😭

Im sobbing.

I'll never have any respect for Resident Evil 6!!! Their biggest mistake was giving up on the idea of Claire being in the game.

It does not get to me how Claire -, the same girl who was only 19 years old when she faces not one, but TWO Outbreaks (one of which she purposely jumps in into) All because she is looking for her BROTHER...

To then, give her a NOTHING treatment when CHRIS IS MISSING FOR 6 MONTHS in RE6!!!!!!!!!!!

FOR 6 MONTHS!

And Claire does NOTHING. NOTHING!!!

Capcom should have kept Claire as Leon's partner, imagine FINALLY having a reunion: Leon, Claire, Sherry AND now Claire and Chris. So, Chris and Leon.

Like, literally, RE6 could still have been the terrible catastrophy that it IS, but fuck ME if the story and emotional bound brought by CLAIRE being in the game wouldn't give it a solid score of 75/80.

I mean, Chris campaign is - gameplaywise, the absolute WORST out of all campaigns, but still many people forgive it and some even actually like it because of Piers and how it hit some people emotionally (not me personally, but I have seen it happen). Like, DAMN IT.

Not huge on Chris, but he certainly would be completely devasted. Because while he was drowning in self pity, Claire would've been worried sick about him.

She would run from Leon and Sherry's side straight to Chris and HUG him as hard as she possibly can...

"Chris came for her rescue once (CVX), now it is her turn to find and rescue him (RE6)"

And that would also be a beautiful moment not ONLY among the Redfield siblings, but also between them and Leon -, as the one guy responsible for helping the siblings' reunion. AGAIN.

It would've been a BEAUTIFUL way to solidify the relationship between those three

And Their amazing friend who is always here for them both

[asterdisaster06]

i love you, ain't that the worst thing you've ever heard?

ghost x reader [exes], slight soap x reader [mostly platonic], platonic 141 x reader

1. 2. 3.

summary > "Don't trust people like me. I will hurt you in the most beautiful and intoxicating ways so that you can never go back to your normal life without my ghost following you."

...

"If you always put yourself before others, one day you'll look behind and see that you're all alone."

...

Simon "Ghost" Riley had fucked up. Massively. He had pushed you away because he was scared of losing you to the life he lived. He didn't want to see you go down the same path and lose that beautiful intoxicating spark that you always carried in your eye. And now he didn't even recognize you. Not after you had done so much work to fulfill yourself, changing the person he once knew. You had successfully climbed the ranks of the 141 Taskforce and was now crowned the second lieutenant of the team. However, you can't dodge the piercing looks that Simon sends you every now and then. You can't pretend forever.

warnings > simon riley is alluded to be a bit of a dick in this chapter

a/n > reader cenetred. author has family issues so will be found family-ing this shit. author has no military knowledge so don’t crucify me. also have no idea how long it takes to officially become a Lieutenant but we’re going with around 5 years - shortened from 7+ because us readers are smart and can go to college. it’s very much just poetic feels, but I promise the angst with Simon directly comes eventually. He’s kind of a dick tbh but that’s cause he’s emotionally repressed. i’m romanticising this because i’ve lived through similar and wish this was how it ended lmao

ao3

Simon Riley was the bane of your existence. His very being pissed you off to no end, and it wasn’t unwarranted. That anger had once been crippling sorrow and grief over what you had lost. The anger had begun as a small seed, planted in the harsh words he growled at you through gritted teeth that night. The same words that you hissed back in his face. But eventually you had managed to move on from the love of your life. Managed to move on after weeks spent with tear stained pillows and the stuffed animal he had won you once hugged to your chest. You would’ve shoved that thing in the back of your closet, but you figured you shouldn’t take your anger out on the poor thing. 

Thinking of him still makes you wince like hitting your shin against a table leg, but less so. It’s faded to a simple bruise on your heart that still aches from time to time. A phantom pain for the ghost that still haunts you. Like smoke in the wind. You still fear whispering his name at night as if his spirit will come back to haunt you. You still have the keys to his apartment in your bedside drawer. You still remember where he keeps his spoons. Sometimes you wonder how many cups of tea you’ve wasted from pouring them down the drain after realising you’re still stuck in the habit of making two. 

However, you know it’s for the best that you’ve parted ways. It reminds you a little of a moment in your life with him, ironically. There was this one time that you had managed to drag Simon to the beach as a small celebration for him and were out swimming as the sun had set. He only stuck his toes into the water as you swam out until you couldn’t reach the bottom. He had told you he wouldn’t save you, and you shouted back in response that you didn’t need saving. You almost want to thank him now for saying that he’d let you drown. Thank him for teaching you that you never needed saving. Not from him anyways.

It was this exact night that had led to the complete and utter dismantling of your relationship with one Simon Riley. Recalling it stings like sand in the wind against your bare legs. The kind of pelting pain that leaves no visible marks but hurts nonetheless. It steals the breath from your lungs and puts a stone in your heart. 

You were so happy, so very happy. And you thought that Simon would be too. Especially for you. You broke the news to him as you were laying there on the beach that you wanted to join the military. You wanted to continue that it was because you had looked up to him so very much and wanted to do good just like he did. Even if he didn’t exactly believe he was. Before you could do so though, he had blown up on you. Completely. It was a complete shift from the Simon you thought you had known. You shudder to recall exactly what he had said, but it escalated enough for one of you to call it off. 

It had gone silent after those words were uttered. 

Complete silence.

You had refused to let the tears fall until you had grabbed your shit and booked a flight back to your home town. The airport bathroom had offered a greater sympathy than he had ever given you. He never even called you. You think that’s what hurts the most. That you didn’t mean enough to him to even try and work this out. You expected better from him. You truly did. 

“I can’t fucking believe how bloody stupid you would have to be to do that.”

Nonetheless, you picked yourself up and signed up for the military with your family and friends supporting your every move. Your every breath. You learned to defend yourself, learned to love yourself. You had gotten around here and there, but nobody ever truly measured up to Simon. Sometimes you wonder what would’ve happened if you two had met when you were already in the military, but you always shut down those what if thoughts quite quickly. No use dwelling on something that could never be.

“This is a big fucking mistake, love.”

You rose the ranks quickly, using your spite to your advantage. Every man that reminded you of Simon always made you fight even harder. You had always told a half truth when someone asked why you wanted to join. Not the story of pain and bitterness, but the one of hope and admiration of an old friend. It made you want to throw up after the third time of giving that response, so eventually you simply changed the subject when someone asked. You didn’t even spill your past when you were blackout drunk; it being too painful even then. You drowned your sorrows in liquor and nicotine, going out with your top tier squad every Friday. Sometimes when it came to a close and you were left with the quiet of your own deafening thoughts you went outside to smoke a pack of Simon’s favourite cigarettes. A weakness that you hated yourself for. 

"You are no saint, and you are no saviour either. You're just lying to yourself."

Those words ring out in your mind every time you fail to save someone. A fellow soldier or a civilian, it doesn’t matter. Self doubt creeps up on you, smothering you in its grasp. Your hands remain stained with their blood, no matter how much you scrub your skin raw in the shower. You hear their screams ring out in your brain at night, piercing the thin veil of fitful sleep that you’ve resigned yourself to after you had lost the warmth of your other half that used to hold you tight at night. Your eyes had lost their brightness, though you can’t say it’s exactly correlated to the loss of the victims. You couldn’t prove Simon right in that aspect. Not after you’ve come this far. 

"Anything would be better than this!"

You wanted to believe that so badly, but your heart longed for this career almost as much as it did him. You took pride in those you had saved; albeit still haunted by those you could not. The abilities you had earned your right to were presented proudly through tactical patches displayed on your uniform - chest candy as he would’ve called it. But if he couldn’t support you through this, you didn’t know how to trust him for future endeavours. The lack of apologies simply cemented your decision and mindset. 

"Why would somebody do this on purpose?"

It’s a question whose full answer still eludes you to this day. All you know is that you felt homesick for this life before even experiencing it. It’s the ache in your bones and has been carved into your ribs so you may feel the torment and euphoria all at once when your heart slams against the cage that keeps it safe. Contained. 

It’s these thoughts that occupy your mind on the plane trip to the infamous compound that houses the 141 Taskforce. Anxiety pierces your nerves, sending what little food you had that morning tumbling around your stomach. Forgetting your meds this morning was likely the worst thing that you could have possibly done. Except for completely ghosting this experience. How odd it is to be haunted by someone still alive. Someone who has no idea if you’re still breathing, let alone travelling to your very location at that moment. 

There was no logical reason for you to turn this collaboration down; in fact, in any other circumstances you would be proud of rising so far that you were sent to this facility. Except for the fact that it was this facility. The very one that your ex who has tormented you through night a day for years. You hadn’t spoken a word of his name to anyone after the first month following the breakup. You wanted a life where your friends didn’t even know his name, let alone his significance. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to be a part of your life anymore. 

You repeat this mantra to yourself as you realise you’re finally landing. 

Shit.

That syllable is the only thing bouncing around your head as you’re greeted by John Price. The John Price. Alone, you notice. You had heard bits and pieces of Ghost’s team, but mostly of either Soap’s shenanigans or Price’s rulings over him. You swallow harshly and shake the hand of the powerful Captain. The very same one that had no idea that one of his subordinate’s had been your previous lover. And you planned to keep it that way at all costs. 

“Welcome to the base Lieutenant, I’ve heard great things about you and your stealth skills on the battlefield,” Price spoke, shaking your hand firmly. 

Lieutenant. You had always loved the sound of that word in front of Simon’s name, and had similarly always wondered how it would sound in front of yours. It brought a sense of satisfaction rushing through your veins, and yet at the same time it brought you to your knees from nausea. It reminded you too much of him.

“There was the callsign ‘Angel’ in the details Laswell sent over. Would you say that still suits you?” Price says, almost amused. 

Angel. You had never intended for it to be ever spoken to you again considering its connotations with a nickname Simon had always called you. His little angel. He claimed that you were sent down from the heavens to save the sinners; although, you had never considered him one until the breakup. 

How you had gained this callsign is a story that makes you want to shake like a wet dog. Shake the memory off until it vanishes from your grasp. When you were simply doing your job and slowly climbing the ranks through your initial trade training, you had this sergeant that had taken a liking to you. Much to your chagrin. He had started every conversation with the classic pickup line about you falling from heaven. It was pure torment that you had to endure for almost a full year; a year in which the nickname stuck. Nobody was willing to do anything about it, and you weren’t willing to cause a fuss by tattling on your - at the time - superior. It ended up following you out of that academy into your career. 

Although, you had quickly earned the added benefit of having ‘Angel of Death’ be your full callsign after you had proven your covert operation skills - effectively wiping out an entire compound by yourself with none the wiser. Safe to say that mission was a success. The name now had something to do with your actual skills instead of your physical appearance and led you to cringe at the honorific less and less. 

“I don’t think I’d be able to answer to anything else, Sir,” You answer, wincing at the mention of your callsign nonetheless.

He sends you a questioning look at your small recoil, but brushes it off in favour of moving onto a general tour of the area. It was a sizable facility with many accommodations that made you almost smile with anticipation of taking advantage of all of them. I mean, you even got your own personal shower with your room. Who is going to complain about that?

“So, that’s basically it,” Price finishes up the tour in his office. “I know you already signed off with Laswell on your contract, but just for the record, may I have you sign a few documents here in this folder? Feel free to take your time going through them.”

You overlooked the folder, noticing what little details you had shared throughout your career being asked to be confirmed by your penmanship. It makes you give a shallow smile at the memories you’ve contracted through your experiences. Some less than savoury, but many you wouldn’t give up for the world. You were looking forward to catching up with your friends back at your old base once you were settled in, but until then you scratched pen against paper. 

You had finally completed signing on all the lines, getting a little tired at being told ‘here, here, and here’ over and over again. Your eyes burned with exhaustion, not quite realising how much your anxiety had taken out of you. Your hands had a small leftover tremor plaguing them as you handed the pen back to Price, but you felt better. Significantly better. 

“I can tell you’re tired, so I’ll lead you to your quarters and let you rest there for tonight,” Price says, sending you a small quirk of his lips.

“Thank you, Captain,” You reply, sending a tired yet appreciative look in his direction. 

“Oh, please, call me Price. If you know Kate as well as she says you do, you’ve earned that at the least,” He laughs. 

You flush red, letting out a bashful grin at that. It was true that you had run into Kate a few times before realising what a big part she played in your field of work. Most of the time at the coffee shop where you held a part-time job while attending the military academy. However, the time you had sat across from her and her wife after getting stood up really sealed the deal. You being introduced as the ‘person that actually gets our coffee right’ which gave you all a good laugh. They had comforted you once you opened up about why you were at a fancy dinner alone, they welcomed you into their open arms, and that was that. The topic ended up on what you were studying for, and it all came out into the open. The silent conversation those two had with their eyes before opening up had almost made you shit yourself before Kate explained. 

You had tried to stay slightly distant after figuring out exactly what she did for a living, but she had shut that down real quick - saying that if anyone had dared to call you a nepo-baby that they wouldn’t live to tell the tale. You really hoped she was exaggerating. 

Back in the present, you were letting out a laugh at Price’s words before there was a knock at the door. Your heart dropped to your stomach, making your breath stumble before completely halting. In your heart, you knew who it was before Price even told him to let himself in. The gruff voice saying he didn’t expect Price to have company so late made you feel like a deer in headlights, unable to move as their untimely demise stares them right in the face. 

Except this time around, this deer had broken through the freeze reaction long ago. You had learned and adapted, unwilling to relive being frozen as Simon yelled in your face yet again. You couldn’t face the shame quite yet, not unprompted at least.  

You quickly turned away from your initial reaction of turning to the door. You mouth goodbye to Price and nod in respect; hoping that he would forgive you for abandoning his office without any notice. You kept your eyes to the floor, feeling his eyes staring holes through you, burning your skin like a bullet wound. 

You had changed a lot throughout the years, more so in preparation for being moved here. You weren’t going to turn down this once in a lifetime opportunity just because of a silly disagreement over half a decade ago. You remember staring at a face you barely recognize today while gripping the porcelain off white sink in your shared bathroom. Past you taking actions to change your hair into something that ended up being the new normal. You had taken a page out of Ghost’s book and invested in DIY-ing a personalised mask that resembled a bird with tinted glass shielding your eyes from anyone that could recognize you simply off that. You actually had quite a few - each one for a different occasion. 

Nonetheless, the mask you currently wore, its only purpose that you cared about right now was hiding your identity. Simon didn’t immediately react, so you took that as a good sign. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was simply concealing his emotions, but you had a feeling that wasn’t the case. You peruse the halls, not entirely sure how to get to your room. You had a vague idea, but backtracking made it a little more difficult. Especially since you were more concerned with conversing with Price than memorising the exact layout. 

You take a turn around a corner, immediately bumping into someone with a familiar face, your eyes betraying your displeasure as you wordlessly stared into the Scots eyes.

[lilybecca1]

I open TikTok and of course this is the first thing that came up

And it's true. I think we all tend to look past how broken Bakugou Katsuki actually is, and how he's been broken down piece by piece ever since the beginning of the manga. So they say he hasn't gotten any karma for what he said to Izuku? He was literally one of the people who suffered the most in the entire story.

His entire world was flipped upside down, he went through feelings of betrayal when he thought Izuku lied to him his whole life, his own insecurities have been brought forth almost every moment, his ego was beaten down episode by episode, which yeah, we can say he deserved that, but that doesn't mean it wasn't any less painful and that he didn't suffer through all that humiliation and constantly being reminded that he isn't unbeatable, that he's weak.

And he also had his fair share of panic attacks, more than most of the others. He was humiliated and his weakness was shown for the whole world to see when he got kidnapped, and had to experience everyone believing that he could turn into a villain when his whole life was basically about how much he wanted to be a hero. And if we look back at how many times we've seen him cry, which is also more than most of the others, then it's a lot, especially for a person who is supposed to be someone who doesn't cry, who always remains strong. Yet he was the one that always broke down, that had to deal with the most inner turmoil in the span of that one year, which must have been a hell of a hard time of suffering for him after years and years of suppressing those emotions.

In the beginning of the manga, he started off as someone egoistic with a superior complex who would never ever admit that he was wrong, and by the end of it we got someone who apologized out of his own will. For someone like the person that he was, to even consider, yet alone want to apologize, on his own will, without anyone pushing him to do so, is a big fucking thing.

We forget the fact that these children have literally went through hell, emotionally, physically, mentally. They're just CHILDREN. Hell, Bakugo literally died, if that year wasn't traumatic enough for him. He had to experience what it feels like to lose someone important, first with All Might (the fact that he caused it adds even more to it), then losing Deku, then losing his OWN LIFE. And yes, he did lose Deku, because when he was in the hospital, the others literally told him that there's no way of knowing if Deku would even wake up or not. Do you guys have any idea how it would feel to hear THAT about someone you care about? That they might not even wake up? When you haven't even apologized about everything that you have done to him, haven't come clean about your past to him?

Yeah no, shit, I know it must have terrified Bakugo like hell. Then he ended up losing Deku again when Deku left UA to begin his Vigilante Arc. He left without saying goodbye after Bakugo thought he might lose him, now tell me that isn't painful enough as it is.

This guy went through fucking hell, people should stop throwing so much shit on him. He's been broken to the point that he basically became an entire different person than who he was. And I don't care that he told Izuku to jump, because he is not that person anymore, and not just because he apologized. No, that person has been beaten down rough, left broken, alone, confused and in pain, not understanding his own feelings. The person that he used to be was beaten down and left so broken, that he couldn't be built back into the same person anymore. He went through trauma after trauma, went through all kind of emotional turmoil, pain, anguish, shock, humiliation, guilt, remorse, and worst of all, he died, losing his life at just 16 years old.

He came back to life NOT the same person that he was. Not the same heart, not the same feelings. Whether you understand it or not, that guy is not the Bakugou Katsuki that he used to be, and he never will be. All that anger, that shell around his heart has been broken into millions of pieces, leaving only this pure and sensitive soul who has gone through too much pain to comprehend.

Trauma changes you, it makes you become a completely new person. Bakugou Katsuki died in the war, and it's Bakugou Kacchan who came back to life and survived to live on.

[lemon-natalia]

Nona the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 32

ngl i thought Crux was a total goner at the beginning of last chapter, but he’s still kicking somehow. he's probably fuelled by pure spite at this point

‘the Reverend Daughter has no cavalier living’ just imagine having to walk around with the knowledge that you are literally dead. like not just that you came back to life or anything, but that your body and you are literally still dead. that's just insane. also what the fuck must Aiglamene be thinking right now, given she has no idea about how Gideon ended up like this

FUCKING IANTHE IS BACK. i fully thought she had finished her ominous appearances in this book, how the hell did she get here so quickly 

i love that she’s apparently adopted Augustine’s smoking habit. it really adds to her James-Bond-Villain flair for the dramatic, which is coming out in full force here 

speaking of the fact that what’s happened to Pyrrha - namely, surviving - isn’t normal, and none of the other Lyctors’ cavaliers nor Naberius survived in a similar way. it might be unlikely given that G1deon is dead and can’t exactly say anything about what went differently during his ascension, but i hope we eventually get more information about how exactly that happened at some point 

yeah the fuck is up with Ianthe, actually. there are so many descriptions of Ianthe looking horrifically pale, and the specific mention here that she looks almost dead and pretty close to Kiriona, who is actually dead, it makes me wonder if there’s something genuinely weird going on with her?

‘Are you ever too late to come into my life and say that’ ooof the relationship between Pyrrha and Gideon is just so painful on both sides

oh for fuck’s sake Kiriona, i can’t believe she’s friends with Ianthe of all people. like they even have a secret handshake, i would kill to know how that relationship developed. these two actually getting along might be the creepiest moment so far actually 

okay, so there’s some interesting insight into Kiriona’s motivations here - if we take her at her word here, she’s got a new primary goal of wanting to be John’s cavalier. again i’m really curious as to how Kiriona and John’s relationship developed to the point that this is something she seems to genuinely want. although it could also be less that its something she really wants and more that she literally has nothing else going for her right now

and more importantly for the overall plot of the series, John is the one who told her to open the tomb and kill Alecto, two things that seem pretty opposed to his motivations earlier in the series. he’s told Kiriona that only she can do it, but given Alecto’s not so much a person as she is a Resurrection Beast in a human body, could anyone even kill her? so if John has the ulterior motive of unlocking the tomb, that makes me very concerned as to the reason why 

and once again like the end of HtN, if Ianthe is openly horrified by something it seems pretty damn dangerous. she seems to know what will happen if Alecto is released and be genuinely terrified of it, which given the look at how powerful John can get when working with Alecto (see: literally killing the entire solar system), I can see why she seems so afraid. plus i might be reading too much into this, but Ianthe’s (most obvious) major goal, becoming a Lyctor, was achieved all the way back in GtN - from the fact that she wants to keep John ‘nothing’, she seems to be pretty desperate to hold onto that status as his only Lyctor 

‘Nona unravelled’ oh no i am not even close to being emotionally prepared for this, even though i knew it was coming 

John really went all out on the religious imagery with the whole tomb thing, like he even sealed it with a rock for pete’s sake 

Palamedes complimenting (presumably) young!Harrow’s efforts at disabling the traps leading to the tomb is everything to me 

also absolutely killing me this chapter are the little hints at Gideon’s continued devotion to Harrow after everything; Gideon begging Harrow, even though she doesn’t know where she is, to ‘keep it together’, the fact that she is so willing to give up all of her blood and die for Harrow a second time. i am so obsessed with these two 

wow I cannot believe that Crux of all people is coming in clutch at the climax of this book

oh wtf Gideon DID end up killing Crux, fucking hell!! rip Crux you died as you lived: being a complete hater. he really made sure his last words were to emotionally destroy Gideon as much as possible huh 

these whole couple of pages are like a microcosm of all of Gideon’s biggest emotional hang ups really. her projecting pretty hard onto Crux about how he ‘could have lived’ for Harrow but can only die for her, her whole moment of boasting to someone who treated her awfully her whole life about how she actually is someone important. and then ending with killing Crux, which of course doesn’t 'feel good' - killing him doesn’t give her any of the parental love that she missed as a child, or remove the emotional abuse she suffered from him, or actually solve any of her emotional issues 

the running narrative in the background about Alecto remembering John leading her to the tomb is pretty disturbing i won’t lie. it's just so creepy to read about him reassuring Alecto as he leads her to essentially what is a jail cell

also i am fully aware that there’s a subplot about Anastasia and Alecto’s relationship in this last chapter, its just that there’s been so much else going on that i honestly just have not been paying attention to it at all

‘Well, happy birthday to me’ oh poor Nona, her wishing herself a happy birthday before she dies just … hurts so bad. she started out genuinely happy and optimistic, and i knew full well it wasn’t going to last, but it still hurts

[one-and-a-half-yikes]

*inhale* Cuphead and Colly headcanons please😈😈😈

(Also perchance your opinion of coffeekitty (cup x Felix) mayhaps I live laugh love coffeekitty)

THE GODS HAVE GIVEN ME AN ASK!!!!

Okay okay starting with Colly hcs (because I don't think I have that many Cuphead ones)

These two would be such a chill fucking couple, but definitely capable of chaos every once in a while (it's Holly's fault lol). I like to think, in a relationship that Holly does get Cup into reading after at least getting him to try exploring some genres. Anything crime related is usually his go to though he did finally start branching out into other stuff. Ideally on a good day he's reading something from the adventure genre. After a decade spent involved in actual crime reading about stories, even if they're fictional, involving murders, killers, etc wears on him mentally and emotionally so he doesn't really read that anymore.

Snuggle time for these two is a must but it's usually initiated by Cuphead because he's touch-starved. Not that Holly's complaining, unless he's literally sweating in which case fuck that. And yes, this does mean that Holly is the big spoon in their relationship. Always. It's comforting for Cup, and sometimes when his mental health decides it's wants to plummet for no reason he just kinda flops near wherever she is. Sometimes "snuggling" for these two literally just means knowing the other is in the same room as them. Alive. Breathing. Especially for Cuphead who would still get the occasional nightmare of the Devil coming for him and taking everything he has away, including Holly. So it's nice to just sit on the floor and lean his head against the back of her chair if he knows she's working on something at her desk.

Because of everything involving Hat and his experiments done on him Cup's fear and unease around doctors does in fact extend to psychiatrists as well. So seeing a therapists is still incredibly hard for him. Enough that they had to settle for 40 minute sessions cause that's the amount of time Cup was willing to spend in a shrink's office. The first time he agreed to an hour session he got so antsy he was basically pacing the room like a caged animal. They went back to 40 minute sessions after that lol. Also, I do think Cup has other nervous ticks if he doesn't have a cigarette on hand. Which is probably why it took so long to get him to stop smoking. Because when he wasn't he was irritable and a nervous wreck. Best solution Holly could find was incense, but then when they got Dagger (wounded stray kitten Cup found and took in as a pet) she went back to regular scented candles. Somehow, that seemed to quell his anxieties.

Also they got an apartment instead of a house. Only cause Cup didn't like the idea of being in one and it wasn't like they were planning on having kids anytime soon like the others so it was more of "yeah sure why the fuck not".

I will say it here and now that these two have gone on sooooo many vacations. Listen that money that Cup has saved up for a rainy day. Null and void his Princess wants to go to fucking Japan so that's where they're going now. Whatever his queen wants ✨️

Too chill for fancy outings, I think they'd just hangout at cafés, diners, or try finding new street food to eat. Also concerts?? Soon as those become a thing fucking yes obviously (it was a one time thing and they both hated lmaooo). Fancy restaurants are reserved for anniversaries or special occasions when Cup wants Holly to fucking REST FOR ONCE. Because oh yeah she's not her mom entirely but she is a workaholic like her so yeah it's Cup's designated duty to drag her from her desk to bed. And hide the coffee on the highest shelf where she can't reach (this has never stopped her btw).

Also! Mentioning spooning again? Surely not me. Surely not I. As it stands, when they are going to bed, Holly gets to be the little spoon which works just fine for Cup cause it's the only way he can keep her contained (Holly sleeps like a fucking starfish okay and her hair being as long as it is means it's splayed out EVERYWHERE by the time morning rolls around)

Last thing I'll mention and it's a Cuphead hc is that I don't see Cup becoming a detective once he's able to be free from the Devil. Tbh I don't know WHY that's such a popular idea in the fandom because it seems completely antithetical to his character to me. You spent a decade involved in crime and committing the worst crimes a person could committ, just so you can jump right back into that but this time solving them? And we're supposed to assume that Cuphead has no problems with that? As an AU it's fine but canon-wise if you ask me I think he would work perfectly as a volunteer with animals. Either at a sanctuary, or at least at a shelter. I see him working at a shelter personally because that fits him. It's calming, he gets to spend time around cute animals, AND he gets to chew out irresponsible owners for not taking better care of their pets. It's a win-win!!!

(Okay I KNOW I just said I was done but rq I do think Cup knows a lot about animals as much as he does about astrology. But he doesn't get to usually gush about that so he's hiding his power level from everyone lmao)

Okay that out of the way this...coffeekitty you speak of...

First of all, that name is cute as hell and second. Idk, Cuphead and Felix have hardly had any real moment to TALK and stars knows they need to because I don't really think Felix gets the Cupbros still and there's still a lot of resentment there regarding Wilson, which is understandable but still-

It's interesting I guess but genuinely only see these two having a platonic relationship. That and also I already have a Cuphead in a gay ship (It's Cupex Cuphead x Alex [the bear not the cat] lmao)

[astaldis]

Why is House of the Dragon allegedly so much better than The Witcher?

Just watched House of the Dragon S2 and I must say - I found it pretty boring in many parts?

Sorry, but the whole thing mostly and disappointingly feels like a very long and repetitive prologue to what might come in S3. And they do many things that are loudly criticised in The Witcher, some even a lot worse, but with HotD people seem to not mind? Honestly, this really puzzles me. Yes, the costumes and make-up might be better, but:

It's all over the place on the whole continent of Westeros and even outside of Westeros with people traveling from place to place in no time at all. OK, on dragon back, you can do that, but they also do it on foot and by boat. I remember some of the geography of the continent because I was very much into Game of Thrones some years back when it aired and also read all the Song of Ice and Fire books that were available (not the ones HotD is based on though), but the constant jumps from one place to the next are really confusing imo and you'd need to have a map by your side all the time to remember where is what. When the Witcher does that, it is criticised heavily.

Same with people, there are so many main and minor characters, some even with similar or the same names, how the fuck are you supposed to remember who's who and who is related to who and how, who belongs to which house, and who's allied to who and who's feuding who without looking it up again all the time somewhere on the internet? With all the incest and extramarital activities resulting in a host of illegitimate progeny, I found this extremely confusing, a lot more so than in The Witcher.

And does anybody have a shimmer of an idea of how much time has passed since the old king's death? Must be at least months but you hardly ever get any hints about it. And this poor girl, how long is she wandering around the desolate highlands alone trying to find the wild dragon? Must have been weeks judging by the other things that happened in the meantime ...

Maybe it's just me, but I did not find any of the characters really compelling. Not that they are not well acted, the acting is good enough, but emotionally they did not really leave any impression on me. Maybe the only character I find a bit interesting is Queen Helaena and this very young Lord Tully who shows unexpected spine and stands up to Daemon in front of the Riverlords. There are so many seemingly random new side characters popping up all over the place, too, miraculously gaining importance that one is supposed to keep track of, but also none of them that was in any way inspiring it me. And the poor cute Bracken knight only drew his sword and was already dead in the mud on a battlefield with hundreds of men hardly a second later ...

Rhaenyra suddenly and out of the blue kisses this lowborn woman (was her name even mentioned? I cannot for the life of me remember it). I don't have anything against women kissing, not at all, but why? There is no mention of anything going on between those two at all afterwards. Are they in a secret relationship now or not? I haven't read the book and don't know if it's in there, but how is that kiss, as it seems to have no relevance to the plot at all, not 'woke' catering to the LGBTQ community? But everything the Witcher does is?

Then there are the dragons you have to keep track of in addition to the many people and places. How many dragons are there? And who rides which one? And why the heck would a dragon in its right mind choose this dubious Ulf character who accidentally stumbles into its cave as a rider???

And the plot? Honestly, was there, beside the one fight between the three dragons, anything that was really exciting? I remember nothing, no battles, no good sword fights, nothing but TALK. At lest 90% of the plot is repetitive talking about politics and plotting and scheming. I have nothing against a nice political intrigue and of course that's what happens at courts and it can be interesting too. It was in Game of Thrones where you had really interesting characters, too. But here I found it mostly boring and uninspired. And The Witcher is criticised for having too much politics and too many side characters although it has a LOT less so than this season of HotD.

They also seem to have conveniently forgotten that in GoT they established that Targaryans would not burn from fire. In the books this happens only once because some kind of blood magic was performed, but in the show it happened several times, so it seemed to be the rule, not the exception. HotD thus kind of refutes their own made-up lore, which I found confusing and had to look it up online. (They could easily have made Aegon suffer from bad injuries due to the fall instead.)

The music was rather uninspiring, too, imo, except for the intro which is the well-known one taken from GoT and the music at the end of E8 which was partly based on the Rains of Castamere, otherwise there was not a single piece of the soundtack that would make me want to buy and listen to it. The Witcher has quite a few that I listen to again and again (including, of course, Jaskier's songs, but many more).

What I also like a lot better about The Witcher: It does not take itself that seriously and there is quite a bit of humour in it. In HofD S2, the imo funniest piece of dialogue was: "I want you to fuck my wives." - "How many wives do you have?" (that was between this pirate commander, don't remember his/her? name, and Lord Tyland, was that his name?) . And maybe the truest sentence in the show by this random braggart in the tavern who miraculously turns into a dragon rider Ulf: "A sense of humour would do you all good."

All in all, the only thing that I have found to be really good and outstanding about HotD S2 are the dragons. Without them, it would be less than mediocre. I don't think I would want to rewatch it and feel no desire to look up any of the characters and their relationships etc to find out more about them. I cannot say in how far it is or isn't faithful to the source material as I have not read the book(s?) HotD is based on, but even if it's more faithful to the source material, this has failed to make it a great watch like GoT (minus the ending, that was worse than the poorest fanfic could have thought it up). With the dragons it is alright to watch once, hoping for a more exciting S3, but there is absolutely no way it deserves higher critic/audience scores/ratings than The Witcher S3, the contrary.

Update: To clarify, I don't really mind many things that I mentioned about HotD, I can totally live with an unclear timeline and many characters, even if it's not easy to remember every name, relationship etc. If I really like a show or character, I simply look it up, no problem. But these are all things I have seen people criticise The Witcher for on social media, and then they say HotD is so much better. That's what really puzzles me. What I definitely liked about HotD is the diverse cast and that there are many female characters with a lot of screen time and importance. It's not a bad show, only I like The Witcher much better despite its flaws. This is not meant as an anti HotD post but a pro Witcher post.