#I haven't done one of these in a while but I had the thoughts so I had lay them out.

[red-doll-face]

Getting caught in the rain with Arthur leads to him finding creative ways to warm you up.

(high honor) arthur morgan x fem. reader

I love this trope! prob been done before but I cant resist... 😔Can you believe I wanted this to be a short head canon post?? LMAO it ended up way longer than that. That's why it has a more casual thing going on despite being super long 🥲Happy thanksgiving! This is for the girlies who are stuck with family and need something absolutely filthy to read !!! 💕💕💕💕💕

Warnings: NSFW content, vaginal sex, while honor isn't too relevant, arthur is very sweet and hes kind of a weenie here, in a good way! arthur does not have bad intentions here, he's genuinely a sweet little man...

-

Thinking of begging Arthur to take you away from camp for a while. Maybe you haven't had a bath in a bit or you're sick of hearing Swanson drunkenly parade around camp. But you've decided to ask Arthur, he's always so sweet to you and you know he won't say no. And Arthur and his stupid bleeding heart (the one that bleeds so much more for you) grumbles and pretends he's thinking about it but really he'd probably say yes to anything that came from your lips. He has no regrets when he sees the smile you give him. You're hoisted up onto the back of his horse, holding onto his waist so you don't fall. Arthur is desperately trying to play it cool. 

Then the rain starts coming down, you're soaked through very quickly and Arthur, such a gentleman, sheds his coat to give it to you, except now he is soaked through as well. The both of you are freezing and he tells you that you have to stop until the weather clears. He’s cussing up a storm worse than the one you're in. You nod, just wanting to be warm, wracked by shivers. He comes up on an abandoned shack and guides you inside, shutting the rain out. You're standing in the center of the room, looking like a wet cat after a miserable bath, Arthur is kind enough to take his coat off of you, giving you a ratty old, moth bitten blanket but it doesn't do much of anything for the cold. Trying to get a fire going proves fruitful but it's a small one and the wind blowing in from the flue almost puts it out several times.

Arthur feels so helpless, sitting there watching your teeth start to chatter as you sit in front of the pathetic little fire. He's trying to apologize (Ah, I’m sorry, I didn't know it was gonna come down like that,) but you only tell him it's not his fault. He has to help, all he wants to do is help. Things aren't getting any better and he doesn't want you to come down with something on account of him being an idiot. And then he gets an idea. He’s red all over flushed at the thought but he knows taking your soaking clothes off would help. And he's standing there, awkwardly, one hand rubbing the back of his neck while he tries to hide under his hat. He’s gently clearing his throat, trying to get your attention. 

“Maybe we could try… I…could…” he's nervously stumbling through his words and he's looking at you, sitting on the floor, desperately trying to warm your hands by the fire. You look up to him but he can hardly speak, so enraptured by the look of utter trust, reliance on him. His mouth hangs open but he swallows the lump of spit in his mouth. He tries to shake off these boyish jitters he gets around you. “Uhhh- I mean, it would be better if we weren't sittin’ round in these clothes, I guess, can’t be doin’ you any good...”  

“Really, you think so…?” Your voice is quiet and meek, struggling to say anything past the clicking of your teeth and the shivers. “Well then, turn around, Arthur,” at your obvious attempt to be modest, he nods stiffly and turns towards the wall, listening to you take your dress and your underskirts off, landing in a wet plop on the floor. You whine, peeling yourself out of your undergarments before a quiet ok leaves your lips. He turns and you're desperately covering yourself with that dusty blanket, legs bare, fabric hardly long enough to cover the soft mound between your legs, the fat of your inner thighs squished together. Arthur has a hard time keeping his gaze from locking onto any of the inviting bits of skin you show him. You're embarrassed, biting your lip, squeezing your arms around yourself. 

“Aren't you gonna- Arthur, you're gonna do it too, right?” Arthur has a hesitant nod and a course even though he just now thought he should probably follow along to help make you more comfortable. He’s removing his hat first, nothing to hide under now and he notices that you watch him take his gun belt off, unfastening his suspenders from his pants. You finally look away, his boots and his pants are peeled off and his shirt is unbuttoned. He’s breathing heavily now, naked as the day he was born. But you won't stop shivering. Your hair is still wet. And the fire is struggling to warm you from the bitter cold that clings to the dusty air. There isn't much left to burn for the fire. 

“You want me to hold you?” It's out of his mouth before he can stop it, trying to smack away these thoughts about the glimpses he’s getting of your naked figure underneath the blanket. He swears it's only out of necessity, that you're just not warming up fast enough. “Don’t want you gettin’ sick on me,” He really does only want you comfortable. Unrealistically hoping this won't change what you most likely consider a friendship. You nod, vigorously. 

“I think it would be ok, maybe if you just didn’t- didn’t look. Just- don’t look,” and you're desperate, curling up in his lap in front of the wavering fire. You're unable to look at him, but you still rub into him, enjoying how his body warms up a lot faster than yours. And both of you make some excuse that things would be better without that old blanket between you two. And suddenly you're pressed into him, his arms tight around you while he looks at the ceiling to avoid staring at things he shouldn't. Arthur struggles hard to keep from rubbing upwards into you, trying to keep you from sitting directly between his legs, afraid the way his body reacts to the feel of your body will scare you, scandalize you. But you only seem to want to be there more, getting comfortable with him. His chest hair tickles you, the hair creeps all the way down his torso. You giggle softly as it tickles you. His heart beats fast at the feel of you, so soft compared to the roughness of him.

As if all of the blood hasn't already rushed down to the very center of him, you just have to sit squarely on his lap. He tries to readjust you but it's too late and you've felt him, hard as a rock, pushing at you. He's so embarrassed, stumbling over an apology, “Shit-I-I’m sorry, I-” in that surly voice, all rough and low. you gasp and look over your shoulder. You see how he can hardly stand to look at you with his pretty blue gem-toned eyes. Instead he shows you his profile as he turns away. 

“It's ok”, Arthur has no idea how he's supposed to look at you after this, he can't see himself looking you in the eyes for a long while after you've felt his cock nudging the swell of your ass, unable to deny his own reaction to you. Hopefully he’ll be able to dismiss it as a fluke and not a devastating hope that you’d be interested in him that he's been crushing down for months now. He's trying to will away the burgeoning desire just under his skin, tamping down fires that rage on. And you look up at him again with that look of trust in your eyes, too ashamed to continue touching you, wholeheartedly convinced you don't like him. 

But then you're only closer than you were, looking up at him, so close, he's breathing in your scent, sweet and like fresh summer rain. His eyes search yours for any inclination and all you have to do is put your hand on his prickly cheek for him to lean and kiss you, hands on his broad chest, rushing over the warmth you can feel. How he ends up with you on his lap, tits pressed up against his hairy chest, his big hands squeezing at your hips, he's not too sure. Your arms are over his shoulders, playing with his light brown hair sweetly, rubbing the sore muscles in his back. And the glide of his tongue over yours is heaven, he swears. You whine into his kisses, the heat between the both of you licks over your skin, noses clumsily bumping into each other. 

Then he’s on top of you, tucking you over the blanket. “You gotta tell me you want this, want me,” and all you can do is say “Yes, please, Arthur, please,” features showing your ecstasy, anticipating his hands on you.

His hands are rough; petting down your sides. Any worries he had about being too old, too ugly and too brutish for you are forgotten when you kiss him, spread your legs for him to fit between them. When you push your breasts in his hands when he goes to touch them. Your nipples are hard from the cold but his hands start to warm them up when he gropes at them, squeezing languidly at your breasts, grabbing handfuls.

It's not long before he’s pinning your thighs up with his hands, spreading you and licking eagerly between your legs, so selfless. Letting you moan as loud as you like, telling you how good you taste, the roughened pads of his fingers circling at the sensitive button at the top of your slit. And he's so strong, doesn't put much effort into keeping your legs up. He has dulcet praises for you, “Such a pretty girl, darlin’, jus’ beautiful,” making you soften and ease.

He’s so warm, holding you, like you wanted him to, messy kisses that taste like you. The very tip of him catches on you, dipping softly between your folds. Your nails dig into him, thighs clench tight. He's sweet talking to you, shushing you, rubbing hard at the delicate little nub, getting you as wet as possible. Saying how good you look. How he must be dreaming. That’s my girl is what he says when you soak his fingers with your own arousal, heat rising to the apples of your cheeks. Even more when he's working his cock inside of you, panting, he seems overwhelmed, mumbling and groaning praises to you, his sweet girl, perfect in that slow easy voice of his. You feel him carefully easing you open, hissing at the feel of you wrapped tight on him and leaking down his shaft. You can't say much but his name, begging him not to stop, feeling his fingers almost bruise the tender softness of your hips. 

Arthur pushes so deep, a growl of pleasure leaking from his lips. You didn't think he would feel so big. Telling him how big he is and feels; “You're so big, Arthur,” in a wispy moan, makes him groan. He just wants to hear how much you like him. The rhythm he was trying to keep slow and careful speeds up. And he doesn't last very long, poor thing. It's been a while for him and he's flushed bright red, embarrassed and feeling a tad emasculated. The disappointed son of a bitch he lets out has you petting his hair back tenderly.

But all you have to do is give him a minute, kiss and nip gently, lock your legs around him so he can't pull away, until he's pushing his own seed deeper, mindlessly pinning you under his weight. He loves feeling so close to you, so small underneath him. 

The way you feel clenching down on him, moaning for him, begging him to keep going has him rutting into you, following his instincts, brain feeling like it's melting. He's harder than he has ever been, listening to the sound of your wetness slide on him, the mess he’s left between your thighs sounding dirty and sticky. You don't have to tell him to keep rubbing you, grinding your hips into his so he can press into the perfect spot. 

His thumb is rubbing at the very center of you, that tender bud, so sensitive, has you pushed to the edge and falling over, legs locking up behind him, bucking and moaning much too loud. You sink your fingers into the layer of fat over his broad muscles, arching your back, feeling so complete. Seeing you so relaxed, feeling so good because of him makes him push as deep as he can, making your toes curl, forcing more of his cum even deeper, a sloppy wet mess that drips out of you when he pulls out. But he revels in those few moments where he's catching his breath, still so deep inside of you, feeling you pulse on him. 

Arthur can’t not hold you afterwards, unsure what to say. He thinks it might be too soon for I love you, maybe you’ll be scared away by his raw sentiments and his lovesick words. But you stare into his eyes; his heart jumps when he blurts it out in the silence, too late to shut his damn mouth. But you only smile and say you love him too. You're the farthest thing from cold, tucked into his chest, not even noticing that the rain has stopped.

Thank you for reading! SO sorry this ended up being so long. Excited to write more for high honor arthur, this was more fun than i thought... I love him 😔😳

[an-au-blog]

modern academic au where viktor just can't get his peace and quiet in the library. Because every time he tries to study, there's this damned himbo that trails him around asking him what he's researching with a big goofy smile. It's always "do you want me to carry your books" and "oh I haven't read that one yet, is it good," and so on and so forth. And in his mind, it's like "just because I'm using a cain doesn't mean I need your help, and yeah of course you haven't read it, you're probably in with some sports scholarship or whatever" but he never voices it. He's the headmaster's portage and he can't go around being rude to random people in the library. Plus, it's not like the other man stays too long, he goes to classes and secludes himself to study as well.

Around exam season, the man stopped hanging off his arm so much, they didn't cross paths in the library or in the halls, but once or twice, Viktor would see him with books about physics, electronics and other things Viktor had been researching before. He never approached him, but he was a bit amused at the seriousness in his expression while he was scribbling something in his notebooks.

If the man WAS on a sports scholarship, perhaps he was reading those books to find a way to talk to Viktor more and in all honesty, it would have been the most someone had done to get to flirt with him, so what if he thought it was a little sweet... it wasn't as if he would expect though. No. His studies were far too important to be put on the back burner for a guy who thought a bone crushing hug (that usually lasts too long for it to be just friendly) was an adequate way to greet an acquaintance.

One day, Viktor found a notebook with research that could be groundbreaking one day. It was past closing hours for the academy, but he had keys so he was left to read all the notes throughout the whole night and even into the day. The neat handwriting, the diagrams, the brilliant ideas... whoever this person was, he was flowing in potential. And when Viktor turned each page he couldn't help but smile to himself, how silly and a bit narcissistic, to sign your name on each of them. Jayce Talis, Jayce Talis, Jace Talis, Jayce Talis, each page, just Jayce Talis, Jayce-

"Hey!"

A familiar voice called for him. Out of breath and disheveled, stood the man who had been trailing him around.

"Oh, I'm so glad I found it- I mean you-" He sagged with relief. But when his eyes flickered from the notes to Viktor and back, he seemed to get a bit sheepish. "I thought I lost them." A whisper to himself before he snapped his eyes back to Viktor. "Ah, uh... you read all of them?"

And there he was, flirting with the same lame excuse, Viktor thought.

"Yes," he decided to humour him a bit. Closing the book and pulling it away from the other. "I was hoping to return it to it's owner, maybe discuss some of the ideas in it."

The man didn't seem to take the hint as he sat across from him with a small smile. "Yeah? So you don't think it's an obnoxious or ridiculous idea?"

"Ridiculous? Perhaps a bit, but it is not obnoxious to want natural resources of this quantity to produce -" He stopped himself, this random guy didn't need to hear it. "Nevermind, you don't need to hear that." Viktor was ready to stand up until he felt a hand reach for his to make him stay.

"No, no! I really want to hear it! Every professor I've tried showing my research to has told me I'm being unrealistic. But I think that with enough time, and effort, it's possible!" His face was glowing. "I mean as far as energy sources go, this could save much for both the people and companies. See- " grabbed one of the notebooks and started flipping through it, "right here, I tried to make a model of-"

"Jayce?" Viktor asked in disbelief.

The other man looked up at him with that dumb smile again. "Yes?"

"Jayce Talis...?"

Jayce tilted his head in question. "Yes?" He asked with more hesitance.

"You are Jayce Talis?" Viktor lifted up the notebook, pointing at the place where the name was signed.

"Did I not introduce myself the first time we met?"

"No!"

Jayce laughed a little awkward chuckle and it made Viktor's chest constrict. With anger, probably...

"Well, I'm sorry, um. My name is Jayce." He reached his hand out for a shake. "Nice to meet you."

"Viktor." He took it. "Likewise." And he found himself meaning it.

[justagalwhowrites]

Turkey Trouble - A TSATS Thanksgiving One Shot

You try to make Thanksgiving dinner for your newly adopted niece, Ellie, but need some help from Joel. A one shot set in the The Savage and the Sanctuary universe.

Pairing: Bodyguard!Joel Miller x Movie Star!Female Reader (from The Savage and the Sanctuary)

Length: 1.7k

CW: SFW; lil angst; modern no outbreak AU but Sarah is still dead (sorry Joel); NO SMUT; no use of Y/N; whole fic this is set in has mature themes and will have smut so minors DNI 18+ only

A/N: You can thank @diversemediums for this because she gave me the brain rot. This would be harder to read as a stand alone fic but it can be done with the understanding that Joel is reader's bodyguard and they have an antagonistic relationship. Reader has recently adopted her best friend's daughter, Ellie, after her friend's death. I'm not sure yet if this is canon or not but it could be? I haven't written to this time in the story yet but I THINK this is about where they'll be emotionally at Thanksgiving.

Joel hated Thanksgiving. 

He used to like it. Back when he was a father he liked it. He and Sarah would watch the parade, he’d make cinnamon rolls and the whole dinner spread, Tommy would bring over burnt mac and cheese and the three of them would go to Waffle House and to pick out a Christmas tree the next morning. 

Now, it was all a reminder of everything he’d lost, of just how little he had left to live for. 

So he took his time getting out of bed on Thanksgiving morning, not looking forward to spending the day missing something he could never have again, something that seemed even more painful when he was facing it with you and Ellie. 

But, eventually, his need for coffee forced him to move and he padded to the kitchen, not bothering to change out of the flannel pants and t-shirt he’d slept in. 

Ellie was on the couch with a mug of cocoa and a cinnamon roll, the parade on and she smirked at him. 

“Well don’t you look pretty in the morning,” she teased. 

“It’s Thanksgiving,” he said, trying to not take his foul mood out on the kid he’d become overly fond of in the last few months. “Not in the mood for a fashion show today.” 

“Oh so the jeans are a fashion show,” she said. “Got it.” 

He rolled his eyes and headed for the kitchen. 

“Careful,” she called after him. “She’s in a mood.” 

“Great,” he muttered, pressing on, anyway. 

You were, indeed, in a mood, standing at your massive kitchen island with a turkey that was far too big for the number of people you were feeding, frowning at a recipe, your hands covered in butter. 

Joel snorted. 

“The hell are you doin’?” 

You looked up to find him, seemingly surprised to find him there.

“Making a turkey,” you said. “What does it look like?” 

“Looks like you’re making a mess,” he said, going around you for the mugs and pouring himself a cup of coffee. 

“Well, cooking is messy,” you said, chin up defiantly. 

“Not that messy,” he said, smirking a little as he leaned back against the counter, crossing an arm over his chest while he drank his coffee. “Where’s Esmo.” 

“It’s Thanksgiving,” you said, incredulous. “I’m not about to ask her to work.” 

“Right,” he said, even though he definitely should have seen that coming when he thought about it. “You ever made a Thanksgiving dinner before?” 

“None of your business,” you said, going back to the turkey and trying to smear butter over it and failing. 

“It is if I’m stuck using this kitchen,” he said. “You’re gonna get salmonella everywhere.”

You glared at him. 

“Well there’s a first time for everything,” you said. “And all I have to do is follow the recipe, so…” 

Joel shoved himself off the counter and looked over your shoulder, down at the recipe. It was not, as he’d expected, some bullshit celebrity cookbook but a simple, handwritten index card. 

He skimmed the instructions and realized that there were parts missing that were probably simple assumptions that you just didn’t know about. 

“Where’s this from?” He asked. 

“Anna,” you said. “Ellie’s mom. She’s hosted Thanksgiving and made a legitimately amazing turkey, Ellie loved it even as a little kid. I should have paid more attention last year but I was stupid and I didn’t and I just want Ellie to have a normal Thanksgiving and I have Anna’s recipe and I just need to figure it out…”

Joel’s chest tightened at that. You wanted Ellie to have a good Thanksgiving, a holiday that was like the ones she had before her mother died. She deserved that. And Joel understood why you’d be dead set on being the one to give it to her. 

He cleared his throat before he got too choked up, trying to remind himself of the distance he’d been struggling to maintain with you. 

“Well, you’re doing it wrong,” he said, taking a sip of coffee. 

You glared at him. 

“Unless you’re some Thanksgiving dinner expert…” 

“Made more than you have,” he said, almost smug. 

“Really,” you said brows raised, incredulous. He shrugged. “You’ve made a turkey.” 

“Sure,” he said. “Plenty. Not sure if you know this but most people don’t got private chefs at their beck and call…” 

“Oh, fuck off.” 

“Do you want my help or not?” He asked. 

“I wasn’t aware you were offering,” you said. 

“Well,” he shrugged. “I am.” 

You ground your teeth for moment before you sighed, literally throwing up your hands. 

“Fine,” you said. “Show me.” 

“Well,” he said, putting his cup down. “For starters…” 

He stuck his hand inside the cavity of the bird and found the neck, pulling it free and holding it up. 

“You gotta take this out.” 

You laughed and groaned. 

“Jesus,” you said. “Alright, Big Miller, show me how it’s done.” 

Joel had to give you credit, you’d done a better job than he’d expected once he took a closer look at the bird. He helped get the rest of dinner ready to go, giving you smaller tasks to do while he managed the turkey. With the two of you working together, you were both able to make it to the living room before the parade was done, sitting on either side of Ellie and watching the musical acts perform and the floats go by. 

Part of him hurt, sitting there with a girl who wasn’t his daughter doing something that had once felt sacred. He didn’t let himself hurt like that anymore, he tried to drown it or shove it down deep as best he could but sometimes he just couldn’t. He couldn’t now. 

But, for some reason, it didn’t bother him the same way this time. Hearing Ellie make a bad pun (“Did you know they took turkey off the menu for Thanksgiving? I suspect fowl play.”), watching you bob your head in time to a musical number, smelling the turkey once it had been in the oven for a bit, even the taste of the coffee with the cinnamon roll warmed something inside him. The pain of loss was still there but so was this strange sense that it didn’t need to consume all of him. That there could be moments worth living for, things that weren’t defined by the missing pieces - even if that piece felt like everything. 

You got the hang of basting relatively quickly and Joel showed you how to make the other Thanksgiving staples, things that he’d once made for his daughter that he was now making for the girl who had become yours. When Elise, Ellie’s grandmother, came over that afternoon, things had come together well. 

“Where’d you learn how to do this?” You asked Joel as you arranged the last of the dishes on the laden dining room table. “You don’t strike me as the chef type.” 

Joel looked at you for a moment and considered telling you the truth, at least for a second. Part of him wanted you to know this, know him. 

But he couldn’t bring himself to say it, her name getting stuck in his throat. 

Instead he just shrugged, setting down a bowl of mashed potatoes. 

“Tommy ain’t much of a cook,” he said. “When our mom died, Thanksgiving didn’t make itself.” 

You cocked your head at him for a moment, like you were trying to decide if he was telling the truth, and then nodded slowly, like you were filing information away. 

“Well, thank you,” you said. “You really did save the day.” 

He shrugged again and took his place at the table with you, Ellie and Elise. 

When the meal was over and the dishes were done, he tried to keep to his room but instead found himself drawn away, something inside him tugging him toward the rest of the world. He went to the living room and found you on the couch, your legs tucked alongside yourself as you watched a movie. 

“Leftovers are in the fridge,” you said, barely glancing his way. 

He grunted and acted like he was walking toward the kitchen but, instead, stopped behind the couch, watching the movie, too. 

“What is this?” He asked eventually. 

You glanced over your shoulder at him and then back at the screen. 

“Love, Actually,” you said. “I used to watch it with Anna after Ellie was in bed on Thanksgiving. Have you seen it?” 

“Heard of it,” he said. “Ain’t seen it, though.” 

“It’s these individual stories about all these different kinds of love. I’m only a few minutes in if you want to watch,” you said, looking at him almost hopefully. He was taken aback, silent for a beat too long and you shook your head. “Never mind…” 

“No,” he said quickly. “Just… yeah, I can watch.” 

“Yeah?” You asked, brows raised. 

“Sure,” he shrugged. “Not like I’m going fuckin’ black Friday shopping in the morning.” 

He sat on the opposite end of the massive couch from you but, over time, drifted closer until the two of you were beside each other. Not touching but a sense of familiarity he wasn’t used to anymore hanging over you both. 

“So,” you said when the movie ended, tears clinging to your eyelashes. “What’d you think?” 

“Not bad,” he said. “Not sure it’s my thing but… not bad.” 

You smiled a little at that. 

“I should get to bed though,” he said. 

“Right,” you said, drying your eyes as he got up. “Hey, Joel?” 

“Hm.” 

“Thank you,” you said. “For everything you did today. I’d have fucked it all up without your help and Ellie deserves better and just… thank you.” 

“Sure,” Joel said. “It… it was nice. Best Thanksgiving I’ve had in a while.” 

“Really?” You asked, brows raised. 

He nodded, the truth of that clutching hard at his chest, just how much you and Ellie had come to mean to him in the months he’d been protecting you, this keen vulnerability settling in him at that thought. 

But he’d deal with that later. He wasn’t going to let it ruin shit now. 

“Yeah,” he said. “It was.’

[azaleaaa-blog]

Good morning

"Hey, love. Wake up."

I pull the blanket higher until it covers the top of my head when a cool hand taps my cheek slowly. It feels like I've just closed my eyes ten minutes ago. Nope. I won't leave my warm bed at least for another ten hours.

Zayne sighs softly when only a handful of my dark brown hair peeking from under the blanket. He knows I must be staying late again last night, and so is he. But today is the only day me and him finally got free time between piles of deadline and dense work.

Besides, it's me who said that I haven't had any outdoor date in a while and today would be a perfect day.

"Hey," he strokes my hair. "Should we just cancel?"

"Hmm," I hummed, shift closer and curled up to him instinctively.

Zayne chuckles. He pulls my blanket down to my chin. My eyes are closed.

"Come on, my love, wake up. We have in-pair mission to be done today."

He pinches my nose mischievously. I frown, and groan, eyes still closed.

"It's very sunny today." He runs his finger through my hair. "Come on, wake up."

"Don' wanna." I mumble.

"Wake up, or you need a kiss to wake you up?"

"Mm, shuddup."

Zayne sighs once more, then pulls me into a loose hug. Smiling when I nuzzle into the crook of his neck. "We shouldn't buy those amusement park tickets."

"Sleepy." My voice muffled on his warm skin.

"We promised we will go out today."

"Mm.. later."

"It's already..." Zayne glances at the digital clock on the nightstand. "Ten o'clock."

"I change my mind."

Zayne laughs, then presses his lips on my temple. "Don't wanna spend time with me?"

"I do."

"It's a pity if we only spend today laying on bed all day."

"Sounds good."

Zayne gives up. It's not like he has a heart to force me to get up and drags me out when I'm this comfy. Plus, cuddle all day doesn't sound bad at all.

He closes his eyes, and lets the comfortable silence envelops both of us.

"Zayne?"

"Hm?"

"Do we cancel?"

He opens one of his eyes, "I thought you miss me so much you're not willing to let me go even for a second, and would prefer to hug me like this forever?"

I snort, wriggle in his arms to stretch my stiff muscle. "What time is it?"

Zayne glances the clock once more, "ten fifteen."

"I'll be ready in twenty minutes." I yawn, rubbing the sleep off my eyes. "I'll go take a shower."

"Wait, you forget something important."

I clocked an eyebrow, "What?"

Zayne's expression is dead serious. "Morning kiss."

I hold his cheeks with both of my hands, helplessly affectionate, "you sure are a spoiled one, don't you."

"This spoiled one is yours anyway," he said cheekily. "Just deal with it."

I lean down, pressing a kiss on his forehead, laugh when Zayne pouts. "Good morning, my love."

[chokisnumber1fan]

reblogging this at 2 am so my thoughts are SUPER incoherent and very offtopic and tangential, sorry about that </3

this is such a good analysis of nagi's possible backstory! and while i haven't read past the BM v MC match yet, to me this gives a lot more depth to the relationship that nagi and reo have. i might be delusional since nagi is one of my favourites and also since i don't know much about the later chapters other than a really vague direction but i think this serves as a good reminder that neither nagi nor reo are inherently 'bad' or take up an antagonistic role— they are just two boys that got too codependent and need some space away from each other to develop on their own.

i see a lot of people jump to antagonising either nagi or reo, or judge their duo as a good/bad one, but imo it's more important to view them from a more neutral lens since this isn't just about football or just about their personal lives outside of it— we can see just how much their 'personal' affects their 'field relationship' and vice versa.

from here on out i'm probably straying from the main point that OP is trying to make, so you've been warned!!!

also, if we were to assume that nagi is indeed one of the neglected to some extent kids— then i believe that chris and agi could truly have done better with how they handled nagi. it's pretty obvious that nagi is heavily dependent on reo, but instead of cutting reo out entirely they could have trained the two of them together in a way that allows them to still play together but not be completely dependent on the other. but then again i can see why this would be a much harder task to pull off because of their respective goals and their feelings towards each other (more specifically, reo's feelings towards nagi) that would definitely get in the way. like, reo is entirely capable of scoring goals on his own but he chooses not to because his main objective has always been to assist nagi— and because of this, nagi's had everything handed to him on a silver platter by reo. their formation served them well in the initial stages of blue lock but it's falling apart now, in major part because it was mostly an emotionally driven formation, which makes it a lot easier to predict especially if you're someone like isagi who knows them and their relationship.

nagi and reo are somewhat unique in that their struggles are against their own inherent natures and pasts and not because of them lacking in some sort of skill or whatever. nagi doesn't have the drive to do anything unless he has a solid goal that he wants to reach— he just won't bother putting in effort it (just like OP mentioned).

reo is willing to give nagi the attention and validation he needs; and while this was fine in the beginning, you could say he's almost starting to smother nagi now— almost mirroring the relationship reo has with his own parents, ironically enough. it's gotten to the point where reo cannot be trusted as a narrator since he let his feelings distort the words that nagi really said to him at the start of the second selection. he projected his worst fears regarding nagi and made them true in his mind. i think that reo has a problem with idolising and devoting himself to people to the point of detriment, especially to himself.

lord help me i have rambled so much about this, honestly i don't think i'm even making any sense right now. i feel like that deranged connect the dots meme man right now. somehow this all links up and makes sense in my head so i hope my disorganised addition to OPs post will somehow telepathically make sense to anyone else reading this too 🙏🙏🙏👍👍

I have this foreboding feeling that while we are prepared for Sae's and Shidou's backstory, Nagi's backstory is going to sneak from behind and punch us in the gut.

No, I don't think it's going to be straight up depression like Kaiser's, but I do think that it'll hit close to home.

You see, Nagi got Laissez-faire parents which means they never really interfered with his life. Like, these type of parents—as I have read on some websites—will basically set their child free and let them do whatever they want with no or very few rules/restrictions. They will not tell you, "Oh! You should do this!" or "Oh! You shouldn't do this!" They will simply let you figure out your life all by yourself.

I'm not an expert on this and I'm not calling this type of parenting bad in any way. Every child is different with different needs, and I'm sure there are many who grew up in this kinda family and liked this parenting method. However, I do think that Nagi didn't like it that much, and I got two reasons to think this way:

1. "That's nice."

When Reo said that his family constantly meddles in his life, Nagi's immediate reaction was, "That's nice" instead of being surprised or disgruntled. If Nagi really liked his parents NOT meddling in his life, then he should've said something like, "Really!? Sucks to be you, Reo. I can't imagine living a life like that!"

You getting me?

Also, we all know how Nagi is—he definitely feels that telling someone to do or not to do something is a hassle, so he, probably, feels that if someone is doing all this for you, then you are important for them.

And before any one says, no, I don't think Nagi was tying up his tongue thinking, "They are his parents. They wouldn't want anything bad for their own child, right? I shouldn't say anything against them and should say good things about them just to be safe." I don't think he has this kind of filter in him.

2. "Don't die ."

So, why would you not want someone to die? Of course, because you care for them and want them to be with you.

"Want"

That's really what I'm tryna highlight.

It's a pretty common knowledge that some children are just naturally more independent while others are a bit more dependent and seek guidance from the elders. Considering Nagi's first reaction to knowing about Reo's parents' meddling, I think that Kiddo!Nagi falls into the latter category��someone who likes to be guided and helped by the adults. Now, place Kiddo!Nagi with his Laissez-faire parents... You are getting where I'm going with this one?

That's why I think that Kiddo!Nagi, probably, thought that his parents didn't love him/care for him. And what happens if someone doesn't love you or care for you? Yeah, they don't care if you die which, somewhat, explains why Older!Nagi was happy to hear, "Don't die [before us (probably)]" from his parents.

I have already talked about his potential backstory before too, so it was actually when I heard he had longer bangs as a child that made my head turn to him again—something felt odd.

I understand that having long bangs is not a big deal—Niko's bangs literally cover his eyes, but having it as a kid is way different, y'know. Once you are like 12-13, you somewhat become capable of doing your own hair and clothes by yourself, so you can manage whatever aesthetics you prefer. However, for a kid younger than that, it's the parents' responsibility to look after his/her hair and clothes, and we all know that long bangs are quite bothersome—blocks our vision, sometimes stabs the eyes, and even irritatingly itches the nose.

All in all, till his backstory drops, I'd firmly believe that he was, though unintentionally, a neglected kid—at least, emotionally.

Now I can't get this image out of my head where Kiddo!Nagi is longingly staring at other kids in a park where everyone is learning things like riding a bicycle or maybe playing baseball and stuff with their parents while he is just.. there, probably, all alone.

[vanesycho]

• bf!minho x gf!reader x minho's friend!jisung

warning | smut, p in v, fingering, squirt

word count | 1,2k

a/n | this could be shit, I haven't written in a long time, I needed to get my head together

anyways enjoy reading！

“Yeah, of course you can come. Jisung? Oh I don’t think it’ll be a problem for him.” Minho’s eyes drifted to Jisung, who was on the computer while he was talking to you on the phone, knew very well that he was listening to him. “I love you too, baby, see you later.” After he hung up, he stood up and walked towards him, approached him from behind and spoke close to his ear. “Y/n will be here soon.” Jisung jumped at the sudden chill in his neck and turned his head to him. “Ah..Should I leave you alone?” he prayed for him to say yes. Hearing you fucking from a room while he couldn’t resist his feelings for you was getting on his nerves.

Minho knew exactly how he felt about you. He would have to be an idiot not to know, Jisung was a very obvious person and could never keep a secret. Was he angry tho? Strangely, no. The thought of you with him excited him in a vague way. He didn’t hesitate to share you with Jisung, so he was the one who specifically asked you to come today. You had already set off, knowing everything.

The corners of Minho’s lips curled up. “No, no, don’t go anywhere. Having you here will make everything more fun.” The sentence he said caused Jisung’s eyebrows to furrow. While he thought about the meaning of the sentence he said, Minho left him alone with question marks in his head.

You turned your head to the side and looked at your boyfriend, who was sitting sprawled out on the chair. The slight smirk on his face and the way his eyes roamed all over both of your bodies as he watched the two of you. “Fuck, Y/n.” Jisung let out a groan, you whimpered as his cock slowly slid inside you. He had been dreaming of this for so long that he wanted to take his time, he didn’t even care about your boyfriend watching you from a corner of the room anymore.

Minho stood up, walked towards the bed, and leaned into Jisung’s neck while not breaking eye contact with you. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” His breath was burning his neck, he couldn’t speak, he whimpered as he thrust hard into you again and nodded. Seeing how needy he was, Minho let out a small chuckle. “How cute. You’ve been dreaming about this pussy for a long time, haven’t you? How good she would feel, how tight her walls would be around your cock, how your name would flow from her lips…”

Every sentence of his would make Jisung cum faster, he put his hand on the side of your head and took a deep breath before looking at you, the way you looked so beautiful under him...He wasn’t sure he could ever get that image out of his head. “You better faster now. I’m not done with you yet.” He glanced at Minho who had sat back down on the chair and did as he was told. While it was the two of you in bed and he was the one fucking you, it was the one in the corner of the room who was actually dominating.

His entire cock started to enter you quickly, you moaned his name, unable to hold back your moans, each hard thrust bringing you closer to your orgasm and Minho knew it. He knew you like the back of his hand. The hard strokes inside your pussy didn't stop you after a while, you cum around his cock. Jisung continued his thrusts a little longer and then pulled back, jerking himself off with his hand and soon coming between your legs.

“Now...” Jisung turned to him, out of breath. Minho spoke as he stood up again and walked towards the two of you. “Tell me Jisung, have you ever made a girl squirt?” He placed one hand on the bed and leaned over you, the other hand starting to caress your cheek. “I- no…” he hadn’t even fucking with a girl in a long time. Minho turned his head to him. “Do you want to try?” his eyes widened in momentary surprise, making Minho laugh, fingers moved towards your pussy. Jisung watching every move. Minho positioned two fingers at your hole and watched them slowly slide inside you. Then he turned back to Jisung and watched how he swallowed hard. “It’s not that hard, here, I’ll guide you.” He looked up at him "I'm- I'm not sure hyung, just-"

"I said do it. Are you disobeying me? I'm letting you fuck my girlfriend, weren't you imagining this?" He held his chin tightly, getting closer to him, Jisung tried to pull away but couldn't because of his gaze, he just nodded "Good boy." He turned his attention to you and gave you a small smile, leaving a small kiss on your lips. "Now, put your fingers inside her and start fingering like normal." He didn't hesitate, two fingers sliding into your still wet pussy, the feeling of your tight walls making him let out a small moan. Curled his fingers inside you as he moved in and out of you at a normal pace, watching how your breathing became irregular and your legs parted for him "Come on, don't be so delicate with her. You won't hurt her, sure she came easily under the rougher stuff." The voice in his ear was making things harder, his fingers started to speed up, the sound of your wetness and moans filled the four walls. "Good. Now put your other hand on her lower belly and press lightly." He didn't hesitate again.

Jisung's hand went to your lower belly and gently pressed you down onto the bed, preventing you from moving your hips, while Minho's thumb started to play with your clit.

A whimper left your mouth, this time your legs started to move but Minho held one of your legs tightly. "Stay still." His finger stroking your clit sped up, the pleasure you were getting from both sides was driving you crazy. The two fingers were fucking your pussy hard, relentlessly. The strange feeling enveloped you as your orgasm approached, you knew there was more. The sheer pleasure was already making your eyes water, Minho let out a small chuckle at the sight. "Look at her. Are you that needy, baby? Does Jisung's fingers feel good?" you couldn't speak, you just nodded in agreement. "Then let him know."

Your gaze turned to him, seeing your eyes full of tears, made him curse under his breath, you let out another moan as his finger fucked your pleasure spot. “Jisung- fuck..You feel so good..Please, I-” you couldn’t finish your sentence, the stroke on your clit sped up and the weird feeling in your stomach increased. It didn’t even cross their minds to slow down when they both knew you were close. A few more thrust to your pleasure spot and with a loud moan you came, no you literally squirted. Your eyes were closed in exhaustion as the two stared at the mess you had made, Jisung slowly pulled his fingers out of you, moan slightly as the sight made his cock harden again. Minho looked at Jisung who was still insatiable, one last whisper in his ear was enough to make the night last longer for you. “Just so you know, Y/n is so fucking good with her mouth.”

[wryoth]

Guys.... I don't feel so good..

Ugh, Clown's like slight betrayal has me on a chokehold because like, it's not even shocking but like at the same time it's why we're doubting it. Mane could be lying but at the same time what could he gain from that? A fight from Clown cuz maybe he thinks Clown cares about Kab or something?? No idea

But like I don't know half of the story because I wasn't there when like Clown and Kab first interacted and had their alliance in her first few days. Maybe Clown changed his ways. But idk, it kinda just broke my heart. Kaboodle would burn the world down for him and he wouldn't even do the same, so are we like getting Kab genuine villain arc?? Kab needs to talk to him so bad lmaoo

but here are my genuine thoughts: Killerbunnies is such a tight bond, it's unbreakable and is beyond friendship and family. But the problem is that it also has a huge power dynamic, right? Clown is great at PvP, he betrays, he leaves people behind but in turn he also gets betrayed and people don't trust him. Meanwhile Kaboodle is bad at PvP but she's good at manipulating, turning the tides but just like Clown, she sometimes betrays, leaves people behind and in return she also gets betrayed and people don't trust her and I think the craziest part about that is that's the only thing they might have in common. The WANT for companionship. But the question is, how do they show it?

Because yeah, while they have similarities in terms of that and that, Clown and Kab are very different and you can't deny that Clown has more power over Kab and that's why I think they don't see each other as equals, with Kab planning to sacrifice herself when the time comes and Clown making time for her. But you also can't deny that it's different in a good way.

I honestly think Manepear made some good points, I like to think of it as this way. Everyone has humanity in them and even those who have a lot can only express a little and people who have less can show more. You can have a lot (Good Intent) but it's like, it will have a lot of negative impact on the people if you can't show it. Kinda like Kab's analogy.

Like that's the thing with Kab too, remember that major crashout with like Zam where she's like "Yeah he cares but it's like he doesn't care enough to try. " and yes it's different for Clown cause maybe he just sucks at showing feelings but like you gotta see how it also applies to that because maybe Clown cares, but like does he care enough to try for YOU? Yes maybe he helped Kab but like Kab has done more, and yes it's not fair for Kab to expect Clown to do stuff for him and to do the same but that's the thing, Kab doesn't expect Clown to do that so I feel like Clown doesn't try to, but Clown probably doesn't expect Kab to sacrifice herself for him yet she will. It's like that thing where two characters would die for each other and it's unspoken, except this time it's one sided. I honestly don't think it counts as a betrayal and maybe it's fake but it's a huge eye opener for maybe Kab and some of the viewers cause yeah I haven't been here long enough to know all of the lore so my bad lmaoo. Like y'all gotta understand, power dynamics are a huge part in relationships.

Idk, maybe the huge problem with them is expectations, miscommunication, Kab's trust issues and Clown's inability to reassure her sometimes, like it's such a good plot for unscripted stuff cuz it feels like it's been foreshadowed by complete accident LOL

[taralen]

💡 The significance of Spamton's character arc and connection with Kris.

Late-night thoughts and analysis by an actual crazy person.

[Warning: Some spoilers for Chapter 2]

Say what you want about Spamton, but at least he has the self-awareness to realize he's been a piece of @#$%. Not everyone can do that despite harboring negative feelings for others. He wants revenge but is internally conflicted and values Kris despite his selfish desires. If he wants to, he can easily cannon that little sucker the moment he gets his upgrade, but he doesn't. He hesitates, and even during his secret boss fight as SNEO, he still struggles and wants Kris to be the one to give up their soul.

He knows Kris is someone he connects to on a deep level, who came into his life without warning, as if by happen-chance. They don't know each other long, but they have an instant bond, and both see eye-to-eye in their struggles, at least in the main route. In Snowgrave, we see what happens when Spamton is indulged too much. He caves into his selfish desires because he comes to see Kris and Noelle as tools rather than friends. Ultimately, he admits that he manipulated them the whole time and only cares about himself.

The player's soul is selfish in the Snowgrave route, indulging Spamton to be cruel and power-trip. Spamton has garbage self-esteem, but when the opportunity comes for something to feed his fragile ego, he takes it without thinking about the consequences. Spamton, at his core, is not evil, but he's not necessarily a good person. He has what it takes to be one, but it takes one person (Kris) to see this light in him and not give up on it. Now, imagine if, at the end of the extra boss fight, Spamton remains indignant.

Imagine how different the perception of his character would be if, instead of lending his strength, he chooses to die on this hill about how he is always right and that his ambitions matter more than anything else. 🤔

He'd probably bounce around in his wires and insist he'd "WIN" if only Kris's friends didn't interfere. Where would he end up? Probably in a cage like King, humiliated and alone or forced to become a weapon like in the Snowgrave route.

I'm glad Toby did not end his character arc in a predictable way that lacks growth. I would surely not love this character as much if he turned out that way. Sure, he would still have his charisma and be an interesting character, but he wouldn't be the Spamton we know and love in this fandom. He wouldn't be a character so many of us can resonate with and feel happy for once he finally realizes his pride and greed are not what matters most. He teaches us a valuable lesson in empathy.

Allowing himself to be vulnerable to Kris gives him this strange spiritual awakening that no one else has given him in his entire life. Rather than run and shun Kris, he values them until the very end and realizes that even though they cut his strings, they don't do it to hurt him. They do it to make him realize that his self-serving mindset truly holds him back. Humility, empathy, and being able to admit to his deepest flaws make him such a fantastic character. In the end, he learns to forgive them and himself. 💛🩷

[cathalbravecog]

i'm the antonymph of the internet

[adore-gregor]

Lol I keep on doing this, saying I'd come back to tumblr to only disappear again 😂😭

[thevegetablewhichnoonedaresname]

tonight I go to bed grateful not to be in my bnha phase right now

[keeps-ache]

yay yippee yay :3 🎉

[dredshirtroberts]

oh shit y'all.

i've done gotten invested in Gurren Lagann. we're like 19 episodes deep in this paint and i have been emotionally compromised by the silly mechs.

believe in the me.

[robinsnest2111]

always fun whenever I bring up an anecdote from my childhood and it turns out it wasn't an anecdote, but actually recounting an apparently traumatic event. at least according to the people I tell the anecdote to.

[mrfoox]

.... OK I really hope I can keep this dude ♥

[bladeofthestars]

i wish it didn't take so long to get literally anything done in the american health care system