#I saw it immediately but it was all on one layer and I couldn't change the previous pictures anymore so I just left it

[bleeding-seraphic]

okay so I am still working on that silly animatic but I put it on brief hold for this because I was plagued by visions

Anyway Mouthwashing actor au

[drunk-person]

Training Yard

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Summary: One of Y/n's most common habits is admiring her husband's training every day. On a particularly hot day, the jealousy of the other ladies makes her achieve everything she has been dreaming of for a long time..

WARNING: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, swords being used inappropriately, jealousy sex, dom/sub tones if you squint, no description for reader.

Word cont: 2.800 k

Author's note: Okay, I think those gifs and images with a special focus on Aemond's sword changed the chemistry of my brain, and from that change this one short was born. English is not my first language so be kind if you can.

When Y/n was promised to Aemond and traveled with her family to Kings landing to meet him the first time she saw him was at the training camp. He was brandishing a sword and fighting like a demon. The look of concentration on his face, the way he moved fluidly, the sweat that dripped down his forehead, all of it caught Y/n's attention and made her thighs press together in a way she hadn't understood at the time.

Even in her homeland when the marriage was announced, everyone told her that Prince Aemond was a great warrior, but nothing had prepared her for that. It didn't take long for both of them to get married and gradually build their own daily routine. Y/n, just as her husband woke up very early, and they both had breakfast together, soon after Aemond left for the training yard. And Y/n couldn't even say when it became such a recurring habit to watch her husband training every morning. But she could definitely say that it was one of her favorite parts of the day.

Y/n now knew what that pressure between her thighs meant when she saw her husband in the training yard. She knew even better. And even after almost twelve moons of marriage, she still felt the same feeling whenever she saw him. Today in particular the day was particularly hot, as it was the middle of summer, and even though she was wearing a lighter dress Y/n could still feel the sweat running down between her breasts and down her back as she fanned herself with a fan.

She admired her husband's every move downstairs as he fought with Sir Criston, and she couldn't help but bite her lip gently as she watched him grip the hilt of his sword tightly. Y/n could see that Aemond was sweating wearing all those layers of clothes, his silver hair was damp with sweat, and it was to her great surprise that he had an attitude that she would never have expected. He took off his doublet and opened the thin shirt he was wearing underneath, she sighed when he saw the scene, but the contentment soon passed when she noticed that the other ladies of the court were looking at her husband like hungry dogs would look at a piece of meat.

Y/n gritted her teeth angrily as she held tightly to the wooden support of the balcony, as she thought about how lovely it would be to be able to throw one of them from above. And with her eyes sparkling, she barely waited for the fight to end before going down to the courtyard and approaching where Aemond was.

As soon as Aemond disarmed Sir Cole, causing his sword to be thrown a long distance, and placed his own sword against the older man's throat, the audience applauded happily. But no Y/n, she was smarter than doing something so trivial. And with that in mind she pretended to drop the green fan with gold embroidery that she used to fan herself and relieve the heat.

Aemond immediately bent down, picking up the fan from the floor and handing it into her hands, touching her skin in public even if quickly as he placed the fan back between Y/n's hands.

— Thank you very much husband. — She spoke softly, looking at him from beneath her long eyelashes, already opening the fan again, while she gently bit her lip.

—You're welcome wife. — He replied, looking lightly at the drops of sweat that fell down his wife's neckline, when she intelligently guided his gaze there using the fan. —I see that you are also feeling very hot.

—Well, I told you not to go out in such heavy clothes today, if you had listened to me maybe you wouldn't be walking around practically naked in public. — She spoke only for Aemond to hear, curving his eyebrows and wrinkling his nose, while he looked at her with that ironic smile that made her want to jump on him, to kill him or other things.

—I'm going to retire to our quarters, my prince, the weather is very hot. — And she turned around, closing the fan and walking away without even looking back, already knowing that it wouldn't be long before he would follow her to the bedroom. Aemond always got a little wild after training, with her teasing him he knew he would want her.

As she passed the court ladies, Y/n made a point of smiling arrogantly before heading inside the fortress. Aemond was her husband, only hers and no one else's. And still with her body tense with jealousy and desire, she entered the dark corridor to get to her own rooms faster. But before she could walk two meters she felt someone covering her mouth with their hand while pulling her firmly around the waist. Y/n screamed muffledly as she struggled, until the soft voice came in her ear.

—Easy, my princess.

Hearing Aemond's voice her whole body instantly relaxed, even as he dragged her into an even darker corner and pinned her firmly against the wall of a cramped alcove.

—What did you think you were doing? — He spoke with an irritated voice against her hair while holding her. — Looking at me like that in public, practice begging me to fuck you.

—Well, maybe I wanted to show some unsuspecting people that Prince Aemond has already been married for almost a year before they jump on you! —Y/n practically growled the words in annoyance, and it became even worse when she felt Aemond laughing against her neck.

—So that's what this is about? —He asked in a mocking voice. — Jealousy.

—I'm not jealous. — She replied grumpily, still pressed against the wall.

—Oh no, you are burning with. — He smiled at the realization.

—You know that my only eye is only for you, wife. — He said kissing her neck from behind. — Just for you.

—You think I don't see the way you look every morning when you watch me train. — He whispered, nibbling on her neck. — That I don't watch the way you bite your lip every time I grip the sword hilt. — He bit her earlobe as he said that while pressing himself against her clothed ass, making her gasp.

And without warning he pulled the strings of her dress violently while Y/n's eyes widened in shock as they were almost in the middle of a hallway. The flowing dress fell at her feet and Y/n felt herself blushing for being practically naked in that place.

—Aemond, what if someone shows up? —She spoke fearfully.

—Should you have thought about that before. —He said, pulling her small clothes down and stripping her completely naked while he trailed wet kisses down her back. Suddenly she felt Aemond turn her around and push her in the other direction, lifting her off the floor and sitting her on a small sideboard, knocking over a vase that was previously on top.

—Aemond! —She reprimanded him, but was interrupted when he pressed his lips to hers while holding her thighs, caressing them and keeping them open. He trailed kisses from her lips to her neck, and from her neck to her soft breasts where he feasted on licking and sucking like he knew Y/n liked. And little by little, the caresses that were on her thighs moved up towards her throbbing core, which panted in anticipation every time Aemond's fingers got closer to where she needed him most.

—Husband… —She whimpered when he rubbed two fingers against her wetness.

—So wet for me. — He said, looking down at her, still paying attention to her breasts.

—I need you inside me. — She begged with a needy voice while Aemond slowly massaged her pearl, and she saw the gleam of malice in his eyes as he shook his head.

—No, you don't deserve to get what you want. —Aemond gently pinched her pearl, making her moan and lightly bite her own hand to muffle the noise. — You were such a negligent wife, leaving in the middle of my training, making me have to drop everything and come to you.

—No, you deserve something else. — He said, pulling her and making her almost scream in surprise as he turned her around and leaned over the small sideboard.

Y/n listened as Aemond unbuckled his belt and raised her eyebrows in confusion, not understanding what he would do. But the realization came soon after when she felt something cold against her hot and wet intimacy, panting immediately afterwards.

—I noticed some time ago the way you always look at my sword when you think I'm not looking. — Aemond said while lightly brushing the handle of the sheathed sword against Y/n's intimacy, who pressed her eyes firmly while biting her lips in disbelief that this was really happening.

And without warning he penetrated the first part of the handle into her wet pussy, making her squirm with pleasure and bite her own arm to keep from moaning when she felt the cold metal against her hot skin. Aemond watched ecstatically as the rounded part of the handle was swallowed whole while Y/n moaned and panted with pleasure, he waited a few moments before pushing the rest in and no longer moving it letting her adapt to the size, while he smiled at the sight of his wife squirm, leaking more and more against the handle of the sword.

—Husband… —She begged, looking back with her face wet with tears and her lips red from biting them so much. — Husband, please. —Aemond smiled maliciously, but did not move the sword even an inch. —Aemond, I'm begging you. — She cried rubbing herself against the hilt of the sword.

—Look at you, my dear wife. —He said caressing her moist lips with his finger. —Begging like a real whore.

Y/n immediately nodded, leaning towards him for a kiss, which Aemond didn't have the courage to refuse. And in the middle of the wet and breathless kiss he moved the handle of the sword, thrusting firmly against Y/n's pussy, making her almost scream against his lips while digging her nails into her husband's neck. Aemond smiled against her lips and little by little he picked up speed, in a constant back and forth that made Y/n shiver with pleasure and lose control about one's own body.

She felt like she was going to collapse at any moment, the feeling of the metal filling her making her feel things she had never imagined before. The wet, filthy sound filling the air and the idea of ​​anyone walking by and seeing Aemond doing this to her made her even wetter if that was possible. Heat flooded her entire body and the smell of sweat filled the small alcove at that moment. Y/n did her best to remain silent, but it was almost impossible not to moan her husband's name and beg him to give her more, feeling on the verge of climax.

—Maybe you want them all to listen. — Aemond spoke in a hoarse and low voice close to her ear while sucking her earlobe. —Let them all hear you moan like a little whore while I fuck you with the hilt of my sword.

Y/n couldn't take it anymore, it was like everything inside her broke at once and she came against the hilt of her husband's sword shaking and whimpering as she squirmed and tried to hold on to the small sideboard. Her legs were shaking like jelly and she could barely stand, the feeling of her husband pulling the sword hilt out of her almost made her scream from overstimulation.

Aemond smiled with satisfaction as he pulled the hilt of the sword from inside Y/n, seeing it covered in the white fluids and liquids that came from his wife's pleasure, he never failed to be impressed by the fact that she became even more beautiful destroyed with pleasure. And still smiling, admiring the mess between her legs, he untied the drawstrings of his pants and pulled his own dick out, stroking it a few times and then rubbing it against her moist folds.

Y/n thought she was going to faint from the feeling of being filled again, but now completely. She was so sensitive after her first orgasm that it was as if Aemond was everywhere, and she couldn't help but grind against him for more.

—Always so good and eager for me.— Aemond praised her as he fucked her harder and harder and caressed her hips and breasts. —Such a good and wet cunt.

—You don't need to be jealous, wife, the only one I live for is you, no one else. — He said, sucking her neck and leaving a kiss there while Y/n whimpered and agreed, looking for his lips anxiously.

The two kissed eagerly and Aemond gained even more strength in his thrusts, and when Y/n was on the verge of orgasm again, footsteps sounded in the hallway and Aemond stopped his movements while covering her mouth, signaling for his wife to stay quiet.

Aemond then took advantage of the pause by withdrawing from inside her and turning her to face him and when the steps were far enough away he kissed her again hungrily, and already penetrating her once again with force. Y/n in turn brought her hands to his face, pulling him more and more towards her, wanting to feel every little part of him against her, and she barely noticed when the eye patch fell to the floor, only noticing when they both separated from the kiss. and the shine of the sapphire was present in the dark alcove, making her sigh with contentment at the sight.

—Husband, I want you so much. — She sighed, pulling him into another kiss, feeling closer and closer to the edge with each thrust from Aemond, and feeling him accelerate, she came against his cock, crying and moaning while putting her head in the gap between his neck and shoulder.

—I love you husband, I love you so much. —She whimpered, leaving kisses on his neck, and hearing his wife say those words while feeling her pussy milking him, Aemond came deeply inside her, shuddering and calling his wife's name with his face contorted with pleasure.

Y/n made a point of lifting her head to see the scene before her, in her opinion there was nothing as beautiful in that world as Aemond's face, the only thing that could compare was Aemond's face after the climax.

She caressed his face gently while she felt him massaging her waist with his fingertips still inside her, both still panting, a few moments later Aemond came out of her and lovingly helped her get dressed.

—I'm going to retire to our quarters, husband. —Y/n said visibly tired, and at the same moment Aemond's look changed and he shook his head.

—Oh no you won't.—He said holding her face between his hands firmly looking her in the eyes while speaking in a slightly hoarse voice. — Now you're going to go back there, sit like the obedient and devoted wife you are with my seed running down your legs and watch the rest of the training, knowing that my sword is full of your cunt juice.

—But husband... — She said with wide eyes.

—As I've told you a few times, wife, we must think about the consequences before acting. —He said, replacing his eye patch and fixing his own clothes with a smile.

—If you're lucky, there will only be you up there at that time.

He then fastened the belt with the sword back around his waist and Y/n could see the hilt still glistening with her fluids, and felt her face burn with embarrassment.

—I will never need a tournament favor again as long as I carry this sword. —Aemond said mockingly, looking at her and Y/n rolled her eyes angrily, since her husband didn't even participate in tournaments.

[dolicekiss]

Yandere Will Graham Headcanon

PAIRING: Yandere!Will Graham x reader

CONTENT WARNING: Noncon (not in detail), dark Will Graham, yandere behavior, manipulation, coercion, obsessed Will, adult grooming, taking advantage of reader, trauma, kidnapping, abuse, murder, guilt tripping, forced impregnating.

He first laid his gaze on you when he found you cooped up in the corner of a house, a victim of utmost violence by the hands of an unstable woman who thought she was only protecting you from evil — a mother who'd lost her child so she went on a rampage to kidnap girls and forcefully mother them.

Will Graham had saved multiple girls from the clutches of that woman but you — you had caught his attention.

Late at night, he often found himself thinking about you. How your hair hovered over your face, the sheer terror in your eyes. You were the most abused and hurt victim of that woman. It left a scar on you.

His visits at the hospital you were admitted grew more upon finding out from Jack Crawford that you were an orphan.

Bringing you food, taking care of you, even reading books to bring ease to you and sleeping on the couch across your bed.

Slowly and surely, he found his way underneath your layers and coaxed you into depending on him. Grooming you into becoming dependent on him.

Whenever he didn't visit, you denied your food as well as resisting to eat your medicines. But when Will Graham came, everything calmed down.

People began to talk. Just why had you grown this attached to him? And when Will Graham was told to stay away from you by Jack Crawford, it only angered him.

So he stopped visiting you. Waited and waited for you to be discharged, lurking in the shadows. He waited for you to come to him and when you came running to his office, it was a sight he couldn't forget.

Yandere!Will Graham who immediately took you in when you came to him — knowing he had you wrapped around his finger.

He saw you talking to Alana and after eavesdropping on your conversation with her, he figured she was advicing you against him. It angered him. So he decided to get rid of her.

When she ended up dead, everyone was scared because of how brutal her death was. It even left you scared, turning to Will for comfort.

And the man welcomed you with open arms. Telling you to never leave him, or you'd end up like her too.

Only he could protect you, only he could save you like how he already did against your perpetrator and you believed him. How could you not? He was always there to protect you.

Yandere!Will Graham not allowing you to leave his house, guilt tripping you into taking care of his dogs because they don't have anyone other than him.

One day you were cleaning around the house and found a heel, a very familiar looking heel. It was Alana’s and before you could register what was happening, Will was behind you.

He tackled you down on the floor, holding you against it while trying to explain himself.

You'd realized that Will had killed Alana, the same man who claimed to be your protector.

“She was telling you to be independent, to find yourself. Just how could I let that happen? You're mine, I did all this for you.”

There was no way you could free yourself from him. You were terrified, remnants of your horrifying experience coming back to you.

Will held you tightly against his chest as he stabbed you with a syringe, rendering you unconscious. When you woke back up, you found yourself chained.

He sat right next to you, arms on his knees as he stared at you. Eyes glimmering with excitement when he saw you regained consciousness.

“Don't be afraid. I would never hurt you, don't look at me like that.”

It didn't matter. You were all over the place. Face wet with tears and sweat, lips twitching in fear and breath ragged. You were still a sight for sore eyes. His sore eyes.

Yandere!Will who believed that the only way to change your mind was to fuck you, take you right then and there and make you his totally.

And after he was done with you, he'd left you so braindead, there was no way you could leave him now.

Weak minded, broken and with nowhere to go, you accepted him.

Yandere!Will promising you that he'll give you a child to strengthen your relationship — no matter how much he feared his own turning out like him. He was willing to risk it for you.

[velvetures]

Hi!!! I saw your post about taking some requests so I thought that I'll give it a shot. If it's possible, could you maybe do a Captain Price one? I haven't seen a story about him yet on your page, so I hope that this request can finally add one to your masterlist.

So here it goes: A Price x virgin!reader one. I feel like he's the type of guy to be really gentle and slow when he realizes that the reader is inexperienced, mostly due to his calm and caring nature. But once they start to get comfy, he'll get kind of rough in some way? And aftercare, I just know that this man would be an expert at it. Would help in washing them up in a tub or even cooking them a meal after. I could see that he's also a sucker for cuddles and just being close to them in general.

So yeah, I really hope that you'll consider this request and possibly write something out of it. If not, that's totally okay!!

Side note: I just wanted to say that I love your stories and that it brings me comfort, too:))

I Knew, Sweetheart

A/N: I'm so sorry this is so fucking looonngg!! I just couldn't get it right and I ended up going for "better is more" in the hopes that it'll hide the god-awful writing. :( Anyways, please don't burn me at the stake. It's my first Price fic, and I've still not got his voice or character dialed in. Summary: Reader is Price's gf, and while they've been together for a little while... sex hasn't come up. Nor the fact that the reader is a virgin!. Reader goes about bringing it up a little unconventionally, and things progress. T/W: virgin!reader, fem-reader, NS/FW 18+ ONLY, p-in-v sex, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that IRL), established relationship, a little bit of an age-difference?, cursing?, first-time anxiety?, aftercare, probably missed something else. proofreading is for people w/ friends of which I have none.

John Price set himself apart from most of the men that he often worked alongside when it came to matters of his personal life and the ways in which he operated. A lot of people would often make jokes, saying it was nothing more than his being an “old man” who couldn’t adjust to the newer ways of life. But fuck, he wasn’t that old when it came right down to it, and yes he liked going along with the traditional ways specifically when it came to relationships, at least when he had the chance to. He’d been a lot younger at one point, not seeing how detrimental his actions could’ve been affecting the women he associated with or spent a few hours in bed with just to leave without another word sent their way.

Captain Price knew he’d made many mistakes when the heart was involved. He threw away a lot of advice he’d been given growing up -some good and some bad- all because he thought he knew better or had enough intelligence to figure it out as he went. Much of that changed when he started realizing that he wasn’t fulfilled in the slightest. For a few years, he was bitter over the emptiness. Not understanding where it came from or how the fuck he could get rid of it. Unraveling layer after layer like a frayed pair of jeans, John kept questioning how he’d come so far just to be that alone. Praying his mistakes hadn’t destroyed his chances of finding a little sliver of humanity outside of his work to motivate him. Keep him sane in the most bitter of hours, and soft when everything and everyone else around him kept adding brick after brick into never-ending, emotionless walls.

Then you showed up out of nowhere, sitting on a barstool in one of the pubs he frequented when he had some time away from his work. Close to home and nowhere near busy enough to call a bar or club; John immediately thought you looked like you’d taken a wrong turn and wound up in an old man’s hangout. It took him a few hours of watching out of the corner of his eye to finally weigh the options of being shot down, or possibly making something out of a whole lot of nothing. His offering to buy you a drink led to taking a few puffs off of his cigar outside. From there he learned just about everything about you within the first few weeks of seeing you or calling here and there.

You liked to talk, a lot. Something John was thankful for since he developed a bad habit of just staring at your pretty face instead of listening like he knew too. Fuck it made him feel ten years younger. And that was something else that made your relationship feel unusual to the Captain. More than six years in age difference didn’t sound all that significant on paper. Yet it was more interesting than either of you thought it would be initially. Aside from just simple pop culture references and enjoyment of music and other low-stakes things, your lives were on different paces. John was stable… at least as stable as his work allowed for. While you’d finally got the job you’d been dreaming of, and hadn’t been working for a full year when you met him. Everything all together challenged John, and you as well, with figuring out what you wanted from each other. How you planned -or wanted to- go about making that happen. And if being serious was something that you shared an interest in.

A few months of going on dates and John walking you home was traded for him sharing half the dresser drawers in his bedroom with you. He was gone nearly all of the time, which put a damper on things but he liked having peace of mind that you were safe and in his home. Besides, it was a short drive from his house to your work and you could stop paying half your paychecks on rent and start saving it up for anything you really wanted. At least… anything John hadn’t already bought or given you. Well… there was one thing John hadn’t given you. And it began gnawing at your mind harder and harder every time he went away for a mission and came home without the slightest inclination to do more than give you a kiss.

John Price still hadn’t asked or hinted at wanting to have sex with you.

At first, you thought it was refreshing. Seeing a man old enough and patient to understand that sex wasn’t just given but earned. Yet every time you thought there would be a moment after a date or a ‘welcome home reunion’ where he’d finally bring up the topic, your expectations fell short. Plenty of excuses floated around your brain, including the more rational ones: he was just very respectful. While others were much more self-conscious and saddening: he was getting it somewhere else, or he could see that you weren’t experienced. The age-old struggle of being a virgin past the age of eighteen.

Too old for half the population, and far too young and inexperienced for the others. Sheltered didn’t describe you. You had toys and knew how to give head as well as having been on the receiving end. But going “all the way” eluded you by some miracle or curse. Looking at John in comparison to yourself was just as attractive as it was intimidating. You knew better than to think he didn’t know his way around the bedroom. He was just too smooth. Far beyond any man, you attempted a relationship previously. You wanted to think he respected you, but at the same time, waiting for much longer for him to make a move just felt like another eternity you lacked the patience and confidence to endure. So after a long night of overthinking and wondering how you could even go about bringing it up, you made a decision that when he got back home from his latest mission, you’d be the one to bring it up.

God your hands were sweating. He was supposed to have been home two hours ago and there was still no sign of his truck in the driveway or a single message from him on the phone you had gripped between your damp palms. Everything had been just fine all day, until the sun began to set over the hillside in the backyard, leaving you less than six hours away from John coming through the door. Worried didn’t even begin to explain how your stomach was tied in knots with a low burning fire in your throat. John had been nothing short of perfect -save for being gone so often- and you knew there wasn’t a single reason for you to be so overwhelmed at the mere thought of being an adult and asking him to have sex with you. Of course… You made up your mind to omit that you’d never done it before and just hoped the Captain would be too preoccupied with something else to notice.

Noticing the details quickly got turned around on you when the front door creaked open on its hinges and you hadn’t the slightest clue that John was standing halfway through the threshold with bags slung over his back and a small look of curiosity on his face. His pretty little thing, sitting on the couch with her arms wrapped around her bent knees and a deep stare somewhere far away from the both of them. He had to admit it wasn’t the first time he had caught you sitting with your eyes “comfortable” as you liked to call it; however, it was the first time he’d seen you wearing something quite that lacy for no damn good reason before.

Some kind of black, strappy, and frilly little number. It hardly left anything to the imagination, and John had to force himself not to go into deep thought about how you’d even got into the thing without instructions. It made your figure that much more eye-catching, and after staring at nothing but rain and mud for two weeks you were a sight for sore eyes. Even a Captain had to admit his biggest weaknesses to overcome himself and improve, but he wasn’t sure in that second if he could ever overcome -much less forget- how divine you looked. Honestly, he didn’t even know you owned it to begin with. But by the way, you kept spinning your phone in your hand, he had the vague gut feeling that you had something on your mind. A little more than dinner or fussing over the possible injuries he could’ve sustained while gone.

“Waiting on someone?” He asked lowly, trying his best not to startle you too much. Right away your eyes locked on his and widened. Almost like a little rabbit cornered by a fox and no hole to scurry into. He watched a flash of sudden panic overtake you and how quickly you reached for one of the throw blankets at the end of the couch to hide behind. Price chewed his tongue, forcing himself not to smirk at you at the moment. Wanting so badly to tease you a little bit for looking so sexy in that bodysuit, but acting nothing short of the little shy church girl getting kissed on the cheek for the first time.

“J-John,” Your voice sputters on his name a bit, forcing a smile to his face. He couldn’t help it after being away for this long without the chance to hear you even over the phone for a few minutes. “You’re home a little late.”

He nods, guilty. “Delayed flight. Weather kept us from movin’ out on time.”

Careful, he dropped his bags off at the front door without the slightest concern about how long they’d sit there. More important things were swirling around in his head. Trying to decipher if you were planning something and just backed out, or if you just needed a little bit of coaxing to not be so shy. Hostage negotiation wasn’t something he thought would ever come in handy when it came to interacting with you, yet John found himself rounding around the chairs on the other side of the living room from you, and planning each step he made to ensure he didn’t spook you. That lingerie wasn’t for nothing, and he desperately needed to know what you planned on doing with it.

He licked his lips, taking a steadying breath. “What’s under the blanket, sweetheart?”

You swallowed thickly, “N-nothing… I thought - I hoped it’d look nice,” Fumbling pathetically for an excuse, you finally spit one out all under the very soft and lightly amused eyes of one John Price. “It doesn’t fit.” The second it left your lips, you internally cursed yourself.

John’s eyebrows raised, instantly grabbing onto that loose thread and pulling on it. “I’m sure you’re wrong about that…” He came closer, standing just in front of you on the couch with his hands on his hips. “Come on, why don’t you let me have a look? I’ll give you a second opinion.” His words made your heart stutter, and you weakly shook your head in response.

“I should just return it.” You mutter, scooting over to the side of him and attempting to sneak off with your protective blanket.

You’re not even close to getting away from John when he chuckles, one arm curling around your shoulders and the other getting a firm grip on the material you’re hiding under. Naturally, you don’t exactly fight to get away. But a furious blush breaks out over your cheeks and neck, feeling the preverbal trap tightened around your throat. He’s turning around and sitting down on the couch with a nonnegotiable silent order for you to take a seat straddling his lap. That alone is enough to drive you up a wall with anxious feelings. Not that you’d never sat on his lap before -actually it was quite common- but under these circumstances, there was a lot more than just a little bit of heat passing between the both of you. Very slowly, John found the edge of the blanket and slipped a hand under, searching out for your skin and eventually landing on a little bit of the lacy material stretching in a high cut over your hip. You can actually see his eyes darken, tracing along the hemline and mentally picturing what was under his fingers. Touch alone was making you squirm, avoiding eye contact and trying to keep quiet so as not to embarrass yourself even more than you already felt.

“Oh, sweetheart… fits like a fuckin’ glove.” He whispers lowly, hand palming your asscheek and toying with the thin little string that disappeared into the cleft.

“It’d be a shame for you to get all dressed up… go through all this trouble… then not let me see your hard work.” His voice lulled slow and steady, swaying your fears just enough for you to feel your head nod up and down a couple of times before letting the blanket fall off your shoulders and pool on Price’s lap. The front of the bodysuit had been well-hidden up until now, with you sitting so lady-like in his lap. But the thin straps just crossing around your tits and holding them up without a single stitch of material covering them totally, John thought he’d been shot right through the chest. Between the innocent look in your eyes, and that damned outfit making you appear about as sinful as hell, he couldn’t keep from letting out a low growl and squeezing your ass just hard enough to make you gasp.

“This is what you were trying to hide?” His breathlessness couldn’t be masked, nor could the frequent shift in his eyes between your practically bare chest and eyes. John chuckled, hands drifting towards your hips and up to rest on each side of your ribs. Pushing your tits together just a little bit, almost bewitched by the sight of you like that on his lap. “Oh, you’re such a pretty girl…” He muttered, almost to himself.

Shifting in his lap, you tried to keep your growing arousal and nervousness under control. Each touch set you on fire, and with John moving this slow you couldn’t be sure you’d live long enough to see another day. It was too good feeling a man actually appreciated a woman in front of him. Not just finding the small bits and pieces he preferred and overlooking the rest. You knew being nervous was natural, but the more John rubbed and soothed, it was getting harder and harder not to whine or ask him for just a little bit more to satiate you. Right away, John’s eyes darted up to you, and something you couldn’t quite describe flashed through his eyes just long enough for him to lip his lips and sit up a little straighter, pulling you to sit straddling just one of his thighs.

“I think I know what you want, sweetheart.” He smiled so damn affectionately that it made your heart jump. “But just so I know… why don’t you go ahead and tell me, that way I don’t miss anything. I don’t like to disappoint.” Toying with the zipper of his sweater, you suck in a nervous breath to steady your nerves.

“I want you to, have sex with me.” You hardly whisper the second part, still drawing your own attention towards anything minute that could serve as a focal point with your body shaking so badly.

“Hmm…” His thoughtful hum sends shivers up your spine, and the feeling of his hands massaging your hips makes it hard to breathe. “So I was right,” A smile crosses his face. “Well then, how about you go ahead and take care of this.” He growls a little, his fingers slowly tracing over the barely-there strip of fabric covering your core, already soaking wet with your arousal. Your little moan slips out before you can even try to cover your mouth, and John’s fingers slip away like he was purposefully trying to be mean and deny you a taste of relief.

“John, please…” You whimper, hands resting on his shoulders hoping he’ll take mercy on you.

He just shifts down to rest against the couch a little more and bounces his knee a few times, sending jolts of extreme sensation right up your clit into your lower stomach. You didn’t get it at first… what he wanted you to do. But now you did, and John almost grinned when he saw the realization, followed by the shy look you gave him. Encouragement was needed, and he was more than happy to deliver. Slowly rocking your hips back and forth along his pants, purposefully having settled you on the side that his thigh-holster was strapped to, adding two extra ridges that instantly began working to overstimulate you. It was too good, and not enough. Pushing your inhibitions just a little further out of focus and forcing you to really focus on how nothing more than his thigh was getting you to a release quicker than any toy or trick you’d tried on yourself. Impeccable alone, it was his low voice right in your ear that made everything outside of John Price holding you on his lap disappear.

“Doin’ so good, sweetheart…”

“Making me feel bad for not helping sooner… If I would’ve known how needy you were.”

“That’s it, love. Keep going, want you to let go. Right on my lap, then I’ll take care of you.”

His lips suffocated your moans and whimpers, swallowing each little pleasure and claiming it as his own. John hadn’t taken his time like this in years, but damn it was special seeing you -his pretty little thing- so needy and whining his name. So sensitive to the texture of his cargos that he was actually wondering if you could withstand something more… purposeful. God, he hoped you could. He wanted to tase you so bad after feeling just how wet you were. Fuck, even the dark khaki color of his pants was getting darker with each little jerk and grind of your hips. Thighs twitching and clenching around him like you couldn’t get the right angle, and were slowly getting more pathetically and innocently frustrated. He needed you hungry though… wanted to ensure that this was done properly. And if it meant withholding from you just enough to make sure you were desperate, he’d bite back every urge he had to give you everything right away.

John knew right away that you were a virgin. Either by just his ability to read people or by the way that you didn’t particularly use sex appeal to draw him in right when you first met. You weren’t innocent of how you looked though, and always dressed and acted much to the benefit of being seen as the valuable woman Price always believed you to be. Yet it didn’t escape his curiosity as to how you’d been able to slip through the grasps of so many disrespectful and predatory men who would’ve done anything to have taken their chance at you. Fuck, he was thankful beyond belief. He hated thinking that you could’ve needed to experience pain or discomfort at any point… but he never asked you simply out of respect and the knowledge that at some point the topic would come up. Only, it didn’t come to fruition quite like he expected. In fact, he never imagined that you’d had your first orgasm with him riding his thigh while sitting on the couch in his house. He wouldn’t change it for a goddamn thing, though.

In the moment, he’d wanted nothing more than to hear you. After hearing so many little whines and pleas for his help, he knew you’d sound so beautiful. But his own intentions fell to desire when he crashed his lips to yours, taking those cries of pleasure for himself. There would be plenty more to come for him to bask in the sound of. The first one though? He needed it. It was his to taste and keep forever. Alongside the taste of your pleasure, he relished in your shaking legs and the harsh bite of your nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to feel through two shirts. He felt your desperation just as deeply as his own, and while his cock straining against his zipper was not totally lost to his attention, John could easily stave off his own needs to make sure you were satiated just as thoroughly as deserved for coming on his pants like the good little things you always were.

“Good girl… You did so good for me, sweetheart.” His rough voice rumbled against your ear as his kissed you softly.

Petting your hair and rubbing his other hand down your quivering thigh. As much as he wanted to keep you right here and not disturb your come-down, he wanted you in bed. Needed to see you laid out like he pictured when jerking his cock after weeks of pent-up stress needed a release. Fuck he wanted to take you slow in his bed and wake up in the morning with you wrapped around him and the smell of sex on the sheets. Before you could really even catch your breath, John had you spread out on the bed with him staring down at you almost astonished. You were just as affected, seeing the heavy outline of his dick parallel to his zipper and ending just at his belt. His eyes caught your lingering, and he chuckled, biting his tongue with his back teeth before squeezing himself and shrugging like it wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever seen him do. The little gasp you let out only gave him that much more confidence to keep teasing you as much as he’d been.

Slowly, painfully, stripping off one piece of clothing at a time and letting it drop to the floor. Eyes locked on yours like he was getting off to how you reacted to each little inch of skin that was bared to you. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he enjoyed all of the attention on him. When in reality, he was just mesmerized by how in awe you were of him, looking like a war-torn soldier with his scars and hardened body. You were holding your breath for the moment he pushed his underwear down off his hips, standing downright predatory with his fist tight around the base of his thick and glistening cock. If you ever had a moment of hesitation about doing this with John, they dissolved in that single moment. Because your next movement was to reach your hands out, wiggling your fingers for him to come closer.

“What would you like?” He asks, coming to stand at the foot of the bed just out of your reach.

“You.” You answer a little plainly, making him chuckle.

“Not quite specific enough, sweetheart.” His eyes drop to your body hugged in that black outfit and he bites at his cheek. “But as much as I love you in that, I’d like to see you take it off.” A very easy request. Had it not been for your inability to reach the little snap at the back that kept you tied into all of the lace and straps. So, you very politely raised up and sat on your knees with your back to John and gave him the sweetest look you could manage.

“Give me hand, Captain?”

He nearly ripped the fucking thing off.

The moment he had your seduction tactic of clothing balled up in his fist, he felt the first little surge of his common sense holding him back a little bit. Base instinct screamed for him to sink into you as quickly as possible. But feeling your hands rub over his chest and your shy little kisses to his neck reminded him of circumstance. Pinned against your belly, his cock twitched in response to your teeth grazing accidentally over his collarbone. You were about to whisper an apology when John wrapped a hand around your throat to tilt your head up and suck hard just under your jaw. He liked when you did that… The thought gave you a little bolt of satisfaction. One that progressed into your hands sliding down his stomach until your fingers curled around his thick shaft, earning a warning sound of a moan deep in his chest.

“So fuckin’ soft…” He murmured against your shoulder, kissing it hotly and slowly rocking his hips against your hands. Teasing himself. Edging closer to try and raise a little bit of resistance so he wouldn’t spill his load on the bed long before he was damn well ready. Your silky little hands spreading his arousal over his length only lasted for a few minutes before John was pulling you away with heaving breaths and a flush breaking out over his cheeks.

“Too much?” You ask a little giggly when he lays you back and crawls up to kneel between your spread legs.

His reaction is one of raised eyebrows and a devilish kind of smile that makes you feel like you just made a little too accurate of a joke to be laughing. John gives you a little warning ‘tsk tsk’, shaking his head like he could try and hide the lust and affection swirling in his dark eyes at the sight of you giggling, and all spread out for him like a five-course meal the Queen of England couldn’t afford to buy. A wiser man might’ve believed himself worthy of you, enough that his dirty hands could touch you and try to give you pleasure in the way they assumed to know best. Yet John leaned over you with the knowledge that he was one of the most unworthy men on the planet, and you had so much grace and love inside of you that it didn’t matter. One little touch and you could cleanse him of every blood stain he’d not been able to clean or sinful act of revenge he couldn’t resist committing. Above all else, you’d decided in all your innocence of the world that you trusted him with your body as much as you’d already handed over your heart and mind.

John kissed you. Hard. With everything he had to offer in return for the invaluable

With that, he’s, hauling you up against him. He wants you laying right on top of him so he can sleep soundly with you right against him. He’s very quick to give you more praise and ask again if you’re feeling okay mentally and physically. You mention feeling just a little insecure, despite all of his very purposeful care throughout the whole process, but Price won’t have it.

Right away he’s kissing you softly, hands rubbing over your back and butt affectionately. Letting you know just how special he feels that you trusted him, as well as just how lucky he was to find someone like you in the first place. Holding the back of your head and gently cradling you against his lips; Tongue licking into your mouth and groaning softly when you mirror his movements, even going far enough to nip at his tongue. Using that same little hint of him enjoying your teeth on him. Just like before, you’re met with another warning sound of a growl, and John is pulling back and moving his head between your legs with a careful watch on your reaction.

“Can’t wait any longer, sweetheart.” He kissed your inner thigh sweetly. “Please let me taste your sweet little pussy.”

His words shock your body, and your head falls back with the little bit of erotic pleads overwhelming you. God, it was making you drip onto the sheets feeling him so close yet waiting for your answer. Pathetically, you couldn’t get the word ‘yes’ out of your mouth for a few long minutes. Just enough time for him to lovingly suck bruises onto your inner thighs and mean you scream out his name, squirming under his hands to try and get some real relief.

John takes pity on you, stopping long enough to let you catch your breath. “Come on pretty girl. Just say the word… I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good.”

“Yes, yes, yes… please. I need more!” Your airy pleas fall like angel’s trumpets on his ears, as his mouth descends hungrily onto your cunt.

Licking through your slick folds and growling your own name back against your core with the sweet and alkaline flavor. Your hips buck up and you cry out, feeling his tongue lash over your clit for the first time and right away he’s got one forearm over your hips to hold them steady with the other hand held tight with his fingers intertwined with yours. His mustache tickles against your skin and you can feel him resting his head against your thigh, almost like he’s getting comfortable for an extended stay with his tongue in your cunt.

Another orgasm is ripped from you without warning less than ten minutes into John’s unyielding assault on your sensitive clit. And it’s this time that John ensures your thighs can’t wrap around his head for the sole purpose of hearing your loud and raw scream of his name. Blissed out, and shaking once again, John smiles against your pussy; Lapping up any remaining release he’d missed mere seconds before and feeling the dull pressure of your heels digging into his back.

“God, you’re so good for me sweetheart,” His praise blows cool air over your folds and you jerk a little, whining when you feel his lips return back down to you. Slowly, teasingly, he began all over again just as he did the first time.

It takes a couple seconds for you to realize he doesn’t plan on stopping. But when you do, crying for him to stop when he begins using his thumb to tease your clit while his tongue fucks slowly in and out of your clenching hole. John almost laughs, darkly and amused with your little cries and moans. Feeding off of your pleasure just to give it right back to you in the direct motivation of making you come on his tongue and fingers this time.

“F-fuck - John! Sh-shit,” Your stuttered voice falls into an unabashed groan when he teases his finger at your entrance, and slowly slides it deep into your fluttering pussy, squeezing around it tightly. Hungry for more, and weeping with each small curl of the digit hitting on your upper wall.

Your eyes roll back, and you attempt to push John’s head back to try and ease the stimulation, just to feel his hand holding you back and in place. It’s maddening, feeling so good that it’s almost bringing tears to your eyes, having already come twice -more than you typically gave yourself- and no sign of him letting you escape.

God, John was pushing you to the boundary of everything you knew about your own body, as well as giving you the first, raw, experience of just how good sex could be. Lifting your head up just to try and get a small glance at him, you catch the sight of his eyes, fiery and intense looking right back up at you with your own come soaking his mustache and the entire lower half of his handsome face. You clench around his digit again, being pushed that much closer to the edge just at the visual alone.

Your third release came as quickly as the first two, this time resulting in the delicious stretch of John’s three fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, literally slurping up your release; Almost dragging it out of you like he couldn’t stand the thought of not swallowing every drop. He whispered your name so gently as he came to rest on his forearms overtop of you, kissing your forehead with his wet lips and feeling his hair stick against your sweaty forehead.

“Sweetheart…” his tone had softened to the smallest whisper you’d ever heard from him. “Are you sure you want this? We can stop here if you’d like.”

Opening your eyes to see his handsome face and the slight of his hair in a total mess, you knew getting away with not mentioning your lack of experience was impossible. Your John… wasn’t nearly as unobservant as you’d wanted him to be. Without more than a tired little smile, you nodded. Raising your head weakly just far enough to kiss him gently, tasting yourself against your lips and feeling the slight quiver of his breath.

“Please, I want this. I want you John.”

Initially, no matter how much he’d taken care to prep you there was still a deep stretch as his thick cock began slowly entering you. Sweetly, he worked you through each little discomfort, giving you kiss after kiss and running his hands through your hair. Distracting from the little sting that had never been present with your toys, and praising you until his hips pressed flush against yours.

“Fuucckkk yes,” Price couldn’t hold back the loud groan as he looked down to see your pretty little cunt taking every last inch of his dick and squeezing so hard he could barely think straight.

“Takin’ my cock so good… Such a pretty girl, my good little thing…” His murmurs and curses slowly devolved the further you progressed.

Your body slowly adjusted to the intrusion and the gentle thrusts John made the moment you began squirming and pleading with him to move through your little hiccups. The unusual feeling of John moving inside of you slowly began to coax moans and praise from your mouth every time the crown of his cock rubbed deep against a swollen, textured, spot inside of you that built up pressure so quickly that you needed to wrap your legs around his hips to keep them from shaking uncontrollably. Each stroke got harder and harder, with John eventually pounding his cock deep inside of you, moaning and using one arm to wrap around your waist to hold your lower body still so he could bring both of you closer.

“J-John…” Your voice jolted with each snap of his hips as you tried to warn him.

Feeling that familiar yet almost destructive power of another climax rushing through your lower body. Convinced you didn’t have enough left in you to come again, you felt tears pricking your eyes, overwhelmed with immense pleasure skyrocketing you towards a final orgasm you kept denying until John’s fingers reached between you and expertly began rubbing tight circles around your clit, violently tossing you into whited-out vision, and muted hearing.

Above you, John found his own release and shared it at the same time as yours. Fisting the bedsheets to keep from grabbing ahold of you too tightly and bruising you; his cock getting squeezed so tightly from your climax that it was almost painful to stay seated inside of you. With so little arm strength left, he fell nearly full-weight on top of you and only propped himself up by his elbows to keep from suffocating you.

Utterly wrecked, and feeling more than you’d ever experienced more than you’d felt in your life, it took minutes before you could open your eyes and actually have enough of the mental capacity to realize that John was gently stroking your head, kissing your forehead and your nose, and holding you tightly to him as the strong muscle jerks and twitches in your body began to die out.

“You here with me?” Low and comforting, you smile dazedly with your eyes heavy and trying to focus on him.

You merely nod your head yes and give what you assumed was a ‘mhmmm’ but might’ve sounded more like a small animal being choked or drowned. Naturally, John’s lips spread into a very happy and amused smile, cupping your cheek with his hand and pressing a kiss to your lips softly.

“Come on, sweetheart…” John whispered, pulling your head up to his chest and gently easing himself out of you with a low sigh.

You’re once again lifted up and whisked away, this time, into the bathroom just off to the side of the bedroom where John carefully sits you down on the edge of the bathtub and starts running hot water with the lights dimmed low. Certain he’s got everything for your bath within your reach and the water is high enough for you to really sink down into in and relax, he gives you a soft kiss and promises to return after just a couple minutes.

He returns before you even work up the desire to wash your hair, and immediately takes over the task of getting you cleaned up himself. In between the lulls of soaps, and conditioners, John will pose quiet questions, asking how you’re feeling and wanting to know if there was anything that hurt you physically or was bothering you mentally. His care was intense and very personal, giving you much more confidence and comfort after having such a draining experience. Of course, you felt fantastic throughout, but when he asked if you were tired, there was a feeling that he already knew you were and expected you to tell him how he could best support you.

Other than letting your head rest against his chest. Leaving not one inch of your body neglected, from your face to your feet. Throughout the process you watch through sleepy eyes, seeing a very peaceful sort of look on his face while soaping you up and helping you rinse off and step out of the slippery bathtub into a warm towel you could only assume he’d thrown in the dryer just for your comfort.

Holding the towel around yourself, you peck him on the lips and smile, too tired to really say anything of real value. However, you’re certain John understands by the way his arms wrap you up and hold you tight to his bare chest while running his fingers through your wet hair, helping get out some of the little tangles your conditioner couldn’t quite take care of alone.

“I love you, John. More than anything.”

He drops a kiss on top of your head, rocking your weights back and forth in the dimmed light of the bathroom. Admiring your little form in the darkened silhouette of his much larger one.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

“You’re my best friend.”

He chuckles, finding that so very endearing.

“You’re mine too.”

yeah... the "you're my best friend" part, me and my husband do that <3 so.... that's a thing.

[emeryhiro]

My thoughts on The Book Of Carol Episode 1

-Spoiler-free edition-

I know that some information about what was discussed during the panel has already been posted online, but I personally will try my best to refrain from posting about it since that was what was requested before the episode showing, and the panel.

Setting the tone for the rest of season 2

Firstly, Episode 1 immediately starts the season with huge emotional implications, primarily focusing on Carol and her current mindset. I truly believe that if they keep at this pace, we will have Daryl and Carol on an even field within the spinoff by the end of season 2.

Over the seasons of the main show, we got the chance to see so many layers of Carol, but since the screen time on that show had to be shared with so many other characters, we never got to go as far into Carol's mindset as we wanted to. But after watching this episode, I now know beyond a doubt that Melissa has the talent and Carol has the depth to be a brilliant leading character. She can fill an entire episode with her storyline, and there would not be a dull moment; on the contrary, during the showing, I constantly had chills because of the absolute power of Melissa's performance.

Storyline split ratio

As Norman has already said, The Book Of Carol will not be an exact 50/50 split between Daryl and Carol. There will naturally be slightly more of a focus on Carol, which I found was already so evident in Episode 1. The heavier focus on Carol was done beautifully, and like I said earlier Melissa fulfilled the role of a leading character so perfectly that I couldn't help but be a little disappointed whenever I saw that a scene had changed away from her.

Carol's mindset

Carol's mindset and emotional state had me in a chokehold this episode; I don't think there was a single scene between Carol & Ash that didn't bring me to tears or leave me with chills. As Melissa mentioned in her behind-the-scenes interview for Daryl Dixon episode 6, Carol's journey is about her mindset and how she needs to know that her friend is okay.

This theme is already heavily touched on in episode one and delivered in a way that brought me to tears repeatedly. They utilised a few vital flashbacks and some moments where we find Carol alone, going through some powerful emotional moments that opened old wounds and addressed certain things that were never fully resolved on the main show.

One of the most heartbreaking moments we see of Carol alone revolves around a song that Carol sings along with (to herself); even though the song itself has very simple lyrics, I immediately thought that it fully explains why Carol is prepared to do anything to get Daryl back.

Even before watching the episode, we knew that Carol would do anything for the ones she loves, but this current situation with Daryl truly asks more from her than anything she has ever done before. Still, there is no hesitation within her about how many lines she is willing to cross to find him again.

In all this Carol also showed some immense growth, especially in how she handled guilt and loss compared to her actions and mindset in season 10.

Daryl's change

This is mentioned in the new season's synopsis, so I no longer classify it as a spoiler. The synopsis stated that "Daryl struggles with his decision to stay in France" which appeared to be very true to me in episode 1.

I saw a colder, more aggressive, and mentally exhausted side to Daryl, which is evident in how he handles all his conversations with people from the Nest and how there seems to always be an slight undertone of resentment in his words that he is trying to hide.

Additionally, while watching season 1 of Daryl Dixon, I noticed that the longer Daryl is away from Carol, the more he regresses into his trauma. It's like all progress is being lost, and he's slowly turning back to his old ways, not standing up for himself and hiding in Merl's shadow.

Additional quick takeaways:

Ash is an angel and must be protected

Genet looked scary and really creeped me out at one point, which was really thrilling and showed the possibility of a really interesting villain for the season 2 arc

It appears that (according to Norman) we'll be getting more screen time with some of the other characters, like Sylvie and Losang

Some of the nest members' scenes evoked a sense of impending doom and eerieness, which suggests that there may be more to the Nest than meets the eye, with perhaps something sinister hiding within it.

This episode had gorgeous cinematography, which I personally liked more than season 1's, and I found that it felt richer too.

Episode 1 of TBOC is now, by far, my favourite episode from any of the spinoffs. It shows that when a show about Daryl and Carol is true to its characters, it becomes a natural success and a beautiful piece of the story.

Melissa's voice and influence are clear in how Carol's story is told in this episode. And Melissa herself seemed very proud of the work that had been done for season 2.

Norman teased one of his favourite upcoming scenes, which is of Daryl and Carol bickering like an old married couple, and Melissa teased about her favourite location where they slept and woke up surrounded by horses (I'm just imagining Norman waking up and immediately being terrified)

Melissa was absolutely glowing in person and exceeded any and every expectation that I may have had of her

Conclusion and final thoughts

If episode one is a good example on which to base my opinion, then I'd say that season 2 looks very promising, with the very likely possibility of surpassing the main series in ranking as my favourite show.

It has planted seeds to potentially resolve many of Caryl/Daryl's storylines that were left unresolved in the main series, in a way that's true to who Carol and Daryl are and how even we, as viewers, envisioned it should be.

And in Melissa's words from the panel:

"12 years of The Walking Dead, there was a lot unsaid... we picked some of the core issues and built on that"

All I gotta say to wrap this up is get excited!! The future of Caryl is looking bright!

~~~~

I have also written a full spoiler version of my thoughts, which goes into a further in-depth analysis of specific moments and their significance. However, I will post that once season 2, episode 1, is officially released in September.

[wonderingsoftly]

Not Too Big

something i've been playing with that i like...wanted to populate the blog with a little quick, fluffy wg fic...just a boyfriend and girlfriend realizing they want him even bigger

no major warnings, just a lot of hugging and squeezing and admiring

---

Theo gorged desperately on the pizzas he bought, chewing loudly and grabbing wildly at the next piece.

He had to get bigger. His mind screamed that it was a matter of keeping his beloved girlfriend, Charlotte, by his side.

There was no indication that she was unhappy, in fact she and him seemed to enjoy every minute together.

But…she was gone on a business trip for the next two weeks. He achingly remembered the way she ran her hand through his short blond hair and placed a kiss on his lips. She promised she would be back before he knew it.

He constantly checked her social media, staring at her pictures of the two of them, then looking at her latest posts--where his thoughts became prickly and relentless.

It was that latest picture.

Her smile was big and cordial as she stood with a big, fat man. Bigger than Theo was, and he far outsized Charlotte.

He was her coworker, and he had met him before, exchanging pleasantries. Theo had never been offended by him or anything, but every picture he saw of Charlotte with the man made him wind up tighter and tighter.

And then he snapped.

Theo was not a small man by any means, quite muscular and bulky himself, and he knew Charlotte liked him that way. He knew she liked big men, which was part of why they started dating in the first place.

They got on like a house on fire, immediately falling in love with each other and sharing hobbies and interests. Charlotte was kind and sweet and fun and endlessly attractive with beautiful, black, wavy hair and near-black eyes, deep and easy to get lost in.

He considered himself incredibly lucky to have landed her, and sometimes that translated into a bit of a need to do whatever he could to make sure she was happy. This wild train of thought was his latest attempt at this.

Though on the other hand, Charlotte was much of the same. She loved watching Theo show off his gains from the gym and would cook delicious meals after a strenuous workout. She praised him often and comforted him when he needed it. She encouraged him to reach his goals. She could rarely be seen without her hands on his skin in some way or another, always trying to be in physical contact with him.

And he…he couldn't bear to lose that.

So he had to get bigger. To his mind, it would be a surefire way to keep Charlotte around. More of him for her to touch and grab.

He ate even more furiously, his stomach starting to protest against his jeans.

He would load and bulk up tonight, cutting the rest tomorrow at the gym. He’d put these calories to work and grow.

Though…a small part of his mind didn't mind if his belly pooched out or if his muscles were padded with a nice layer of fat. It would only make him look bigger, give him more leverage to lift heavier and heavier weights, and in turn make him even bigger.

He imagined Charlotte's eyes looking him all over as she returned to him, his arms and chest pumped and heavy.

Some might call this a dirty bulk, but…bulk was bulk to Theo at this moment in time. He was desperate to fight against his spiral, and the only solution that seemed to stop his brain was preparing calories and energy to change into gains.

He would sleep soundly once the pizza was gone, knowing he’d be big for Charlotte.

***

The day of Charlotte's return arrived, and Theo struggled to button the nice shirt he had bought a few months ago. His stomach firmly fought against the buttons with every closure he managed.

He exhaled long, trying to flatten his torso enough to close up the shirt. With some effort, he managed, but in the mirror it was evidently clear he was one sudden movement away from popping the buttons off.

Perhaps his dirty bulking worked too well.

Even his arms strained in the short sleeves, the lack of stretch emphasizing their size.

He heard the doorknob start to turn and he rushed out to the living room, the shirt’s buttons creaking slightly.

He got into place, eagerly watching as Charlotte walked in, her smile wide and relieved.

“Theo…” she said happily, like music to Theo’s ears.

He rushed to hug her, sighing happily as he felt her arms wrap around and squeeze his torso.

Where she belonged.

“You look good, Theo,” Charlotte murmured, rubbing his back.

Theo's stomach somersaulted at her touch and comment, and he felt vindicated. It had worked. She was happy.

“Thought I might…work hard to bulk up a little extra for when you got back,” he admitted. “It’s surprising how much I could do in two weeks.”

“Aw, for me?” Charlotte giggled, looking up at Theo. Her cheeks were flushed pink and she gave his side a squeeze.

“Always for you.”

They hugged close again, breathing slowly and happily.

All was well again. Or so Theo thought.

“I…wanted to talk to you…a little about this, actually,” Charlotte said reluctantly, patting his stomach and then rubbing his arm.

Theo's heart dropped, immediately thinking of the worst case scenario. Her return had been amazing, what could she mean?

“Nothing bad, really!” Charlotte gasped, sensing Theo's fear. “But I just…I mean, I was thinking about it while I was gone and how you know I like how big you are…”

Theo looked at Charlotte curiously, his fear starting to dissipate a bit. She was blushing dark now, looking at her hands as she wrung them together.

“I kept thinking of you the whole trip…and how I…I’ve been wondering just how big you want to get? And if maybe…I don't know, I’m sorry–”

“Do you like this? The muscle and…the little extra?” Theo asked quietly, gesturing at himself.

“I love the muscle, but Theo…seeing you stretching this shirt–you’ve only worn it once before, and it was almost a little loose.” Charlotte laughed nervously, pushing some hair behind her ear. “If your ‘little extra’ did that…I…”

Her pause sent a shiver through Theo.

She looked at him longingly. “I want so much more.”

Theo looked at Charlotte in shock. A slow smile crept across his lips, pulling her in a tight hug.

“I…got a little jealous seeing you in those pictures with…what's his name, the big guy… Paul?” He sighed.

Charlotte let out a sad little whine. “Oh, I’m so sorry, baby.”

“No, no, it's not your fault, but…I just…wanted to be the big guy you’re always next to. I…let myself get carried away in my thoughts and just wanted to be there in his place, so badly.”

Charlotte laughed, squeezing Theo’s middle.

Theo moaned out a sigh, relishing the way her arms wrapped around him. She could barely reach her arms all the way around him.

His thoughts wandered to future possibilities. What if her arms couldn't reach totally around him at all…? If there was so much of him she’d never get bored…to lay on him at night, comfortable and warm.

“So, so badly, Charlotte…” Theo moaned in a low voice, his thoughts putting him in a warm, longing haze.

She squeezed him again, rubbing her cheek on his chest, the fabric of his shirt pulled tight and smooth over him.

Charlotte pulled away, Theo placing his hands on her hips. She trailed her fingers up the straining buttons, picking at the little bunches of fabric where the shirt closed.

She smiled, tapping the top button with her finger, looking up at Theo.

Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were tantalizingly dark. Theo felt his own cheeks heat up as all of Charlotte's fingers now rested on the same button.

With a small pop, Charlotte skillfully pushed the button through the hole, and his shirt opened in slight relief.

He silently begged her to keep going.

Charlotte's fingers trailed down to the next button, doing the same. His shirt opened more and more eagerly with every undone button, revealing his soft skin.

She reached the final button, his pooching belly freed from the shirt.

Theo let out a sigh of relief, finally registering just how tight the shirt was.

She hummed appreciatively and ran her hands over his stomach, gently dragging her nails over his skin. She patted his stomach, making him jiggle slightly.

Theo chuckled, placing his hands on hers.

It seemed like he and Charlotte were on the same page.

“Would you…be okay with getting nice and big for me? Maybe…a little less gym time and a little more eating time with me?” She looked up at him with big, wide eyes.

Theo blushed, running his thumb over her cheek. “Something tells me you’ve given this some thought already.”

“Well…I had a lot of alone time at night. Missing you…and maybe sometimes I let my thoughts run away with me…”

“Let’s do it then. I'll make more time to eat whatever delicious stuff you cook up and then we can cuddle.”

“Um…” she started, her gaze falling nervously to his stomach.

Theo tilted his head curiously, wondering her next thought.

“I know I just unbuttoned you, but…I also…want to see you…” she paused, her voice trailing off.

“I want to see you pop the buttons off this shirt,” Charlotte quickly sputtered, her blush now reaching her ears.

Theo looked at her blankly for a moment, processing her request.

He began to belly laugh when it finally registered. He pulled her into another hug, feeling her wrap her arms around his torso under his shirt.

Her arms were cool and soothing and her cold hands sent goosebumps over his body.

“Let's make something to eat then. I'm probably only a few spoonfuls of something away from busting this shirt open, anyway.”

Charlotte responded with a low, pleased laugh, giving Theo another squeeze.

***

Theo looked at himself in the mirror hanging on their closet door, his sides actually outsizing the width of it. He bit his lip, shuffling a little uncomfortably as he placed his hands on his round, hanging belly.

He was big. Almost 450 pounds big. Bigger than he’d ever been. But it was as they had planned over two years ago. It was just…surprising to really observe himself.

He turned to the side, one hand still on the top of his belly and tracing his eyes along the sagging bottom line of his stomach. It hung almost completely over his waistline, making an apron over his hips. His pecs were now sagging breasts, connecting to his back rolls. His eyes came back up to his face, still framed by his short blond hair, but his cheeks round and full–his neck basically disappeared beneath his double chin.

Charlotte kept insisting that he was incredible. She praised his expanding waistline, all the while giving him third and fourth helpings of the decadent dinners she made almost every night.

“My arms too…” he said with a sigh, lifting and wobbling his massive, soft arms. What definition he once had was totally covered by fat. He gently squeezed his left arm with his other hand. Warm and wobbly…he gave it a gentle pat and made it shake.

“You can still move around! And really well!” he could hear Charlotte's sweet voice in his head, remembering when he asked about her thoughts on his weight so far after he had found he had outgrown his favorite shirt.

“You're in great shape,” he remembered her voice cooing as she gently rubbed her hands on his stomach, uncovered by the outgrown shirt. That would have been debated by almost anyone else, but from Charlotte's mouth, he treated it like gospel.

Oh, and he loved that feeling. Her cool hands on his always-warm skin. The way her dark eyes sparkled as she admired him, when he accepted the next serving of dinner she would offer him.

And she was right, he was still able to get around. While his walk had become a waddle, he still considered himself pretty strong, helping her around the apartment with the heavy lifting chores--under the couch, moving the tables, things like that. He would only rarely be out of breath, and he was as sweaty as he usually got when he used to regularly exert himself at the gym…

Though, admittedly Charlotte insisted he stay seated and just relax while she took care of him, especially after a big meal. She didn't want her enormous prize of a man to have to worry about what she called ‘little things.’

When he sat, he took up almost all of the couch, Charlotte often squeezing herself next to him and absently jiggling his rolls as they watched a movie or show and snacked. His huge legs spread to make room for his giant belly and he found himself resting his arms on it. He had to admit that he was making a good place to set bowls within reach to munch from.

He let out a short exhale as his legs were starting to tremble from the effort of standing in place and observing himself for so long, his breathing starting to become heavy. He waddled himself around a little, watching ripples shake his huge rolls and belly. It took a moment for the shaking to settle, and Theo took a deep, satisfied breath.

But…besides all that, the clothes were really the only problem, and he was often in the comfy sweats and roomy athletic wear she had bought for him.

He was happy to let her spoil him too. Rough days at work? Delicious food. Tons of snacks with movies. The belly rubs, the increased intimacy…

She had always been loving and sweet, but it seemed like lately she was always running her hands over him and having increasingly lingering hugs. He definitely noticed the times she gave his sides a long, jiggling squeeze, but…man, it felt so good.

She knew all the best places to grab and squish, and she knew how to make him feel like he waa a god. Her hands traveled over every roll and curve he developed, her eyes sparkled every time he stepped on the scale.

She's would lovingly rub his huge belly, gently slapping and wobbling him around. It felt so good, and he would moan happily as she played. And when they went to bed?

Theo smiled smugly at himself, thinking of how excited Charlotte got almost every night when she watched him wobble himself to bed and heavily land himself on the edge. The little pink and purple hickies all over his covered chest were evidence of such.

Everything he had been afraid of losing that one night Charlotte came home was nothing but a distant dream now. Charlotte was totally his and he was all hers.

And you know?

Maybe he actually wasn't that big. Sure, it was the biggest he had ever been, but his girlfriend loved him more than ever.

He grabbed his belly and gave it a shake up-and-down. It bounced and jiggled and he felt himself smile with surprising satisfaction.

And he couldn't deny he liked it too. He wasn't enormously big, but he liked being the biggest guy in the room now. The way everyone acknowledged when he entered, his girlfriend holding tight to his huge arm. Her affectionate belly pats when they talked to their friends. Doorways were smaller, seats struggled to contain him, and he eclipsed Charlotte with his huge body.

And it was fine. He wasn't too big. He could still walk, still go out with Charlotte–it would even be fine if he got a little bigger. She always found a way to help him fit through and into places. He wore his huge, fat body well and Charlotte loved it. What would a few more pounds be?

His sweet girlfriend would be back soon with bigger clothes and they could settle down for another nice meal. He was feeling especially hungry now too. Maybe she picked up a giant meal from his favorite barbecue place? He figured he would call her and put in a request if she had nothing else planned.

He smiled at himself in the mirror, his chubby face grinning back at him. He hefted his belly up again and let it drop, watching it jiggle.

“I’m not too big. I’ve still got room to grow,” he said to himself with a pleased smile.

[mymelodymia]

Daddys little girl Dad!Tony stark x baby!daughter!reader

Summary: you are tony starks baby girl <3

Warnings: nothing just fluff 🥰

A/N: my acc hasn't been getting much attention lately. I hope this gets as big as my fics used to be. Also im using the same way you met tony as in toddler years

+•°+*°•+

Being tony starks daughter had lots of benefits, but also lots of bad parts as well. But for now we're focusing on the good parts. Let's start at the beginning.

One day, mid (birth month) the door bell rang. Tony, the famous billionaire playboy, walked out of his garage and turned the corner. Given that the whole wall of the front door was glass, tony saw right through it.

No one was there. Only a small cardboard box, layered with a multi colored blanket. He stepped closer, Jarvis opening the door. He saw a baby looking like it was fresh out the womb.

You, had a envelope in your tiny hands. Tony bent down and took it from your grasp. And along with this note (and angel) came a bag. Which held a single bottle, three diapers, a white onesie, identical to the one you were wearing, and your birth certificate. Only his name was on the paper. You didn't even have an identity yet. Tony opened the letter and read it.

'Dear tony. Shes only 2 weeks old and driving me insane. I dont care what you do with her, whether you put her up for adoption i dont care what you do. But shes yours now, feel free to get a DNA test. Just get her the fuck away from me.'

"What a bitch" tony muttered under his breath, looking down at you, he couldn't help feel the need to take you in. You were his after all.

"Sir, if you do not want the child, we can send it to mr rhodes" Jarvis suggested, tony immediately turning him down "no, no dont do that"

He picked you up, and took your blanket as well, quickly he wrapped you in the small blanket.

He walked over to the couch, staring at you the whole way there.

You began to flutter your eyelids. Tony gasped for no reason at all, his heart began to race slightly. He was about to meet his daughter.

You opened your eyes, and they locked with tonys, you both just stared at each other for a while. Before you, the curious little baby, reached up as high as you could. Your fingers brushing his cheeks.

You cooed, making him smile, which made you smile. You let out a small happy noise. Before tony stood up, and walked toward the front door.

He grabbed the bag and headed upstairs to his bedroom, not taking his eyes off of you.

He sat down on his bed, that was three times his size. And set you down on the mattress. And turned on a movie on the plasma tv mounted to the wall.

After a few minutes, he had noticed you had completely soiled your diaper, he picked you up and put a towel on his dresser, after a few failed attempts, he successfully changed you.

He called happy and pepper, who came as fast as they could given that he called and said "hey so i just found out im a father, i need you to come quick, thanks bye" and hung up.

They both arrived at the same time, and after a small argument over his choice of words on the phone call. Tony sent them out to go get bottles, diapers, formula, etc.

And for the meantime, tony spent some time with you. Your large e/c eyes looking around on awe.

You were beautiful. (Still are) and tony made sure you knew that.

He felt quite stressed given that you did not have a name, and that he had to choose one. He would definitely be one of those guys who picks a name with a meaning.

Eventually, he settled for y/n y/m/n stark. Your first and middle names perfectly fitting in with your last. It had a nice ring to it.

After a moment your eyes began to droop. Tony took note of this and held you to his chest, patting you on the back (be careful tony)

He rocked you to sleep, and once you fell into this slumber, he whipped out his laptop. And after a few hours of online shopping and a couple thousand dollars, everything he needed to take care of you was on its way.

+•°+*°•+

The next few days, most of the packages were there. Including the crib. The past days he had been forced to put you in a laundry basket, that he stuffed had with his pillows. (The first time you fell in love with his scent)

It took both happy and tony to get it through the house. And after multiple arguments, being ended by you crying because they were loud. And pepper taking care of you in the meantime. five hours later the crib was officially in one piece.

Tony also bought a crib that was transparent on the sides so he could keep an eye on you in the living room, but sadly you were too small for that so they decided to save another 7 hours and not put that together now.

Once all of the packages had arrived, tony had happy took all of the packages to tonys bedroom. Then went home.

Tony put your crib right next to his bed, and in a corner he had the changing table, which doubled as a dresser, put in a corner next to a rocking chair for him to lull you to sleep.

He heard you whimper from across the room, he turned to the clock, and it read 10:48 pm.

He walked over to you as you started to cry. He immediately sprung into action and grabbed you, resting you on his chest patting your back.

"You must be hungry, my little y/n" (ahaha. Do you see the connection)

He walked downstairs to feed you. Once he was done with this task, he sat at the rocking chair and sung you a lullaby (or AC/DC in a soft tone 🤷‍♀️)

When you fell asleep, he decided he needed sleep to (for once) though it was quite early for him, he did need to sleep given that he now had you, and thought he needed some extra sleep.

+•°+*°•+

The next morning he was woken up at four in the morning by you screaming your head off. He jumped up (dad instincts already kicking in huh) tripping over his blanket that wrapped around his foot, looked at you. And could smell it before he could get there. Oof.

After he finished changing you, he walked downstairs cradling you in his arms, that engulfed your tiny body. Your head resting in the crook of his arm.

He fed you while sitting at the couch, he thought, might as well stay up. He'll probably just be woken up by you anyways 😆

You fell asleep in his arms not long after. And he swung his head back, closing his eyes. And fell asleep on accident. And a few hours later, he woke up to you once again, screaming your head off.

once your eyes fell upon his, you calmed down immediately. Making a small happy noise. Making him smile.

He had ordered some clothes for you online. And now that the baby carrier thingy was there, he could now bring you into public. He was nervous given that paparazzi follow his every move. But he didn't really care if they saw him with you, you were his.

He went out with just you in his arms, and came back with tons of bags full of clothing.

He then went ahead and put a car seat in place, along with a mirror so he could see you if he was driving. Which he wouldn't be doing for a while.

+•°+*°•+

He had took time off of stark Industries for a few months, so he now worked at home.

After two months of having your presence in tonys home, you were both inseparable. Tony couldn't do anything without you because he was hooked, and you couldn't do anything without him because you were only two months old.

The first time you sat up, he was so proud of you. Same for when you first rolled over, but his favorite achievement you had made so far has got to be when you first giggled 🤭

At seven months you began to crawl. (I know that's kind of early but i started crawling early and i know almost nothing about babies so..)

You had been sitting up, playing with tony when he scooted away from you, you gave him a look and leaned on your hands. You pushed you knees up and started army crawling to tony. Bouncing yourself with your arms.

He gasped and cheered you on. "Come on baby, come to daddy, aaaaahh, you got this sweetheart, come on" when you reached him he scooped you into his arms, smothering you with kisses.

Then his kisses became tickles, he pulled away from you and put his hand on your stomach and began to wiggle them all around.

You started giggling, which fell into deep baby belly laughter when he blew a giant raspberry right above your belly button.

You, only being seven months, couldn't do anything but wait for him to stop. Which he probably won't do anytime soon given that he loves your laughter 🥰

At 11 months old, tony went back to stark Industries. He had made a very large portion of his office dedicated to you.

Toys everywhere, there were a few books, he had that "transparent crib" in there as well. Which doubled as a playpen for you, mainly soft toys like stuffed animals and such were in there.

Many times pepper stopped a meeting mid way through, just to give you to tony. You had been screaming your head off but the second you were in tonys arms you calmed down immediately.

He would continue the meeting with you clung to him. Wrapping your arms around him, your head resting in the crook of his neck.

When you celebrated your first birthday, tony was having very mixed emotions, he loved you, and was so happy to see you made it this far. But he missed the days with his baby, and he wanted them back. He missed feeding you while you rested in the crook of his arm. Or rocking you to sleep while singing to you.

He is definitely the guy who throws magnificent parties that were long and big. But for his baby girls first birthday he only invited Rhody, pepper, and happy.

Watching everyone singing happy birthday and seeing you smothering cake and frosting all over yourself was one of the best times of his life. And he would never forget it.

+•°+*°•+

A/N: i might do another Dad!Tony stark x baby!daughter!reader cause it's so fluffing cute! And here are the few things I forgot while writing this

Tags

@animealways // @white-wolf-buckaroo // @tonystark-au // @zebralover //

[limeade-l3sbian]

Some time ago, before I cut contact with my dad, I would often contemplate his mindset. Not of why he was so lackluster in all manners of fatherhood but about his unbiased, objective few of me as a girl and, now, a woman.

On some obligatory level, I know my dad loves me. I think his perspective of what makes someone a “good Christian” demands this of him. And in a small percentage of the time we spent together, he might love me for the child he knew. And to hear that a father loses interest in his daughter when she grows up/develops the ability to defy and to think is not a new experience. There were telltale signs of it coming so I was fully prepared. But I expected a casual indifference when we got to the point we are now. He would lie about me to the family and retain his desperate image of a father “trying his best.” Like I said, I saw it coming years before.

But it didn't really play like that. Because while he definitely began to detach, there was this frustration and rage in his eyes when he spoke to me. When I called him out. When I didn't just shrug off what he said. He was so angry when I threatened to stop talking to him for a while and followed through. As a child, he couldn't understand why I chose to live with my mom in a homeless shelter over staying with him and his now ex-wife. And there are a handful of family facts and personal history that I won't just spill but I know for a fact play a part in this. I was more interested in his objective perspective of me, like I said.

And to be frank? My dad loves me in a very superficial way, but in no way likes me. My family is the type that say “blood is thicker than water” no matter what. Generations of abuse and neglect founded on the back of “respect” that is inherited rather than earned. My mom was the first to make me challenge that, and I think my dad resents her for that to this day. 

When I was younger, I considered him cool. Especially since he seemed supportive of my feminist ideology that I garnered very early on by just being with my mom. My thoughts then and now? How can a woman's place only be by a man's side when my mom has given me as much of the world as she can without one? I just wasn't buying. But he always told me he wanted me to be independent and strong. So I can give him that credit. No one in my life ever told me I couldn't be whatever I wanted to be, and that is a real blessing I don't take lightly.

But his support had a veil of contrasting expectations. I didn't have to wear makeup…but I should have my hair pressed or braided. I could wear pants instead of skirts…but you need to ask your mom to teach you how to shave. The role models he thrusted upon me were strong figures still deeply layered under a presentation that was appealing, especially to him. To him, they were still “women.” Strong but ever willing to submit. 

And his support always came with imaginings. When I inevitably became rich, he would joke that I could get him things. When I won a writing award as a kid, he didn't drive me home for twenty minutes until he finished boasting to his friend about me. He thought I was the most intelligent person he'd ever met. If I could just stop being so disagreeable and more presentable then the world would be my oyster.

And as an adult, hearing him speak, I could finally understand why my average intelligence seemed like such a world shattering achievement. Because to my father, I was intelligent in spite of being born female. I immediately thought back to all his interactions with women. How they were either dismissive or lewd. How he rolled his eyes when my stepmom would demand basic respect from him. And I'd laugh with him. [Go ahead and insert infamous quote about how it will not save the daughter.]

His perception of women was secondary. Adam's rib. He wanted to raise me as Eve and felt (and feels) cursed that he was bound by blood to Lilith. And the only Christian thing to do is spend the rest of his life trying to change me. And when I came out, that thin smile of support from him told me that he felt his ability to control not just slipping, but being yanked. I did not recognize men as authority. His only card he had and has left is that we are bound forever by blood.

But I don't care about blood. The water of strangers and women in my life and in this community has carried me further in life than blood ever has or, at this point, ever will. 

[angy-grrr]

Idk if i'm just crazy but i noticed that there is a pattern with something that Uraraka does, is punctuated immediately after something Katsuki did before to Izuku and vice versa. I feel like this somehow highlights a difference between their intention and meaning for him. Like i'm sure this might be just a big coincidence but still.

well who knows really! The first thing that comes to mind to me is how Ochako helped Deku when he fell at the beginning, by being on the side/ behind him and using her quirk to avoid it, and Katsuki holding him facing each other, running to get to him faster than the rest -including Iida, whose quirk is literally about that!

But also the whole Deku thing; personally, because the author admitted he didnt intent to have Katsuki as a positive part of Izuku's life at first, I believe the reason for these introductions was clear: Bekugou, his childhood friend, opposes him and creates "Deku" as an insult to put him down, and will always mean that to him, while Ochako, a new friend he meets when starting his hero school, changes it creating something new and fresh so Izuku can have a motivation.

Non supporting VS Supporting. Out of his life VS In his life. Old VS New. Hopelessness VS Hope. Static VS Change.

You name it.

But then the author changes his mind, and Katsuki isn't just the rival anymore, and all of the sudden "Deku" has many layers; "Deku" also means the one that does his best alone, isolated and overworked, and even tho apparently this has shifted since the current chapters...

Slight manga spoilers, not too much tho (I guess??):

idk, Izuku still was ready to get up alone and fight if Aizawa didnt stop him to give him the T-shirt and remind him they are there. He was running alone, and others have to go to him (in this case, Iida) in order to help him, because he is still not asking for help at all.

It has been brought up again, the meaning Ochako gave it, and im not 100% sure if this is her remembering, Izuku, or the three of them -probably the last one? Iida seems to understand now what Ochako meant back then, and they see it in a positive light (which was the intention!), but for Izuku doing the best can mean many things. What's the best he can do? Act like All Might was his first answer, but that didn't work. Saving others? He knows heroes should do this, but with how unclear things are I dont know if he is aware the class would support his decision of saving a villain -after all, as far as we know, he doesn't tell anyone because he wants to share it with someone, but because someone else admitted it first.

Uraraka confessed that first, and showed that vulnerability without knowing how he could react [and honestly, it looked in that moment like she was mainly expressing herself outloud], and after that he ended up also sharing a similar feeling he had about villains and saving. What I mean is that he doesn't say shit unless someone else was vulnerable first.

Ochako wasn't going out to talk to anyone about it either, lets get that straight, but when she was asked by one of her best friends she lets herself be at least a little; she saw Izuku meant something "slightly" different than her, so she doesnt tell him how she envied her genuine smile, her freedom to be herself, love who she loves, or how she thought she was actually cute. She knew it was better to not talk about that because he had no interest in that, so she keeps it to herself knowing she will fight to make sure Himiko hears her this whole thing would be a part of the izuku and ochako meta kjfskjflajflksja

This happened too with Katsuki during their second fight; after Katsuki was emotional and falling apart, confessing such intimate and sad emotions with him, that's when Izuku couldn't help himself and ended up also putting his guard down. And still, he held back a crucial part -he didnt say he acts like him without even trying, and even tho everyone would see it as nasty and bad, he can't hate those things, those parts oh himself, because they are parts of Katsuki, his symbol of victory, what he sees as the best form of heroism. Despite Katsuki explaining he's confused and insecure over his main theme -victory-, and worries about it being not only unworthy but also the reason their idol "ended"... He held back.

He lost because of that.

Its interesting the contrast between those two scenes in terms of emotional vulnerability and reactions, before a war ochako and izuku are much calmer and distant than katsuki and izuku after getting back from a successful rescue. In the first case nothing actually changed between them -im not talking about the nature of the relationship but just the general apparent feelings and status. They are friends who share ideals and common interest before and after the talk, and the only one who was more reflective about it was Ochako who prefers to discuss it with Himiko than him -its more about them anyways. Izuku stays the same, as far as we know, because he thinks she also "just"* felt empathy for someone that was sad and alone, and we can't see this affecting him or shifting something between them.

His emotional moments with Katsuki? They do change everything every time -when he said he was going to be a hero, when they start to get closer, after the war "Deku" becoming "izuku", embracing what makes the other great, etc.

*Its a huge deal and really important, im not trying to minimize his motivations or ideas, just point out how their feelings and conflicts are different and similar -at this point we don't see Midoriya admiring Shigaraki in any way thru this whole story. The manga hasn't ended and he is unreliable, so maybe im wrong and he admires qualities about him he learns later on, but right now for me Izuku wants to bring him support because he is a human and nobody should get treated like he was.

Ochako and Katsuki also have different roles in his rescue, with him bringing him back to them and her showing everyone he is a boy that needs help. Izuku was moved by both actions, and thanks to Uraraka he gets to the shelter.

Their fight was also interesting! Ochako was thinking about winning this, yet she tried to follow Izuku's ideas and lost after trying something way too risky for her, because she ended up ignoring her own judgement and limits out of insecurity and admiration; when Katsuki tries to use his strategies in the wars tho, he is able to achieve what he wanted -he saves Izuku from getting stabbed, saves All Might from getting crushed by AFO, before dying he gets to weaken some parts of Shigaraki's body for the rest to use, etc.

Its not that he loses himself, he just tries something new that works for him, and im happy Ochako ended up realizing she needs to keep in mind what she needs and wants when taking inspiration from Midoriya. Even if similar, their feelings for "their" villains are different, and that's okay.

Katsuki now doesnt call him Deku unless he refers to his hero name, and prefers to use his first name while Ochako keeps using Deku-kun when talking to him or says directly his full name like in her talk with Himiko where she explains some parts of her life.

Even if "Deku" comes from "Izuku", the latter is closer, new for them, a little challenging at times, and shows respect, recognition and reaffirms his humanity over his heroism. "Deku-kun" sounds like "you can do it", a supportive name that comes from a misunderstanding from the beginning, and keeps getting used as she hasn't change her perspective about him in that way. He is still Deku-kun to her, but now Izuku to him.

Change VS Static.

Huh, I wonder where that came from.

[thedevilsoftruth]

I know this isn't what I usually post but I just want to take a second and say thank you to The Downward Spiral and Trent Reznor.

I wasn't born during the time this album was released, I'm gen z but my parents, teachers, and most adults I know love this album and have memories from when it was released. It's funny how that works, isn't it? How can a band be this big? It just goes to show just how influential NIN really is, and how much of an impact they had on people as they were releasing music.

My first ever experience with Nine Inch Nails was when I was eleven or twelve. We didn't have wifi in our house and I was listening to the radio when my parents weren't in the house. I remember closer coming on and immediately feeling a sense of pure dread. I was terrified of that track, I thought it was the scariest song ever. Even through the censored chorus, I could piece together what Trent was saying and I was... angry? I called my dad and I was screaming, " I CANT BELIEVE THEY WOULD PLAY THIS ON THE RADIO. THIS IS SOME DIRTY STUFF!! HES SAYING I WANNA EFF YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL. " But even though I was so angry I was also curious. I wondered what the name of the song was and I wanted to listen to it again. I never found out and it never came back to me. Until 2022.

In 2022 my uncle was driving me somewhere when I heard that song on the radio again. And again another time in the car. I went home, went to YouTube and searched it up and ended up on really liking it. Beginning of last year I HATED NIN. Absolutely despised them. Couldn't listen to them, they were too loud for me and I just had a burning hatred for them for some reason. But I got sick one day and was reading a bunch of Moon Knight comics in bed and listening to YouTube music when Scantified from PHM came on. And I was In love.

The smooth, sexiness of that funky bass line, the alluring element of Trent's voice, all mingled together and penetrating my virgin ears. Scantified was really the song that got me into NIN. I enjoyed closer but I LOVED Scantified. The same night I went and listened to PHM twice. Head like a hole, ring finger, the only time, terrible lie. Those were the songs that had me awesturck. I kept thinking, " somebody made this. This is real. " It was just too good to be true. The whole album had me awestruck. It was unlike anything I'd ever listened to before. I liked Depeche Mode, The Police, She Wants Revenge and Prince. But nothing. Nothing ever came close to listening to PHM for the first time.

And it just got better as I listened to even more of this band. The fragile was the second album I ever truly liked by NIN. I loved it so much I asked my father to buy me the CD for it and PHM on my birthday last year. In fact I loved the fragile more than I loved PHM. And then late November of last year is when I really gave The Downward Spiral a listen.

I came back right where I started. In the car, with the radio playing. Except this time I was flipping through the CDs my aunt had. That was when I saw a CD that stood out to me. It was sliver with a white spiral printed onto it. I looked down and saw a familiar logo printed onto it. I didn't recognize the CD.

" Nine inch nails? Which album is this? I didn't know you liked them. " I asked my aunt. She had a huge grin on her face and then told me to put it in. And from that moment on, my taste in music was completely changed.

From the second I heard the very first second of Mr Self Destruct, I knew I was in for a ride. What is that loud noise? Is someone being beat? And then we go straight into all of these loud, complex noises I can't even describe. With all these textures and layers, Trent's kind of quiet, but angry voice throught the song mingled with all this loudness going on in the background is just... Art. And then it gets quiet. And it jumps back into that madness.

But I think out of all the songs on this album, the ones that stood out to me the most were Reptile and Ruiner. Reptile... I just can't even describe why I love so much. I love ruiner because of its kickass solo and it's pure madness and hatred, but reptile. Reptile is the missing piece of the puzzle that was the story this album tell you. I could talk about the story of this concept album, but thats a whole different conversation for another time. There's something about Reptile that you can't find anywhere. Reptile is dark, sexy, confusing, seemingly quiet ( according to my aunt ) and just... When you hear i youre like, " what the fuck is this? What hell is going on. " But in a good way. In the nicest way possible. There's a certain heaviness of this song, and I'd argue that while it's not they're angriest it's probably one of their heaviest. And not just like metal heaviest, I really don't know how to describe it. The guitar riffs in this song, especially after Trent says, " get it " and " devils speak of the way in which shell manifest" I think I just actually ascend each time I hear it.

It actually feels illegal listening to The Downward Spiral. It feels illegal listening to Nine Inch Nails in general because of how good they are. Trent Reznor is actually the greatest musician of all time-- hell, the greatest producer of all time. Like how can someone just be this good? He's such an amazing person too.

The Downward Spiral is my friend in my time of need. It's the guy who I look to whenever I'm sad and need to let out my anger. I can't listen to it all the way through without becoming depressed-- but this album hit home for me. I remember Trent saying one time somewhere that he dosent know how to write lyrics. That's just crazy in my eyes because he writes things that are actually real. Each time I listen to The Downward Spiral I feel like I'm being sung my entire life and everything I've ever struggled with.

To finish off this post, thank you Trent. Thank you for the wonderful decades that you've been producing music and changing lives. And happy late birthday to The Downward Spiral. Can't believe I missed the birthday of one of my favorite albums of all time.

[that-one-enby-ranger]

Letter

Day 14 of the Ranger Gathering - Letter

Gilan woke up earlier than usual. He sat up in his bed, stretched, and then looked out the window, only to see that the sun hadn't risen yet. He also noticed the layer of snow that was on the ground. He couldn't even see it behind the trees. He estimated it to be around the fifth hour. Around the time Halt would usually wake up. 

He got out of bed, changed, and opened his door, walking into the cool room, the light morning winter breeze seeping in underneath the cracks in the door. Gilan noticed Halt wasn't out of his room yet, so he walked over to his door. Putting his ear close to the door, Gilan could slightly hear Halt's deep and regular breathing, indicating that he was still asleep. He should be awake soon, Gilan decided.

He stepped away from the door and quietly walked into the kitchen. His training was going along quite well. He put some water into the coffee pot and got some coffee prepared. Soon the smell of coffee filled the cabin. 

Shortly after he heard Halt's door open. Gilan knew exactly what he was going to say to his mentor. 

'Mornin' sleepy head,' Gilan said cheerfully. It was the name that Halt and his father would call him when he got out of bed late. Which was all the time. It felt good using it on Halt for once.

Halt glared hard at him but Gilan just smiled back. His mentor ignored him. 

'Aren't you going to say anything?' Gilan asked. Halt looked at him.

'Say what?' He asked.

'I don't know,' Gilan replied, 'Maybe congratulate me for waking up early today, and for getting the coffee ready.'

'You should be doing that anyway,' Halt said. Last night he had been up late working on reports at the kitchen table. He had been too tired to finish them and had just left them on the table. He gathered the reports up now, walked over to his room where the door was still open, and lightly tossed them onto his bed from the doorway. Then he closed the door and walked back into the kitchen, accepting a cup of coffee from Gilan. 

Even though Halt had been too tired to finish reports, that didn't mean he was too tired to do other things. He had ended up lying on his bed, drawing in his sketchbook, even later into the night. He always did.

Mentor and apprentice now sat at the kitchen table, sipping their coffee. 

After finishing his third cup, Halt stood up, walked into his room and came back out with his cloak around his shoulders. 

'I'm going to go pick up the mail,' Halt said, 'when you're finished breakfast, do your chores.' Gilan nodded and Halt left. 

Their mail was kept at the castle in Baron Arald's office. They had permission to just walk in and grab it. The reason it was kept there was because the messengers and couriers were fearful of the ranger's, making it easier for them to just drop it off at the Baron's secretary's office, to be sorted out by him. If a letter was marked urgent however, the seal being red, it would immediately be taken to the ranger's cabin. Otherwise it would be kept at the castle, until either Gilan or Halt came to pick it up, which was usually every two days. Halt sometimes found going back and forth to the castle, through the village, extremely annoying, but he was also used to it. And then of course Lady Pauline would sometimes come to drop it off in her free time, using it as an excuse to see the grizzled ranger.

Gilan drained the rest of his coffee and started working on his chores.

← — →

Gilan looked up as he saw the door open and Halt stepped inside. He took off his cloak, hanging it on the hook by the door, snow melting off it. He had a small bag in his hand, holding all the letters and reports they had recently gotten. He walked over to the fire that Gilan had gotten ready, and sitting down in one of the chairs, started reading through them.

Gilan knew not to disturb his mentor at the moment, so he continued wiping the dust off the top of the shelves. 

Reports, reports, reports. That's all they ever were, Halt thought. Reports that he would eventually have to read through properly. But not at the moment. At the moment he had something else to read. A letter from Crowley. It wasn't marked with an oakleaf symbol, so he knew it wasn't a work letter. Just a private one between friends.

He opened it up with his throwing knife, took the letter out, and began reading.

Hello my dear  chaotic friend,

How have you been? Hopefully not too affected by the weather. You know, you should be proud of me. So far during this winter, I haven't gotten sick yet! That's a first. 

How's Gilan doing? Hopefully not too annoying, otherwise I'll be out of the job! If he does get too much of a handful, just remember to repeat to yourself: "Muder is illegal." That should help.

How's Pauline? Finally mustered up the courage to ask her out already? Time is slipping my friend. 

Also, I thought I'd let you know, considering it is your home land, I was talking to good ol' King Duncan the other day when he mentioned to me that apparently the Princess of Clonmel has sadly passed away. Princess Caitlyn I think her name was. Just thought I'd let you know, don't know if you knew already. Apparently she was sick and just died peacefully in her sleep. Must be horrible for her son. 

Anyway, hope I see you soon, Halty!

All the love from Crowley.

Halt went through a few emotions while reading that. Amusement at how Crowley could still be cheerful even in his letters, Halt could basically hear his friend talking to him. Anger at Crowley's Pauline comment and then shock, denial and grief when he read about Cailtyn's death. He didn't get much further after that.

Caitlyn, his precious little sister, was dead. No, he told himself, she wasn't dead. Maybe he had just read it wrong. Maybe she was just sick. Maybe it was a different Caitlyn, unlikely as that was. Maybe Crowley had received misinformation, or had misunderstood. But as reality caught up to Halt, he realised that what he had read was in fact what he thought he had read. And it was true. 

Caitlyn was dead. 

Gilan looked up and noticed that Hat had gone pale, and his hand that was holding the letter was  shaking. 

'Halt?' He asked carefully, 'Are you okay?'

Halt didn't answer for a while. Then he stood up and walked towards his room. With his hand on the door handle, he said back to Gilan without looking back, 'Get back to your chores,' then he went inside and closed the door behind him. 

Gilan could have sworn he heard a catch in Halt's voice, but shook it off as his imagination. Halt didn't cry. Though he was still confused about what had just happened, he went back to his chores.

← — →

Later on in the afternoon, Halt still hadn't come out of his room. Gilan was starting to get worried. Maybe his mentor was sick, suddenly coming down with a fever.

Gilan walked over to Halt's door and knocked on it. No answer. Taking his chances, Gilan drew a breath and silently opened the door. What he saw he wasn't expecting.

Halt was lying on his bed, on his side, asleep. His left arm was hanging off his bed slightly and Gilan saw a piece of parchment and a charcoal pencil on the floor, underneath his hand. 

Gilan silently walked towards it and picked it up. He saw it was a drawing. Around the edges of the parchment were drawings of small animals and insects. Cats, dogs, rabbits, bees, butterflies, even a snake in the corner, which was strange because Gilan knew Halt hated snakes. There were also silhouettes of people dancing in the corner of the page. In the centre of the page was a name and a couple of words in a different language that Gilan didn't understand.

Caitlyn

Cub Stór

Gilan studied the drawing a little bit longer and then suddenly remembered that he wasn't allowed to be in Halt's room, and he certainly wasn't allowed to look at the drawings and sketches. If Halt woke up now and saw Gilan he would be furious. Gilan didn't even want to think about possible punishments. He placed the parchment back on the ground, knowing that if Halt woke up and found it on his desk or bedside table, he would know someone else was in his room. He rejected the idea of draping a blanket over Halt's shoulders for the same reason.

He quietly left the room, leaving the older ranger to sleep. He was still confused about what was going on and he had lots and lots of questions. Who was Cailtyn? What was in the letter? Why hadn't Halt come out of his room? Why was he sleeping? What did those Hibernian words mean and why were they written on the parchment? So many questions, and yet he knew if he asked them it would be a mistake. A huge mistake. He figured he'd find out in the future.

He also had a feeling that when Halt woke up, it would be a good idea to not ask many questions at all, regardless if they were about the letter or not. He had a feeling that whatever Halt had read was a shock and some bad news. Pushing his mentor's temper would be a bad idea.

A very bad idea.

Cub stór = Darling Cub Fun fact: I was too lazy to write something new for this so I decided to just grab a one-shot I wrote ages ago. Hope you enjoyed it. Blah blah blah, same messages, bye.

[leggerefiore]

Liar, Liar

cw: Mafia au, violence toward reader with a knife by an attacker, fluff, poly (ingo/reader, emmet/reader), minor injuries,

summary: You meet two identical men in your café, and they change your life. Whether it's for the better is up in the air.

words: 2922

----

There were obvious signs of something amiss in Nimbasa. It would be foolish to pretend everything was a happy, expensive area with only bright and kind people in the population.

Customers would gossip about whatever a certain group had taken to doing in the seedier areas. Well, they even took up some residence in the wealthier areas. Talks of thefts, deaths, and over all violence and intimidation. You pretended to be ignorant, focused more on washing your cups rather than looking over your shoulder for any unwelcome guests in your sleepy café tucked away in a transitory area of the city. Close enough to the subway station not to worry about getting off late, yet not possible to entirely avoid the supposed members of a crime syndicate in the area.

You treated them as you would any other customer, happy they did not enter your business coated in a layer of blood and reeking of smoke.

It had been raining the evening you made your first encounter was one of the two men that would come to consume your life.

Rain tapped against the glass of your shopfront, which looked out into the mostly deserted road. Street lights had yet to come on, but the lights of the store illuminated the area enough. Evening had taken hold, however, so soon the iridescent white lights from above would bright light to this coming darkness. Light piano music wafted from your small speaker, sound to break an uncomfortable silence. Your store was mostly empty at this hour, most customers already come and gone for the day.

Your back had been turned as you cleaned one of your cups, humming along lightly to the music. For a moment, you finally felt at ease. The day had not been particularly busy, but you were looking forward to your one-day off.

The bell on your door ringing had honestly caught you off-guard.

Turning your head, you saw a pitiful looking man soaked head-to-toe. His white button-down almost translucent, leading to him pressing his heavy coat closer to himself to hide his visible skin. He took his hat off his head to completely reveal his silver strands underneath. They were dry, having avoided the onslaught of water. You immediately felt terrible for the guy. His face was frozen in a frown, and his eyes looked uncertain as he gazed around the room. Warm, yellow light gave the café a welcoming feeling as it bounced off the wood tones that decorated the room.

“… What would you like?” you asked him as you approached your counter, “With your condition, I'm willing to give you anything under ten for free.” His eyes went wide as his cheeks dusted with a light pink.

“I couldn't,” he mumbled himself as he looked over your menu, “A plain cup of your house-blend…” You tilted your head as he lightly placed the exact change for the drink on your counter. Something about him felt like a challenge. You shook your head and gave the cash back to him.

“That's barely a charge for me,” you argued lightly, “Just take it and unwind for a minute. Take a seat, I'll have to mop anyway.” For a moment, his eyes met yours. They were the same colour as his hair. You smiled at him sweetly, and he broke the contact and awkwardly hobbled over to a chair. A proud feeling bubbled up in your chest. Quickly, you poured him his order and brought it out to his table. Giving him another grin, you walked back to your sink to continue your dishes.

One glance was given to him, however, watching as a small smile spread across his lips. You felt victorious. Another 'customer' satisfied.

You had barely noticed when he left, focused entirely back on your dishes. The bell simply rang, and an empty cup sat on the table.

Alongside the money you had given back to him.

~

The second one of the two came not long after on a following evening.

You had taken to trying out a new dessert recipe when the bell rang. Turning your head, you spotted him. At first, you believed it was the same guy. You waved at him and rushed over to the counter, macarons still in hand. He had tilted his head at the item. Grinning at him, you spoke, “Hey! You came back!” His face twitched a bit at that, but you continued on. “I told you that you really didn't need to pay, but you still did! I won't let you trick me twice,” you proudly declared and pushed the plate to him, “Take these. No payment needed.”

He blinked a few times before bursting into a fit of laughter. It did not seem mean, nor was it teasing. “Ingo told me you might bring it up,” his voice was different in cadence to before, “I am Emmet, and you are thinking of my twin brother.” Your eyes went wide. Two? There were two of them? Looking him over more thoroughly, you could tell he had a different air to him. Something more playful and expressive.

“Well, that changes nothing,” you shook your head, “Take them still! My revenge will be through you.” He gave another giggle at your words, but took the plate. Looking them over, he hummed excitedly and popped one into his mouth. Pure joy bled on his face. You felt confident now that they should be added to your menu.

“These are verrrry yummy,” his voice was like a bird's coo, “Heehee, with the shade of yellow these are, you could put little eyes and legs on them and sell them as Joltiks.” Your eyes went wide. That was smart. Really smart. People liked cute and themed things.

“Good idea… Er, Emmet,” it felt odd to call a near stranger by their name, “Did you want to order a drink?”

His smile was bright as he immediately gave you one of the most complicated and sugary orders of your life. It did smell good, though.

~

After both of their visits, you felt as if your café had gained more traction. Depot agents popped in on their breaks, and many more varied people came in, too. You enjoyed the sudden boom in profits but wondered what had happened to bring so many people in. No influencer or celebrity had come as far, you knew. (Well, the model Elesa had visited, but that was only after the sudden boom of people.) It was exciting and thrilling.

The two odd silver-haired men had even become regulars, much to your delight. Often, you tended to get one in at a time, but when they came together, you enjoyed watching them bicker like most siblings do. Emmet obviously respected his older brother a lot but still could not resist teasing and mocking him lightly. Ingo tried to keep his brother's “bad” behaviour at a minimum and scolded him for random things. They mostly just chatted with you, though. Their love of trains and battling was obvious, which is why they explained that they became Subway Bosses (and the Depot agents finally made sense).

Separately, they seemed to find themselves on different topics. Ingo spoke about his interest in cooking and how he somehow found his paperwork more relaxing than other aspects of his job. Things like his urge to speak about how to nurture and raise pokemon and his obvious longing for something domestic warmed your heart. Emmet liked to speak about good battling strategies and how to breed people, on the opposite end of his brother. He also had a big sweet tooth and adored all your sweets you sold in the café. There was something fun about him that kept you interested in him.

You honestly had come to enjoy the lull of your life. Work was busy yet rewarding, and you had made some new friends with curious interests. Life felt oddly complete.

Your guard had dropped, and you had become careless.

Which is what led to you being held at knife-point in an alley way near your café. You felt hot, fat tears coating your face as your assailant talked on the phone with someone in hushed tones. There had already been a warning that if you screamed, you were dead. You felt terrified out of your mind. The urge to return to earlier when you were chatting with Emmet about his Joltiks enveloped your mind. The younger twin had given you had a warm hug before he left, much unlike how cold brick scratched at you.

The blade dug into you more, causing you to bite back a scream. The conversation on the phone was not going well, and it was apparent that your assailant was losing his temper. He hung up the phone and turned to you with a dark glare. A cry escaped your throat as he finally broke your skin and let your precious blood escape. Your eyes closed. All the rumours about criminals echoed in your head now. Oh, how you wished you had heeded them.

Before you had much of a grasp as to what happened, the attacker was flung from you by someone. They pinned him to the ground in a violent flurry, the knife having fallen from his grasp. You fell right on your ass as your knees gave out from stress. Heavy breaths panted in your chest as you watched the scene. You felt in denial about your saviour. An arm gently snaked under your arms and helped you up. You leaned against the warmth.

“I-Ingo,” you cried, recognising the man immediately. He turned you from the scene and pressed your face into his chest while shushing you. A loud scream pierced the air, and then silence followed. No more struggling and groans were heard. Footsteps echoed behind you.

“… It was the Hydreigon group,” Emmet's voice was quiet, “Brother, they aren't safe any more…” Your heart dropped at his words.

“Naturally… They are mad that we won't let them have this district still,” Ingo replied back and lifted your chin to gaze at him, “You are hurt…”

“Wh-what are you talking about?” you panicked, terrified of these two who you had come to see as friends, “Let me go!” Ingo released you as you wished, but you felt trapped by how he still blocked the entrance of the alley way. “Why?”

“… I really don't wish to tell you,” his voice cracked as his eyes returned much to the pitiful state you had first seen them as, “Please, just come with us. You're in danger now.” You felt heavy and fast breaths escape you. There was really no way to just leave like this. As terrified as you were, you still wanted to believe in them.

“F-fine,” you relented, “Just… Just no more of that.” Whatever happened behind you between Emmet and the attacker was not something you dared even a glance at. Ingo nodded and promised, but Emmet did not say a word.

~

Their apartment was on a more expensive side of Nimbasa, and certainly unlikely to be afforded by just their salaries as Subway Bosses. The guards that stood around the lobby and their floor made it obvious that something more was at play. You could no longer plead ignorance to whatever was going on around you. Luxuries decorated the inside, where more security lurked. You were sat down on the couch as Ingo reached into a nearby drawer to pull out a first-aid kit. Immediately, he took to tending to where the knife had cut into you.

His hands were gentle and trained, as if he has done this many times before. Emmet was nowhere in sight, having vanished off into one of the rooms and shutting the door behind him. After a covering was applied to your wound, you grabbed Ingo's wrist and looked into his eyes desperately.

“What are you both involved in?” you asked him, “Ingo, I have a right to know after what happened.” His eyes moved to gaze at the floor. A deep contemplation was obviously going on in his head as you refused to let him move an inch away from you. A sigh escaped him.

“… We're the heads of the Dragons Family,” he explained, not daring to look you in the eyes. Your breath felt stuck in your lungs. That simply seemed impossible. Loveable, innocent and kind Ingo and Sweet, playful Emmet were the heads of such a terrifying group. You could not believe it. He must be lying. “I didn't want to tell you,” he suddenly spoke again, coming to hold your hand, “I wanted to keep you out of it. Emmet insisted it would put you in danger to not tell you, but I loved pretending to just be Subway Boss Ingo with you… I loved just existing as a normal person…”

His eyes were red as tears escaped them. You felt many contrasting emotions. What he did was bad, yes, but you could almost understand it. You are in danger now. Sighing, you softly cupped Ingo's face and wiped the tears from his face with your thumbs. “… I loved it, too,” you admitted to him, “What now? Am I just going to be targetted by everyone who hates you now?” Ingo relaxed in your touch for a moment.

“… Yes, almost certainly,” the older twin gently broke from your hold to stand, “I promise you that we will do anything and everything to protect you.” It was much too late to not involve yourself, you knew. His words felt reassuring. You smiled at him.

“I figured you would,” you stood up, too, trying not to flinch at the pain it caused from your wound, “You're such a sweet man, Ingo.”

You lost yourself in the embrace that followed.

You loved more than just time spent with together, as did he.

~

And another, who reappeared much later into the night.

You had been essentially ordered to stay the night and left to your own devices after Ingo pointed you to the guest room. He understood you needed a moment alone after all the revelations that had come out. They had numerous things to entertain you, but you found yourself gazing through a scrapbook you had found on a shelf. It contained many pictures of the twins during their younger years, obviously much different than the scenario in which they lived now. Two adoring parents and a more quiet life somewhere out of the city.

You wished you could have met them before they ended up involved in whatever this was.

When Emmet had slinked out of the room he had locked himself into, he seemed stunned to see you still awake and on the couch. He approached you and took a seat near you.

“I'm sorry,” were the first words from his mouth, “I should have been honest with you. I haaaaate lying.” You sighed. Emmet managed to look like a kicked puppy with how he crumpled himself together. Words were not where his talents lied, too, you knew.

“I'm putting my trust in you two,” you told him, “… You can make it up to me by wearing your Thomas the Tank Engine costume at my café.” He gasped and turned to you like you had found his darkest secret. You gave a small laugh at his reaction, causing him to smile at you sweetly. Scooting over next to you, his arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you into an embrace.

“We will, darling,” his voice was the coo he tended to fall into, “Anyone who can make desserts as good as you do deserves protection!” You laughed once again and laid your head on his shoulder. His warmth sunk right into you, and your exhaustion finally hit you. Nuzzling deeper into his nape, you felt your consciousness fading.

You barely made out the last words he said.

“I love you.”

~

Your life had changed a lot since meeting the twins.

Your café had become a city hotspot, and you always had at least one customer inside. That one customer may be your personal guard assigned to you by your boyfriends, but he still counted. He even tried your disaster drink of olive oil coffee. Following events taught you not to mix two diuretics together.

You had also gathered two adoring lovers in the form of two criminal heads of a crime syndicate, but you tried to just think of them as they appeared to you. Two normal subway workers who liked battling. It was better to ignore the bloodstains in your laundry and the late night calls to work that left you in bed alone. They had always made sure you were happy and well-cared for, however. Still feeling terrible about having dragged you into their nightmare of a reality. You held on to the hope that someday you three would leave Nimbasa and end up somewhere quieter and less dangerous.

You did mind as much as you thought you would. Ingo and Emmet had absolutely no plans to involve you in their work. In fact, you would not even get answers if you asked. They were terrified of the thought of you being harmed once more because of them. It was oddly reassuring.

You hummed as you washed a cup. A light rain had started again.

Then, your bell rung out.

Turning your head, you beamed at the two familiar men who had entered.

It was closing time, it seemed.

[queeniesrose]

Happy Holidays y'all! Hope you have a wonderful holiday season. Each drabble will be SFW! Hope you enjoy!

Master Post

Christmas Special - Pokemon

Rika: Mistletoe

The weather outside was nice, not too cold. There was a nice, fresh layer of snow on the ground and you were out shopping with Rika. Christmas shopping for others was always a struggle for you; especially if they were one of those that have everything, or they buy everything that they want. Rika was one of the people that you struggled to shop for, she has everything that she has ever wanted, and doesn't want for much.

Rika pulls you along to a bookstore, entering the warmth of the building. She soon drags you over to the romance section of the store, she stops short as she goes to walk through the doorway, "Well, would you look at that! Those sneaky employees, putting up mistletoe in the romance section!"

Your cheeks start to heat up as she mentions that, looking up to see it for yourself. "I guess we have to kiss then." You say, as you quickly pull her in for a quick peck on the lips. Your cheeks brighten up as you pull back. "It was smart of them to put the mistletoe here."

Raihan: Christmas Tree

Perks of having a giant for a boyfriend, means that he is able to reach the top of the tree. After arriving home with the tree and getting decorations for it, you were excited to decorate. This year, you had decided to get a tall tree, about 7 to 8ft tall. Deciding the best way to decorate was to direct your boyfriend.

As you turned towards Raihan, you picked up a string of lights and ribbon, batting your eyelashes at him. "Ready for the first step Rai?" You asked, handing him the lights, not waiting for an answer. "We'll start at the top the tree." You took a few steps back so you could direct him and not be in the way as he put them up. Once he had finished putting up the lights and ribbon, it was time for the ornaments.

Raihan had decided it was time for you to take over, opened up the boxes. "C'mon Love, it's your turn to start putting things onto the tree." He rifles through the multiple boxes you had, "What colors did you want to do this year? Gold and white, green and red, random?" He asked, pulling a few different ornaments out as he mentioned the different colors.

Leon: Hot Chocolate

You couldn't think of something better to drink, than a mug of hot chocolate after a day out in the snow. You and Leon had taken Hop snowboarding, before dropping him off at their mother's house. Once the two of you got home, Leon immediately sent you to go change as he started to heat up the milk for the hot chocolate.

As you made your way into the kitchen, you saw Leon mixing the cocoa mixture and milk together. He had turned on a Christmas playlist, and he was humming along to "Santa is Coming to Town". You wrapped your arms around his waist, as you approached him, "It smells amazing Lee. Do I smell some cinnamon in it?" You ask, looking up at him.

He sets down the spoon, before twisting in your embrace and wrapping his arms around you. He smiles down at you, "You, my love, have a very good sense of smell. Yes, there is some cinnamon in it. Along with some marshmallows. Just how you like it." He says, placing a kiss on your head. He hands you a mug, holding the other one in his hand. "Cheers Love."

Milo: Dancing to Christmas Music

After a long day of work, all you wanted to do was eat and enjoy some down time with your boyfriend. And that is exactly what you intended to do. As Milo arrived back to your place, he could faintly hear the song, "All I Want For Christmas is You" playing and smell different spices from the kitchen. He let is team out to relax, as he made his way into the kitchen. He paused at the door, leaning against the frame, as soon as he saw you dancing around the island.

It took you a few minutes to realize that he was watching you dance around. Once you did, you held your hand out to him. "Come dance with me Milo!" You yelled. Setting down the spoon on counter and turning down the stove, before you belted out the next line, "I just want you for my own. More than you can ever know! Make my wish come truueeee!" As you sang this, you pranced around the kitchen with Milo in tow.

Milo laughed, as you both terribly danced around and sang the rest of the song. As the song was coming to an end, he wrapped you up in his arms, and softly sang the last few lines into your ear, "All I want for Christmas, is you baby." He kissed you on the temple, "Well, we can make your wish come true love."

Larry: Holiday Photoshoot

It was a Christmas miracle that you got gym leaders to agree to doing a holiday photoshoot. What made it even better, was the fact that Larry agreed to wear a Christmas sweater. What wasn't surprising about it was that it was a gray and black sweater. He had his signature look of stressed, depressed, and ready for death. The photographers paired the leaders and elite four up with each other, or with a champion.

Luckily for Larry, he got paired up with his favorite champion, you. As you walked up to set, you linked your arm with Larry's. Looking over at him, you smiled, chuckling at how uninterested he looked compared to everyone else. "Cheer up old man! Tis the season to be cheery and rejoice in the Christmas joy!" You say, jostling him a little bit. "This will be fun, look lively a little bit for me, please."

Larry looks down at you, and smiles softly. He places a kiss on your temple, "For you, my lovely champion, I will try to enjoy this more." He says, as you arrive at the set. He drags you along, as he follows the directions that the photographer gives him. He unhooks your arm from his, before wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you in and posing. "Now, why don't you help an 'old man' look more lively?"

Sycamore: Christmas Lights

Every year in Lumiose City, there's a light show that happens in the city center. You have been bugging Sycamore ever since you move to the city and met him, that you wanted to go see it with him. The entire city was decked out with Christmas decorations and lights. This was the year, that you finally got him to agree to take you.

As much as he would love to say that you don't have him wrapped around your finger, you do. The two of you were matching head to toe. You had white long sleeves, dark gray pants, black boots, and gray overcoats on. You spun around to look at him, as the two of you walked towards the city center, grinning up at him. "You look so snazzy tonight, Mister Sycamore." You say, drawling out your accent as you say his name. You had your rotomphone out, taking pictures of you and the lights.

Sycamore's cheeks heat up a little bit, at your compliment. "Well, every snazzy looking man, needs an equally snazzy looking partner." He says, as he catches up to you, spinning you around. Right in time too, as the lights on the tower begin to twinkle. He hears you gasp at the sight, taking in all the different colors twinkling. "I think this exceeds your expectations love?"

[soft-bellied-tannies]

Little Bite #35

Read here or on AO3!

Jungkook’s metabolism crashed when he turned 27. 

He never had to worry about watching what he ate, but now, every calorie was sticking. All of his hyungs already learned this lesson and had warned him, but he had not listened - assuming they were making excuses for their own softening gains over the course of their relationship.

Jungkook had joked a lot about them gaining weight, and some gave it right back to him once he softened up. Jin and Jimin, especially, because they got the worst of it from him. Jungkook never missed out on an opportunity to poke Jin's soft tummy or smack Jimin's wide backside. 

He's also not stupid; he's well aware of the change happening with him. The way his once-toned abs have started to melt away into a slight layer of pudge or how his cheeks look a little puffy all day long now instead after just waking up or a salty bowl of ramen.

Noticing the change during the summer before his birthday, Jungkook had stayed on top of his gym trips and morning runs, but those weren't maintaining him the way they used to. With more birthdays, Chuseok, Christmas, and the winter season coming up, Jungkook was expecting it to only get worse. His 20 pounds over just the past three months felt like it was going to go up fast. 

“Someone’s looking healthy.” 

Jungkook hears as soon as he leaves the bathroom in just his towel, knowing at least one comment would be made after seeing the growing love handle pushing over the hem of the fabric wrapped around his waist. Of course, it's Jin.

“I swear to god, hyung.” 

Jin had the decency to raise his hands in an act of innocence even though his face held a smirk.

“I’m just saying, looks like you’ve been eating well.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“I’m certainly not calling you skinny anymore.” 

“Wow…okay, then.”

Jungkook wanted to be more offended, but he couldn't find himself disagreeing, and deep down, he knew his hyungs only meant well. He knew he wasn't fat...at least, not yet, and his hyungs would never actually make him feel bad about it. Hell, they had warned him about it even though he would argue that none of them had put on weight nearly as fast as he seemed to be - likely at the hands of his much larger appetite and six doting partners. 

“Do you disagree?” 

“Not the point.” 

“Happens to the best of us, Gguk”

“None of you are fat!”

“Well, that's up for debate and we certainly aren’t skinny little bean poles anymore either.”

Jin didn't roll his eyes even though he really wanted to do it. They had all expected a reaction as soon as they saw their sweet Jungkook start to soften and Jin knew it was going to be full of bickering just like this. Jungkook had to know he was in store for quite a bit of teasing after his fixation on everyone else's softness. 

“What are we talking about?”

Jimin asked, entering the room and finding the same signs of growth on Jungkook immediately - eyes locked to where the towel was emphasizing Jungkook's sides.

“How Jungkookie’s getting soft.”

“I’m not soft!”

Jimin walked over with a similar smirk that Jin held earlier and surprised them both by pinching Jungkook's tummy, fingers finding the growing layer of pudge below his belly button bringing a deep blush to Jungkook's face. 

“Hmm, pretty soft, babe.”

Jungkook let out an offended scoff as he smacked Jimin's hand away from his stomach. He tried to scowl at them both, but he knew he was less than imposing after his flustered reaction.

“I hate you both.”

"No, you don't and you know it." 

"Whatever."

Jungkook fought to keep the smile off his face as he stomped away from the laughter of his hyungs behind him. He dressed in his biggest hoodie as a way to dispel any more comments and went off to find Namjoon and Yoongi, knowing they would let him pout and complain. 

While they are both comforting and supportive with Namjoon's body maturity talk, neither can fully disagree either.

“Embrace it, it’s easier if you do.”

“And don’t listen to those two. They just like to push your buttons.” 

Namjoon and Yoongi wouldn't tease him the way Jin and Jimin would, but they were honest.

“Also…you kind of deserve it a little bit.” 

“Hey!”

“You still make fun of Jimin’s ass. He's going to end up with a permanent handprint one of these days.”

“Come on, hyung, his ass is huge, how do you expect me to keep my hands off of it? And it’s a compliment anyway! I love it." 

“Did you ever think that we are complimenting you too?”

“Oh…”

"Yeah, so quit fighting with your hyungs. We've been waiting for this." 

Jungkook nodded in agreement, still smiling about the fact that his hyungs were complimenting him before he realized what Yoongi said.

"Wait! You've been waiting for me to get fat?" 

"You're not fat, Gguk."

"Not yet!" 

Namjoon and Yoongi looked at him with a bit wider eyes before glancing at each other. They turned back toward him, Namjoon with a small smile and Yoongi with a raised brow. 

"Not yet? Something you want to share, baby?" 

"Shut up."

Both laughed as they watched Jungkook quickly leave the room with bright pink cheeks and a pouting face. Their laughs only grew louder when they saw Jungkook pass Hoseok in the hallway and the older decided to pinch Jungkook's cheek before Taehyung showed up, asking if he was hungry only flustering the youngest even further. Yoongi looked over at Namjoon, who seemed to think the same thing. 

"Man, this is going to be fun." 

[reddogf13]

scene from fanfic in progress "pride & ruin"

its an alpha/ omega one, but without the usual domestic violence lore or the anatomy swappage. has way more fluff and on the lines of hurt/comfort. i call it alpha/omega for vanilla people or alpha/omega "diet flavor". this scene was also written down out of order, so some bits may change, but overall i like how it is.

---------------

Alcina stared into the destroyed mirror. The glow of her eyes caught in the reflection of the glass. Looking back at her miserable self sitting alone in the dark. Why am I not enough? Looking over her knuckles left bleeding from punching the vanity mirror. Was it worth it? … Well, Heisenberg is gone. Softly smiling about it. Her lovely landscape view was always tainted by the black smoke of Karl's running factory, but now no longer. No more meetings with him, or anyone. No one can call me useless, worthless, a disappointment. These are my lands now and I doubt Donna will challenge me for the title. She sighed at the dreadful feeling sinking in again. Ethan was still here, she wanted him to leave already. But wasn't about to chase him out. Why bother, to make the position available? Could I find another omega out there? Should I take the time to travel? She shut her eyes until a plik noise had her look down. Growling at her bloody side dripping down to the floor. Great, hate getting blood on the carpet. She stood from her small stool, Heading out into the darkened hall down to the large cleaning closet. Grabbing a handful of gauze rolls to return with.

Ethan had been wandering the dark castle for not too long. Having no goal of where to go, but hope his buzzing thoughts would be silenced. His sleep had been thrown off since after Miranda's death. Questioning weather it was anxiety or for other reasons. Alcina had left him alone since Donna gave his official rejection. He was expected to move on eventually, it be rude not to. Hogging an important omega position that another could take. He wanted to, it'd be better for him and rose if he did. Yet, a part of him was regretting his answer. Her scent was gone from the omega den. He missed the bonding talks, her gentle care to calm his nerves. He felt alone, even with the girls still happy to hang around. He avoided the alpha for as long as he could and now all he wanted was her attention.

He tossed and turned in his bed for hours. Moving rosemary to the nursery, thinking. No point in both of us going without sleep. Tossing and turning alone under the layers for a while longer. Tired of that he left the room to wander the castle. He stopped at a crossing hall when he heard her approaching steps. Shrinking slightly against the nearby wall when she came into view. It was the first time he'd ever seen her in more relaxed presentation. A short sleeved buttoned up nightshirt of varying grays that draped to her hips. Matching baggy pants went down to cover a pair of simple black slip on shoes. Her hair flowed down loosely into wavy curls ending at her shoulders. Her beauty captivated him, as always, into staying speechless. Keeping quiet when her eyes flicked onto him. A golden glow from them catching the minimal light.

Spotting him immediately in the darkness between them. She stopped to ask. “why are you up?”

he swallowed before answering. “couldn't sleep. … why are you?” trying not to over step in asking. He cast his eyes down from hers. He didn't know how she'd still be taking the rejection.

“Bandages. ... Do you need anything?”

“No, I'm fine.” Ethan studied her hands without their usual gloves for cover. He saw the start of her sharp black nails along with the oddity of her finger tips being black as if frost bitten. Maybe ts just an illusion from the shadows. Concerned about the fresh blood on her knuckles, but he didn't ask about it. carefully glancing over he did spot another concerning issue. The edge of a large bloody patch at her side. From his angle he couldn't tell exactly how big. A plip noise hit the cool marble floor, now marked by a drop of blood. Following where she came from he could see a small trail highlighted by the moonlit windows.

She glanced back just as he did. Scowling at the mess she was trailing. “you should return to bed.” stepping past the crossing halls to leave Ethan alone.

leaving the way she was had Ethan's anxiety spike. She cant be left like that. “can I help?” he offered before she got too far.

She stopped to looked back. “If you wish.” giving him the grace of catching up to her side before continuing.

[flightfoot]

Hi! Do you have recommendation with love square a/b/o verse? Particularly with Alpha!Adrien?

Oooh yeah those can be fun! I haven't seen much of them lately, but I've liked a lot of the ML Omegaverse fics I've read! All of these will be T-rated or below, btw.

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dynamic by Anonymous

“I’m serious, my lady,” he clarifies, feigning collectedness. “Your chaton is an alpha, through and through.” “You–” She pauses, blinking. “Really?” “Yes, really,” he replies, and he catches some frustration slipping into his tone. He bites it back belatedly. Is it really so hard to believe? (More one-shots set in this AU may be added later as additional chapters.)

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the dreams (I tried but couldn't bring to life) by @pauliestorylover

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, alias Ladybug, had a crush on Chat Noir. The only problem? Beneath her suit, Marinette was secretly a familiar, and Chat Noir…was not. (He was also a familiar, they were both just lying to each other.)

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Tacenda by MiraculouslyHopeful

In a world where alpha/beta/omega dynamics seem to define everything, Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste's lives are far from easy. Marinette is confused, Adrien is tired, and Hawkmoth does not seem to be stopping, especially not after the two heroes find out what their classifications are. They always knew their lives would change with this information, but is it for better or worse in the end?

---

Hers by bumbleb_tch

Peeking into the room, she saw Chat sprawled on her chaise and quickly announced, “I’m-really-sorry-Chaton-but-I-ran-out-of-patches-and-need-to-really-quickly-grab-some-more.” By the time she finished her word vomit she was already digging through her closet. As her hand grasped the box, a soft keening brought her attention back to the room and a fresh scent bloomed, immediately lighting her senses on fire. Thick bergamot shadowed with an expensive sandalwood, layered on top of the gentle caress of a wild rose. It was powerful, chaotic, but it’s core softer than a butterfly’s kiss, it was undeniably Chat. But worse, it was undeniably omega. Marinette pivoted on her heels oh so slowly, taking special care to breath through her mouth as she took stock of her partner. Even from across the room she could see sweat pouring down his face, his pupils blown so wide she could only make out a miniscule strip of green sclera around them. “Chat...did you-did you just present?”

---

you deserve to be loved and you deserve what you are given by @thescuttlebugg

Marinette is terrified, suddenly. She’s not like this. She’s not this kind of alpha, to get her head turned by any pretty pheromones she trips over. She’s not--she’s not disloyal, she’s not inconstant. Chat smells like moonlight, like the sudden shock of night air and the terrifying rush of leaping out into the empty dark, like deserted city sidewalks and unfamiliar corners: something midnight-metallic, something strange, something wild. Nothing like Adrien. Not a single note in common. She’s not like this. She’s not like this.

He smells-- He smells-- “Ladybug,” Chat croaks, still staring at her. He smells stray.

---

alone together by a_miiraculer, clairelutra

i don't know where you're going but do you got room for one more troubled soul? Marinette's got 99 problems, and pretty-boy omegas are about half of them. A drabble sequence. On indefinite hiatus.

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This last one isn't actually Lovesquare, but it's one I wrote and it has Alpha!Adrien so I'm throwing it in anyway, I had fun writing it.

The Role of an Alpha by Keyseeker

When a newly presenting Omega crashes through his window, Adrien discovers what kind of Alpha he wants to be.