#I will never find a partner of my own because I hold real people to fictional standards and yes I'm self aware enough to say it

[nerdishpursuits]

Okay, this post is all over the place. Meaning it's a collection of thoughts that span over the last couple of weeks. Simply jotting things down as I watched and as they occurred to me. So, ye be warned. Here be a case of the verbose. It never ceases to baffle me, truly, how even the best content can trigger malcontent. And when it comes to this show the best example remains Twitter: the poster app for a flaming dumpster fire. Why people don’t just migrate over to BlueSky is just as dumbfounding. Oh well. Muting and blocking certainly helps curate the experience.

By all means, shall we vent (a little?)

1. Apparently Marta and Fina are too cringe-worthy in their dialogue now, as no one in real life would ever talk to their partner that way. Do I agree with this assessment? Most certainly not.

If anything, I find such scenes supremely satisfying. They reinforce the depth of their love and commitment to each other and manage to, somehow, always sound like wedding vows. At this point, honestly, I’d take this kind of scene over the more explicit ones reserved for the family values crowd. I prefer it because those other couples lack this in-depth emotional journey that we’re being treated to with Mafin.

The way Fina adores and cherishes Marta, how she supports her unconditionally. The reverence Marta holds for Fina, how she sees in her the embodiment of peace, of home, of love, of all that is well and good in the world. They are strong on their own, but together? Together they are invincible.

To me it’s obvious you can only have this kind of relationship with your partner if your level of comfort and trust in each other is absolute (nudge nudge wink wink @midniteowlet) And this is how Marta and Fina come across to me: beautifully at ease in each other’s presence, wonderfully supportive of one another, always nurturing and speaking a language of their own. A language of the heart that's intrinsically theirs.

So when they hold each other and confess their love in such a pure, unadulterated way, holding nothing back and simply allowing themselves to speak their truth? It’s a thing of beauty.

You are my example, Marta, my inspiration. You are the staff upon which I lean, whenever I feel myself fading. You are like a bird in flight, battered by the winds that try to bring you down. But always, always you soar again

You are a water lily, for the dirtier the water, the more beautiful the flower grows, so elegant, so serene

You are my strength. I need your embraces, your kisses. To rest in your arms, if only for a few hours, for they are the only place I find solace

To me these kind of dialogues and confessions never feel saccharine. It’s an expression of longing and love, of trust and admiration. And they stay true to the essence of a relationship between two women, where such displays of emotional and psychological authenticity take center stage.

And then we get a kiss. How nuanced the meeting of their lips. For Marta, the profound need to drink from this love that soothes her, cradles her, embraces her, ignites her and brings light and joy to an ever increasing darkness. For Fina, the selfless surrender, the ardent devotion, the intense admiration and the purest love. Theirs is a kiss that heals. A kiss that is home.

Bonus. Fina defending Marta against anyone who dares question her integrity and feeling so protective of her wife who often carries the weight of her family on her shoulders.

2. Optical delusions during the Marta & Pelayo scenes? Mind boggling. Personally, I'm quite enjoying them. I mean ... Fina's gentle touch has rubbed off on Marta 😌

3. Marta sarcastically saying she'll have to meet her future mother in law? Apparently not sitting well with some people. Sarcasm and irony have always been Marta's way of dealing with stressful situations. She's always been shown to awkwardly crack a joke, especially when things feel overwhelming and depressing. Seeing anything else in that? Claiming that she was all happy at the prospect of meeting that woman? Way off mark, imho. Marta and Fina are trying to make the best of an unpleasant reality. They have accepted this is the path they need to walk, but they also admit it's a painful one. I wish people would stop seeing things that aren't there. Considering they've done nothing but reinforce how much Marta & Fina are married to each other? Maybe one day it'll resonate that Marta's marriage to Pelayo is solely for convenience and something to, hopefully, offer protection.

Will they suffer because of it? Yes. Will they be dealing with the contraptions of a marriage, even though it's a fake one? Yes. Will their time be cut short, leaving them desperate to interact with each other? Also yes. In theory, this marriage will solve x and y. In practice, it will bring a host of problems they've not dealt with before: Pelayo's political career will place them under a microscope, Marta will be expected to play the dutiful wife in public, Fina will again feel like the odd one out (even though she is the sole reason Marta agreed to remarry). The world they want to fence out is very much pressing in, invading a space they want to call their own. The world will always demand its pound of flesh. But as long as they hold steady, hold fast and hold onto each other? They can make it work.

On to greener pastures.

Marta wanting to help Gema because she understands her need and desire to work, to feel useful and in control of ones life? I really loved their scene together and I don't think they've ever had a tête-à-tête before. I also love the fact that Gema doesn't aim for a position where she'd be in charge and doesn't shy away from hard work. I think that speaks well of her character. That being said? While I love Marta interceding for Gema with Joaquin, once again proving that her generosity and kindness knows no bounds? I do worry abut one thing with Gema: she's made of gossip. She'll be poking her nose into everyone's business, soon learning that Marta & Fina are together and who knows what she'll do with that information. To be frank, I'd been hoping Gema becomes the store overseer and robs Carmen of her position. That would have made for good drama and would have served as another lesson for Tasio, given he was loudly proclaiming he voted against Marta to secure Carmen's position. We shall see what this move holds in store and if Fina warms up to her. Gema is not a bad person. Let's trust she'll make the right choice. At least we got some peak comedy from the scene between Gema, Claudia & Fina.

Speaking of. Marta is too kind. Too kind to Andres, to Joaquin, to Tasio. However, in the long run she stands to win more if she's gracious and understanding. Hatred never leads anywhere good and Marta? Marta simply isn't made that way.

Still? Team Fina here. Fina and her perpetual hatred of anyone who hurts Marta. True to her feisty nature, Fina's there, representing, staring daggers into traitors. She's strong enough to hate them all, for the both of them. Forza, Fina!!!

Honestly though, I'd dearly love a scene where these a-holes apologize to Marta. But, hey. She's smarter than I am. Picking her battles and all that. Certainly not worth it to rage against the windmills. Better to sit it out and bide her time. Her moment will come again.

I suppose it just irks me somewhat when certain plot-points, that carry weight, seem to fall to the wayside. Or do they? Time will tell.

Curious about Irene. I suspect, long-term, she'll be against her brother. It would seem she does not approve of his methods.

Best thing about the Andres drama? Not seeing Andres. I guess Marta lost the directorship so she could play detective in his case. Too bad he's back now and comes up with brilliant ideas like the families rotating leadership every 6 months. The one great thing about Marta not being in charge was Joaquin having to struggle with the damn bathhouse on his own. Remains to be seen if anything comes of that. I'm not much of a business mind but this suggestion seems off to me. It can only work if there is trust and a willingness to cooperate. Given all the bad blood between these families right now? Maybe it's not such a good idea. Curious if they'll take this idea and run with it. Oh, well. Some Mafin goodness today. A sprinkle of sour'n'sweet, a pinch of shared concerns, a dash of comfort and some good ol' domestic ribbing.

[omegapheromone]

I would do anything to get Star Railed by the fine men of this stupid money scam game

[babiebom]

bachelors and their weird kinks/turn ons perhaps 👀

A/N: it took a LOT for me to find weird things that arent gross(literally shit or dead people sorry if you’re into these) and even then I don’t even think these are weird but there’s only so many sites that I can go on to find weird kinks or even kinks in general. Fun fact there’s a kink for watching people fall down the stairs!! Keep in mind I’m talking about these fetishes and kinks from my own memory from looking them up lmao.

Tw:nsfw like all of it, cursing etc let me know if I should tag anything else!!

Bc: at least 4 for each? One for what the kink is and one for the explanation?

Stardew Valley Masterlist

Sebastian

Dacryphilia the kink or fetish for watching or causing someone to cry(positive or negative). A kink for tears if you will

I don’t know if I’ve talked about this before (I might’ve?) but dude has a major crying kink. Like he needs to make you cry while having sex. In this instance it’s a good crying. Like from how good his dick feels inside you. How good it feels when he moves, when he touches you. It’s like overstimulation but the crying is the main thing he wants.

Somnophilia the kink or fetish for having sex with someone while they’re asleep.

AGAIN this is all consensual but he likes the way you look when you’re asleep. You’re fully content and relaxed, no troubles or worries. He just wants to make you feel even better to send you to a new level of paradise. And the way that you are free in your reactions instead of holding everything back. All of your sounds and the way you move…it just gets him off in a different way.

Sam

Katoptronophilia the kink or fetish for watching yourself or others have sex in a mirror

I think this kink more so has to do with his partner. I do think he would get off with watching you or him fucking you in a mirror. Like you both can see your own faces and it’s just hot how you can see how good he’s making you feel and the other way around. It’s like his recordings kink but in real time.

Claustrophilia the kink or fetish for tight spaces literally the opposite of claustrophobia

I think he would like the whole stuck in a small closet together thing or the whole (if you’ve seen kdramas bc this is the only time I’ve seen it) hiding from someone in a tight space and being forced to be close or touching.

Shane

Shibari the fetish or kink of Japanese bondage. It’s more artistic than regular bondage and can sometimes be nonsexual(meaning it can just be for the act of being tied/tying someone up)

I do think Shane might have a artistic side to him, he loves his blue chickens and even though he hasn’t particularly shown that he likes art I think he’d appreciate this form. Like yeah it has bdsm tones and he likes that, but he likes the time taken to tie you up, the time it takes to make the ropes look pretty on you. It gets the both of you riled up so the sex might be more passionate.

Electrostimulation the fetish or kink to being stimulated or stimulating someone with electricity

Oh dude is definitely a sadomasochist. He wants to shock you, he wants to be shocked (partially because he wants to feel something other than mental and emotional pain). It’s never so much that it hurts too much but it’s a little stinging sensation that he can’t get enough of.

Harvey

Quirofilia the kink or fetish for hands, but well taken care of/pretty hands

Oh I think Harvey HAS to take of his hands. As a doctor I think he would be happy if someone complemented how soft his hands were or how clean they looked. And on the other hand(heheheh) he would appreciate how nice your hands look, how soft they feel, how good they feel when touching him.

Breeding/Pregnancy the kink or fetish for pregnant people or getting someone pregnant. It has nothing to do with the child itself but the person carrying the child.

NGL I think once you two come to an agreement about pregnancy(in this case you agree to start trying for kids) Harvey is absolutely going to go batshit insane with this new development. Before he would’ve never said that this is something he’s into but once you two agree he’s so pumped up and actually starts talking dirty if he didn’t before. It’s crazy how different he is during this time.

Alex

Anasteemaphilia the kink or fetish for extreme size differences so either a giant or a dwarf(I hope this word isn’t offensive it’s what the website used)

Dude would NEVER reveal this but actually would love a giant girlfriend. I think because of the lowkey misogynistic views he has he would like a bigger woman and a smaller man. He would LOVE lady dimitrescu from resident evil. Like bffr.

Food Play the kink or fetish of involving food during intercourse so either eating it off each other or involving it in some way

Oh absolutely would love to eat food off of you and would want you to lick stuff off of him. Like whipped cream and chocolate syrup are MUSTS if you’re having a particularly long night. He thinks it’s so erotic to eat and consume stuff off of each other that don’t really have anything to do with sex.

Elliott

Psellismophilia the kink or fetish for stuttering

One of the weird ones I found. I think he would think it’s cute and if you do have a stutter or happen to stutter when you’re nervous he’s going to have such a confidence booster because of it. Like YES keep stumbling over your words and stuttering it actually is cute to him and he feels like he’s in a book or a movie or something.

Podophilia the kink or fetish for feet

I think this one is obvious? I think he’d prefer beautiful people and that includes feet. In a lot of erotic movies and books and even in romance books feet have some sort of importance to them. Whether it’s used to dominate someone or to pleasure someone he likes beautiful feet. He wants you to step on him(not in a rough way) and tbh I could see him wanting to recreate the scene in that one tarentino(is this his name) movie where he casts himself in the role that drinks I think alcohol from that woman’s food after it runs down her leg.

[maelancoli]

Writing Explicit Intimacy More Deeply

okay after the kissing post i've wanted to try to write something about actual sexual scenes. it's taken me a while to figure out what approach to take for such a broad subject because this is such a subjective form of writing and everyone has very strong opinions and varying proclivities. the truth is you are not going to please everyone and there will be a chunk of people who will always dislike your choice of words. and so even in writing a post to help others, there's going to be people who strongly disagree or find what i prefer to be cringe or unerotic.

the portrayal of sexual intimacy and the approaches taken are as varied as the sexual preferences, appetites, turn ons and turn offs of every day real people. this can either make you freeze up when writing, or free you to realize there is no 100% right way to approach erotic art and anyone who tells you otherwise is a smartass or trying to sell you something. so with no further ado, this post will be exactly what it sounds like so proceed at your own risk.

i'm going to focus less on style itself and more on approach. the first thing is that you don't need to divorce 'fluffy' non explicit intimacy from sexual writing. the exact same style and techniques you use for non sexual intimacy can often be applied to the sexual scenes too. kissing scenes, the chaste restrained touches filled with deeper desire, the linger looks from across the room, the build up to the first moments of vulnerability, the first few kisses, the first 'almosts' are connected to the sexual scenes themselves. it is all the same emotions and tensions. they're only heightened. and for sex scenes that are produced from these build ups are a simple escalation. you only need to expound upon what you've already built. don't view it as starting new and having to figure out how to write a different topic/moment. it's a continuation and all you need to do is use the tools you've already given yourself.

my second tip is to spend time shaping your character's tastes, kinks, turn ons and icks, their secret fantasies, their red lines they won't cross, their pleasure zones, the places they find attractive on others that they like to focus on and stimulate. if you want your sex scenes to feel real and not like it's just a emulation of generic smut or porn, you have to do what you do for literally anything else to make it not feel bland or contrived: character development.

where does your muse like to be kissed? what parts of their body make them feel stimulated, what parts are the most sensitive? not everything is about genitals. a lot of people like their foreplay to start with groping in varying erogenous zones. some are unconventional, some like their ears licked, they want their wrists kissed and sucked, they just want their partner to hold them close etc. the more you practice and explore what feels right for your character, the easier building on that foundation of tension will become.

if you feel awkward you can write the characters feeling awkward too because it often is. sex isn't always erotic or super steamy. it can be funny and awkward or just a natural physical thing happening between two people. focus less on if it sounds good in the first draft and focus more on if it makes sense for the characters, focus on how this moment makes them feel, where they feel their arousal and excitement in their body, how they respond to each other, what this means to them or what it doesn't mean etc. after you have gotten that down, then you edit it. add the prose, use the language that either make sit feel less crude to you or more erotic or more poetic etc.

lets take eliza and grabriella from last time so we can expound upon their previous interaction

it wasn't like she had never seen gabriella before. the first time they had seen each other outside of a dorm room or stuffy lecture hall was at dance club which was too crowded and too loud and was less 'dance' and more 'stand around and bob heads and take up too much space on the dance floor.' but she did remember what gabriella wore. she remembered her cropped blouse with ruffled sleeves and how she hadn't worn a bra beneath it. she remembered that she did dance. she remembered how effortless it looked. and the shorts which hugged her thighs and formed that little indentation that first made her wish she could tuck her fingers beneath the hemline and tug her close. she had denied those instincts then, those unrealized desires. but she wasn't denying it now. because now gabriella was on her mattress, sitting on her knees in only her bra and lacy underwear which evoked that same feeling. eliza imagined hooking a finger just at the waistline and tugging. butterflies swirled in her stomach and static radiated through her at the mere thought because this time she could do it. "you okay?" gabriella murmured. she was smiling. that smile made her feel all the warmth of the brightest stars which whispered she was meant to be here, with her. "yeah," eliza breathed out. she leaned closer and feathered her lips along the other woman's. even with a trembling hand she reached forth and brushed her fingertips at the edges of gabriella's panties. "i'm okay," she promised. she allowed herself to smile and in doing so realized she was already grinning. "more than okay." "good," gabriella kissed her back, one of her hands sliding into eliza's hair as the other tenderly began to caress her bare thigh. "have you ever...?"

"no," she admitted. heat gathered in her cheeks which were turning pinker by the second. her ears must have looked sunburnt and she had to resist the urge to cover her face. "not really...not like this." a pause. she bit at the inside of her lower lip and glanced up at gabriella's soft features. when their eyes met, she simultaneously felt all her muscles relax again. but those damn butterflies kept fluttering within her. "have you?" "once," gabriella nodded. then she smiled, a shyness in her expression which only made her features glow all the more. she reached down and gently grasped eliza's hand. she rubbed her thumb over her knuckles. "just follow my lead," she murmured. "we'll make up our own steps." she slowly guided eliza's fingers beneath the lacy waistband. and then further. until she felt the damp warmth between her thighs. eliza's breath hitched and she almost forgot how to control her lungs. "i think i can figure it out," she replied with a small smirk before she tenderly rubbed the pad of her thumb against gabriella's mound. when the other woman breathed in deep, almost moaning, she knew this was a dance she would happily memorize.

i put the rest below the cut to help the post from being too lengthy. but essentially here we see a continuation of eliza feeling uncertain in new territory but finding comfort and reassurance in gabriella. she might be nervous, but she has no doubts about this woman she's attracted to. rather than just describing one action after the other or focusing only on the biological responses happening, we're delving into the continuation of anticipation, we're showing the gentle push and pull between them. eliza has the desire to take control and give pleasure to gabriella. but she finds herself needing gabriella's guidance and that's okay.

because they met dancing, we can use dancing symbolism. deciding the contrasting language and euphemisms you want to use for your ship will help you broaden how you write the intimacy beyond the physical.

eliza wants to be more dominant we see hints of it here, but realistically someone who is new to a situation will not be able to go straight into that. but, say that there is continued scenes of intimacy between them, after the first time, we would start to let her slowly explore that. perhaps gabriella would coax it out of her, maybe eliza will surprise her. she'll tug her close by her belt loops, she let herself bite at her rather than just gentle kisses. it will happen slowly and surely. and that is typically also good advice for if you want to include more kinky content. the first time people have sex they're not gonna jump straight into that. even if they're experienced in kink they still have to get to know one another and get a feel for each other's bodies, what they do and don't like, etc.

there's further tension to explore if you utilize those intimate scenes correctly, continuing to build and escalate each time upon the previous moments. don't just jump straight to crazy sex. build up to it. let them explore each other and their sexuality together. that is where the steam comes from, the continuation of tension, the excitement of getting to know one another. don't just steamroll right over opportunities for development and sensuality.

anyway that's it folks bc this post is long af. have fun, write freaky shit, write cute shit, write what makes u happy and horny.

[watermelonlovershigh]

can you please write something about reader maybe finding harry's stash of sex toys. maybe he uses them during solo play but she doesn't know about that because they're new to dating and he hasn't shared that with her because he's scared she'll judge him. but when she finds them she has a million thoughts running in her head. not knowing if they were for him or if he uses them on other people. with a cute ending of her being super cool with him using sex toys and doesn't judge him.

Finding Harry's Secret Stash of Sex Toys (SMUT)

AN: love, love, love this idea! it was fun to write. i may, key word, MAY write a part 2 to this. no promises though. keep in mind any mentions of sexuality is purely fictional and not real. hope you all enjoy and don't forget to leave your feedback.

This story contains: periods, mentions of sex toys, sex, confrontation, anxiety, comfort, mentions of sexuality, fluff

{ boyfriend!harry - softrry - au!harry - bi!harry }

word count- 1,744

While searching Harry's bathroom drawers for a period product, you discover his stash of sex toys. After waiting about a week, you confront him with all the questions you have about your discovery.

You and Harry have been together for nearly two months. During this time, you've become well-acquainted with each other; however, they're still certain things that you don't know about one another. This isn't due to any effort in hiding information, but rather because those specific matters haven't yet been relevant in any of your discussions.

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

It's a Friday night, and you're at Harry's house for the evening. He had purchased a pizza, and the two of you were comfortably seated in his living room, savoring the pizza and sipping on wine. About an hour after eating, while watching a film, you excuse yourself to the bathroom. In the bathroom, you realize your periods started and you didn't have any period products with you.

Knowing Harry is a mature adult, you promptly step out of his downstairs bathroom and make your way back to the living room to ask if he by chance had anything for you to use. Otherwise, you'll have to go to the twenty-four hour shop down the street. "Um Harry, do you have a pad or tampon I could use? I’ve just started my period and forgot to bring anything." You linger there, feeling somewhat awkward as you await his answer.

Harry turns to you and replies with a gentle smile, "Yeah, of course. You can go to my bathroom upstairs and look in one of the drawers by the sink. I generally keep period products there for when I have female visitors." God created men, and then he created Harry as an apology, you conclude. He's so fucking thoughtful.

With a sigh of relief, you respond, "Thank you. I'll be quick." You hurry up the stairs and proceed to his bathroom with urgency, fully aware that you're currently free bleeding. Upon entering, you close the door and search through the drawers of his vanity to locate the pads and tampons.

The first drawer you open is filled with floss picks and an electric razor. The second drawer holds additional rolls of toilet paper. However, as you open the third drawer, you're met with an unexpected sight that leaves you speechless. You were hoping to find something to assist your period, but instead, you come across a selection of dildos and butt plugs. When you finally open the fourth drawer, you let out a sigh of relief upon finding the items you'd been searching for.

You take a tampon out and make your way to the toilet to insert it. After you're done, you wash your hands and let your thoughts return to the drawer that's filled with sex toys. Harry has never mentioned having any of these types of items. Despite the many times you've had sex, he's never proposed the idea of incorporating sex toys into the mix. Perhaps, he uses them for his own pleasure, or he might enjoy using them on partners. But if that's the case, why hasn't he brought that idea up to you before?

You make your way out of the bathroom before Harry has time to become concerned and head downstairs to resume the movie together. Upon your return to his side, he asks, "Is everythin' alright?" You had a weird expression on your face that he couldn't quite place.

Trying to play off what you've just seen, you reply, "Yep, yeah, I'm fine. Let's finish the film."

For the remainder of the night, you don't bring up what you discovered in his bathroom drawer, but it never leaves your mind. If anything, you're just curious as to why he has those items. You would never judge his reasoning.

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

A week has passed since that evening you discovered Harry's drawer containing phallic-shaped items and butt plugs. You've been looking for the right moment to bring it up, which has now finally presented itself.

Currently, you're in Harry's bed, having sex. He's on top of you, pounding you into the mattress, while your hands rest on his perfectly round bum. As he begins to thrust more vigorously, your hands slowly slide closer to his crack, and when you accidentally graze his sensitive hole, Harry almost collapses on top of you.

Seeing how much pleasure it caused him, you do it again, this time with purpose. "Oh fuck!" Harry curses as you rub your fingers over his puckered rim.

Taking a deep breath, you bravely ask, "Yeah, does that feel good? Like having your tight hole played with?"

With his forehead resting against your neck, Harry affirms with a nod and softly murmurs, "uh-hu." He only confesses this because it's clear that you're open to touching him there; otherwise, he would've refrained from sharing such information due to his fear of being judged.

Eventually, you get lost in your own pleasure and forget about touching his bum. That is, until you're laid lax on the bed, muscles weak from your orgasm, with Harry laying on top of you. As you both try and catch your breaths, you bite the bullet and ask the question that's been on your mind all week.

"So.... does those toys you have in your bathroom drawer have anything to do with you liking your ass played with?" You really hope your question doesn't come off as rude or too invasive. You're genuinely curious.

Harry's body goes rigid at your question. Then he sits up slightly, looking down at you with confusion. "What?"

With a hint of anxiety in your voice, you explain, "Um, it's just, the other night, while I was looking for a tampon in your bathroom, I opened the wrong drawer and discovered several dildos and butt plugs. I was just wondering whether those items were for your personal use or you use them on other people. But just so you know, I'm not judging you in any way, just curious is all."

Harry falls back down and buries his face in your warm skin, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over him at your accidental discovery of his sex toys. He usually stores them in his closet, but after cleaning them the other day, he had set them in the drawer to dry.

In truth, Harry does enjoy anal play. Ever since he began puberty and started to explore his body, he discovered the pleasurable sensations that can come from anal stimulation. A few years later, he recognized his bisexuality, which, although not directly connected to his enjoyment of anal play, is certainly a positive in the situation.

Unfortunately, he's only had a handful of male partners. Therefore, when he's not able to experience penetration from a real cock, he frequently utilizes one of the dildos he's purchased for himself.

When he was with women, Harry typically didn't mention his liking for having his ass played with, out of concern for being judged. There were a few instances in the past where they'd end up finding out, leading to a mix of reactions—some supportive and others quite judgmental. So, he opted to keep that aspect of himself hidden and relied on his toys for when he craved anal.

Now that you're aware of his secret, he's filled with dread at the thought of your rejection. Yet, he reckons that if you willingly touched his bum during sex, that implies you're not completely against it.

With his warm breath against your neck, Harry reveals, "Um..... yes, they're mine. When I was a teenager, I realized I enjoyed havin' my bum touched. I usually keep it to myself 'cause I've been judged for it before. So....... that's why I tend to use my toys when I am alone. Sorry for not tellin' you."

The quiver in his voice stirs a sadness within you. Him revealing his anxiety about your potential judgment and the criticisms he's endured in the past breaks your heart. You tenderly hold his face and elevate his chin so he can meet your eyes. "Harry, sweetheart, I would never think less of you for liking that. I suspect many men would enjoy anal if they gave it a chance."

You take a deep breath and continue, "I do have a question, though." Harry nods for you to go ahead, so you proceed to ask, "Have you ever used your toys with your girlfriends before? Like, have they used them on you?" If he's open to the idea, you would definitely be eager to make use of his toys on him. The image of fucking him anally with one of his dildos arouses you more than you care to admit.

"There've been one or two times I shared my likin' of anal with ex's who were particularly kind and acceptin', which I appreciated. But in most cases, my partners didn't last long enough after discoverin' my interest in anal play to allow the use of toys during sex. S'also why I keep my sexuality a secret. 'Cause people can be so judgemental."

"Sexuality?" you question cautiously, allowing Harry to explain at his own pace.

"Um yeah, think I was sixteen when I realized I liked boys and girls. So I reckon m' bisexual. But I've only had two male partners. S'why I have so many toys. But I wouldn't say my sexuality has anythin' to do with my likin' for anal, just a bonus I suppose."

You hold Harry tightly in your arms, hoping to express your appreciation for his courage in confiding in you. It's clear that he feels a sense of safety in doing so.

You become aware of his current vulnerability; he's still without clothes, his soft cock positioned between your legs, your bare body surrounding him. The love you feel for Harry is so big that you struggle to find the right words. You also refrain from voicing it aloud out of fear that it may be too early in your relationship to utter such sentiments. So instead, you mummer against his ear, "Thank you for telling me, Harry."

He's on the verge of tears due to your exceptional acceptance. Harry has long struggled to find a girlfriend who fully acknowledges his sexuality and kinks. In his past relationships with boyfriends, he was often judged for his enjoyment of hetero sex, while his experiences with girlfriends led to criticism for his interest in gay sex. This constant judgment made him feel as though he could never succeed in love. However, with you by his side, there's a chance that you'll offer him the love and acceptance that he's been longing for.

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My Masterlist Masterpost

[drdemonprince]

so recently a girl I was hanging out w (we're both trans girls) indicated that she wanted to dominate me in the way I've wanted my whole life but I've never received (mostly not physical, sweet, predominantly psychological, soft, playing w the power dynamics, etc.). Since then I've been feeling some relief but also intense desperation, like I've been starving all my life and I've only just realized, and now the hunger pangs are eating into me.

I was just wondering if this resonates w how you understand kink and where this desperation could be coming from. I'm autistic, so I was wondering if it's desperation for the need to unmask? Or if it's about the shame of having kinky desires, and the relief that comes from getting affirmed that those things are ok? Is it really about a need for care, which I have received very little of my whole life? Or if I'm overthinking it— could I just have a deep gnawing hunger for submission in and of itself, where submission is, for me, as important as breathing?

Of course, I know you can't explain my own emotions, but any insight you have into the tangled web of desire, desperation, hunger, kink, care, relief, autism, trans shit, and isolation would be v v v appreciated. ty dr demon prince :)

I think what you might be responding so strongly to is the opportunity to express a side of yourself that normally has zero outlet. We can call it headspaces, or alters, or escapism, or playing a role, and certainly it has to do a lot with letting go and unmasking -- but the universal human explanation is that who were are is largely socially instantiated, and that it is impossible for us to be certain versions of ourselves without that self being welcomed, catered to, and interplayed with by another person -- the right person, in the right dynamic.

Kink can be so beautiful because it allows sides of ourselves that rarely find expression to interplay with others' also hidden or hard-to-activate sides. With one partner of mine, I get to be a slobbering obedient puppy for their nurturing, yet controlling mommy. Both of us are able to access sides of who we are that feel unreachable in everyday life, or unsafe to express. For them it's a gender euphoric experience that doesn't line up with their day-to-day identity and presentation; for me it's an escape from my mental burdens and the relief of being cared for. Yet it's also deeper. By playing at this long-lasting pet-handler relationship, I get to activate layers of trust and vulnerability with them that it would normally take years of processing and the exact right circumstances to reach. I get to collapse into their arms wailing without having actually been put through any real emotional ringer. I can be completely waylaid with emotion and need and become briefly dependent upon them and let them have full control over my body, without actually having to lose any of my freedom or having to worry about whether they can handle it.

That's just a personal and recent example. But I often feel that within kinky, headspacey social contexts, a different side of me is free to express itself and my ego doesn't have to mediate or hold the reins. I feel the same thing at Furfest, though it's not always sexual. I can just be a friendly, silly, huggy deer, and meet other people for their playful animal/toony energy too. Because we are all just being silly animals, I can relate to people that I might have very little in common with in terms of my day-to-day life. We don't have to talk about work, or our families, or political economy -- we can just dance and get stoned, cuddle and eat snacks, play videogames, compliment one another's outfits, live in the present right before us. all the over-intellectualization that normally separates me from people is just gone, and some more primordial feeling of animal comraderie is there.

And I miss that feeling of ease and friendliness DESPERATELY once furfest ends. It feels at times that when a bond or a social context like this disappears that some essential part of myself has been TAKEN from me. Because it doesn't just dwell within me. I can't just enjoy it alone at home. It has to operate within a living social dynamic.

It may be something like that for you. When I first discovered there was an entire community devoted to erotic hypnosis, my lifelong fetish, the universe seemed to open up with possibility and I was elated. I no longer felt doomed to a joyless daily existence. It turned out I could have real, meaningful fun, connect to other people, do something new that touched new parts of my brain. I could experience some of the sensations I had only ever dreamed about and believed were impossible to realize in actual life. I wanted to live in the hypno world forever (and I did get myself into some weeks-long waking trances that kinda mentally fucked me up because I was in such a frenzy, oops). It's a kind of love, finding your spaces, finding your people, finding the contexts in which some sacred part of you is free. It's a love of yourself, and the other person, and the context -- it's a love of being alive, which is often so sorely needed for those of us who are wired in such a way as regular life is usually unfulfilling or painful.

[shhhsecretsideblog]

For the birth denial asks, what about going to a play or performance and you're in labor the whole time, but you're sucking it up because it's your partners birthday and they really wanted to see it, but your water breaks/ you feel the urge to push just after the last intermission ends

Anon!!!! You beautiful person! This is my fav thing ever and I swear I’ve submitted this exact request to other birth fic writers on here before I started doing my own. So so happy to have gotten this ask. Thank you!!!!

Theatre Birth

We had booked the tickets a year ago; it was a limited run at our local theatre, guest starring our favourite actress, and it just happened to coincide with your birthday. We simply had to get tickets to see this play. So I offered to buy the tickets and we could make a celebratory night of it.

But then I got pregnant.

We completely forgot about the show with all the excitement of the pregnancy, until about two weeks beforehand when we received the tickets in the post. It was awfully close to my due date. You offered to cancel the tickets, or see if we could resell them, but we were both still desperately excited to see this limited performance while we could. I assured you I still wanted to go, it was your birthday treat and we would be fine. First babies are never early.

I didn’t tell you about the braxton hicks contractions that plagued me the day before, or the fact I’d lost my mucus plug that morning. You were too excited; it was your birthday, you had a baby on the way and you would be seeing your favourite actress that evening. I couldn’t spoil your joy, especially not for false and practice labour pains. I just had to ride them out and let you enjoy your day. I’d tell you tomorrow.

I’d managed to hide the grimaces of pain throughout the day, but when we got to the theatre the cramps were coming at such regular intervals I was forced to consider this might actually be the real thing. But we were here now and labour took hours before there would be any need to go to the hospital, so I didn’t say anything. You pulled my arm eagerly through the theatre, excitement sparkling in your eyes for this evening’s performance. Holding my heavy bump, I plastered on my best smile and waddled behind you to find the row with our seats.

The old theatre seats were upholstered in a rough red velvet that itched the backs on my legs and the size of the seats were not designed with pregnant people in mind. Needless to say I was far from comfortable. You flicked through the programme and opened your box of sweets, in a world of your own as we waited for the show to start. I shifted in my seat and rubbed the ache in my lower belly, my bump spread over the tops of my legs because the seat was too narrow to allow it to fully sit between my thighs as it usually did. Another contraction struck and I hissed through my teeth but at the same time the music started abruptly so my flinch was left unnoticed.

I’d thought seeing the play would be a great distraction from the aches and twinges, but as the waves of pain crashed with more and more intensity I couldn’t pay attention to what was happening on stage. The seat was agonisingly uncomfortable, I was sweating in my outfit, and I was regretting all my choices that had led me here. After a long hour and a half Act One eventually finished. You helped me up out of the low chair so I could make a quick dash to the toilet, with the baby so big and so active I was surprised I’d lasted the duration of the first act.

There was a long line for ladies, standard in the small theatre, but as I felt the telltale cramping of the next contraction I pulled the pregnancy card and skipped ahead of the queue. I just felt so full; my belly was tight, the baby was low, and there was so much pressure. I panted silently through the contraction as I sat on the toilet and just as it was coming to an end I felt something give and a splash echoed from the porcelain.

Oh my god, that was my waters… I thought to myself.

I sat there, a little in shock, breathing slowly to calm myself. It's okay. I’ll just clean myself up, head back to our seats to tell you, and then we could make a quick and subtle exit before the play resumed. By the time I had exited the bathroom and awkwardly shuffled along the row to get back to our seats the lights in the theatre were already starting to dim - the next Act was beginning. You offered a hand to help me get back into the chair and I don’t know why but I took it and sat back down on the itchy seat. The music started before I could tell you my waters had just broken, with everyone around us back in their assigned seats all sitting in the dark and facing the bright lights of the stage. Now completely stuck in the middle of a row I couldn’t bring myself to tell you - we couldn’t get leave now, it would mean asking about 15 people to move in order to allow my heavy and labouring body to exit the row and attracting all manner of unwanted attention. Rubbing my contracting belly, I took a deep breath. I just had to get through act two and then you and I could head straight for the hospital after the play. Everything would be fine.

~•~

It was not fine.

Without the cushioning of my waters the baby’s head was rammed against my dilating cervix. The contractions were hitting me every few minutes and I was surprised I hadn’t yet cried out from the pain. I tried to do little things to ease the pain, shifting in my seat or rubbing my belly, but the movement seemed to attract the annoyed glances from people around us. If I just stayed still and breathed through the pain, I was sure I could make it through. Occasionally you’d glance at me, checking I was enjoying the show, and I tried my best to smile through my gritted teeth.

But everything changed when the need to push presented itself. I pulled a sudden sharp gasp and my eyes widened with panic. You softly turned to look at me and your face fell at seeing the pained and panicked expression on mine.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” You whispered in my ear.

“Hooo- nothing…” I breathed quietly, ignoring all my body’s cues that I might need to start pushing.

You placed a hand on my bump and felt the solid and tense surface beneath your fingers. “Are you having contractions?”

“I’m fine… hoooo… just- hold my hand.” I said, determined not to make a scene or attract attention.

Grabbing your hand I turned back to the stage, signalling you to do the same. I could do this, it wouldn’t be much longer and then we can leave quietly. Just breathe and don’t push, I told myself.

I managed to make it through half a dozen more contractions, breathing steadily and squeezing your hand whenever they hit. I could see in my peripheral vision your head turning anxiously towards me whenever I gripped your hand tight. The play felt like it was dragging on and on and on. Surely it had to end soon. The next contraction began to seize, I took a deep breath and released it slowly through the pain but the pressure was quickly building to astronomical heights. I was biting my lips to stop myself making any noise but the occasional whimper slipped through. Without control or permission I felt my body suddenly push. My fingers curled around your hand, my nails digging deep into your skin as I beared down.

Your head snapped towards me and saw my face scrunched and my chin on my chest.

“Oh my god are you pushing?!?!” You stuttered.

I could only gulp a breath as my body pushed again. The baby was right there and I couldn’t hold it in any longer. My legs parted instinctively as I slumped in the chair and lifted my knees. I could feel my lips start to open, forced apart as the head pushed its way out. And yet I remained silent, with only the occasional muted grunt sounding from my throat from a baby that was desperate to be born.

“Stop… y-you can’t be pushing. You’re not in labour… are you?” You were frazzled, unsure what to do. The performers were still on stage, the show continuing, unaware of the new life that was soon to enter the world.

I let go of your hand and scrambled to pull the fabric of my dress up. Diving beneath the clothing I put a hand between my thighs and I felt through my underwear the large round shape of the baby’s head poking out. “Fuck….” I gritted under my breath.

Unable to fully speak or explain, I just grabbed your hand and placed it on the partially crowned head. “Baby’s-coming…mnghhhhhh….” I grunted and succumbed to another push, bearing down uncontrollably with a primal need to birth right here right now.

People around us were starting to notice, but I could pay them no mind. The baby slipped further and further out with every push, filling your hand that had remained between my legs. The full crown was reached in a matter of agonising seconds and then with a sudden loud grunt the head popped out.

It was only then I became aware of the silence and the fact the people on stage had halted their performance and were staring.

[thecreelhouse]

anxiety attack(ing me in real time)

Paring: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: The high of your shared love confessions becomes buried slowly over the following weeks, all thanks to your spiraling thoughts mid-flare up. You begin to believe you’re just not meant to be loved, but Steve has no problem challenging that absurd thought.

This is a follow-up to just a lover. could be read on its own, I guess, but you might be a bit lost. Read on AO3 here.

WC: 2.6k

Includes: hurt/comfort, some very brief smut, language, discussions of painful vaginal sex/anorgasmia, moderately detailed descriptions of some LS symptoms, angst, happier ending

A/N: yesterday (1/17) was lichen sclerosus awareness day, and this fic is a way to cope with quite honestly the worst year of my life with LS, but also a request for a fic with a reader who deals with anorgasmia. I hope it’s alright I combined the two— it helps for me to write about what I know, but I hope this still brings some kind of visibility and comfort to any readers with any sort of vulvar conditions and/or painful sex. love y’all <3 (divider from @/saradika-graphics, and title is from anxiety in real time - the maine)

Of all the torment your body drags itself through, nothing is as devastating as forcing yourself to keep distance from the one you love most.

It’s been weeks since Steve touched you— because you won’t let him. It took one severe flare up, starting a whole new treatment— even discussing surgery with your doctor, as a last ditch effort for your health and sexual wellness— for you to crawl back into yourself.

Beyond embarrassment, the way your body betrays you is isolating. Always has been. Always will be, it seems. Despite finding love in the one person you trust most, the one you’ve always felt safe with, this illness is still merciless. 

You had some hope, maybe, just maybe, after those first few times together— never fully having sex, only what your body could handle— there was a loophole to it all. That it just took being with the right person to be comfortable enough to actually feel pleasure, and genuine love, rather than agony and shame.

This body, though, had other plans. It always does.

Slowly, you drifted away; even if your rooms were across the hall from one another, it felt like you were miles apart.

Steve’s been empathetic from the start, checking in on you and your pain level, taking it day by day, keeping his promise of sharing “lazy days” with you, comfy clothes and all. Sex wasn’t a priority, nor did you believe he was ever that kind of person, but it was destroying you from the inside out that you couldn’t have that intimate connection with him. Not in the way you’d want, without caution beyond protection, losing yourself in the heat of the moment.

It’s as if the emotional wounds from this disease, with all of its life-altering symptoms, continued to get worse alongside your physical health. You used to be able to turn the thoughts off, float away in bliss with your partner, but the negativity only festered, rotting away a corner of your mind to make a permanent home.

Humiliation triggered erosion at the simple concept of only cuddling with Steve, or hugging him. The belief of becoming a disappointment to him seeped into your confidence; maybe you should push him away, so he finds someone better. Someone who won’t be such a let down, or distraught over their body destroying itself.

Your body wasn’t just destroying itself, it was destroying your relationship with your partner, your best friend, too.

Once the spiraling thoughts held strong enough, they were hard to shake. Even the mere thought of Steve holding you made your chest ache. An ache full of want, full of self-disappointment. You wanted to let him hold you, and you wanted to hold him, too.

But it didn’t stop the one prominent thought, driving you further away from him each day:

Some people are built for love— to love, to be loved— and maybe that just wasn’t you.

“That’s it, honey…” Steve murmured, forehead pressed against yours as he pumped a digit into you slowly, gently. You shuddered as a familiar sting drew itself up your slit. “Doin’ okay?”

“Mhm,” you lied, eyes scrunching shut with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. You were losing the tender moment, rather than losing yourself in it, feeling the pleasure slip through your fingers like sand.

“So good for me, so, so—“

Steve’s praise was cut off by an involuntary hiss from the pain; his hand stopped completely, frozen, afraid to move incorrectly and hurt you more.

“Hey, s’okay, we’re stopping—“ He’d cautiously pull his hand away, eyes flickering between his touch against you, and your expression. “… You don’t have your period, do you?”

Your eyes snapped open, falling to his hand; faint streaks of blood tinged the skin of his finger red.

“I’m sorry, I thought—“ Your eyes became glassy with tears, threatening to fall as you shook your head wildly. “I was hoping if I kinda… powered through it, maybe it’d feel better.”

Steve sighed, murmuring a “hang tight” as he slid off the bed, retrieving some clean, warm towels, and a first aid kit. It’s one he decided to make, full of things either of you needed, mainly for your flare-ups during intimate moments; back-up medication and all.

“Why didn’t you say something was wrong?” He kept busy with a tender touch, cleaning off remnants of blood on you. Shame began to swallow you whole, and the tears finally broke. “Hey, I’m not upset with you. I just wish you said something. I hate hurting you.”

“N- no, it’s not you, I promise!” This is where the whirlwind of panic usually tied to these flare-ups begins. “I’m sorry, I was— it’s— I didn’t mean to—“

He gently shushed you, hands warm as they rested on your thighs. “Lay back for me, angel.” You complied, conflicted by how sincere he was caring for you, and how mortifying it was for him to see this part of you. “Be honest if anything hurts, okay?”

With patience and love, Steve applied medication to your agitated skin with a feather-light touch. In time, the sharp sting and inflammation’s throbbing heat began to subside; it wouldn’t go away completely, not for a few days, maybe even a week, at least. This was better than minutes ago, though.

Though you were grateful through the guilt for his help, you hated whenever he had a close look at how fucked your anatomy had become, scarred over time from a majority of your life without a diagnosis, without treatment. The unkind thoughts began to convince you that you must look grotesque to him.

He cracked an instant ice pack, wrapping it in a washcloth before handing it over to you. “Your bed, or mine? Or do you want space?”

Ice pack held to your core, you croak out, “Yours, please.”

Minutes later, you were tucked in next to him, in fresh, loose clothing, physically feeling calmer, but mentally, you were a wreck inside.

“Talk to me,” he gently commanded. 

“It’s- sometimes it’s hard to—“ you huffed in frustration, eyes welling up with tears again. “Sometimes it still takes me longer than I’d like to finish… sometimes I don’t, at all. I thought maybe it was different now that we’re together, but it’s— I swear it’s not you. You know that, right?”

Steve rested his hand on your neck, fingers brushing along your jaw, behind your ear, in slow, soothing movements.

“I know. It’s out of your control. We don’t ever have to do anything.”

“But I want to—“

“And I want you to be safe, and not suffer more than you already do.”

There was no arguing that, not with Steve; you kept your mouth shut, trying to settle into the shared quiet before falling asleep.

Instead, your racing thoughts kept you awake; if you’d ever reach remission, finally feel something other than pain when Steve would touch you, or would he eventually become fed up and leave? You wouldn’t blame him.

Couldn’t hurt to give him some distance… right?

A knock echoes over the shower’s running water, but you don’t react. Instead, you stay curled up on the shower floor, knees pulled to your chest as you sit under the shower head. Body quaking with heaving sobs, you don’t hear the curtain as it’s pulled back, and it takes a few seconds to register arms around you, embracing you with extra care.

“Oh…” You look up to find Steve, leaning into the tub to hold you close, concern written all over his face. “Steve… you’re gonna get your shirt wet,” you mumble, hiccuping in between sobs. 

He laughs lightly, but it’s forced. “I can wash those, it’s— that doesn’t matter. What’s going on?”

You shrug.

“Angel, c’mon, talk to me,” he pleads. “Robin called me, said she could hear you crying from down the hall.”

Well. That’s a pathetic new low.

It hits you Steve’s still in his Family Video vest. “Oh my god— you— why did you leave work?”

He scoffs, exasperated that it’s not obvious. “‘Cause I love you, and you’re way more important than some stupid movies.” Pulling back, he peels his damp shirt and vest over his head, kicking his pants off too. He flounders around on the floor comically, struggling to get his pants off before realizing his shoes are still on.

You snort through your tears, curling his own smile just a smidge.

“Make some room, I’m coming in to bother you.”

That pulls a weak giggle out of you. “You’re never bothering me.”

Steve climbs in next to you, wiping water from his eyes as it hits his face. It’s a snug fit, in this tiny bathtub, but you make it work. He takes one of your hands in his own, gently kissing the back of your hand.

“Will you tell me what’s going on now?”

“Are you happy with me? With us?” It comes out like word vomit, surprising you, and it doesn’t stop there. “Because I— I don’t want you to feel like you have to be with me, if you feel bad, or you’re worried it’ll fuck with our friendship, and the fact we live together, and—“

“Where’s this coming from?” Then he begins to connect the pieces. “Is this why you’ve been so distant?”

You nod reluctantly, adding, “It doesn’t bother you that we can’t have sex?”

“If anything were to bother me about that, it’s the fact that I wish I could make you feel good when you want to.” His hand cradles along the side of your face, molding to your jaw as he sweeps his thumb along your cheekbone. You hesitate from leaning into his hold. “This is all out of your control… and even if it wasn’t, and you just didn’t care for sex, I’d still love being with you.”

Your bottom lip curls into a pout, afraid to let your eyes meet his own. “You’re not just saying that, right?”

“Are you kidding me? I loved you before we started dating, back when the most we did was cuddle. What makes me happy is spending time with my best friend, being in love with my best friend.” Not a shred of doubt lies in his expression. He maneuvers around you awkwardly, but eventually, he’s got your back to his chest, resting against him in the tub.

It’s soothing to have his skin flush against your own; intimacy and compassion without it becoming sexual. As much as you’d like that, it’s good to feel this, that it’s something he’s more than okay with.

“We’ve survived so much, that I’m just happy we’re both here. We’re both alive. I’m content spending time together however you want to, as long as you are.” He kisses your cheek, arms winding around your waist. “Has this been the same flare-up this whole time?”

You nod, sighing. “I kept getting… frustrated that I couldn’t finish, and eventually—“ Pausing, you remember he assured you in the past the gory, unappealing details don’t bother him; he’d rather you talk about it than downplay it. “I’m so mad I can’t experience what I did the first few times we got together. I’m angry I can’t connect with you in this way. It’s not everything, but I’d kill to feel…  normal when it comes to this shit.

“Thought maybe if I tried some toys again, I’d work myself up to do more with you, but that— I just… I’m only making the scarring worse. My skin has been tearing so easily lately. M’close to saying fuck it and getting surgery, ‘cause I can barely feel my clit under all the scars, and I’d really like to just… exist, without my skin tearing and fusing, and infection risks.”

Steve rests his head against the back of yours, asking softly, “What’s the ‘but’ here?”

“… But, there’s a chance it can fail. Worst that happens is… nothing.” Sniffling, you mirthlessly laugh over it all. “I go through surgery, I heal, just for my skin to completely fuse back together… but it’s gonna continue doing that anyway, even with treatment, it seems. So… might as well take the leap, I guess.”

“Whatever you decide, I’m with you, every step of the way.” He turns his palms upward over your lap, and you take the hint, lacing your fingers between his. Squeezing gently, he sighs softly in your ear, tickling your skin, earning a faint smile. “If you ever decide you wanna fool around, you have to be open with me. If you don’t feel good, there’s no point in continuing. And if you decide you never want me to touch you, even outside of sex, I can respect that, too.”

A small sob leaves your lips, shaking your head quickly. “No, I— give me time. If anything, I still wanna cuddle and kiss and all that… maybe more if this flare-up ever fucks off. Just kept thinking maybe if I stayed away, it’d be easier for you.”

“It wasn’t, but I understand you’re hurting. Like I said, I’ll respect whatever you want, but I hope it’s alright to say I missed this, being close like this. I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. We’ll take it one day at a time, okay?” Steve runs a thumb over the pad of your own, grimacing. “How long have you been in here? You’re practically a raisin at this point, babe.”

“Oh, shit. I’m probably using up all of the hot water—“ You scramble toward the faucet, killing the water flow, cringing as you turn back to Steve. “Oops.”

He snorts, helping you up as he stands, too. “C’mon, let’s get in comfy clothes, then we can do whatever you wanna do.”

“Lazy day?” You softly suggest, earning a sincere, half-smile from your partner. He pulls a towel off the nearby rack, draping it around your shoulders before grabbing his own.

“Lazy day,” he affirms, enveloping you back into his embrace.

Though the thoughts try to creep back, it’s easier to shove them aside in his arms. Everything feels certain here. Safe.

While the two of you get changed, your gaze wanders, taking in Steve’s figure before he’s covered up. He’s just so… pretty. Even all this time later, your stomach still flips when you admire how gorgeous he is.

Steve throws a sweatshirt on, catching your less than sneaky stare. You clear your throat, rushing to toss a shirt on while rambling out,  “I really am okay with kissing, though. Like… really, really okay with it. Very okay. A-okay.”

He breathily laughs, pulling you back against him, only to hold you. “If you’re okay with it, I am, too. And if you change your mind, that’s also a-okay.”

“Well…” your hands grip his hips, glancing up with a tiny smirk, feeling more at ease than earlier today. “Just ‘cause I can’t do certain things, doesn’t mean I can’t make you feel good still.”

Blushing, Steve’s eyes widen. “I- I don’t— you don’t have to do anything, that’s not fair to you—“

“What if I want to?” Your question comes out sweet, and it’s genuine; you still love making him feel good, at least. There’s ways to go about that without worrying about your health. “Would that be alright with you?”

“Uh-huh,” he breathes, hyper-aware of your body against his. You lead him over to your bed, gently pushing him back onto it.

“Good.” Crawling up over Steve, it’s satisfying enough to watch how dazed he’s already become. It’s a compromise you’ll gladly take. You brush your lips against his, speaking softly, “‘Cause I got a lot of time and touch to make up for.”

[kateysummers99]

Do you think the WWBM Interacial movement has now got to a critical point where momentum has starting to challenge even the majority of White Women now as far as there choices for relationship ? May we as White Males even lose this group of females to African Men more then we keep ourselves ?

The short answer is definitely yes.

Because of my own personal experiences and also just looking at major social trends, it's pretty obvious that IR relationships (in general, but specifically white girls and black guys) are much more common now than they were 10, 30, and 30 years ago. 

I think there are lots of reasons for this and I’m obviously not an expert (I work in finance, not cultural psychology), but lets just look at the obvious trends:

Girls today are more empowered in general, and especially regarding sexuality and romance. I mention this a lot on this blog, there are less things hold girls back than there used to be. Movies and TV and culture in general are so much more accepting that people can love who they want to love, and that applies especially to society being more accepting of girls expressing their sexuality. I grew up in a time when dating black guys was an obvious but implied no-no, and it's just not the same today. (Note this is NOT true everywhere. Sadly there are racists and homophobes still, but they will probably be holdouts until they die.)

Black men are idolized for their physicality and masculinity by society more and more every day. Sports, music, advertising media, movies, social media and TV shows - you name it, black guys are constantly the icon of masculinity, status and power. This is really true for their masculinity, where we regularly fetishize the sexual prowess of black men in every day culture with phrases like “once you go black you never go back.” 

Porn is free and everywhere. Also something that wasn’t the case when I was growing up, but now you just pick up any cell phone and in a few seconds be privately and anonymously staring at an amazing black man and his huge black cock (or whatever your fantasy is).

Also in the last few years, social justice and institutional racism has become a hot topic, I think a lot of women recognize that the same old white male patriarchy that has been suppressing women since the beginning of time has also been responsible for suppressing Black people. This puts white women and black men on the same side on a pretty deep level, where they see each other in the same existential struggle for happiness against the common enemy that is old white guys.

Another interesting thing that I've read reports about is more and more young white guys who are essentially "staying single" forever, sometimes due to porn addiction. They make a sexual connection with porn that is easy and judgment free, which is the opposite of the real-world dating situation where they deal with complex social dynamics and competition (including trying to compete against more masculine black men who are constantly in movies and music).

So if that's a growing tend... then young women find themselves more free in choosing partners, society idolizing black guys, exposed to IR sex and porn, and more culturally aligned with black guys… and young white guys basically removing themselves from the dating pool.

As for me personally, I have always thought think black guy / white girl couples are the most beautiful -- there's a special passion and primal attraction that goes deep down that you just don't see with other couples.

So yes, I think black guy and white girl couples are definitely more and more popular. I don’t think we’ll ever get to a point where all white men are unwanted forever (sorry white boys who message me, desperate to live in such a world), but I do think increasingly empowered girls and wider acceptance of female sexuality will naturally trend to more black guys and white girls together - which is all beautiful to me :)

[themioka]

Guess this is a bit of a continuation about the rings head cannons I posted.

1. Milo & Sweetheart

100% Milo and Sweetheart helped David, Asher, & Babe with ring shopping (all separate) and nearly drove them all insane from how long it took.

Wore rings years back, possibly 4 years into their relationship. They were out shopping and looked at rings for fun, not expecting to leave with anything. However, after the inversion, both of their rings were badly damaged, possibly even broken in Milo's case. They were never bothered at replacing them right away.

After a few months after the weddings, they went out ring shopping.

Though shifters aren't overly sensitive to any kind of metals, unlike vamps, they can't handle silver. Due to it leaving a burning sensation or irritation behind. So silver is a big no.

They've definitely gotten dressed up and headed out on a date night. The date is them heading to two locations where Sweetheart or Milo would "propose" to one another. Ex: Milo doing the classic dinner proposal or Sweetheart doing the classic beach proposal and people cheering them on from the distance.

They've definitely done a commitment ceremony or have talked about having one.

If you don't know what it is, basically, it's where lifelong partners who can publicly express their love and commitment to one another, all while not having to be legally binded to one another. It's very similar to a wedding or an elopement, but it's a ceremony not recognized by any law or government.

Whenever they're snuggling on the couch or lying down in bed, either Milo or Sweetheart will mess with each other rings. Aggro is obviously in on the snuggles and pets.

They have to lock up any kind of jewelry because Aggro will steal and hide it, which drives Milo absolutely nuts.

2. Darlin & Sam

Similar to Milo & Sweetheart, they had gotten rings a few months after the weddings, though this being their first time.

Unlike Milo and Sweetheart, who went out together in getting their rings, Sam and Darlin went out on their own terms.

Because Darlin is Sam only partner of being a shifter, he didn't know just how sensitive they were to silver and ended up getting one. Darlin of course didn't say anything and would wear the ring despite the burning sensation or irritation it left behind hiding it from Sam.

Used to Darlin's tendencies, He was quick to catch on what was happening, scolding Darlin lightly. Only to go back and forth in trying to convince Darlin of letting him trade out the ring for one that wouldn't hurt them, however, Darlin wouldn't let him going so far to even hide the ring from him. Because let's face it, Darlin still wears that crusty, blood-stained jacket that Sam has given up on it ever being thrown away or replaced.

Sam got tricked by Asher & David into bringing Milo with him when he went out to go buy Darlin's new ring. Not only did he get an earful from Milo about the whole silver ring incident, but Milo also drove him insane during the whole ring shopping.

It was also the day that Sam learned how crazy strong Milo was despite his height, as he found himself being dragged to different clothing stores. Please, let's be real. we all know Milo was starting to go insane just from seeing Sam wearing flannel and jeans 24/7. So not only did Sam come home with a new ring that day but a whole new set of clothes as well. Bonus the others found it hilarious of what had happened.

Darlin has been found a few times fast asleep on the couch, holding both rings close to them. They also have that silver ring safely tucked away to the point Sam convinced they can just pull it out of thin air because not once had he been successful at finding it whenever Darlin puts it away.

Sam will periodically kiss Darlin's hand before kissing their ring finger. it doesn't matter if they have their ring on or off. Sam is a big hand kisser. You can't change my mind.

Both don't care about any kind of ceremony. Whether it legally binds them or not. They're just happy being lifetime partners.

[jennifer-jeong]

Hi there :)

Can I request some headcanons about Xiao and Wanderer (separated) with an old s/o? Like, they've been together for decades, but reader is a mortal and they're not, therefore they don't have many years left to live now that they're in their 80s. I would like something sweet but feel free to add some angst in it.

HI ANON TY FOR YOUR ASK! Ok so I’m literally goiNG TO CRY because I actually purposely make my own self insert immortal because this makes me so depressed but dw I will make it a fluffy happy ending. I would be unwell if I didn’t make it a happy ending LMAO

Fluff + Slight Angst | Xiao/Wanderer x Reader Mortals

CONTENT Fluff, some angst, gender neutral reader, HAPPY ENDING WOO, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

XIAO has been alive for longer than he can genuinely remember and most of it was spent suffering alone. He’s scarred so deeply that even until the end of time, the marks will never fade. He can’t get rid of his past but you came along and he realized he could at least start to heal from the centuries of pain. Your time together has been the best years of his life and it makes his heart ache to think that you’re about to come and go before even living for a fraction of his life. He’s watched your mortal body age but he still thinks knows that you’re the prettiest thing he’ll ever encounter. Xiao has always treated his time with you like it was limited, even when you were younger. He’s been getting desperate recently though, your body has slowed down, and you’re well into your elderly years. He’s always wanted to ask you if he and Zhongli could help you with this, return you to your younger body and help you live forever. But, he thought it would hurt you. Immortality is more of a curse than a blessing and he of all people should know that. But as your health deteriorated, he started to plan how to ask you without pressuring you. Honestly, when he finally brought it up, you giggled at him and said “I didn’t even know you could do that.” He blinked as he realized how much time had passed and how he really had been avoiding it all these years. It was just somewhat unfathomable to a 2000 year old being that all these fun years with you had already been a few decades. He explains why he felt bad suggesting it, but you quickly comforted him and thanked him for even bringing it up. You said you needed some time to think about it but you knew that you wanted more time with your beloved. It’s near impossible for most people to find their soulmate and so since you found yours, you wanted to somewhat selfishly hold onto him as long as you could. Of course he secretly felt the same though. Your time together might end soon as the traveller discovers the underlying mysteries of the world or it could end millenia later. Either way, you knew you’d be able to face it, together.

WANDERER has been through so much over the past few centuries of his life and he’s believed his emotions have been so useless to him as he isn’t even human. His suffering, pain, and desire never made sense because he always lacked a heart. He thought he’d be doomed to this forever until he met you. You breathed life into his mechanical body and into his new anemo vision heart. He felt truly alive with you, it was like he was freshly born as a real man when you came into his life. He took a while to properly warm up to you before he could express himself in a healthy way but you always had the patience for him. The problem was that he couldn’t have the same patience, not because he wasn’t a healthy partner, but because your life had a definite end. He was impatient because he couldn’t lose you and he didn’t know what else to do. He consulted Nahida/his mom about it and she suggested using his body as a template to create a body for you. One that would last forever with him. He was immediately overjoyed to hear that there was hope and he almost forgot to consider that you might not want to live forever. He probably tries to gauge if you would want to by prodding you with small questions but you see straight through him. You know something’s up, and you tell him that you know there’s enough trust between you two for either of you to speak freely. So he does. You take some time to debate it and decide to do it because even if at some point you can’t take it, you’d talk to him about it and come up with a solution (but you doubt that'll come up <3). There was a lot going on in Teyvat at the moment but just knowing that you’d have more time gave both of you peace. He was worried that afterwards you might not be the same, and that you might become emotionally hollow. But you knew that with him there, you’d never feel any less alive. Even without your physical body, you both had your souls, and it was all you’d ever need.

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[rallamajoop]

On Mia Winters, misogyny, and abuse

As should be pretty obvious by now, I love Mia Winters. I honestly think she’s one of the most compelling characters in this whole damn franchise.

But let me make clear: you don’t have to love her. Mia’s canonically done a lot of shady shit in her time, and her relationship with Ethan has real problems. There are perfectly viable interpretations where the only thing really holding it together is his own denial. Only I never seem to get to read any of those takes, because the most common characterisations Mia gets in fic are an irredeemable monster, or a cardboard cutout who exists only to be written out as quickly as possible. And to write Mia out to that degree doesn’t just do her character a disservice, it does Ethan a disservice, and a big one.

The amount of Mia-bashing I see out there in this fandom turns my stomach. It’s not just the slash fans who’d rather ship Ethan with another dude. I have seen Mia loudly bashed in tags on het or gen fic in which she does not even appear. I have seen male fans reviewing these games on youtube who treat her the exact same way. But it’s never more frustrating than when that hate comes from the same fans who’ll turn around and talk about characters like Chris or even Lady Dimitrescu (she who canonically abuses her and murders her servants, and, y’know, eats people without a shred of remorse) like they’re perfectly forgivable and have done no real wrong. And don’t get me wrong: I love Lady D, but I love her because she’s magnificently evil. Mia? Mia’s a whole lot more complicated.

But to really explain why this hate makes me so uncomfortable, I’m going to have to start with the start of Resident Evil 7, and Mia’s very first scenes in this whole franchise.

Let me quickly summarise the opening of that game. A man whose wife disappeared without explanation suddenly gets a message about her whereabouts. He travels to an isolated location, breaks in, and finds her. She denies ever sending him that message, and seems incredibly distressed that he’s there at all. They fight. It ends with him sinking an axe into her neck and shooting her several times with a handgun. But see, he didn’t do anything wrong! It was all self-defence! She started it! She was acting crazy!

If you didn’t spot it, the whole opening of RE7 reads uncomfortably like a story about a woman escaping an abusive relationship, then being tracked down and murdered by her ex.

Obviously, I am not here to tell you Ethan’s abusive. He’s not, we’ve got no reason to imagine he is. He was legitimately acting in self-defence.

But the fact the first thing Ethan has to do in this game is find the balls to kill his own wife ‒ that a whole new era of Resi games has opened with a sequence so easily read as a sympathetic justification for how a man might perfectly innocently track down his missing spouse and "have" to kill her – that made those opening minutes into by far the most uncomfortable part of this whole franchise for me. Shit like this really happens. I mean it, I will track down the fucking statistics on women who are murdered after trying to leave an abusive partner if I have to.

What happens to ‘Mia’ in the opening to RE8 isn’t much better: it's as textbook a fridging as any I’ve ever seen. Yes, it’s a fridging that gets retconned away later when she turns up alive, but the fact that’s even possible speaks to just how awful and confusing her death is. The game opens with Mia’s violent murder at the hands of this series’ longest running ‘hero’, and the event is framed entirely in terms of how awful it is for her husband. That's as frigid as a fridging gets.

The eventual reveal that the real Mia was just trapped alone in a cell being experimented on by a madwoman for god knows how long doesn’t actually make it better. The horror Mia goes through in both these games is a footnote, barely explored.

I bring these events up not to condemn the RE franchise, not to say that including these sequences was unconscionable, or that violence against women can never be shown in a horror title. A quick glance at my tumblr should demonstrate how much I adore these games. Tropes like fridging become problems only because they’re so ubiquitous they can come to define almost the only roles women get to play, not because any individual example is necessarily grounds for outrage. If anything, there’s just as much to analyse in all the hate thrown at characters like Ethan Winters (or his predecessor, Jonathan Harker) as a archtypical examples of sexism against men – backlash against the very idea of a male character in the disempowered role of horror victim, usually reserved for women.

But with this context in mind, my god is it uncomfortable to see people talk about Mia as irredeemable monster who deserves to suffer more. People who will valorise the likes of Chris Redfield, who didn’t even bother to stop to tell Ethan that’s not Mia, yet talk about Mia like being shot to death in her own living room was only what she deserved. That is just a whole load of yikes.

And given that both games open with Mia being violently killed by a male protagonist (twice in RE7, with the player in control), it sure is convenient how so many people have managed to ‘find’ the evidence that proves she’s the real villain. You don’t have to think too hard about Chris Redfield as a violent maniac or Ethan Winters being forced to kill his own wife if it’s okay to inflict violence on this woman. “Yes, but she shouldn’t have done [X]…” or even “But what if she’s the real abuser” is a narrative that gets thrown at real women in abusive relationships all the time – especially when the man is a friend of whoever’s casting judgement, or even a celebrity. Real world examples of this shit in the wild run the gamut from wild fan-takes on The Shining ‘proving’ that actually the abused wife was the ‘real’ abuser all along, right up to the ongoing hate campaign against Amber Heard. People don’t want to have to think badly of someone they admire, and will take any excuse to shift the blame. The stakes are infinitely lower when we’re talking about fictional characters, but the same pattern plays out.

And look, I do get it. It’s easy to go into these games and come out with a negative opinion of Mia. She’s the one who lures you into danger in RE7, acts all innocent, and then comes at Ethan with a chainsaw – and when you finally find out her big secret at the end, it turns out she was working for the people who created Eveline from the start! You’re really not given a lot of reasons to invest in Ethan and Mia’s relationship before she’s suddenly coming at him with a knife, and the fact she never does get to come clean to him in canon leaves a bad taste in the mouth.

It’s really easy to go into RE8, note all the glaring signs that Ethan’s relationship with Mia isn’t healthy, and draw your own conclusions about a woman we don’t hardly even see again for most of the runtime of the game. Half this goddamn fandom still seems to think Heisenberg is actually a lycan, ffs – most of what people think they know about Mia is more meme than fact, and the rest is pretty surface level. Basic media literacy is not exactly high out there in the tumblrweeds (let alone the rest of the internet).

But as for the idea that Mia’s responsible for all the horrors Ethan went through, people seem to forget that Mia herself went through so much worse. Ethan spent a day in the Bakers’ property, and a day in the village. Mia spent years trapped in the Bakers’ property, and days at least imprisoned in Miranda’s lab, knowing exactly how much danger her family were in, helpless to save them. She’s no innocent herself, but ye gods has she already suffered for her crimes.

So with all that out of the way, well, what’s the actual ‘evidence’ that Mia herself was abusive? No-one's coming into this one without some bias, but let’s at least give it a fair shake.

Right upfront, I want to recognise that in both fiction and reality, women can be abusers, and men can be victims. Abuse in heterosexual relationships is far more likely to occur with the man as the abuser, but the reverse does happen, and the fact culture at large can be so eager to cast the woman as the villain doesn’t make it any easier for the real male victims of abuse to get recognition and help. Society as a whole is still just really shitty about enabling or excusing real abuse.

But the idea that Mia was abusive has very little to back it up. Whatever you make of “her” interactions with Ethan at the start of the game, the fact remains: that’s not Mia, and the fact she’s acting so strangely is meant to be our clue that something much bigger than a little marital strife is going on here. Knowing all this doesn’t really make the scene where she’s violently executed less disturbing, but you can’t miss the hints we don’t yet know the full story.

So the question becomes, is there any evidence that the real Mia was abusive? I’ve dug into this one a bit before in my post about trying to figure out the timeline of exactly when Mia was replaced, but there are no definitive answers as to how long Miranda's been living in their house. To summarise a long post (and a surprisingly lively timeline of events from the days before the game begins): the most likely intent seems to be that Miranda’s been posing as Mia for less than a week, though a lot of the vibes of the scene give me the impression it’s been several weeks at least. Ultimately, that’s going to come down to your own interpretation.

The Mia mentioned in Ethan’s diary who blew up at him at the hospital could be the real Mia, but more likely isn’t: you can’t really use her to argue anything definitive, one way or another. The Mia from the flashback where Ethan gets the call from Rose’s doctor is the real Mia, but if you think getting upset when your husband brushes off your obvious distress over your daughter’s health makes you abusive, then nothing I say here is going to convince you otherwise.

The only ‘real’ evidence that Mia might be a problem is one line you might hear from Ethan while taking Rose to bed, and it is admittedly a red flag: your mother’s scary when she’s angry.

And to anyone whose whole hatred of Mia has been built backwards from this one line – especially anyone who’s grown up in a dysfunctional household themselves – hell, I get it. It is one really yikes thing for Ethan to say about his wife.

But in Mia’s defence, I can only point out that, well, yes, canonically, she is scary when she’s angry.

Oh, did I say angry? I meant fucking possessed.

And if Ethan’s bringing up the spectre of that time, even subconsciously, maybe that should be an even bigger clue that the Mia in this house right now isn’t Mia.

But what really shows this line for what it is is that we’ve seen the real Mia angry. We’ve seen her cold fury at Eveline, daring to go right back to asking ‘can we be a family now?’ within hours forcing Mia to assault her own husband with a chainsaw. We’ve seen her frustration at Ethan’s own denial, and we’ve seen her stalk out of the room when he blows off an important conversation for a call from work. We’ve seen her advance on Chris after he shut her down, demanding, Where is my husband? Where is my daughter?!

We have never seen her angry without real justification. Her anger is neither violent nor disproportionate. It’s consistently purposeful, focused, and contained. There is nothing scary about the real Mia’s anger, unless you’re threatened by the very idea she might have something valid to be angry about.

There is evidence of tension in the Winters’ marriage from before Miranda’s arrival, but it takes a very different form – most evident in the flashback scene where Ethan receives the call from Rose’s doctor. Far from Miranda’s brusque, dismissive copy of her, the real Mia is anxious and depressed, scared of what Rose’s results might reveal. Here, Ethan’s the one brushing her concerns aside (“We talked about this […] Rose is fine!”) He recognises there seems to be something Mia’s not telling him, says they should talk about it, but then immediately brushes the conversation off when he gets a call from work, while Mia storms out of the room.

You can certainly read Mia as a hypocrite here, getting angry at Ethan for not knowing things she’s deliberately kept from him. But it’s Ethan who decides a call from work is more important than a conversation with his wife – someone who is obviously distressed, canonically still on a regime of drugs after the traumatic events of RE7, very likely suffering PTSD along with Ethan, and maybe even some form of postpartum depression. We don’t know anything about Ethan’s work, so there’s no point in speculating about how much he ‘needs’ to take that call. Mia’s no clear villain here – quite the opposite.

Personally, I tend towards taking this scene as evidence that Mia has tried to talk to Ethan about what really happened to him, but hasn’t managed to get him to face the truth. For all that Ethan supposedly wants to talk about the past, it’s a defining plot point that he’s badly in denial himself.

Or they could both be at some fault here: Ethan unwilling to face the truth, while Mia is reluctant to force him to face something she knows will hurt him and bring him distress. Even when Mia says outright that she ‘tried to keep this a secret, but…’ to Chris at the end of the game, the implication is as much that she’s tried to keep it a secret from people like Chris, who might decide Ethan is dangerous. She’s lied to protect him before, and if she’s still lying to him about her past with the Connections, then the fact that knowing the truth will hurt Ethan is obviously among her reasons. Protecting Ethan has always been among Mia’s top priorities ‒ even at her own expense.

The only other real hints we get about Mia’s inner life come from the glimpses of her we get in Donna’s domain. But I’m hesitant to read too much into these, given how unclear it is how much is just a manifestation of Ethan’s own anxieties. If anything, the ‘Mia’ in these scenes almost seems to have some far worse secret than simply having not told Ethan something he really ought to have put together on his own, and I’d kind of love to see that explored too – at least as long as that goes somewhere more interesting than round umpteen of ‘and that’s why Mia sucks’.

But my point here isn’t that you have to read any of these scenes the same way I do. I do think it’s important to recognise that nothing written for a game like RE is truly character-driven; scenes exist to serve the plot far more than to reflect consistent character motivations or hold up to fridge logic (which, let’s face it, is the real reason for most of Chris’ horrific behaviour in this game, let alone anyone else’s). The result is rarely super consistent, and leaves ample space for multiple interpretations of anyone’s motivations. Regardless, the idea there’s any hard evidence that Ethan and Mia’s relationship is dysfunctional, or that whatever’s wrong is Mia’s fault alone, is going to be incredibly hard to justify.

Any assertion that Ethan and Mia are somehow on the verge of divorce also needs to be weighed against the masses of evidence of how much they love each other – the number of times Mia has said she loves Ethan, up to and including (yes, I’m bringing this up again) how ready she is to die for him in RE7. Her speech to Chris at the end of RE8 states explicitly that being together with Ethan and Rose is the only thing that matters to her. “Mia, I’m sorry, I love you,” are some of the last words Ethan ever speaks – and I can’t help but read into how the moment he finally pushes Rose into Chris’ arms so they can get away with him weighing them down is right after he learns that Mia is alive, and thus implicitly that Rose won’t be alone if Ethan doesn’t make it. And good god does that scene break my heart every time.

It’s worth recognising that the fact Ethan and Mia love each other doesn’t inherently mean their relationship is healthy, or that you have to love them together as much as I do. Like I said up top, you don’t have to like Mia, and you don’t have to justify not liking her if you don’t. I would genuinely like to see fics where Mia and Ethan’s supposedly-necessary break up feels in character. Where Ethan loves her but just can’t deal with the resentment and the fallout over all the lies she told him, where he's been clinging to his 'happy ending' with Mia after surviving the Bakers so hard he can't face the fact things just aren't working, or where he’s having to face that their relationship only ever really worked because she was away so much. It will break my heart, but fiction is allowed to do that.

But god, it would be nice if people could just take the bashing below an eleven around this place. The number of times I’ve had to sigh and back-button out of reading something, because yet another author has decided to project their own hatred for Mia onto the husband who’s still reeling from watching her being violently murdered in front of him… it gets fucking old, y’know?

I would really like to think that in the year of our lord 2024, fandom would be a bit past this thing where they bash the canonical female love interest in the name of shipping the hero with another dude. People will bend over backwards to try and cast Heisenberg and Chris as guys who really care about consent and worry about Ethan getting hurt, because heaven forbid anyone be caught shipping something slightly problematic. And yet misogyny still somehow gets a pass.

You do not have to love Mia. You don’t even have to like her. But ye gods, the hate she gets is baseless and absurd.

Hasn't this poor woman suffered enough?

(And on that note, I promise I am finally done soapboxing in defence of Mia Winters, thank you for bearing with me for this long.)

[scara-meow-che]

Dainsleif's dick being infused with abyss energy(?) like his arm-

Like yea Tartaglia's last form's dick, yeah Ito's oni dick, yeah zhongli's dragoon dick,but what of Dain???? That shit must be magical 😩

⦿ 𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗟𝗜𝗩𝗘 ┃ eyes up here princess with dainsleif

CW. NSFW (MDNI), big dick! dain, fem! reader, use of words (princess), established relationship, teasing, first-time sex, implied oral, sex w/out penetration (thigh job and dick job? is that even a thing? idk, just read it to find out), dirty talk, magical dick (i am NOT sorry), mention of abyss princess lumine

AN. the new archon quest 🧍🏻‍♀️ it felt like a fever dream and it's a whole ass year again before we get to see this man so i am making it my mission to let him and his abyss-energy-fused dick live in my mind rent-free. also, if the anon that sent me this is still here to witness me posting this, hello :D this took me by surprise bcs i planned it to be short but here we are ig

it wasn't every day that you get dain's attention all to yourself.

you would often see him somewhere, busy, as always. sometimes, you would find yourself conversing with a few locals when dain tries to do things on his own as he would reason out that it's for your own safety. or you'd be up and about some part of the region searching for the abyss princess as to what he currently puts as his top priority.

these repeating turn of events would, most of the time, make you question whether you really matter to him seeing as he's always invested in things unrelated to you or what interests you. you don't ask too much from him but sometimes, a little attention would be nice, or have him answer all the questions that run inside your head.

yet, when dain would see that familiar expression painting your face as you make your bed for the night, he would put everything on hold and indulge more in what you'd request. he does make up for you, well, you have no complaints when he does because he'd always be there in a heartbeat for every beck and call.

hence why you're laid out on your bed, legs spread out with him toying with your already sore clit.

the idea of having sex had never once danced in between each conversation you'd have with dain. you'd rather spend the time to catch up on each other's day and sort out a route to where you both want to go next. it never fazed you when some people asked how your relationship with dain is going, not even bothered when some old women from liyue dramatically gasped as you've never been that intimate with your lover.

as the tension builds up throughout the months of overhearing people gossiping about their partners or be the victim of a drunk local telling you the tale of their sexual escapades, it draws out some images in your head. would dain be like the same as those oni's you've heard about? or have an impressive length similar to this one tale about a dragon lord? heck, would he have a dick that grows unrealistically big just like with the harbinger that you've heard about?

but who fucking cares anyway? you're about to get the real deal right now.

"what a curious mind you have there, princess." dain mindlessly mused as he press soft kisses along your thighs, leaving you breathless as he presses himself closer to your aching core. you can feel the heat from the big hard tent on his pants as he rubs himself to the dampness of your cunt. "i thought that eating you out could already satiate your pretty little head but you still want... what? what is it that you want from me again?"

he taunts, amused when he hears a cry from your disheveled form. "ah, didn't i say to tell me if you want something?"

"but it's embarrassing to say it!" you can't even fully reason out how humiliating it is for you to casually ask him that you want to see his dick as you let out another moan when he lightly thrusts his clothed cock on your core. he doesn't even let up, continuing his cruel pace in rubbing his aching dick on your already sensitive clit.

"p-please! i just, a-ah, want to see your d-dick!"

"say what again, princess?"

having enough of his teasing, you went to give your best in bending your body just to reach the big tent on his pants. "i want to see your dick dain and... i want you to fuck me, please."

you can feel a rush of heat all over your skin, your eyes quickly darting to the side to avoid dain's amused pair. a chuckle was all you heard before you felt his hands gently laying you down back to bed. in response to his pleased titter, you scoffed and gave him a quick glare.

"i'm sorry but you're just irresistible when you're so honest with me." he paused as he takes a sharp intake of air when he pulls out his leaking cock from the confines of his pants.

your eyes widen at the sight. no, it's not because he's as big as what you heard like the one of an oni or he has that delicious curve like that of the dragon cock but it's because the hue is unlike any other, the dark blue pulses as beads of white litters on the tip. fuck, when dain gave his dick a quick stroke, you can see how it grew a bit larger in his palm.

you drool just by imagining how it would feel inside of you.

"eyes up here, princess." he gave your thighs a light smack, pulling your attention back up before you felt the cockhead rubbing so gingerly on your little nub, smearing your cum on your lower lips.

"you're so eager for me, huh?" he can feel you trembling the more he pays attention to your aching core, gliding the head back and forth your lower lips, enough to push the head inside your hole but easy for him to just pull right back out. he's testing out the waters, waiting for more of your reactions and he could only see you enjoying yourself being please with the tip of his dick.

"just look at you, so wet and ready for me." and you are, feeling your arousal pool and spill right out of your needy hole while dain keeps making a mess out of it. your hips desperately buck right up, chasing for the head but he kept you pinned down on the soft mattress as he continues teasing you.

"dain, please, want to feel more of you." your hand went to grab his arms, giving it a light squeeze that you knew would get him to listen to you.

but it did the complete opposite.

"didn't you say that you want to see my dick?"

before you could argue back, dain had gently straightened both your legs upward, his strong arms locking you in place before pushing the dark blue cockhead in between your thighs. "been wanting to do this for so long," he uttered with a low groan, his body shivering when he thrusts his cock in the middle of your soft flesh, the rushed and hasty movements of the head prods at your clit. "you look so pretty like this, just letting me use you."

you gasped for air when he purposely prods at your puckering hole, angling his abyss-energy-fused cock to dive in and out of your thighs. your eyes caught a glimpse of how each streak of white glow, the nerves pulsing as he ruts himself so needily on you.

"so keep your pretty eyes on me and maybe, if you managed to do so, i might just give you what you want."

and you did, you desperately tried your best to keep looking at dain and just watching how he use your thighs to get off. it was a rare sight to see dain lose himself, tottering over the warmth and softness that covers his dick.

at first, he was scared that he might scare you off, thinking how unusual his cock looks. compared to what he thought you'd prefer to see in between your legs, about to rail the innocence out of you, his was far off the scales.

but when he saw your eyes almost sparkled when he pulled out his dick, hands so damn eager to touch him, and both your lips spilling out how much you want more of him just sends him over the edge. his pace quickened the more he stares at your needy form, enjoying the way your eyes fluttered close whenever he brushed against your hole before proceeding in sliding his cock back on your thighs.

"i'm so close, fuck, you feel so good 'round me like this, princess." and fuck, yes, you can feel more of his pre-cum ooze around the head and coats more of your already slick skin. it felt so dirty, so filthy to watch him fuck himself with your thighs and you felt dirtier when you were enjoying how his large dick, fused with the same abyss energy as his arm, slides back and forth your thighs.

"cum for me please," you whispered, urging your lover to release his load on your skin. within seconds, dain stopped his thrusts as he buried his cock between your legs, pressing it tighter as he shoots his load on your flesh, slowly having the thick globs of his cum drip down on your core.

while dain goes to steady his breathing, you went to open up your legs to see how much cum had covered your body, the scent of sex causing your head to fizzle out that you had nothing in your mind but the need to see his dick filling you up.

dainsleif was shocked when you went to reach out for his cock, the keenness in your eyes captivating as you focused on his dick.

"wanna see how it looks as you fuck me." your request came like a cry, a whimper of desperation. and you can feel the way dain's dick twitched on your hand.

you're going to be the death of him.

⠀⠀scara-meow-che © 2023 ┃ do not copy, modify, or repost ANY of my content

[willsimpforanyone]

Hey! I was wondering if you could do a poly!solangelo x child of eros!reader smut? And there was this tiny bit of angst since reader is the child eros and well, ya know what happened last time nico saw eros/cupid? Thanks!!!!!!!!:D

i can do that, thank you for waiting so patiently! as per usual, everyone in this fic is in their 20s at least as they have their own apartment and no one below 25 can afford that shit

reader will use they/them pronouns and generally i don't refer to genitals unless the ask specifies them

hoo boy this got away from me

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

I draped myself over the back of the sofa, arms flung around Nico's neck. "Hey gorgeous, how're you?"

The flinch he gave, no matter how hidden, didn't go unnoticed. He didn't say anything and I immediately pulled away. I walked round to the front of the sofa, sitting at the end with a good two feet of space between me and my boyfriend.

"You okay? Do you not want to be touched?" Which I was fine with, it just meant I'd go and find Will to lean on- being a child of Eros meant I was somewhat touchy and that wasn't always okay with people.

Nico shifted uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact. "Hm? Yeah, y-yeah, I'm fine."

Bullshit.

"Bullshit, what's wrong?"

He shot a glare at me and seemed to immediately regret it, curling in on himself and tucking his head into his hands. I hesitated, slowly getting off the sofa. "Alright, I'm going to get Will, because this looks like I've done something and I don't know how to get you to tell me."

I made it almost to the door when Nico sighed. "Wait, come back, I-" His voice was thick, like he was swallowing tears. "-I can tell you, you don't have to get Will, just... c'mere, okay?"

Carefully, I returned to my seat on the sofa, clasping my hands together to resist holding his. Nodding, I waited patiently for Nico to explain.

After a moment, he turned to face me. "It's not your fault, I know that, but sometimes... sometimes it sucks that I never... for fucks' sake!" Nico dragged his hands through his hair. Instinctively I reached out, only to pull my hand back. Nico liked touch on his terms, and I would be a really shitty partner if I didn't respect that.

Instead, I cleared my throat. "Neeks, not to push you, but you're not making much sense."

Nico nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I know, sorry, um." He took a deep breath.

"Do you know what day it is?"

"Yeah, it's-" Oh. Oh, shit, it's a real bad anniversary. "Oh, fuck, Nico, I totally forgot!" I jumped off the sofa and made to leave. "I'll- I don't know, go for a walk or go to someone's house, of course you don't want to be around me-"

Nico practically leapt across the sofa to stop me leaving. "No! No, don't go, I'm not mad at you, I'm not, I swear." My hand was tightly grasped in his and it took everything in me not to melt. I let myself be led back onto the sofa.

"I'm not mad, it's just a bit difficult when someone you love was created by a god who ruined your life, y'know?" He gave a watery laugh. "Well, one of the gods that ruined my life."

I gave a small smile. "I get it, Neeks, I do, but I need you to be honest with me, okay?" He nodded, and I continued. "Would it make it easier if I just... left, for today? Go over to to Piper's or something?"

Nico wiped at the tears welling in his eyes. "Please, don't go. I love you too much to let your dad get in the way."

There was a pause, and we both burst out laughing.

"Oh my gods, that's such a weird sentence!" I cackled, and Nico buried his face in his hands to hide his smile.

"Wow." His voice was muffled but sounded less like he was going to burst into tears.

"What happened?" Will's head poked round the door, sunny smile directed at the pair of us.

I shook my head. "Nah, just realising that my existence is awkward."

Nico half-heartedly slapped my leg. "Hey, no, your dad's existence is awkward." We began giggling again.

Will waltzed into the room, pressing kisses onto the tops of our heads. "Ah, I see, that time of year, huh?" Wow, he catches on quicker than I do, apparently.

Nodding, Nico slid over to me to make space for his other partner. "Yep, I shall be mourning the fact that I didn't get to come out on my own terms for the rest of the day, just so you know." Will flopped onto the sofa and I immediately reached out, grabbing his hand so I was touching both of them.

"Well," Will began. "Thanks for the warning, honey, but you don't have to do that."

"I will, though, it's not really my choice." Nico gave a small rueful smile.

Will looked at me with an eyebrow raised. "I mean, I've sort of had an idea hidden in the depths of my mind for a day such as this."

Both Nico and I perked up, curious. Nico shifted until he was facing Will, back leaning against my side. "Sounds dangerous, but go on."

Clearing his throat, Will played with my fingers. "It's sort of a... roleplaying... thing." I raised my eyebrows back at him, and he shrugged. "Look, just something to make Nico feel like he's just... experimenting, unsure of his sexuality and hasn't come out to anyone yet."

I couldn't judge Nico's expression, but he hadn't turned to stone which I took as a good sign. His ribs vibrated against me as he spoke. "I'm... curious, continue."

Will sat up straighter. "Okay, um, something like we'd picked you up from a bar or something, convinced you to come home with us, allowing you to experiment with us, have us experiment with you, just stuff that a closeted gay might be interested in but without any potentially toxic fallout."

Pretending to take home an innocent Nico and letting him explore exactly what he wants? I couldn't lie, that was a pretty good idea as long as Nico was into it.

Very carefully, I tuned into Nico's body language. One of the weird little gifts I had from Eros was being incredibly attuned to body language and what it meant for each person. Will had gone from somewhat nervous to more confident when Nico had said he was interested.

Nico's shoulders were loose, his fingers interwining with mine, his heart was pounding and there was a red flush creeping down his neck. Without seeing his face, I could fairly confidently say he was interested in this idea of Will's.

Fidgetting slightly, Nico swallowed. "Hypothetically, when would you want to do this?"

Will shrugged. "I mean, the point of this exercise is to distract you, give you positive memories of before you came out." There were air quotes around the last four words. "So, hypothetically, if you wanted, we could start now." He paused. "Obviously you'd be able to safeword out of it at any time, you know that, right?"

Nico was nodding before he could catch himself. "Y-yeah, Oedipus."

Will made eye contact with me. "Hey, you down for this?"

I grinned. "Oh, so very down, baby."

Lifting himself off the sofa, Will reached for me. "Okay, Neeks, we're going to go out to the kitchen, then we'll come back in after a minute or so and get started, alright?" I took Will's hand and together we left Nico on the sofa.

My skin was buzzing, but I let Will lead me into the kitchen.

"Hey, Will?"

"Yeah, honey?"

I swallowed. "Can I kiss you?"

Will grinned. "Feeling a little deprived of affection, are we?"

Rolling my eyes, I pulled him closer, letting his hand go in favour of wrapping my arms around his waist. "Please?"

In answer, Will pressed his lips against mine. I surged forward, delighting in finally being allowed to touch and kiss and feel someone against me. Will's hands cradled my head and I melted into him, transferring all the desire to touch Nico in the last twenty minutes or so onto Will.

He pulled away, laughing lightly at my whine, and pecked my nose. "I know, babe, but we have a baby gay out there, waiting to be shown the ropes, isn't he worth cutting this a little short?"

That sent a shiver down my spine. "Yeah, absolutely, come on." I dragged Will into the bedroom, the pair of us searching for a couple things to lay out on the bedside table before Will caught me in one last kiss.

The trip from the bedroom to the living room was the longest journey in the world. Nico was standing by the mantlepiece, pretending to admire the picture of me and Will on holiday. He'd strategically put all other photos with him in them to face down- he was into the game and I was delighted to see him invested.

Will strode forward. "Hey, you like our home?"

Nico nodded. "It's lovely." His eyes ran over the cheesy rainbow flag bunting we put up last year and never took down. "It's great that you're so open in who you are, too."

I slung an arm over Will's shoulders. "Thank you, hun." I took a slight risk. "You could be too, y'know."

Shaking his head, Nico folded in on himself. "Maybe. Not right now, though."

Sidling up to him, I nudged his shoulder. "No, of course not, it's just us right now." Nico leaned slightly into my side and I looked back at Will, as if to ask him something.

He came up on the other side of Nico. "So, me and my partner were wondering, of course you can say no, it's just a suggestion, but-"

I interrupted. "Get to the point, darling."

Will pretended to glare at me. "What am I supposed to do," he hissed, just loud enough for both Nico and me to hear. "Just tell him we want to fuck him? I have manners!"

Nico coughed lightly, and both Will and I froze as if we'd been caught.

"Y-you..." Nico swallowed, trying to keep the smile off his face. "You want to- fuck me?"

I sighed, gently turning Nico to face me. "I'm not gonna lie to you, we may have had an ulterior motive in offering you a place to stay for the night, but that doesn't mean you owe us anything, okay? If you don't want to, then we can order pizza, watch a movie and make up the sofa for you to crash on."

Will, careful not to spook Nico, wrapped his arms around his waist from behind. "But, if you want to, my partner and I would love to..." He paused, considering his words. "...make you feel good, darlin', in any way you'd like."

Nico took a shuddering breath, trying to hide how much this idea was affecting him. "I-I don't know what I'd like, I've never been with..."

"That's alright, honey." I reached up and tucked his dark curls behind his ear. "We can help you figure that out, if you'd like." He looked at me with such trust in his expression I almost caved. This was the innocence that was hidden from him, but was still there, it just needed a little coaxing to come out. "So, what do you say, handsome?"

Under the careful ministrations of both me and Will, Nico relaxed and nodded. "O-okay, yes, I'd like that."

A grin spread across my lips and I trailed my hand from his cheek, along his neck, down his arm and twisted my fingers in his. "Then come this way, we'll take care of you, we promise."

I led the three of us into the bedroom. We sat Nico down on the bed, and his eyes drifted to the things on the bedside table. Will explained the condoms and the lube and that there was a bunch of toys in the drawer below that we didn't need to use but were there in case he wanted to see what they did.

Slipping onto the sheets beside Nico, I rested a hand on the back of his neck as Will explained in a way he would to someone that had no idea what they were doing. This kept Nico grounded and meant I could feel his heartbeat, blood thumping through him and giving away how excited he was.

"Will, baby," I interrupted. "I think he gets the idea."

Will grinned sheepishly. "I just want him to know what could happen." He kneeled down, leaning a hand on Nico's knee. "You still okay with everything still?"

Nico nodded, and I guided his head to face me. "Hey, can I kiss you?"

Instead of a verbal answer, Nico pushed into my space, wrapping his arms around my neck and kissing me hard. I reciprocated with as much fervour, closing my eyes and enjoying the familiar experience of kissing one of my partners. My arms secured around his waist and I hoisted him into my lap, drinking the whine from his lips.

Will pulled gently on the hem of Nico's shirt, pulling it off only when Nico pulled away from me very briefly. I ran my hands over his bare torso, thrilled with the hitch of breath I got when I ghosted my fingers over his nipples. I dragged my nails over them again and was rewarded with Nico throwing his head back and moaning from deep in his chest.

His hips were shifting, clearly getting uncomfortable. I broke away from where I'd been nipping a lovely flower patch of red and purple into his skin to look at Will.

Eyes hungry and wanting, Will was also shirtless and hard in his sweatpants. I raised an eyebrow. "Nico, sweetheart, hop off me for a moment, will you?" It took a moment for him to respond, but he obediently wiggled off my lap.

I slipped off my trousers, exposing my legs and shuffled back until I had my back against the headboard, the pillows holding me at an angle. Beckoning for Nico to come back, he crawled over and I positioned him until his back was against my chest. Will fell on the bed, eyeing Nico like a predator does prey.

Breathing against Nico's ear, I shot a wicked grin Will's way. "You wanna get fucked, handsome?" Nico's back arched against me and I felt the desperate groan more than I heard it.

"F-fuck, yes-!"

Will stripped Nico of the rest of his clothes, licking his lips at the sight of Nico's cock, red and hard and drippy with precum. "I'm gonna prep you first, okay darlin'? You think you can handle that?"

Nico nodded frantically. I smoothed my hand along the planes of Nico's ribs and hips. "Be nice, Will, he's new to all this."

I delighted in the twin moans that drew from my partners. Carefully, I reached down and pulled Nico's legs apart, thighs exposing him and a delicious blush spreading down his chest.

Grabbing the lube, Will coated his fingers in the substance and kneeled between Nico's legs. He winked. "I'll be gentle, promise."

Nico keened as the first finger eased into him, body adjusting to the intrusion and relaxing as I pressed kisses into his hair and Will went slow and soft, keeping up the pretense that this wasn't an intimately familiar situation.

"So good for me," Will breathed as Nico took a second finger, then a third. "Such a good boy for us, Nico." Said 'good boy' preened under the attention, body limp and pliable against me.

It didn't take long for Will to withdraw his hand. Nico let out a broken cry of want, and I shushed him in his ear. "Shh, I know, baby, I know, but don't you want Will to fuck you? Be the first one to experience you like this?"

Nico dug his nails into my legs bracketing him and nodded frantically. "P-please, I need him, I-I need him to f-fuck me so bad-!"

I grinned, lazily drawing circles around his nipples. "Aww, so precious, baby, wanna be fucked so bad." I looked back to Will applying a condom and hissing as he jerked himself with lube. "Don't keep us waiting, honey, you heard him."

Will practically leapt on Nico, catching him in a heavy kiss, tongues moving lazily and I held my hips as still as I could, occasionally grinding up against Nico.

They broke apart and Will sat back, lifting Nico's hips up and massaging his hole with a thumb. "You want me to fuck you, huh?" Nico rolled his hips in a frankly obscene way, and Will could stand it no longer.

He guided his cock into Nico, and I had the pleasure of hearing their sighs and moans at finally, finally getting some relief. The jealous part of me reared its head for just a second before it was pushed down by the delicious sight of Will fucking into Nico at a slow, steady pace, cock dragging against insides with wonderful friction. They fit together so well, I was so lucky to know and love and be known and loved in return.

I felt my body rocking in tandem with Will's thrusts, my hands firmly on Nico's waist to stop him wriggling too much. Whimpers and moans sang in my ears and it became harder and harder to not reach down and touch myself to the sights and sounds and sensations.

Will's breathing got heavier and heavier. "I-I'm gonna come, darlin', feels so fuckin' good, my gorgeous boy..."

I reached down and wrapped a hand around Nico's cock, hardly moving as the force of Will's thrusts let Nico fuck my hand. Nico grasped at the sheets, eyes rolling back in his head. "Sh-shit...!"

Nico came with a broken cry, tears spilling over his cheeks and Will buried himself to the hilt inside Nico, spilling into the condom with a throaty groan and leaving red fingerprints on Nico's hips.

The moment was quiet, panting as the only noise.

Very gently, Will pulled out, kissing Nico's knees apologetically as he hissed in overstimulation. In the softest voice, Will murmured, "I'll be back, gimme a sec." He slipped off the bed, legs slightly shaky and wobbled to the bathroom.

With as much effort as he could master, Nico rolled off me, pulling me down to lay with him face to face. Eyelids low, fucked out expression on his face, he gave me a small smile. "You didn't come."

I shook my head. "It's fine, gorgeous, this was about you, remember?"

In response, Nico nudged his leg between mine, pushing his thigh against me as he threw an arm around my waist and moving as close to me as he could get. His voice was breathy and worn out and unbelieveably sexy. "Use me."

Still keyed up from the sight of my partners lost in pleasure and with Nico's thigh between my legs applying a delectable amount of pressure, I rolled my hips against him. "That's it," Nico tucked his face into my neck, laving his tongue over my pulse point. I shivered and felt him grin. "Use me, sweetheart, I know you want to, I wanna feel you come, please?"

Well, when he asked so nicely, what could I do but obey? I grinded against Nico's leg, breathing hard and letting my boyfriend trace shapes with his tongue against my skin. In a few minutes I was right on the edge. Nico reached his hand down and into my underwear and in the next few seconds I was coming, soaking my underwear and his hand and his thigh. "So good, fuck, you look so good when you come."

"Oh shut up." I blushed hard and Nico kissed my cheek.

"Absolutely not."

Will returned, accompanied with towels and the sound of a running bath behind him. "Come on, this isn't over, we're still taking care of you, Neeks."

Rolling his eyes, Nico bit gently into my neck and I squeaked. "Nico!"

He sat up, a shit-eating grin on his face. "I'll come be taken care of, but only if I get to make you come properly." His eyes burned into mine, and I was helpless.

"You get an attitude after sex, you know that?"

Nico grinned, then his eyes widened, looking between me and Will. "Hey, guys? I think I might be gay."

Will face-palmed as Nico cackled. "Just get in the bath, Neeks."

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

okay this took me like almost 2 hours to write so i am in Pain but i hope you enjoyed!!

[darylsdelts]

No because I’m always thinking about what Daryl’s like when he’s in love. But like, the softness of it and how he’s most likely never really had that before so as soon as he does…it’s the most wholesome thing.

Also can we agree that this man would always have his eyes fixated on his partner 😭 like…FOLLOWING THEIR EVERY MOVE BECAUSE WATCHING THEM EXIST IS SO!!!!!!!

Don’t get me started anon omg.

(Darylxfemale reader)

No because it actually breaks my heart to think that Daryl just simply wouldn’t understand why his partner loves him at first like, he knows you say it and whatever but he genuinely cannot get his head around the fact that this person LOVES him.

I feel like he’s definitely a little uncomfortable about it for a while, this doesn’t mean he doesn’t like the affection and attention he’s just not used to it but… god, him getting attention from someone that beautiful would have him blushing all the time, he’d get so shy.

He definitely had his eyes on you for a real long time before anything happened but he’d never admit it, especially because he’d never be the one making the first move.

He’d show his love for you in shy ways, coming back from runs with small gifts for you, stand in front of you, looking down and shifting his feet nervously. “Uh… gotcha this when I was out there… dunno… seemed like a you thing I guess…” he’d quickly put whatever the thing is in your grasp as if it was burning him.

But he’d get more comfortable after a while, letting his eyes linger on you, not hiding his gaze. He loves admiring you any chance he gets… and everyone can tell.

HES THE MOST GENTLE LOVER!! I know a lot of people write him as dominant and rough and each to their own but I can just never imagine it. He’s so gentle, handling you like you’re made of glass, he whispers sweet things to you when making love and he brushes your hair out your face.

He leaves notes when he goes out on runs. He does it every time but he writes a little more if he left early without seeing you.

“Out with Aaron. Be back when the suns high. Make sure you eat. Love you angel girl.”

(He’d obviously not write with correct grammar)

He’d come back when the suns high, like he said and he’d gently tell you off if you hadn’t eaten yet. He’d tell you about what he found or if he didn’t find anything. If it was a bad run, you’d know because he’d squeeze your hands when holding them, something he does subconsciously sometimes when he’s in need of comfort, even if he doesn’t know it himself.

•

This is way longer than I meant it to be I kinda got carried away but yeah, I love this and ily Anon for sending me this! ❤️

[kayewrite]

Stack of Books

(blue sticky note ending #1)

han jisung x reader x ot8!! han x reader!!! word count: 3.2k

Blue note alternative ending 1 wherein; you choose han jisung. the friend you hide your feelings for a long time.

an: i made han first because aside from i love his character here, a lot dm'd me to do him first. and i hope you liked it because i put my emotions doing this.

an2: im tagging random people im sorry. if you want to be tagged, don't be afraid to tell me

part 1 and part 2 first

Han Jisung is a friend.

That's what you always told yourself whenever you looked at him and felt the butterflies rumbling in your stomach. But when did those feelings start?

It began the day he sang a song just for you.

You always thought of Han as studious, always with his nose in his stack of books, glasses perched on his nose. Whenever exams loomed, you'd choose him as your study partner, knowing his dedication would motivate you to work harder too. He was the perfect study buddy—focused, reliable, always encouraging you when you felt overwhelmed.

You knew he loved to sing; he often harmonized with Chan, his voice effortlessly slipping into the role of a vocalist whenever they worked on a track together. But seeing him holding a guitar, carefully tuning it, that was something new. Something that stirred a different feeling in you.

When he started singing, that’s when it happened—the spark that set everything else in motion. You were in middle school then, and though you were too young to fully understand it, you knew something had shifted inside you.

From that moment on, you hid your feelings. You were terrified that the bond you'd built would change, that Han would notice the way you lingered a little too long when your eyes met. Besides, it didn’t seem like he was ready for anything more than friendship.

When you first met him, he was crying, heartbroken. That image stuck with you, the way his eyes were red and puffy, the way his voice cracked as he tried to explain what had happened. It made you think, Han must have trauma with love. So you buried your feelings even deeper, where he wouldn’t find them.

As the years passed, you both entered college. Han was as hardworking as ever, never sticking to just one job, always pushing himself to do more. He was always busy, always moving. And that, too, kept your feelings locked away.

But then, when you found out he liked you, it felt surreal. How could this be happening? And when you realized it wasn’t just him… that others had feelings for you too, the weight of it all came crashing down. You felt miserable, confused. How did it all come to this?

You cried in your room, your mind swirling with questions and doubts. You didn’t want to choose anyone because you were terrified it would break the friendships you’d worked so hard to build. But deep down, you knew the real reason—there was someone already in your heart, and the thought of choosing him terrified you.

Love is hard, Han had once said to you, and now, more than ever, you understood what he meant.

You’d always been in love with your friend, Han Jisung. And when you received that blue note, a part of you desperately wanted to believe it was from him. But when the truth came out—that everyone had feelings for you—your instinct was to bury your love even deeper, where it couldn’t hurt anyone.

A sudden knock on your door snapped you out of your thoughts. You opened it, and there he was—Han, standing in the dim light of the hallway.

Without a word, you collapsed into his arms, letting the tears you’d held back for so long finally flow. All the emotions you’d kept bottled up spilled out as you clung to him, needing the comfort of his presence.

“I’m so sorry,” Han whispered, his voice trembling. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. We didn’t mean to make you feel this way. Chan talked to us… he told us everything.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him. His eyes, even in the dark, were shining with a sadness that mirrored your own.

“It’s not your fault,” you said softly, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “I just… I never expected things to turn out like this.”

Han’s gaze dropped to the floor, his expression pained. “I should have kept it to myself. None of this would have happened if I had just—”

“Don’t say that,” you interrupted, your voice firmer now. “It’s not your fault.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the weight of everything unsaid hanging in the air. Then, as the silence grew heavier, you spoke, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

“I liked you, Han. I’ve always liked you.”

The confession slipped out, and you immediately regretted it, your heart pounding in your chest. Han’s eyes widened, surprise and something else—something unreadable—flickering across his face.

“You… you liked me?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, looking away, your cheeks burning. “I'm sorry. I can't help but…to say it."

But instead of pulling away, Han took a step closer, his hand gently tilting your chin up so you were forced to meet his gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I was scared,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. And then, when I found out about everyone else… I thought it would be better to just keep it to myself.”

Han’s grip on your chin softened, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “I wish you’d told me,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. “I wish I’d known.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the air thick with everything left unsaid. Then, almost as if he couldn’t stop himself, Han leaned in closer, his face inches from yours.

But just before your lips could touch, you turned your head away, breaking the moment. “I can’t, Han,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He froze, his breath hitching as he realized what you meant. “I… I understand,” he said, pulling back slightly, though the hurt in his eyes was clear. “But why? Why are you so scared? Is it because you’re afraid of hurting others?”

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze. “I don’t want to lose anyone. I don’t want to break the friendships we’ve built.”

Han was silent for a moment, then he gently took your hand in his. “Why don’t you just choose yourself?” he asked quietly. “Choose what you want. Listen to your heart, not what you think others want.”

His words hit you like a wave, the simplicity and truth of them sinking in. Slowly, you turned back to him, and as your eyes met, you saw something in his gaze that gave you the courage to lean in this time.

--

Monday arrived with a heaviness in your chest that you couldn't quite shake. You walked into school, trying to appear normal, but the weight of everything that had happened over the weekend lingered in your mind. As you entered the classroom and took your seat, you could feel the eyes of Changbin and Seungmin on you, their concern palpable even without words.

You glanced up and forced a small smile, hoping it would be enough to ease their worries. Changbin returned the smile, though you could see the tension in his expression soften slightly.

The day dragged on, with every minute feeling like an hour. Your thoughts kept drifting back to the events that had turned your world upside down.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, you began to pack your things, your movements slow and deliberate. You were lost in thought when Changbin suddenly appeared beside you, his presence breaking through your reverie. Without a word, he reached out and gently took hold of your wrist.

“Let’s talk,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

Before you could respond, he was already guiding you out of the classroom, his grip on your wrist both comforting and insistent. You glanced back at Seungmin, who was watching the two of you with an unreadable expression. He didn’t say anything, just gave you a slight nod, as if to give his silent approval for whatever conversation was about to unfold.

Changbin led you to an empty room, far from the prying eyes of your classmates. The door closed behind you with a soft click, sealing the two of you in a bubble of tense silence. He let go of your wrist slowly, his fingers lingering for just a moment before he stepped back, giving you space.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The quiet between you was thick with unspoken words and emotions that neither of you knew how to express. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the anxiety twisting in your stomach as you waited for him to speak.

Finally, Changbin broke the silence. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low and filled with regret.

You blinked, not expecting those words to be the first thing out of his mouth. “Why would you be sorry?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looked down at the floor, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Because… I know this has been hard on you. I didn’t want to make things complicated. I didn’t want to scare you.”

His words hung in the air, and you felt a pang of guilt twist in your chest. You understood what he was trying to say. Love wasn’t something anyone could control, and feelings, once they took root, were difficult to stop. You knew that all too well.

“I understand,” you said softly, trying to find the right words. “But you don’t have to apologize for how you feel. None of this is your fault.”

Changbin looked up at you then, his eyes filled with a sadness that took your breath away. “I didn’t want anything to change between us,” he admitted, his voice wavering. “That’s why I was a coward. I couldn’t bring myself to say it, so I… I put that note in your binder instead. Like Minho said… it was a coward’s move.”

You hesitated for a moment, the truth sitting heavily on your tongue. But you knew you couldn’t keep it to yourself any longer. “Changbin… I need to tell you something,” you began, your heart racing. “I like Han.”

The words fell from your lips, and you watched as they hit Changbin like a physical blow. His eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked like he’d been punched in the gut. But then he quickly composed himself, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“It’s okay,” he said, though his voice was strained. “I kind of figured… I mean, I always noticed how you looked at him. It’s okay. We can still be friends, right?”

You nodded, though you could see the hurt in his eyes, the way he was trying so hard to pretend it didn’t matter. “Of course, we can,” you assured him, even though you both knew things wouldn’t be the same.

Changbin’s smile faltered, and he looked away, swallowing hard. “This is my punishment,” he said, more to himself than to you. “For playing around with hearts… for being careless.”

“Changbin…” you started, but he shook his head, cutting you off.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll take it. I’ll take the punishment,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “But I just want you to be happy, okay? Even if it’s not with me.”

With that, he turned and left the room, leaving you standing there with the weight of his words pressing down on you.

-

Jeongin, who always had a knack for making sure you were okay, suddenly sent you a text.

Jeongin: "Hey, how are you?"

You stared at the screen for a moment, unsure of how to respond. The events of the day weighed heavily on your heart, and for once, you decided not to hide it.

You: "I'm not okay."

His reply came almost instantly.

Jeongin: "Where are you? Let me treat you to your favorite toothpaste-flavored ice cream."

Despite everything, you couldn’t help but smile at his offer. Jeongin knew you too well. The thought of him wanting to keep things normal, to not let anything change between you, filled you with a warmth that eased some of the tension in your chest.

You agreed to meet him at the usual ice cream shop, the one that always smelled of fresh waffle cones and sugary sweetness. When you arrived, Jeongin was already there, waiting for you with a familiar smile. He handed you your favorite mint chocolate ice cream without a word, as if it were a remedy for all your troubles.

You sat down across from him, and he watched you eat, his eyes filled with a quiet concern. He always had this way of making you feel like everything was going to be okay, even when it wasn’t.

After a few minutes, Jeongin finally spoke up. “So, did you talk to Han?”

His question caught you off guard, and your hand froze mid-bite. The truth was, Jeongin knew more than you’d ever admitted out loud. He’d seen it long before you were willing to accept it yourself—the way your eyes lingered on Han, the way your heart seemed to beat a little faster whenever he was near.

Jeongin had always known.

You looked down at your ice cream, unable to meet his eyes. “Yes,” you murmured.

Jeongin nodded, as if he expected that answer. “You know,” he began, his voice gentle, “I’ve known for a while that you liked Han. I saw it from the beginning.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, and tears welled up in your eyes. Before you could wipe them away, Jeongin slid a tissue across the table, his lips curving into a soft smile.

“You look like a kid right now,” he teased lightly. “You’re a year older than me, but sometimes it feels like you’re years younger.”

His playful tone made you laugh, even as you took the tissue and dabbed at your eyes. Jeongin always had a way of lightening the mood, of making everything seem a little less heavy, a little less painful.

“What’s your plan?” he asked, his tone turning more serious.

You sighed, shaking your head. “I don’t know, Jeongin. I really don’t know.”

He grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Well, if you don’t know the answer, I’m always here, you know. Just in case.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his playful tone, and Jeongin joined in, his laughter warm and genuine. The sound of it eased some of the burden you’d been carrying, and for a moment, you could almost forget the chaos that had become your life.

Then Jeongin’s expression softened, and he reached across the table to take your hand in his. “Whatever happens, I’ll always be here for you,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “As a friend.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the unwavering support and care that had always been there. Jeongin wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better; he truly meant it. No matter what happened, no matter how complicated things became, you knew you could always count on him.

And that realization brought you a comfort that you desperately needed.

--

You watched Han from your seat, your gaze fixated on him as he stood behind the counter of the library. His attention was focused on the task at hand, scanning the barcodes of borrowed books with a meticulous precision. The afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a soft glow on his features, highlighting the way his glasses framed his eyes. Every now and then, he would adjust them, a small habit you found oddly endearing.

He was always so serious when he worked, so dedicated and focused. It was one of the many things you admired about him. There was something about the way he moved, the quiet efficiency in his actions, that never failed to draw you in.

As you continued to watch him, lost in your thoughts, he suddenly looked up. Your eyes met, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away. Han’s expression softened, and he offered you a small, warm smile. It was a smile that reached his eyes, causing them to crinkle at the corners in that familiar way that always made your heart flutter.

You smiled back, your lips curving into a soft grin, the connection between you lingering in the air.

Now, the two of you were seated across from each other at one of the small wooden tables nestled in a quiet corner of the library. Han had finished his shift and joined you without a word, simply taking a seat opposite you. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable; it was filled with an understanding that had developed over years of friendship.

You found yourself just looking at him, really looking at him, and suddenly, the weight of everything you’d kept hidden felt overwhelming. The feelings you had tried so hard to suppress, to deny, surged to the surface with a force that left you breathless. You realized, with startling clarity, just how much you liked him—how much you had always liked him.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you reached out, your hand trembling slightly as it found his. His skin was warm against yours, and the simple act of holding his hand felt like a bridge you were finally crossing after standing on the edge for so long.

Your thoughts raced back to all the times you had convinced yourself to stay silent, to keep your feelings hidden for the sake of your friendship. You had tried so hard, told yourself that it was better this way, safer. But now, sitting here with him, with his hand in yours, it all felt so futile, so unnecessary.

A small, bittersweet smile played on your lips as you finally allowed the truth to escape. “I like you, Han.”

The words felt both wrong and right at the same time. Wrong because you had been so determined to never let them slip, and right because, at this moment, it felt like a release, a weight lifted off your shoulders. The vulnerability in your voice made your heart race, but it also brought a sense of relief you hadn’t expected.

Han’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but only for a moment. Then, his expression softened, and he squeezed your hand gently. “You don’t know how much I like you.”

A quiet, shared laugh bubbled up between you, both of you mindful of the library’s hushed atmosphere. It was a laugh filled with nervousness and relief, a shared understanding that you had finally crossed a line that had been looming between you for so long.

As you sat there, your hands still intertwined, you realized something important. No matter how hard you had tried to control your feelings, to dictate what your heart should or shouldn’t do, it was impossible. The heart had a mind of its own, leading you to places you hadn’t expected, to emotions you hadn’t planned.

You couldn’t force yourself to stop liking him, just as you couldn’t force your heart to stay silent any longer. And now, sitting here with Han, his hand in yours, you were glad you hadn’t tried to.

----

blue sticky note part 1. part 2.

an: ill do minho next

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