#Please remember to be respectful if you have something to add.

[lucienarcheron]

As one of your Black followers it makes me really feel a type of way that you’re constantly bringing up Black people when you’re talking about Helion and Lucien. I get you want your rep and that’s totally valid but the way you constantly express that desire comes off as you being angry at the black community for wanting some more rep, too. And that’s fucked up.

We can headcanon different things and that’s okay, but what’s not cool to me is you telling people that we’re in the wrong for having our own headcanons (especially when they’re representation related). You have a difference in opinion and that’s your business, but the least you could do is keep Black people out of it. You don’t have to say “why do people always say he’s Black” “he’s not Black” etc etc when you’re talking about this — fight for your rep and keep us out of it.

Your issue should be with SJM for failing to adequately portray race in acotar, NOT with people for wanting helion/Lucien to be Black. Do better.

Honestly, I'm really glad you brought this up with me. Going to put it under a read more!

I never ever want to come off that way, especially to fellow people of color. I can see how the way I speak about this frustration of mine can come off that way but please know, it is never my intention ever for it to be read that way. For that, I am sorry. I really do apologize for ever making you feel like that and this is a general apology to any other friends/followers where my frustration has made them feel that way. Please know that is never the case. Ever!

My frustration is always directed at SJM first because her lack of writing POC characters well leaves us in spaces where we feel unseen. My other big frustration is with readers (many times white readers) who have a very specific idea of race and start pulling out their color charts and telling me, a woman of color, that the way I think of Lucien and Helion isn't correct. My issue becomes with how over the years those types of fans don't listen to a woman of color straight up telling them "Hey, there are other sides to this! There is more than one way to view this character!" I've been vagued about how I view Helion even though it comes from a place of trying to give room for other interpretations of this character. Since knowing that the artist who worked with SJM to create the coloring book aimed at a Persian-inspired Helion, I will always view him that way. To me, that is canon. He will always be a brown man to me. To me, he isn't black, and when people come at me for saying that, it feels like we're erasing one POC in favor of another. You may like to view him and headcanon him as black and you should absolutely feel comfortable to do so but it also shouldn't be at the expense of Middle Eastern rep. For example, to me — it is clear as day that Tarquin and many of the people of the Summer Court are black with no questions. Helion is not because dark-skinned doesn't always equal black. We all want to feel seen in our favorite stories and I would never want to make people feel like I'm trying to sour that for them but I also don't want people souring it for me.

My other issue becomes with readers (again, many times it being white readers) who headcanon both Helion and Lucien as black, stating it like it's fact, and then trying to make those who don't make Helion/Lucien a specific shade of brown or say that they don't see them as black feel like they're wrong. The one thing we can all agree on is that they're not white but we also have to remember, race isn't viewed the same way everywhere and that above all else, is the message I want to get across whenever I bring him up. People of color don't exist in one way or have one specific look or one specific shade of "brown". Let's be real, SJM is a white woman, and her "golden brown" is like a super tan white person lol. But also, tan is a color people of color have. There's this one family I always use as an example because they're half arab and half white but those kids straight up look like redheaded white kids lol. And it's not just about skin tone (though this is always what comes up first). It's also about drawing these characters with Middle Eastern features that don't happen. My frustration always comes down to how color/race is discussed with this one lens without considering how, outside of the US/Europe, people do not see it the same way. Especially when it's white readers trying to tell people of color what shade of color these characters should be. People don't like to consider that Lucien is "white-passing" but that is a thing in many cultures because people of color can still be light-skinned.

Your "do better" at the end feels a tad condescending and this ask feels overall a little rude but I want to give you the benefit of the doubt that you're truly trying to be helpful and coming from a place of friendship. I hope you extend me the same grace knowing that anything I've said is all said from a place of love and understanding. I think in general, we all can do better, especially fellow POCs in the fandom, to uplift each other and give each other space to be/feel seen.

And because this is a topic discussed by quite a few people in the fandom on tumblr/discord today specifically, I want to make it very very VERY clear — I am not being vague about anyone. I am not trying to target anyone with this response. This is not meant for a specific person or group of people. These are my overall thoughts because I've been in this fandom space for years and these conversations keep happening.

I am 100% trying to come from a very respectful place with this response because I know that these kinds of conversations can be awkward and uncomfortable for people. Please know, that my intentions are never to harm or make anyone feel bad but I hope people also extend that grace and understanding to me and my perspective on it. I always want my blog to be a safe space and welcoming for everyone. This fandom and the people in it have been a significant part of my life and joy for so long so it's important to me that none of this is taken in any negative context. I appreciate you bringing this up to me.

[burnthatbridge]

if you love him let him go (if you love him let him know) 

pre-buddie, bucktommy | T | 3k | angst, pining tommy needs to tell eddie something not on ao3 atm because i can't figure out if this is done or if i'm continuing it - please let me know your thoughts! now on ao3 because i hate not having all my fic in one place

“Can I get you another beer, man?”

Eddie checks his watch. It’s only a little after nine thirty. He’s kind of hoping to get home before Chris goes to sleep, but he’ll not be heading to bed any time soon, will likely stay up later than Eddie. Friday night means he disregards his supposed bedtime — not that he sticks to it that well on school nights, now he’s sixteen. “Sure, thanks.”

Tommy nods, disappears into the kitchen, returns a moment later with a can of IPA in one hand, a bottle of lager in the other. They’ve already finished the six-pack Eddie brought over, but trust Buck — well, Buck and Tommy — to have Eddie’s favorite beer in their fridge. Tommy hands over the can, already cracked open, and Eddie takes a sip as Tommy settles down at the opposite end of the couch. He doesn’t turn to face the TV, sits twisted towards Eddie instead, but he does pick up the remote and turn down the volume, the post-fight commentary rendered nearly unintelligible. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Eddie twists towards Tommy himself, something not-quite-anxious-but-almost flaring in his chest. Over the years they have been friends, he and Tommy have spoken about lots of things, including those not so easy to discuss: their respective experiences in the army, Tommy’s tough childhood, Eddie’s difficult parents, the hard aspects of the job. But they’ve all been topics that have come up naturally, raised organically. Tommy has never led into anything with such a pointed opener before.

Eddie studies him. He has one knee pulled up on the couch cushion, foot poking out off the end, the other foot planted on the floor, nearly parallel to the base of the couch. One arm is up on the backrest, the other relaxed, beer bottle in that hand, resting on his thigh, dripping condensation painting a charcoal ring on his — probably Buck’s, in fact, given how tight the fabric is stretched over the muscle of his leg — grey sweats. He’s not tense, but he’s not smiling, and there’s something about his expression that Eddie can’t place. It’s not that he hasn’t seen this look before, because he’s pretty sure he has, witnessed it in flickers across numerous occasions over the years, there and then gone, present for but a heartbeat. But he’d never known what it meant any of those times and he certainly doesn’t now.

“'Course,” Eddie says, when Tommy doesn’t go on, seems to be waiting for some kind of sign. Then adds, feeling like it’s necessary given the gravity he can feel pulling this lightsome evening down to something more serious.  “Anything.”

Tommy sighs, bites his lip like he doesn’t want to speak, even though he’s the one who said he wanted to talk, then shakes his head and takes a pull of his beer.

“Is everything okay?” Eddie’s starting to feel worried now. He mentally scans back over the past few weeks, trying to remember if Tommy has mentioned anything about work that could be a problem. He saw him at basketball last week, and nothing had seemed off. Plus, Buck hasn’t said anything. Not that he’d necessarily tell Eddie about an issue Tommy was having, not if Tommy wanted it kept private, but Eddie can usually tell when Buck’s concerned about someone, and he hasn’t picked up on anything, not at all. 

But maybe this isn’t about a problem Tommy is having. Maybe this is a Buck problem, something Buck has kept from Eddie. It would make sense why Tommy would bring it up with him; sometimes a concerted, multi-person effort is the only way to get through to Buck. And Tommy’s more likely to bring in Eddie first, and then expand the team to include Maddie, Chim, more, as needed. 

“Is Buck okay?” Eddie asks, something like panic constricting his throat, making the words come out a little strangled. 

Tommy actually laughs at that, a small, choked thing, an exhale of sound and air. He shakes his head again, but not a no. More like an extension of the laugh, a motion to accompany it, to better convey the disbelief — not humor — contained in it. “He’s fine.”

It’s a relief to hear. Buck had seemed physically okay, when Eddie had seen him briefly before he left the house, since he’d maybe purposefully waited to order his Uber until Buck pulled up in his jeep outside, despite Christopher’s insistence he didn’t need to wait for Buck to arrive, despite the fact that his kid is more than old enough to be left in the house alone for the twenty minutes it would have taken Buck to drive over, while Eddie was ferried the opposite way. But there could still have been something, Buck could have been fighting through pain, much better at hiding any hurt of his body than he is at masking his emotional distress. 

“But,” Tommy says, and that one word is enough to have Eddie’s muscles tightening once more, “It is Evan I wanted to talk about.”

Again, Tommy doesn’t follow it up with anything. Eddie has found, in their time as friends, that Tommy is not often a man lost for words. Quite the opposite, in fact. He usually says what he means, means what he says, and is an expert at listening and delivering sage advice. This reticence– it doesn’t feel like it bodes well, has the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck prickling.

“Alright,” Eddie says, a feeble prompt. “So, Buck?”

Tommy nods, like he’s gearing himself up for something, to face a challenge, to take a punch. Eddie is expecting something bad, so the words he says catch him even more off guard than they would have. “I want to ask Evan to marry me.”

Maybe if Tommy had seemed eager, excited, when he turned to him, Eddie could have anticipated the blow, could have felt a creeping suspicion this is where Tommy was headed, could have been provided with enough of a heads-up to brace himself. As it is, he doesn’t see the hit coming, takes it full force to the chest, so hard it steals his breath, knocks the wind from him. His mouth goes slack, and he feels his fingers slide against the slippery sides of his beer can, almost spills it over Tommy and Buck’s lounge carpet before he gets a hold on it, on himself. He forces himself to smile. “That’s– that’s great,” he makes himself say, only faintly aware that Tommy isn’t smiling back, like this moment should call for. “Did you–” he swallows around the bile climbing his esophagus, “Do you want help planning the proposal?” He wishes he could take the words back the second they’re out. Because this — just hearing that Tommy wants to ask Buck — is torture enough. To be involved with it, to help enable it, Eddie will be lucky if it doesn’t kill him. Maybe not his body, but certainly his soul. 

“No.” Tommy shakes his head. “No, I want to ask him to marry me. But I’m not going to. At least, not now.”

Eddie squints at him. The news that Tommy wants to marry Buck might hurt Eddie, but it’s not exactly surprising. Eddie’s seen how much Tommy cares for him in the years they’ve been together, has seen the way he looks at him, the way they look at each other. Has felt the way it burns him, the scorching heat of flame, the searing cold of ice. He doesn’t understand what Tommy is saying, doesn’t understand why this proclamation seems not to be a happy one. “Why not?” Eddie asks, almost grateful for the opportunity to present confusion, curiosity, rather than forced pleasure at the thought of one of his closest friends and his– best friend marrying each other. “You guys are serious. I mean, you live together.”

Tommy huffs another laugh, still more disbelief than humor, really the opposite of humor. “His lease was up.”

“Right. But he chose not to renew it. He chose to move in with you,” Eddie says, slow, struggling to understand, the pounding of his pulse not helping him think clearly, see through the puzzle that is everything Tommy has said so far and the way he has said it. 

“He was never going to renew it,” Tommy tells him.

And that’s– that’s something Eddie didn’t know. He hates it when he learns information about Buck from Tommy, always has, even though he fights with everything in him not to feel like that. Tommy is Buck’s boyfriend, of course he’s going to know things about him that Eddie doesn’t, know him in a way that Eddie doesn’t. 

“We hadn’t spoken about living together,” Tommy says, eyes on Eddie. “But he’d said he thought the loft was too expensive and he was spending nearly every night at mine by that point. When he wasn’t on shift. Or at yours.” Eddie pulls his eyes away, takes a sip from his beer for something to do, even though the bitter taste is turning his stomach. “He said he wasn’t going to renew it, that he’d look for somewhere new, cheaper. But this was too close to the end of his lease to find a place before he had to move out. I asked where he was going to stay in the meantime.”

“And he said with you,” Eddie guesses, more a statement than a question.

But Tommy shakes his head. A smile curls his lips but his eyes– his eyes don’t match. “He said he’d crash on your couch, actually.”

Eddie takes another mouthful of beer, holds it there, on the back of his tongue. He didn’t know any of this. Buck would, of course, have been more than welcome. Likely why he hadn’t asked in advance, why he planned for it without seeking permission. 

“I said he could stay with me, instead. That he’d be able to sleep in a bed here.” Eddie swallows, the beer somehow thick and cloying in a way that it shouldn’t be. “And then when he started making noises about looking for a new place, I told him he should stay.”

While it’s not how Eddie had, unwillingly, pictured it in his head — Tommy and Buck mutually agreeing that Buck shouldn’t renew his lease, deciding they wanted to live together — it still doesn’t explain what Tommy has said. “And he did stay,” Eddie says. “So, why aren’t– Does Buck not want to get married?” But that can’t be it, that can’t be right. Eddie is certain Buck does want to be married, only he’d tried hard not to think of Buck wanting that with Tommy, with anyone. Anyone else. 

“No, he does,” Tommy confirms it. He leans over and deposits his beer on the coffee table. Then sits back, still turned to Eddie, but arms crossed over his chest, like a protection of himself. “We’ve spoken about it, discussed it. And he’s told me he’s always wanted that, to get married, to be part of a family.” Tommy pops one hand out of the fold of his arms to hold it up, out, quelling, like Eddie has protested. He hasn’t, but his heart is doing something approximating a riot at the idea of Tommy being Buck’s family. “And I know he has a family. He knows he does. In you and Chris, in Maddie and Jee, in the 118. But–” Tommy breaks off, tips his head to the side, gaze boring into Eddie’s face so strong that Eddie wishes he could turn away, duck and run. “You know how much he’s always wanted to belong somewhere.”

He does, Eddie thinks, the thought almost violent in its intensity. He belongs with me. Except, he doesn’t. Not really, not how Eddie wants, not the way he does with Tommy.

“And I want that for him,” Tommy goes on, tucking his hand back in, squeezing his arms tighter about himself. Eddie’s never seen him like this, hunched in on himself, curled small. Tommy is usually so open, larger than life. “I want to be the one to give that to him.”

Eddie wants to be the one to give that to him. Desires it desperately, a secret need he’s tucked as far inside himself as he can. He can feel it now, raging to be let out, to be set free. But he can’t, he won’t. Buck is with Tommy, he’s happy with Tommy. Tommy who is so warm and kind and good, Tommy who is better than Eddie in every conceivable way, who brings so much to Buck’s life, who gives all of himself to Buck. Who wants to give him even more. Wants to, but apparently won’t.

Eddie doesn’t understand. “Then, if you want to, why won’t you ask him?” he questions, trying to. 

“If I ask him now, he’ll say no.” Tommy states it like indisputable fact, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world that Buck would refuse him. 

Eddie shakes his head, understanding even less. “But he loves you.”

Tommy smiles again, then, larger than he had before, but as devoid of happiness, as empty of cheer. This smile hurts to see, reflects the way Eddie felt inside when Tommy had said I want to ask Evan to marry me. “I know he does.” Tommy’s tone is sure, but wistful. “But he loves you more.”

It’s like– It’s like nothing Eddie has ever felt. Or maybe it’s like everything he’s ever felt. The shock of a residual lightning bolt, the joy of being a part of the 118, the pain of a bullet ripping through his shoulder, the awe of holding his son for the first time. Eddie wants Tommy’s words to be true maybe more than he’s ever wanted anything. But he also cannot believe them, has no trust that they are true. Because they can’t be. Buck loves Tommy. Not Eddie. 

“We’re friends. Best friends,” Eddie points out. “Of course, he– he loves me. But not more. Not like he loves you. He’s in love with you.”

Tommy sighs, arms uncrossing, palms coming to rest on his thighs, body taking on a posture Eddie is familiar with, the one he falls into when he’s talking someone through something, the one he adopted when Eddie came out to him some six months ago. “Eddie, he’s in love with you.”

Eddie shakes his head. It’s everything he’s ever wanted to hear, but coming from the wrong lips. Spoken by not by Buck himself but by Buck’s boyfriend, oh god. “He isn’t. Tommy, he can’t be.” 

But Tommy is nodding, nodding like what he’s said is true, like he wants Eddie to believe it. 

“He’s not,” Eddie says, hears the denial, the disbelief spill from him. Buck doesn’t love him. He doesn’t. But Eddie– Eddie loves– “I’m sorry,” Eddie says, almost a gasp. “Tommy, I’m sorry, I–”

“It’s not your fault,” Tommy cuts him off. “I knew what I was getting into. When I started seeing Evan, I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. I just–” Tommy sighs again, scrubs his palms along his thighs. “I didn’t expect it to get this far. I thought we’d just be a fun, easy thing. Something to ease Evan into his sexuality, that new part of himself. I didn’t expect it to go like this. I didn’t expect to feel like this.” Tommy closes his eyes, lashes falling to his cheeks. He breaths in and out, while Eddie’s own breath is caught in his chest. When Tommy opens his eyes, he says, “But I don’t have to tell you how easy it is to love him.”

Fuck. Tommy knows. Because Eddie does. He loves Buck, loves him so endlessly he doesn’t know where the feeling starts and where it ends. Doesn’t know when it started; doesn’t think it will ever end. “I’m sorry,” Eddie whispers, needing to say the words again, needing Tommy — his friend — to hear them. 

Tommy lifts one palm from his thigh, his wrist pressing into the muscle as he cuts his fingers to the side in a dismissal. “Don’t apologize for it. I’m certainly not going to. I’m never going to be sorry for loving him.” He drops his hand back down, pats his leg, emphasis of the point. “But it is a problem.” He smiles, rueful. “I thought I’d be able to break up with him, if he didn’t break up with me. I should have, ages ago. I certainly should have when you came out.” 

Eddie, selfishly, had hoped Buck would break up with Tommy then. But it had seemed like a farfetched fantasy. He had told Buck he was queer after Buck had already moved in with Tommy. He’d admitted it to himself, to Frank, before that, but hadn’t told anyone else for weeks. In hindsight, sometimes he figures he’d left it too late, but most of the time he didn’t think it would have made a difference at all. But now, with what Tommy has told him, maybe it would have. It’s a knife sliding between Eddie’s ribs to think maybe. Maybe.

“But I didn’t.” Tommy looks resigned, shoulders drooping. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Eddie needs to know. It seems like Tommy has known for years that Eddie has loved Buck. Loves Buck. I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. So why is he only bringing it up now?

“Because I didn’t. Because I can’t. I can’t break up with him. But I want to move forward. And I want to do so with him, for us to further our life together. But if I ask him to marry me when he doesn’t know for sure that you’re not an option, he’ll say no.”

Fear freezes Eddie’s insides. “So, what– what are you asking me to do?” Because Tommy is asking something of Eddie, wants something. Something Eddie fears he will have to make himself give.

Tommy straightens up, shoulders rolling back. He’s serious, solemn but not demanding or pleading when he says it. A devastating request. “I’m asking you, as my friend, to let him go.”

Eddie could be sick, he thinks, could vomit up the three and a quarter beers and the half a dozen chicken wings he’s consumed since he got to Tommy and Buck’s place. Could spill the mess of his insides up all over himself, all over Tommy, all over their lives. Tommy is his friend, was his friend before he was ever Buck’s boyfriend. Eddie should do this thing for him. Should give Buck his blessing to marry Tommy, give Buck up, give him over, completely, to this man who has loved him so well for the past three years. Eddie should; in his gut he knows it would be the right thing to do. But his heart– his heart is in revolt. It’s Buck. He loves him. How can he ever let him go?

Tommy leans forward, places a hand on Eddie’s leg, squeezes his fingers around the ball of his kneecap, until Eddie lifts his gaze and meets his eyes. “Or,” he says, somehow even more serious, “I am telling you, as your friend, to go and get him.”

[rhadamanthes]

Mr.Policeman. Sukuna x reader

word count : 1,7 k words

warnings : officer!sukuna, fem reader, slight yandere reader, handcuff, finger sucking, rough sex, mention of baby trapping, creampie.

author's notes : this was inspired after watching a killer's paradox on netflix, i wanted to fuck that detective so bad... enjoy

Crushing the butt of his cigarette on the floor, Sukuna takes a deep breath before entering your apartment. Another call from you, urging him to come during his shift. You entered his life a few months ago, crying at the  police station for a stolen purse. You gave an extensive description of the overpriced bag, and everything that was in it. When he found the culprit a few days later you came running to him, hugging him, thanking him over and over.

He made the mistake of calling you with his personal number. Ever since, there was not a single day where you haven't solicited him. A spider on the wall ? you call him. A sprained ankle? you call him. Can't find your keys ? another call. Every single time he denied you, you would come crying at the station refusing to talk to anyone but him. Sometimes he wonders if you have any self respect.  

Earlier today he recieve a call from you, you sounded really panicked this time, you told him to come over without further reason. He did, when he enters your place, you don't come rushing to him like usual. Something off, he calls your name,  A muffled voice comes from your room. Following the sound, he can't believe what he sees with his own eyes. You're laying on your bed, wearing a lacy nightgown as well as a robe. Your hands are tied up to the steel frame of your bed and you're gagged. What the hell happened this time? He sighs walking to you. Taking a seat on the bed he notices the fear in your eyes. Shit it's for real this time.

"What happened ? are you ok ?" he inquires, freeing your mouth. 

"I'm fine Just a bit shocked, untie my wrists please it hurts" you quietly speak.

Sukuna feels bad, something happened to you and he was reluctant just at the thought of seeing you again. Once you're free, he encourages you to tell him what happened. Grabbing the notepad on the side of his uniform he's ready to take your testimony.

"I have a stalker, he was inside when I got there."

Writing down all the information as you speak, things don't add up. How could you call him? You were gagged when he got here but he heard you loud and clear on the phone. Closing the notebook he stares at you. This is the problem, he thinks, he never knows how to deal with you, what is true what isn't ? You look at him curiously when you notice he's not writing anymore. 

"How could you call me if your wrists and mouth were restrained ?" he starts in a calm voice.

"I-i don't know i don't remember... I did what I can '' you stutters, the tears threaten to fall from your eyes, as you sob on his shoulder holding him tight. 

Shit he is definitely acting like an ass today. He still can' shake the gut feeling he has, this added up to all your interaction since he knows you can't be a coincidence. You have a crush on him, worse an obsession could this be one of your schemes ? He needs to be sure. Separating your bodies, Sukuna holds you by your shoulder planting a sweet kiss on your lips, he waits a few moments but you don't deepen the kiss. When he breaks the contact , your brows are slightly furrowed. Could he be mistaken ?

"Officer, I'm not sure what you're doing" your sweet voice reach his ears, as you run your hands up his arms, squeezing his muscles. 

You little vixen, this is all you desire. He should have known from the second he laid eyes on your stupid pink nightgown.

"You're not ?" he asks, locking his hand in your hair. 

You shake your head left to right, looking at him through your lashes. He's going to ruin you, he doesn't want to be gentle. You made him lose so much time and sanity over the past few months. At the same time he also want to feed in your delusion, be sweet with you like the hero you see in him, to fuck you sensually as he saved you once again. 

"Be kind to me officer, i'm still a bit shaken" you purr laying back on the bed.  

"I have a name sweetheart, say it" he decided to play your game today. 

"Sukuna, please make me feel good." Your voice is itching his brain the right way, maybe he should have folded way before today. You look particularly desirable in your little silk underwear. 

"Should I use this?" he says, grabbing the cuffs you were previously tied with. 

"Hmm I'd prefer if you used yours." you say tracing the police badge on his firm torso

"As you wish" he undresses you revealing your naked body under the gown. Of course you didn't bother wearing anything underneath. He huffs through his nose, you're endearing in your own way that's for sure. He taps your hips telling you to turn around. You dramatically hiss at the impact.

"Come on now" he scoffs

"But i want to see your face please" you beg, grabbing on his shoulders tightly. 

"So demanding, is it because you're still scared? I'm here now, nothing will happen to you" he coos stradling your body.

Your lips met his, Sukuna let you lead, you take your time, exploring his mouth with your tongue.  The kiss is so sweet you might actually make him rot. Feeling your hands fidgeting with his hips he grabs it as a reflex, breaking the kiss. His patrol cuffs are in your hands.

"Why don't you tie us together"  you bat your eyelashes and Sukuna really thinks he went mad  resisting you for so long. 

Taking the cuff from your hand he clicks it on your left wrist, you do the same for his right one. A soft giggle escapes your lips once you're linked to each other, you're looking at him with pure lust now. He wants you too, can't wait to feel your warm pussy around him. He quickly kicks off his boots and gets rid of his trousers. He's about to take off his cap when you stop him. 

"It's hot, keep it on Sukuna please" the way his name rolls off your tongue makes him feel like a brand new man. You're so salacious.  

Granting you your wish he brings his cuffed hand to your lips, dipping two of his fingers in your mouth. You happily suck them in, never breaking eye contact. Your tied hand is wrapped around his wrist, keeping him in place. Once Sukuna feels they're wet enough he brings them to your pussy, rubbing your clit a few times before he curls them inside your wet walls. Your moans fill the room and he can't help but groan at the feeling.

"You don't even need it, you're so soaked" he gritts through his teeth, watching his fingers coated with your arousal, mixing with your saliva. 

Jerking his cock he enters your pussy hungrily in one go. You both moan at the sensation. God you're everything he thought you would be, your pussy is squeezing in a delicious manner while you're splayed on your back eyes closed, mouth open.  Sukuna starts with a slow pace until you beg him to go faster.

"You're such a brave girl taking it all like that" he grunts, snapping his hips harder against yours. 

"You're proud of me ?" you mumble, scratching his back with your free hand. 

"So proud" he can't keep his eyes off your breast as they bounce under each of his powerful thrust.

The more he ruts into you, the louder you get, he's intoxicated looking at his cock going in and out of your sopping cunt. It pussy hugs him perfectly and judging by the way you're moaning he can tell you feel good too.  

Sukuna never considered himself a greedy person but for you he might just become one, lifting your legs up on his shoulders, he thrusts deeper in your cunt. As a reaction, you immediately sink your nails deeper in the skin of his back.

"Oh my god i feel you in my toes" you cry, the tingling sensation on your soles making you drunk on the feeling. 

"Yeah?" 

You can only hum in response, air taken out of your lungs. The bedroom sounds like a mess, your excitement makes wet noises under his powerful thrust. Sukuna moans at the way your cunt wraps perfectly around him.  The bed is creaking under both your weights. You've been dreaming about this for so long you can quickly feel yourself reaching your high, you wish your every desire to be fulfilled.

"Sukuna cum inside me please" you beg searching for his ruby eyes. 

Looking down at you he feels his stomach churn. You look so desirable right now, of course he wants to fill your pussy and watch his semen leak out of you, but you're so shifty could you trap him with a kid ? Feeling his hesitation you usher him closer, begging in his ear one more time. 

His resolution easily dies down as your saccharine voice fills his brain. 

"Shit, i'm going to fill you up" he grunts, pushing your gummy walls again and again to satisfy the both of you.  

With one last thrust, the police officer makes you the happiest woman on earth, tainting your insides with his seed as your pussy squeezes him impossibly tighter with sweet release. His sweating body rests on top of yours as he slowly regains his breath. After a moment, he rolls on the side staring at the ceiling, before he can think about anything, you lay on his chest kissing his bare skin.

"I made us dinner if you're hungry I can heat it up" you purr tracing circles on his torso. 

Not saying a word Sukuna wonders if he's ever going to be able to escape you after this. 

[starsinmylatte]

This man is giving me terminal brain rot, istg.

There are so many blurbs and fics about Veritas being rude to an "inferior" significant other, but please think about him with a significant other who is just as smart in an opposite way.

Aka, I want to lovingly bicker with him about our respective areas of medicine and science SO BADLY

Veritas Ratio x GN reader married science bickering and fluff

"Veri, dearest...... Can you explain that theorem one more time? I'm still slightly confused," you sigh, tracing your fingers along the side of the spiral notebook you'd been using to take notes.

As always, your notebook is filled with page after page of scrawled formulas, stray doodles, and hastily added mnemonics. To almost anyone else, they'd be illegible, but to you, they were perfect.

Ratio sighed, resting his chin atop his hand in mild exasperation as he leaned over your shoulder and checked your work. "We should come back to this later if you don't understand it by now. As you well know, beating the information into your brain does not lead to true mastery of the subject."

Your husband certainly had a fearsome reputation as a pedagogue, with some of his students even going so far as to add his name to the word's adjective list in the Intelligentsia Guild Databank, but you knew better. Veritas Ratio could certainly be vitriolic at times, but his actions were always used to benefit as many people as possible. At first, his heart seemed cold and stoney, but there was actually gold hidden underneath the rough surface.

"I didn't say that to you the last time the tables were turned," You pointed out with a softly admonishing smile. "I seem to remember spending all night in the library to help a certain someone finally understand oxidation-reduction reactions."

Veritas scoffed derisively. "You're right, but I do feel the need to point out that you had fallen asleep at the table and were drooling onto my textbook when it finally clicked."

"So..... you're going to deny that my many patient explanations helped?" You looked at him with vague amusement, remembering the way he'd launched a piece of chalk across the room after incorrectly identifying the electrophile in one of the practice problems.

"No, no. Just food for thought." His face softened, and a small, indulgent smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Although, I am afraid that I'll have to insist we at least get something to eat after this attempt. You, of all people, should know that your neurons need proper fuel to work at optimum levels."

[mcntsee]

— ★fic recs 'twenty four

Hi! This is a masterlist for all my fic recs. This list will continue to update as I read and find more things to add. Credits go to the respective authors!

↳ Please make sure to check out the warning on each fic. Some of them contain stuff that might be triggering for some readers!

keys;

🫐 — angst

☁️ — fluff

🎧 — nsfw

spencer reid recs;

— ★ series;

↳ trouble almost all my life by @januaryembrs [ongoing] ☁️🫐

summary: the one time the bau needs you + the four times you need them.

↳ twisted by @dreamwritesimagines [completed] 🫐☁️

summary: no one can outrun their past.

↳ pierced by @rynbutt [completed] ☁️🎧

summary: moving into a new apartment in a new city is stressful, what's even more stressful is when there's a fucking murder in the apartment across from yours... at least the fbi agent is cute.

↳ american teenager by @lanascinnamongirls [ongoing] ☁️🫐

summary: all it took was one case. one case and you were back in your small town in your home state of missouri.

↳ say that you love me by @none-of-your-bullshit [completed] 🫐☁️🎧

summary: what happens when an ex cia operative survives an attempted murder and is plucked straight out of georgetown by david rossi?

↳ do you believe me now by @nereidprinc3ss 🎧

— ★ stand alone:

↳ forgiven by @reiding-writing 🫐☁️

summary: you lied to him with good intentions, but when he finds out the truth he says something detrimental in the heat of the moment. After weeks of radio silence any chance of reconciliation is almost lost after you get critically injured in the field.

kaz brekker recs;

— ★ series;

nothing here yet…

— ★ stand alone:

↳ three taps by @happyyyandcrazyyy 🫐☁️

summary: kaz taps three times. it’s his way to say i love you, i care.

↳ dive into the waves below by @rubysunnday 🫐☁️

summary: pekka rollins's reign is over and it's time for the new king to take his place (or kaz settles into his new office and his beaten face needs some tending to)

↳ alright by @liberty-barnes 🫐☁️

summary: you’ve been flirting with kaz ever since you started working as his bartender. systematic rejection gets tiring after a while, but sometimes all you need is a good chat and a large bottle of vodka.

↳ bloody hands by @rubysunnday 🫐☁️

summary: kaz never feels the need to explain his entire plan. he knows that, whatever happens, it will inevitably go according to plan. but when his plan goes wrong and y/n is injured, kaz is suddenly forced to comprehend with the skeletally hand of death once again.

↳ initials by @triptuckers ☁️

summary: for as long as the crows can remember, you’ve worn a ring with initials on it, and they’ve been trying to figure out what they stand for ever since

↳ love story by @luna-writes-stuff ☁️

summary: kaz hasn’t known life without you at his side. he doesn’t see reason for you to abandon him any time soon and he isn’t planning on letting you go either.

↳ what do you want from me? by @rubysunnday 🫐☁️

↳ this is what happens by @fishley 🫐

summary: a look into the journey of kaz losing another person he loves and how it not only affects himslef, but everyone around him.

↳ dark days by @rubysunnday 🫐☁️

summary: mr and mrs rietveld. a locked vault and approximately ten minutes of air left. what could possibly go wrong.

↳ his star by @alpurrtwhizkersss 🫐☁️

summary: kaz saves reader from drowning

↳ dust and rubble by @writing-havoc 🫐☁️

summary: a plan goes wrong. you get injured. kaz tries to help-

↳ pocket watch by @writing-havoc ☁️

summary: after years of patient progression on his phobia, kaz finds the opportunity to reciprocate

↳ call me what you like by @sophierequests ☁️

summary: kaz and the reader have been married for quite some years now, unbeknownst to their friends. but what if a slip up causes this shared secret to come to the surface?

↳ sweetheart by @bloodwrittenballad ☁️

summary: kaz's reaction to you calling him sweetheart

↳ the way of the water by @bubbles-for-all-of-us 🫐☁️

summary: reader is a tidemaker and during a heist kaz falls into the water and she uses her powers to pull him out and helps him through a panic attack

simon "ghost" riley recs;

— ★ series;

nothing here yet…

— ★ stand alone:

↳ alive by @criminalamnesia 🫐

summary: simon loses you

↳ phantom touch by @ghostheartfelt 🫐☁️

summary: you and the 141 are deployed to austria with the intel of a drug boss known as rolmuth who is harboring romanian soldiers to the east coast to smuggle illegal mercenary personnel into america. what happens when a rapid snowstorm picks up and you are separated from the others then further captured and interrogated alongside your lieutenant?

alastor;

— ★ series;

↳ a doe in fall by @hazelfoureyes [ongoing] 🎧

summary: a burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. the chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

↳ painted smile by @worldofkuro [ongoing]🫐☁️

summary: you couldn't wait to meet new friends. what you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

↳ deer dolly by @ohproserpine ☁️🫐

summary: “wife?!” angel dust cut her off, jaw dropping. “freaky face is married?”

↳ a misconduct of love by @hurthermore [ongoing] 🫐(☁️)

summary: control was something you always severely lacked in. so when a radio host enters your life, and seems to yearn to not only posses you, but for you to posses him in turn, you indulge in a love affair with the man your husband introduced you to.

— ★ stand alone:

nothing here yet…

hobbie brown;

— ★ series;

nothing here yet…

— ★ stand alone:

↳ where's my love by @autumn-hiraeth 🫐

summary: hobie's cannon event

[prosciuttoon]

Toshiro/Shuro is overhated

(mirror of my thread on twitter)

ever wanted to talk abt something so bad but u have so many thoughts so u cant even begin to organize a sentence. thats me abt shuro and its why i cant give my thoughts on him. i NEED to get this out of my system bc its takign up so much memory in my brain i need that space for thinking.

so i was really surprised to find so much hate for him even tho he seems pretty normal and rational out of the whole cast. ive deducted that its mostly abt his laios fight and that the ppl who hate him probably had bad experiences w social cues and relationships w neurotypicals bc of that. theres no way to avoid it bc its pretty much Right In Your Face that laios is ND. but thats not the only factor in why their relationship is rocky. its also the culture barrier. u have to understand toshiro was raised as JAPANESE NOBILITY ofc he would be a little conservative

also culture shock. idk if u know this but jp culture is very Mind Your Own Business like a lot of other asian cultures . ofc hes gonna be weirded out by a stranger invading his space. also his names not even Shuro. its just yt ppl not pronouncing his name right and settling for whats easiest.

img src: fan translation by savaralyn2 , i think its from the adventurers bible Complete Edition bc i dont remember it in the old one

ok you get the gist of the culture aspect of it. lets go into the ND/NT clash aspect of it. yes i understand its pretty hurtful to never be told when youre acting inappropriately. i am autistic too lmao. but you have to understand that shiro is one guy and he even does realize that repressing things is one of his fatal flaws. again. asian culture. non confrontational. that sorta thing. but these are genuine frustrations. if i were him id be annoyed too but id speak out about it. set boundaries. bc im blunt. shiros not. he was taught crazy strict manners (hierarchies, respect, politeness, etc).

his problem isnt ableism its a culmination of culture barriers, how he was raised to behave, and terrible lack of communication as thing caused by "all of the above" plus he just generally keeps to himself a lot which means repressing frustrations that will explode leading to a pathetic fistfight while hes starved, exhausted, and dehydrated. also. if he was ableist he would hate laios. he doesnt hate laios. at the end of the day, they are friends. NT and ND ppl can be friends u know. there will be rifts (like their fight) but you just have to communicate misunderstandings. theyre gonna be fine lol

anyways that was my whole spiel abt it. i think i got everything out that i wanted to? my head still feels a little full so i may add more later when i remember something

also i think its a little unfair to rule out the possibility of laios and him just being 2 very different kinds of ND bc its very common for misunderstandings to occur even then. EVERYONE IS DIFFERENT BUT WE NEED TO COMMUNICATE TO UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER! but for the sake of interpreting the Fight as a commentary on NT social rules and ND frustration, ill say toshiros NT. will we ever know? hes so far in the sidelines... youd really have to dig in the extra content to see the intricacies of his character.... please give him a chance

[picturebird]

Shipping Alastor Hot Tip:

If you want to ship Alastor from Hazbin Hotel with another character, here’s how you can do that while respecting his asexuality. Don’t worry it’s easy!

Figure out under what circumstances he can feel sexual attraction.

Is it only someone he’s closely bonded to? (Demisexuality)

Is it only when he knows they are attracted to him? (Reciprosexuality)

Is it only when he doesn’t have a close bond with someone and it goes away when they get close? (Fraysexuality)

You don’t have to use micro labels (labels can be problematic at times) but looking into the ace umbrella is definitely important. If you’re writing a fic, all you need is one sentence addressing this and then you can move on to the spicy stuff if you want to. It’ll make whatever relationship you’re writing even more special!

Here’s a link:

There’s been a lot of stress in the fandom over shipping Alastor and I think it’s mostly a misunderstanding (sadly not entirely at times).

People should be able to ship who they want, but ace people (who don’t have a lot of media rep) shouldn’t be erased. It can be hard when you love a character who’s like you and all the content you see about them is taking away that one thing you have in common. At times, that dismissal can feel like hate. But it is completely understandable if you find joy/pleasure in specific ships and want to express those feelings. I’m sure aegosexuals and fictosexuals (also ace) can relate to that too. Finding that balance is something the queer community as a whole is still working on.

Just be kind, be respectful and remember a character being ace doesn’t take away anything it only adds to them.

It’s not a restriction. It’s an opportunity :)

Have fun!

PS please reblog so more of the fandom gets this

[amazing-nightcrawler]

NIGHTCRAWLER WEEK 2024 NOV. 11 - 17

Welcome Nightcrawlers!

The Amazing-Nightcrawler is proud to present our first NIGHTCRAWLER WEEK featuring our favorite Fuzzy Blue Elf, Kurt Wagner aka The Amazing Nightcrawler! We hope you'll join in & participate! See you in November!

Nightcrawler Week Prompts

Day 1 - Circus or Swashbuckler Day 2 - Fangs or Fashion Day 3 - Shadows or The Silver Screen Day 4 - Alternate Universe or What if...? Day 5 - Family or Abilities Day 6 - Romance or Team Leader Day 7 - Creator's Choice

Alternative Prompts

Sword Devotion Trapped Abandoned Exhibitionist Hope

Nightcrawler Week Ao3 Collection - Opens Nov. 11 2024

Creators can use one or both prompts for each day. Alternative Prompts are available for additional inspiration; Creators can swap out a daily prompt for an alternative prompt or use it in combination with a daily prompt or not at all. Creator's Choice can use any prompt in the list or whatever the Creator's heart desires.

Please read all FAQ's & Rules located under the read more. If you have any questions then drop the Mods an Ask. The Amazing Nightcrawler Discord is accepting new members! This is an 18+ Marvel Discord server. Please read & follow all rules upon joining.

FAQ's

What is Nightcrawler Week?

Nightcrawler Week is a Marvel Fandom Event created by Nightcrawler Fans for Nightcrawler Fans, with fanworks featuring Kurt Wagner, aka Nightcrawler.

I want to be creator, how do I join?

No sign ups, no checks, just create whatever you feel like creating! Choose one or all of the prompts. Please read and follow all rules to be a part of this event.

What type of fanworks are accepted?

All types of fanwork are accepted; light, dark, fluff, angst, romantic or platonic, etc. please be sure to tag properly. Fanworks include: Fanfiction, Fanart, Podcasts, Edits, Playlists, Podfics, Moodboards, Aesthetics, Gifs, etc. You may commission work to be submitted but it must be created for this event, so no reposting an older work for this. Due to Tumblr's restrictions we cannot reblog anything that is explicitly N S F W, but we can reblog links to N S F W creations that are hosted on other sites.

What media is accepted?

Any and all media that features Kurt Wagner this includes; Comics, Animation, Movies, and Video Games.

Do I have to create to participate?

Not necessarily, while creating is highly encouraged, we also value the fans who wish to participate in the event by sharing, reblogging, commenting, and supporting Creators works!

When does Nightcrawler Week open?

Nightcrawler Week opens on November 11th, Kurt's Birthday! The week closes on November 17th. During this time Mods will be checking the #nightcrawlerweek tag to reblog creations to this blog. So don't forget to tag with #nightcrawlerweek or @amazing-nightcrawler so we can see your posts! You can also add to our Ao3 collection.

RULES

1. No Racism. Racism in any form will not be tolerated nor accepted. Kurt was raised in a Romani Family, please be mindful and respectful about their culture.

2. No Pedo, Incest, Pseudo Incest fanworks (such as Amanda/Kurt where they are raised as adopted siblings or Rogue/Kurt.) (However X-Men Evolution Amanda/Kurt is accepted as a ship pairing.)

3. Absolutely NO AI generated fanworks, including art or writing.

4. No Nightcrawler x Reader, Character Imagines, Kinships, Selfship x Nightcrawler. (OC x Nightcrawler ships are welcome!)

5. Kurt is not a furry, or an alien/demon/catboy, he is a Human Mutant, please be mindful to not dehumanize Kurt.

6. Don't like? Don't Read! You, the fan, are responsible for your comfort in fandom. If there is something that upsets you then please take the steps necessary to remove yourself from that situation.

7. Tag your triggers! Please remember to properly tag your work!

8. You must use #nightcrawlerweek in the first 5 tags of your post so that Mods will be able to find your work and share. You may also use @amazing-nightcrawler to tag us on your posts.

Mods will not share any works that does not comply with the rules. We strive to be a supportive & fun community, no drama or racism will be tolerated.

[freshlove-sturn]

house on the cape.

pt 1 pt2

based on last friday’s video bc im obsessed with it. (events that happened in the vlog may not be in order just so the story flows how i want, also might add or get rid of some things for that same reason ofc). definitely gonna be multiple parts if yall like it so please let me know!!

summary: when the triplets come back home from la, they reunite with their favorite summer tradition, staying in the house on the cape. amidst all of the familiar laughter, and reminiscing on old memories, y/n can’t ignore the feeling stirring in her heart. something that went deeper than friendship. as she grapples with the fact that her feelings for her lifelong best friend, matt, are more than what’s just at the surface, she must learn to navigate and balance the unspoken feelings, and the gut wrenching fear of risking it all.

a/n: sorry guys but i think im scrapping all my old fics. i just have lost interest in them and i dont want to give yall something that i just half assed yk. i just need something new 😖🙏 don’t hate me pls. also i didn’t proof read and i never do so hopefully this all makes sense LMAO

……………………..

“BOYS TRIP!” chris shouts through the house.

the triplets are back in boston from being in la. i’d be lying if i said that i didn’t wish that these visits would last forever. being across the country from my best friends sucked.

“oh yeah , and you’ll be there too. you’re one of the boys.” chris points at me, smiling before loading the car with our bags.

“chris please never say that again.” i cringe, but fail to keep in my laughter.

“i agree. that was disgusting.” nick chimes in.

“just wanted to make sure you know you’re included.” chris throws his hands up in defense.

“thanks.” i smile and shake my head before getting in the car.

we were staying at their house in cape cod, something all of us looked forward to each summer growing up.

we arrive at nate’s house to pick him up. after the group effort of showering him in compliments for his new hair cut, we get back in the car.

sandwiched between nick and nathan, i check the time on my phone. nick grabs my wrist and moves it out of the way to give himself a better view of my lock screen.

“that is such a cute picture.” he says admiringly. it was a picture of matt and i. the picture was taken from behind while matt gave a piggy back ride back to the car because my feet hurt from wearing heels to madison’s concert.

“you took it.” i laugh.

“i know. i really out did myself huh.” he hypes himself up. i smile and roll my eyes.

once we get to the cape house, we unload the car. all of our bags scattered haphazardly throughout our respective rooms. the same rooms each of us have stayed in for years. nate with chris, nick with matt, and me, having been the only girl, with my own room.

“let’s go to the beach!” nate walks out into the kitchen, clapping his hands together.

…

the beach was just within walking distance. matt and i fell behind the rest of the group.

“i’m so glad you’re back.” i tell him.

“me too. i missed you.” he replies.

“i missed you too.” i admit. “a lot.” i look up and meet his eyes. we just stare at each other for a second. we didn’t really need to say anything. it was almost just a mutual understanding that each other were our favorite person.

if only he knew the extent.

the only person i’ve confided in about my feelings for matt was nate. which was precisely why he kept shooting me knowing glances anytime matt and interacted. nate swore that he knew i was in love with matt for years, before i even knew myself.

i can’t exactly pinpoint when i fell in love with my best friend, but i do remember when i realized.

flashback

matt and i sit together in the hammock string between two large oak trees in the backyard of the cape house. the gentle breeze swaying us back and forth softly. the sun was going down just to the right of us. beautiful pink and orange hues paint the sky.

“i could stay right here forever.” matt breaks the silence that had fallen between us.

“me too.” i reply softly.

“oh hey i have something for you” he digs his hand around in his pocket and pulls out a baby pink seashell. he hands it it me.

“i’ve never seen a pink one like that before.” he tells me as i admire the gift.

“me either. i love it. thanks matt.” i smile sweetly at him.

“of course.” he returns the smile.

i feel the heartbeat in my chest racing and my cheeks heating up. the feeling i had been carrying around with me for quite some time became abundantly clear.

i was in love with my best friend.

when i got home that night, i tied a string around the shell, and wore it as a necklace. and i haven’t taken it off since.

end of flashback

that was back when we were 16. 4 whole years i’ve gone hiding my biggest secret from the one person i told everything to.

our gaze was interrupted by chris. “jesus, yall are some slow pokes” he hollers back at us.

we both laugh and pick up out pace.

soon we arrive at the beach. i’ve always loved the beach. it truly is my happy place.

especially when i’m with matt.

nick snaps pictures here and there.

“oh my gosh matt look! this is just like your tattoo!” i hold out a shell to him.

“oh shit you’re right.” he holds out his arm, revealing his tattoo.

“that’s sick.” chris admires the similarity while nick takes a picture.

…

later that night, we all sit in the living room debating on what movie to watch.

“chris im not watching planet of the apes again. we’ve watched it like 9 times already.” nick argues, shutting down chris’s pleads.

“how about grown ups?” matt suggests.

“yes i love that movie.” nate agrees.

“that’s fine with me.” nick shrugs and starts typing it in.

“is that good with you?” matt leans down to where i was sitting in front of him, his voice soft and genuine.

“yeah that’s good with me.” i tell him.

he smiles and pats the spot on the couch next to him, gesturing me to come sit up there with him. i stand up from my spot on the floor and sit down next to him. he drapes a blanket over the both of us.

about an hour or so into the movie, my eyes get heavy. i lean my head on matt’s shoulder, to which he responds with wrapping his arm around me. this was nothing out of the ordinary. there’s pictures going back to when we were in preschool of the two of us practically fused together passed out on the living room floor.

suddenly, a gentle shake of my shoulders woke me up from a sleep i hadn’t even known i fell into. my eyes flutter, slowly regaining focus. when they do, i’m met with matt’s gentle blue eyes.

“hey, you wanna go lay down in your bed? i don’t want your neck to be sore.” he asks, genuinely concerned for my comfort.

i look around, everyone else appeared to have gone into their rooms.

“yeah i probably should.” i say through a yawn.

matt grabs my hand and helps me stand up from the couch. we walk down the hallway. my room came before his and nicks.

“goodnight matt.” i say, slowly turning the doorknob.

“goodnight y/n. see ya in the morning.”

i toss and turn in bed, unable to fall asleep. i stand up from bed, and leave my room. slowly making my way to the kitchen to get a drink, careful to not wake anyone up.

i open the fridge and grab a water. before i can take a sip, i hear a familiar voice behind me.

“can’t sleep?” the sudden breach of silence made me jump a little. i turn around and see matt. he was leaned up against the door frame. his sweatpants falling dangerously low on his figure, his arm under his shirt itching his shoulder, exposing his midriff.

“nope. you?” i set my water down on the counter.

“hm mm” he replies.

we stand in silence for a few moments before matt breaks the silence again.

“wanna go to the beach?”

….

a/n: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LMK IF YALL LIKE THIS. SUGGESTIONS ALWAYS WELCOME AND MY INBOX IS ALWAYS OPEN 🙏 i’m using my old taglist, so lmk if you want taken off or added to it!

taglist: @honestlybabymiracle @pepsiimaxx @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattestrella @luvmxtt @rac00ns-are-c00l4

[thezombieprostitute]

Imagine this:

accountant!reader x IT tech!Jensen x manager!Andy x CEO!Lloyd

The intent was to write something short and sweet but smutty. The result is approximately 2200 words with a ton of smut! I blame Lloyd.

Warnings: Power dynamics; Creepy boss; Smut, smut, SMUT! Minors DNI!!!!

“Thank you, Jake,” you half whisper, half moan into his ear. “I really needed this.” You’re not normally one for hookups in the supply closets but you’d had such a stressful day you really needed to let off some steam. Thankfully Jake was always happy to help you out. And he was very good at helping you feel good. 

The two of you had a friends-with-benefits situation that had been carefully negotiated and navigated. Sometimes you got the sense that Jake wanted more and that’s why he was so eager to please. But you were both quick to talk if either of you felt things were getting too serious. It definitely made office parties a lot more fun. Everyone else was enjoying the cheap food and you and Jake got to go to a private office and actually take your time together.

You both do try to be careful at the office but your manager, Andy, has been really ramping up the sad sack shtick with all the women in your department, desperate for a date or some feminine attention and pity. You could only take so much, especially when your coworkers pointed out to him that you’re single. Traitors. 

Every day he would ask you about your plans. You tried being polite and got nowhere. You finally told him, directly, that you weren’t interested in him last Friday. Today you were called into a meeting with HR about “appropriate workplace behavior”. They told you they’d received complaints from your manager about flirting with him despite him telling you “no”. You smiled tightly and nodded, staying quiet and signing the documents saying you’d been talked to. 

You texted Jake on your phone to meet you in the hall closet. One of the things you appreciated? He didn’t ask questions, he just showed up and gave you what you needed. He really seemed to like it when you would repeatedly whisper “thank you’s” into his ear. It’s only a quickie but it definitely helps. You kiss Jake’s cheek and thank him as he blushes. You leave at different times and head back to your respective desks.

 You check your email and find yourself looking at an appointment with Lloyd Hansen, the company’s CEO. Thinking it must’ve been in error you hit the “Decline” button and add the most polite note that you can think of. Just a few minutes after you get yet another appointment notice with Mr. Hansen. No explanatory note. You’re extra grateful to Jake because your brain immediately jumps to Andy complaining about you to Mr. Hansen because your HR visit wasn’t enough of a punishment. 

The appointment is for tomorrow so you silently stew for the rest of the workday. At home you treat yourself to your favorite meal and shows. Your sleep is full of stressful dreams and you wake up more exhausted than when you went to bed. Not wanting to look like a mess in front of Mr. Hansen, you make sure to take extra care of your makeup and clothing choices. Working as hard as your caffeine deprived can to balance “I’m okay” with “I’m not trying to flirt with anyone”. It’s never an easy task.

As you log on to your computer you smell Andy’s cologne and internally wince. You turn to face him, “yes, Mr. Barber?”

“Easy there, tiger,” he chastised. “I just want to make sure that you’re doing okay after that HR meeting.”

Gritting your teeth you reply, “why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well I know a lot of people can have a kind of whiplash when they realize their behavior isn’t acceptable,” he explains in an obviously condescending tone. “I’ll understand if you want to take some vacation time.”

“Mr. Barber,” you seethe, “I think what would help me the most is keeping some distance between us at all times in the office.”

“Okay,” he scoffs. “Just remember who it is that HR listens to.” He walks away and you find yourself trying to not throw or break something. 

As soon as you can you head straight to Mr. Hansen’s office. His secretary lets you in, though he is not yet in. You should probably be upset that he’s late for the meeting he insisted on having with you but it’s better than sitting in your cubicle waiting for Andy to strike. 

The quiet is broken by Mr. Hansen storming into the office, yelling at someone on the phone. You recognize him immediately if only because of the mustache. “And I told you to handle it, Six! Get your head out of your ass and fix it!” He lets out a small huff as he listens to the person on the phone. “I don’t give a shit. It should’ve been handled weeks ago. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a meeting.” He hangs up without waiting for a response and turns to you with a smile that makes you feel like prey caught in a trap.

“So you’re the girl Barber was complaining out,” he starts. You’re unable to hold back your grimace and he laughs. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I don’t give a shit about that cuck.” You tilt your head in confusion. “See, he tried to play up the whole “women don’t know how to take a compliment” thing but I was able to see through him. He’s pathetic and you weren’t having it. Even flat out told him, “no”. That’s something I respect. Not everyone would do that to their boss.”

He sits down in his chair and continues, “so I started looking into you and imagine my surprise when I find out you and Jensen are hooking up!” Your eyes widen in shock and you start stammering before he holds out a hand, gesturing for you to stop. “You’re not in trouble for that. Hell if I could get laid instead of attending those lame work parties I absolutely would. Which is why I brought you here.” 

He leans his elbows on the desk, “I want in on whatever fuck-buddy deal you and Jensen got going on.”

“S..sir, I,” you’re at a loss for words. 

“Tell you what,” he slaps the desk and stands up, “I’ll make it easy for you. Either you agree to be my own fuck-buddy, occasionally still get some good stuff from Jensen, or I’ll make you Barber’s personal secretary.”

“What if I quit instead?”

“Then I’ll go ahead and fire Jensen,” he quips. “It would be a damn shame, though. Jakey is one of the best IT guys we got. Likely up for a promotion that would get him a private office.”

“Can I talk to Jake first,” you plead. “It is part of our arrangement that we communicate changes before they’re implemented.”

“You know what, sure. I can respect that a deal is a deal.” He goes to the phone on his desk and tells his secretary to send Jake up.

When Jake does arrive he’s shocked to see you. At Lloyd’s gesture he closes the door behind him. Lloyd doesn’t let you speak and lays everything out for him like he did you. 

Jake looks at you, “it’s…umm…I appreciate you looking out for me and my job,” he starts. “But it’s also your body and I would never want you to accept something like this just for me.”

“You know, Jakey here has a point,” Lloyd interjects. “You really don’t know what you’re in for with me. How about a demonstration? I’ll even let Jake join in to help keep you comfortable.”

Knowing that you were being watched shouldn’t excite you so much. The fact that both of these men wanted you was making you wet. You straddle Jake in his chair and start making out with him while taking off your clothes and grinding your hips against his crotch. 

Jake moans as he takes off your bra with practiced ease, “you’re sure about this?” 

“Feel how wet I am, Jake.” He obliges and sticks his fingers inside your panties. He rubs your clit and you arch your breasts into his face as his eyes widen at the wetness he finds there. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes. He gets a dark glint in his eye that you don’t entirely recognize. He removes his hand and starts to unbutton your pants. “You gotta taste her, Mr. Hansen. Sweetest pussy and it’s already drenched.”

You hadn’t realized Lloyd was standing behind you until he grabbed your breasts, lifting you a little as he nibbled your neck. He pulls you off of Jake and the two of them finish undressing you before setting you on Lloyd’s desk. You’re on your back, your head hanging over one side, your legs spread wide for the both of them. 

Lloyd doesn’t hesitate and dives tongue first into your pussy. Your reaction is immediate as he uses his mustache to tickle your clit. You throw your head back and moan before you’re able to stifle it. 

He pulls away from you, “don’t worry about noise, sweetheart. My secretary is gone for the afternoon and no one else would dare be on this floor.” He turns to Jake, “you were right! This is a damn tasty snack.” He gets back to it and you don’t hold back your sounds. It was such a relief to get to be as loud as you wanted. 

“Fuck, I love those sounds,” Jake groans.

You reach out to him, “your cock, Jake? Please, can I stroke your cock?”

“Love those sounds, too,” he grins as he undoes his belt. You look to Lloyd to see if he has any objections but he’s too focused on licking up all of your juices. Jake is already half hard and your hands know just how to get him fully erect. His hands start playing with your tits, gently pinching, pulling and fondling. 

The two of them quickly bring you to the brink of orgasm, then Lloyd sticks two of his fingers inside you and it pushes you over the edge. You cum loudly and Lloyd keeps scissoring his fingers while sucking on your clit, enjoying the show. When the aftershocks fade, he removes his hand and backs away just a little.

“Jensen, you take her mouth,” he orders. “I’m gonna make a mess of this pussy and I want to hear her choking on your cock while I do.”

You let go of Jake’s erection and he starts pushing himself into your mouth, grunting and moaning as he does so. He’s careful with you, like always, and places your hand on his thigh so you can signal if it gets too much.

Lloyd, however, lines himself up with your opening and quickly thrusts himself fully inside. If your mouth wasn’t so full of Jake’s cock, you’d likely have screamed. They fucked both of your holes with abandon and you were loving every second of it. Occasionally Jake would ask for a status and you’d tap his thigh twice for “all good”. 

“Not gonna last much longer,” Lloyd admitted. “This pussy is so fucking tight. I see why you risked your job for her.” He started rubbing your clit and you careened towards another orgasm. As soon as Jake came in your mouth you were done for. You tightened your legs around Lloyd as you came hard and swallowed all of Jake’s spend. You heard Lloyd mumbling, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” before he came with a yell. 

You’re still in a daze as both men pull out of you. Lloyd whistles, “now that’s a pretty picture. What say we get you cleaned up?”

“What the fuck?!” A voice from the office door crashes your post-orgasm euphoria. You look up and see Andy, standing in the doorway.

“Ah, Barber,” Lloyd says as he zips his pants back up. “Right on time.”

“What?!” Jake exclaims as you look, wide-eyed, at Lloyd. 

“You see, Andy,” he walks over to your manager and claps him on the shoulder. “You’re a complete cuck and we both know it.” Andy tries to protest but Lloyd cuts him off. “This is the closest you’re ever going to get to some pussy. Now be a good boy and clean up the mess I made.” He throws Andy to his knees in front of your spread pussy. 

Andy groans at the sight and you feel a stir of courage. “Well,” you scold. “Are you going to be a good boy and do as you're told or am I going to have to clean myself up?” His eyes darken but you don’t back down. He dives into your cum filled pussy and starts cleaning you up.

“Good boy,” Lloyd smirks. “Probably the only way you can actually please a woman.” He looks at Jake, “whenever you’re done with her, call her cuck over to clean up. Sound good?”

Jake looks to you and sees you writhing with pleasure, “I think so.”

Tagging @alicedopey because I promised I would.

[indulgentdaydream]

I don’t know if you’ve done this yet but headcanon for what it’s like when reader and Jason get into arguments! (Fluff and angst please!)

coming right up!

I feel like it's very divided in the community on how Jason is in an argument

Some say he gets angry and shouts, some say he'll just walk away immediately, some say something completely different

I feel like it depends on the situation really.

If it's something minor, like arguing over how the dishes should be done, then you guys are talking to each other normally again within two minutes (or at least he is)

if it's something a little more major, (example: either you not taking care of yourself properly or jason not taking care of himself properly) it may take a few hours to a day to resolve it

the most severe i think jason would go is maybe three days at most with no contact before he's reaching out to you again

okay I'mma write a blurb on that now

Jason couldn't stand it. He had been in his apartment, trying to clean his guns. It was routine. Disassemble. Organize. Clean. Reassemble. Test. Done. He'd done it a thousand times. But he just couldn't focus.

His mind was circling around your argument.

He had tried to bring up something about one of your bad habits. Something about your work and your schedule that he couldn't even remember the specifics of.

Thinking back on it, he shouldn't have brought it up when he had. You were agitated. Frustrated to begin with. Overwhelmed. It had been because of your schedule. Jason had commented on how you should look into it.

"You should take better care of yourself. I hate seeing you like this."

It was the wrong choice of words.

You had blown up on him, twisting his words back at him.

"I should take better care of myself? Really? Why don't you go take a look in the mirror before you come nitpicking my life, Jason."

He had gotten offended. He had only been trying to help.

"What the hell you yelling at me for?"

You spun around to face him, the two of you on opposite sides of the kitchen, "You tell me to take better care, yet what do you do for yourself? Everyday I feel like I'm asking you to be careful out there and everyday you don't respect my wishes!"

"It's my job!"

"It's not a job!"

Jason doesn't remember that much after that, either.

He shouldn't have yelled back. You were right. You were right and you were tired and frustrated and he hadn't been there for you like he should have.

You had stormed out shortly afterwards, saying more about how he didn't respect you or your wishes.

He hated admitting that you were right about that, too. It wasn't intentional disrespect, he just hadn't acted right.

He left the pieces of his gun on the table and stood up.

I need to apologize to the love of my life.

...

You were sitting in your apartment, watching TV, when you heard the doorbell ring.

You got up, not caring that you were dressed in your pyjamas still, your regular pyjama shirt replaced with one of Jason's.

In a way, you felt horrible about the argument with Jason, too. You shouldn't have snapped at him. You should've brought up your concerns about his vigilante work a different time in a more polite, adult-like manner. It was eating at you, yet you had no idea if he was ready to talk again yet.

You opened the door without looking through the peep hole first, something that Jason would've chided you for, only to find the man himself standing in your doorway.

He was dressed in his motorcycle gear, a helmet in one hand, a bouquet of flowers in the other.

"I'm sorry."

It's up to you to accept his apology or not i'm sorry but i don't know how to finish this.

add in the notes how y'all would apologize KEEP IT PG PEOPLE

[goosita]

Can you PLEASE give us some head canons/ bullet points about reader and politician!snow’s relationship, esp from them first getting together to now! I am Obsessed!!!! Sending so much love!!!!

ABSOLUTELY I CAN. these are mostly from coryos pov since the series is written more from readers perspective

first of all, coryo has been obsessed with you from the moment you walked in for your job interview. he literally didnt even read the resumes of any other candidates after he met you

somewhere between the gala date and now, he started placing a fresh rose in a small glass vase on your desk every single day. it always matches whatever color rose he wears on his suit lapel that day. he has never mentioned it, its just something he Does

he’s told tigris all about you. in fact, it was tigris’ idea for you to be his date to the gala that night that changed everything. neither of them would ever admit it to you, but coriolanus talks about you like a schoolboy with a crush, and tigris finds it so sweet.

minor detail but in part 3 when you go to tell him where you live and he says he remembers that it’s the same street an old friend lived on, he’s talking about sejanus 🫶🏻

coryo also knew from the very beginning that you were into him LMAO he knows he's very handsome and he clocked it immediately. it has never gone unnoticed, the way you look at him or the way you react to his closeness or his touches. he's always known and that's why he was so confident in flirting with you in the beginning.

we all know he's a little.....controlling. and especially Possessive. that's why a lot of the time he calls you by a term of endearment or pet name, it starts with "my" (MY darling, MY love, MY sweet girl) this was a very very pointed choice in the way i write in him hehe

you don't know this, but he has instructed (read: threatened) EVERY member of his staff and every employee who works beneath him to treat you with the upmost respect. they have all been firmly told to make your job as easy as possible and to be as polite and courteous to you as they possibly can. also, he doesn't give a fuck about "professionalism" when it comes to you; everyone knows he has a sweet spot for you and he doesn't particularly care how that might look. he has enough power that nobody would dare say anything about it.

you also don't know the full extent of this, but coryo is wrapped around your little finger. anything in the world that he could give you, it would be yours if you said the word. it's why he was so quick to send you home sick and care for you with his little package of medicine and remedies. he would do anything in his power to make you happy. your joy is his joy and your needs are just as important as his own.

his love language is acts of service and gifts. clearly.

if i think of more, i'll def add them!!! but yeah this is off the top of my head <3

[vashs-turtleneck]

Blow Me a Kiss.

♡ A Vash the Stampede Christmas smut special 🎄

Rating: EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY) Summary: Cleaning up the decorations left over from your little holiday party, you get a little distracted by Vash standing under the mistletoe. Pairing: Vash the Stampede x reader Word Count: 2.4k Content: smut, pwp, established relationship, oral (m receiving) A/N: Tastefully late. Rushed this a bit so I hope it's okay!

NSFW BELOW, 18+ ONLY, MDNI!!

“Remind me again why we had to have the party in our room?”

“Our room is the biggest. We even have a dining table. I don't think we all would have been very happy if the only place we had to sit was Wolfwood's bed, mayfly.”

“Well Wolfwood didn't have to leave such a mess behind,” you grumble, collecting the empty cans of beer the priest left behind the night before. “Gonna kick his ass when I see him,” you add, hearing a chuckle leave Vash at your little threat. 

It’s a few days after Christmas, and you and Vash are left to clean up the mess left over from the previous night’s festivities. The two of you had decided to do something a little special with the group, decorating your quaint little hotel room with whatever Christmas decorations you two were able to get your hands on, providing everyone with a break from the stresses of rolling with the humanoid typhoon, even for just a night. While running with the typhoon himself stopped the group from being able to celebrate the day of, there was certainly no lack of Christmas spirit when you finally did manage to settle down in a comfortable town and find the time to get a little festive. 

You were especially happy to see some of the tension ease out of Vash’s shoulders as a result, having been granted a brief sense of normalcy that you know he so desperately craves, even if he never says it out loud. After all, nothing quite like spending the holiday season with your friends and loved ones to help you remember the good things in this life (until Wolfwood and Meryl start pestering each other, that is.)

“You had a nice time though, didn't you?” Vash asks from the other side of the room, taking down decorations while you collect empty bottles and dishes. While the two of you could technically leave room service to take care of the mess, neither of you were all too eager to pay the cleaning fee that would result in. Besides, there's something oddly comforting about being able to do something as mundane as clean up after a party with Vash. The mundane is a rare occurrence with him, so you savor it when it's around. 

“Of course I did," you reply sincerely, watching him from the corner of your eye, shamelessly ogling him any moment you get as his long arms effortlessly reach up towards the ceiling to take down some hanging paper Christmas decor, the stretch pulling his shirt up slightly with his arms, teasing you with a tiny peek at his tummy. 

Damn it. How does he always manage to get you all hot and bothered? He’s not even trying!

You watch as Vash walks under the doorway with the hanging mistletoe, his head tilted up to look at it, a little pout formed on his face.

“A shame this didn’t get any use last night. No one respected the rules of the mistletoe.” He says with a sigh and a subtle shake of his head.

“Wolfwood and Roberto didn’t look all too pleased when they walked under it together.” You giggle, recalling the look of shock and disgust the two men gave each other when they found themselves standing beneath the mistletoe, Vash chiming out a teasing and giddy “Ohh! You two need to kiss now!!”

Of course, they didn't, to everyone's dismay.

“Rules are rules.” Vash says very matter-of-factly. “What's the point of a mistletoe if you're just going to ignore the rules? There's no fun in that.”

“Of course, of course. You're so right.” You say back to him playfully, walking up to him and resting your palms on his tapered waist “Speaking of which…” You coo, pointing to the mistletoe hanging above his head.

Vash's eyes twinkle with delight, knowing already where you're pointing to without having to look, keeping his azure eyes trained on your face. “Oh, well would you look at that. I guess you owe me a kiss now, mayfly.” A cocky smirk plastered over his face. 

“Rules are rules.” You lean up towards him, his lips already puckered and waiting to meet yours, his head tilted down towards you. His baby blues half-closed as he waits for you to close off the distance between your lips.

Just as you’re both about to close your eyes, lips just centimeters apart, you see a blur of green fall between the two of you. Vash's reflexes are all too fast, catching the falling item in his flesh hand.

“Whoop– Caught it!” Vash exclaims, opening up his palm, showing the fallen mistletoe in his hand. “Aww… Does this mean I don’t get a kiss anymore?” He whines, pushing out his bottom lip in a cute little pout. 

Your eyes stay fixed on the mistletoe in his palm, holding it in his open hand down by his hips, and a rather lewd idea pops into your head– Something to help ease your boyfriend of any remaining tension he's carrying.

“Mayfly?” Vash interrupts your thoughts,  pulling you out of the lustful haze clouding your mind. “Something wrong, angel?”

You stop gawking at the front of his pants, your eyes rising to meet his. He has a confused and awaiting look on his face as he tries to gauge what it is you're thinking. Without giving him the chance to even ask, you take the mistletoe from his palm, tugging him by the arm and guiding him to the bed just a few feet away, eliciting a startled little yelp from the humanoid typhoon. 

You pull him until he stands with his back to the bed. You can see him about to bring his hands up to reach for you, an obvious look of confusion panting his handsome face. Before he's given the chance to touch you, your palm presses to the front of his shirt and pushes him, forcing Vash to sit back on the bed.

“W-Woah! Hey! What’s gotten into you, mayfly?” He exclaims, part of him admittedly a bit startled by your sudden change in behavior, but the other part of him secretly enjoying being manhandled by you.

You don't answer him as you gently bring yourself to your knees in front of him, hands pressing his thighs apart to give you ample space to settle yourself.

“O-Oh…” Vash visibly gulps at the sight of you kneeled in front of him, his face starting to flush a pretty scarlet, flustered by the implications of how you’re positioned. He can already feel just how much the blood is rushing to his face.

And to his cock.

“I didn't mean to startle you, just had an idea,” you whisper sensually, innocently, your hand caressing his parted thigh as you stare up at him. “This okay?”

“Yeah… Of course it's okay.” Vash's voice is already starting to tremble, unbelievably aroused by the suddenness of your actions, his palms clenching and unclenching on the bed.

You hook the mistletoe to the front of his belt, right by the tent starting to form where his cock strains against the zipper. Then, you bring your head forward, allowing yourself to gently nuzzle your face against the front of his pants, feeling his quickly hardening cock ghost over your lips and cheek through the fabric.

“Shit, mayfly.” Vash grunts, half-lidded eyes focused on the delicious view in front of him, his entire lower half tensing with anticipation of what his lovely mayfly has in store for him.

“Let me give you a little kiss?” You say innocently before pressing your lips against the hard cock under his pants, keeping your eyes fixed on him as you do just to tease him further. He hisses through clenched teeth, fingers gripping into the bedsheets as he tries to stifle the moan rumbling in his chest.

“Was kinda hoping for more than just a kiss.” He whines, his hips inadvertently arching to meet the pressure of your pretty face against his cock.

“Hmm… You're lucky all this Christmas spirit has me feeling generous,” you purr, teasing him a bit more before you place another kiss to the tent in his pants, eliciting another soft whimper from the blonde. “Help me get these down a bit, yeah?”

Vash only nods his head frantically as two eager pairs of hands swiftly move to unbuckle and unzip his pants. His hips rise to help you shimmy the fabric off him just enough to free his aching dick, which bursts out of his boxers so quickly it lightly taps your chin. Your teasing seems to have paid off, as his dangerously thick and long cock stands at attention, already dripping with cloudy beads of precum from the angry red tip.

“So hard already," you coo, wrapping a soft hand around his weeping cock and guiding him to your lips, immediately feeling Vash's thighs tense with anticipation.

“Of course I am. It's you after all," Vash whispers back all too sweetly, glossy blue eyes filled with nothing but adoration for you, so beautifully nestled between his thighs.

He watches as your glossy tongue teasingly runs along the length of his throbbing cock, tracing the large and angry vein he has trailing up his shaft. With your saliva generously coating him, your fist pumps him from the tip to the base, your thumb carefully pressing against the head and earning a precious whimper from the outlaw. A breath of relief leaves him when you finally wrap your soft lips over the tip of his cock, gracing him with the warmth of your tongue and mouth. 

“F-Fuck.” Vash curses under his breath, his warm, calloused hand gently moving to cup your jaw, his thumb tenderly caressing your cheek as you pamper him.

You mewl as you take Vash's twitching cock deeper into the tight channel of your throat, tasting the savory spurts of precum he's gushing into your mouth so liberally. Your pleased hums send vibrations through his all-too-sensitive dick that have him letting out a shaky exhale, his grip on your jaw tightening ever so slightly.

“Goddamn it. Oh please, please…” Vash mewls, his voice coming out as a weak, whimpering sob. “So goddamn good, angel. ‘M not gonna last long if you keep being so perfect.”

His praise sends a rush of tingling heat to your core which only encourages you to pleasure him more passionately, taking his cock down to the base into your greedy mouth until his cute blonde happy trail is tickling your face. You lavish his thick cock with your lips and tongue, your deep moans vibrating through him and shaking him to the marrow.

“E-Easy, baby… Don't push yourself too far.”

Choked gasps and moans leave his parted lips and you feel his hand tighten its grip on your jaw, a sweet, broken symphony of agonized whimpers fill the otherwise silent hotel room along with the sound of wet sucking coming from your lips. His hips stutter, desperately wanting to pump himself into your sweet mouth, but he stills himself, not wanting to accidentally hurt you for the sake of his own pleasure.

"A-Aahh– Feels so good, angel. That's it. Taking me so well... ngh!"

His breaths break, deep, guttural moans and choked whimpers flowing unabashedly off his lips, and you know he's dangerously close. You focus your lips on the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue over the head and hollowing your cheeks as you pump his shaft. 

“G-Gonna come, mayfly. Shit– Please don't stop!”

Like you would ever stop. 

The pleasure is too much for him to hold back, and he begins to lightly thrust his cock into your mouth in tandem with your rhythm, his moans echoing off the walls with every pump of his hips.

Fuck– you are absolutely reeling. Seeing him giving in to his pleasure, allowing himself to take what you are so happy to give him has your thighs quivering with arousal.

You moan with complete abandon as you lavish and worship his cock, letting him press himself into the deep, tight heat of your throat, ignoring the slight ache you feel with every little thrust of his hips. Waves of ecstacy crash against his body, harmonizing with the rhythmic tempo of your loving mouth engulfing his cock over and over until he's thrown over the edge. 

Vash comes with a deep moan that rumbles in his heaving chest, hot strings of cum flooding your mouth. He fights to keep his eyes from rolling back into his head, refusing to miss even a second of the sight of you so lovingly servicing him, watching as you swallow his load with an eagerness that leaves him swooning. What he ever did to deserve you, he'll never know.

You can feel his cock pulsing in your mouth as empties himself into your throat, doing your best to swallow everything he has to give you. A mixture of your own saliva and his cum pools at the corner of your mouth, dripping down your lips and along his shaft, which you of course lap until you've swallowed every bit you could. 

With one last kiss to his cock, you raise yourself off the floor, moving to straddle your boyfriend's lap and sit on his parted legs. Vash’s chest is heaving, breaths labored and shaky, eyes never leaving you as you rise to meet him. He brings his thumb to the corner of your mouth, wiping away the slick mixture of spit and cum you have dripping down your face in an act of gratitude.

“You're breathtaking, angel. Literally.” Vash whispers hoarsely, pulling his thumb away from your mouth.

In response, you grab his wrist, pressing your tongue to his thumb and licking away the remnants of his seed from it, earning a completely obscene moan from the humanoid typhoon.

“Fuck, you're so–” He doesn't finish his words before he's smothering your lips with his own. You swallow Vash's pleasured groan, his calloused hand gently cupping your cheek and holding your face close to his, swirling his tongue in your mouth and tasting himself on your lips.

Vash's kisses are always so warm, so sincere, so passionate, that you don't immediately notice what his prosthetic is up to until you feel the cool metal of one of his fingers ghost over your lower abdomen. Your lips part when you tilt your head down to see what he's doing, seeing the mistletoe hanging from the hem of your own pants now.

“Well would you look at that.” Vash breathes against your cheek, and when your eyes meet his again, you note how glazed over and lust-filled those baby blues are.

“Rules are rules, mayfly.”

divider.

[sagesolsticewrites]

Kiss Me Once

The moment you’ve been anxiously awaiting is finally here— your boyfriend Rosie Rosenthal finally arrives home.

(hi @hellfirequinnie @justheretoreadthxxs @ronsenthal @storysimp)

a/n: hugest of huge shoutouts to Winnie (@winniemaywebber) and Gina (@ginabaker1666) for letting me yell about this fic 24/7, not to mention darling Marina’s (@precious-little-scoundrel) spicy Rosie headcanons which played a huge part in the inspiration for this fic (as well as the future parts I have planned 👀) 💕

Warnings: mentions of death (brief mention of death of a parent, war deaths), mentions of sex, Rosie being a tease 👀, definite historical inaccuracies, if there’s anything else y’all would like me to tag, please let me know!

Word count: 3k

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Masterlist

You pace around the foyer of the Rosenthal apartment impatiently.

Your boyfriend, Robert, was coming home after several long years of war, and he was already ten minutes late.

He had insisted on meeting you all at the apartment instead of greeting him as he got off the train— something sweet about wanting to walk into his home and see you all there— but his train had gotten in on time, so where—

“Y/N, he’ll be here honey,” his mother says gently, exchanging a look with his sister from her place in the kitchen where she’s preparing a spread of Rosie’s favorite foods, “You know how the traffic is, especially today.”

“I know, I know,” you nod, your nervous pacing slowing the tiniest bit, “But he said—”

Your worries are interrupted by a knock on the door, and suddenly you’re frozen in place.

“Well? You gonna answer it?” his sister teases, gesturing at the door.

“But—” You glance between his family and the door, conflicted.

“He’s had enough of us fussing over him,” his mother pipes up, moving to stand next to her daughter, “We all know who he’s really here to see,” she adds with a teasing smile.

You glance down with a smile, trying to will the heat in your cheeks away before you move to finally fling the door open.

It truly doesn’t seem real, the sight that greets you as the door opens.

Robert stands there, dapper in his dress uniform, curls neat, hat tucked neatly under his arm.

He blinks in surprise, as if he wasn’t expecting you to be the one who opened the door, but the shock on his face is quickly replaced with a wide grin.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi,” you gasp as you’re pulled into his arms for a tight hug, burying your face in his neck as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“Missed you so much,” he murmurs softly in your ear before pulling away to take in your face, eyes scanning over your features as if to make sure everything was the same as he remembered.

You do the same, clocking one very noticeable change.

“What’s this?” You laugh, gesturing to your own top lip.

His fingers move self-consciously to the mustache that definitely wasn’t there when he left for flight school.

“Oh yeah, uh… remember I told you I started tryin’ to grow one back in training? Well… it turned into this,” He laughs, meeting your eyes anxiously, “What do you think?”

You rise up into your tiptoes to peck his lips, “I think you look very handsome, my love.”

His hand cups your cheek as you pull away, bringing you back in for a long, tender kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, savoring the feeling of his lips on yours after so long, but the rosy spell the two of you are under is quickly broken by his sister pointedly clearing her throat, ignoring her mother’s scolding look at her interruption.

“Wow, Rosie,” she teases as the two of you break apart, “it’s nice to see that you remembered we’re here too.”

“That’s the best welcome you’ve got for your big brother, Jeanie?” He rolls his eyes playfully, unable to hide his smile as he gives you one last squeeze and goes to greet his family.

“Hi, Ma,” he says, voice thick as he embraces his mother for the first time in far too long.

She clings to him in a long, fierce hug, and he returns it just as fiercely until his sister tackles him from the side.

Rosie lets out an oof, quickly adjusting so he has both of them in an embrace.

The four of you sit down for dinner, conversation flowing nonstop. Even with the frequent letters back and forth, Rosie still had plenty to tell you about his life in England, and his family still had plenty to catch him up on.

As his sister is rambling about work, his hand comes to rest on your knee. Still respectable, of course, but the warmth emanating from him makes it difficult to focus on anything else.

As the night continues, you nearly drop your fork into your mashed potatoes when his hand glides ever so slightly up your leg, slipping just underneath the hem of your skirt. He maintains a straight face, wide grin barely flickering as he teases his sister about the crush she inadvertently mentioned, all while his fingers remain indecently close to your core.

His mother is in the middle of filling him in on all the neighborhood gossip when your glass of water comes very close to slipping out of your hand. You catch it in time, mumbling an excuse about being oddly clumsy tonight, when all you can think about are the featherlight patterns Rosie is tracing on the inside of your thigh.

You shoot a glare at him when his mother and sister are distracted, which he meets with a smile, eyes sparkling with mirth, heat simmering just underneath.

Somehow you manage to fumble through the rest of dinner, contributing with simple nods or “mm hm”s as Rosie’s presence next to you overwhelms your mind. As the meal finishes— complete with a mouthwatering cherry pie— Rosie stands and begins gathering plates. You and his mother stand simultaneously to do the same.

“Ma, please sit down,” Rosie insists gently, “I got it.”

As she opens her mouth to protest, he simply shakes his head.

“It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to do this, yeah? Let me help out. Please.”

Eyes softening at the mention of his being away for so long, she relents, and the two of you gather the remaining dishes.

Mrs. Rosenthal and her daughter move to the living room, soft jazz drifting through the apartment as they turn on the radio while you and Rosie work like a well-oiled machine washing and drying dishes. Er… mostly.

“Robbie!” You yelp as he splashes water up towards you, holding your rag up as a shield. You laugh, retaliating with a reckless swing of the still-damp dishrag.

What follows is a playful water fight where miraculously neither of you get too wet, but does end with you pinned between Rosie and the kitchen counter, his lips moving greedily against yours.

You let out a soft squeal as he pulls away briefly to scatter kisses all over your face and neck, mustache brushing against your skin.

“Robbie, that tickles!”

You can feel him grinning as his lips land on yours once more.

“I missed hearing you laugh.” he murmurs between kisses as his hands wander freely over your dress, “Missed you so, so much, honey.”

“I missed you, too,” you sigh as you reluctantly pull away for air, thumb stroking along his cheekbone as you take him in: mustache and all.

“When you re-enlisted, I—”

You take a breath, forcing back the sudden tears that threaten to spill over.

“I was so scared,” you admit softly, “So incredibly proud of you, of course, because I know that’s who you are: you don’t come home until the fight’s over. But so many people were getting those damn Western Union telegrams telling them that their sons or brothers or friends wouldn’t be coming home, and I couldn’t stand the thought of being one of them.” Your voice trembles, and you take a shaky breath in, pressing your forehead to his, “I couldn’t stand the thought of being without you.”

“Honey,” he says softly, nudging your noses together ever so gently so you meet his eyes, “I love you.”

Those words hang in the air for a heartbeat, words that you had only been able to read in his letters for the past two years, words that you hadn’t heard aloud in far, far too long.

“I love you,” he repeats softly, firmly, the words like an oath on his lips, “and I hated the thought of making you and Ma and Jeanie worry, but… but what I hated more was the thought of going back home when there was still so much evil out there. And the kids who were coming in to replace us… that’s it, they were just kids. I couldn’t leave in good conscience knowing that some teenager was gonna be taking my place in the sky and wasn’t gonna make it home because of me. I saw it happen too many times, and I couldn’t—”

He shakes his head, swallows, and meets your eyes again with a soft smile.

“But I’m home now. And I’m not leaving you anytime soon, yeah?”

He leans in for a tender kiss, one that has you melting down to your toes as he pulls you into his arms, swaying ever so slightly.

“Dance with me, honey? I know it’s no Minton’s,” he chuckles, “But it’ll do.”

He holds you close, twirling you around the kitchen with your head resting on his shoulder as Kitty Kallen’s voice drifts in from the living room, Rosie singing along softly in your ear.

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It's been a long, long time

He always claimed that his ma and Jeanie got all the musical talent, but you loved to hear him sing in the rare moments you got to. You loved it even more in this moment because it meant that he was here. He was home. He was safe. And he was with you.

You stay wrapped in his arms for the duration of the song, and as it fades into the next one— Glen Miller’s crooning “At Last”— he whispers into your ear once more.

“What would you say,” he murmurs, warm breath fanning over your neck, “if I asked you to meet me in my room tonight?”

You pull back to meet his eyes, to make sure you understand his meaning. You see a slight nervousness there, tinged with longing, and just below that, a simmering heat that sparks an ember deep in your core.

The two of you had been, er… intimate before. Several times, actually (the fire escape outside his window that happened to also lead to your room in the apartment upstairs made for an excellent escape from both fires and nosy parents wondering what those noises were in the middle of the night), and each time had you seeing stars— sometimes literally if he felt like sneaking you up onto the roof with a blanket on one of the rare clear nights in New York— and longing for the next one. The letters you wrote alternated between sweet and rather scorching when you happened to be in a mood, each of you divulging your fantasies over the years you were apart, hoping to fulfill them when he came home in one piece.

“I’d say,” you murmur, “that I’d love to.”

That bright grin spreads across his face again, lighting him up from the inside out.

“Good,” he says softly, “because I wanna have a proper reunion with my girl.”

His hands slide down to rest low on your hips, pulling you that much closer as his lips seal over yours for a kiss that has butterflies swarming in your belly.

You lose yourself in the feeling of his hands on you, of his lips on yours, in the taste of him— even the utterly foreign (though not unpleasant) feeling of his mustache grazing against your skin has you wanting more, wanting to make up for the time you lost when he was an ocean away.

Something— maybe the crackle of the radio switching stations, maybe some small noise outside, maybe the remnants of the proper girl you should be— brings you back to reality all too soon, and suddenly you’re pulling away and looking up at him regretfully as you remind him:

“Your mother’s probably wondering what’s taking so long.”

He lets out a playful groan, barely heard over the radio as his head slumps onto your shoulder.

“You’re probably right,” he sighs, pressing a quick kiss to your temple as he begins fixing up his appearance; attempting to get his hair to lay flat from where your fingers had raked through it, wiping away your bright red lipstick smeared around his mouth, “Let’s go.”

Once you’ve reapplied your lipstick and made an attempt to fix your rumpled clothes and hair, he leads you back into the living room where his mother and sister are lounging in the armchairs next to the radio.

“Sorry, Ma,” he says, cheeky grin firmly back in place as the two of you settle on the loveseat nearby, “Had to squeeze in a dance with my girl.”

You bite back a squeak of surprise as his hand— out of sight of his mother and sister— drifts dangerously low on your hip to give you a playful squeeze, all while maintaining that trademark sparkling Rosenthal grin.

“You two are so sweet,” his mother coos, and you can’t help the shy smile creeping onto your face as you lean into Rosie.

Nor can you help the laugh you let out when you see Rosie sticking his tongue out at Jeanie, presumably in retaliation for the disgusted look on her face.

“Robert,” she scolds, “Be nice to your sister.”

“But Ma—”

“And Jeanette,” she turns to his sister with a rare use of her full name, “Your brother just came home, I won’t have you teasing him for wanting to spend time with Y/N.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but shuts it at her mother’s raised eyebrow.

“Sorry, Robert,” she grumbles stiltedly.

When his mother’s eyes flick to him, Rosie mumbles in the same stilted way.

“Sorry, Jeanie.”

“Thank you,” his mother says crisply, “Now— oh, honey, did I tell you…”

Mrs. Rosenthal somehow has even more neighborhood gossip to tell Rosie, and Jeanie has plenty of questions for her brother about life in England. He happily listens and regales them with stories, his animated way of speaking distracting his family from the way his hand rests on your thigh in plain sight. You should nudge him away, slip your hand into his, do something to make it look more innocent… but you don’t want him to stop tracing patterns onto your thigh over your dress, working his way up and down and back again in a way that makes it very difficult to focus on anything else.

He slips his hand away, a jolt of disappointment running through you at the lack of warmth, just in time for his mother to turn her attention to you.

“Y/N, sweetheart, I’m going to make some tea before we all head to bed, would you like some?”

You politely decline, as you have for the past nearly two years.

It was just you, your father, and your brother after your mother passed when you were four, and when they both enlisted after the Pearl Harbor attack, Mrs. Rosenthal was kind enough to let you, as her daughter's close friend and her son’s girlfriend, temporarily move into her guest room. They were currently somewhere on a boat in the Pacific, and though you were able to send letters back and forth, it was a sporadic way of communicating, and each day you prayed that they would come home safe like your Robbie had.

Jeanette busies herself with the book she had been reading, and Robbie takes the small moment you have for yourselves to pull you close and press a sweet kiss to your cheek, mindful of his sister in the room.

“What was that for?” You ask, grinning. It seems you haven’t stopped smiling since he walked in the door a few hours ago. 

“Just because,” he shrugs, a returning grin brightening his face, “I’m home, and I’m with my girl, and I can give her kisses anytime I want to.”

You don’t think it’s possible for your smile to grow any wider, but it does.

After pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, Rosie turns to his sister.

“Oh, Jeanie, I got you somethin’ while I was over there. Wanted to send it over, but I figured it’d be better if I gave it to you in person.”

He goes over to his pack and rummages around until he produces a small paperback.

“I found this in a bookshop when I was on one of my weekend passes, thought it seemed like something you’d like. Written by a woman, too, isn’t that something,” he says, handing her the copy of Green Dolphin Country, “Happy belated birthday, little sis. Hopefully this makes up a little for the ones I wasn’t here for.”

Oh goodness, your cheeks are starting to hurt, but you can’t stop smiling seeing Jeanie light up at the book. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Jeanie squeals, jumping up to squeeze her brother tight. He returns the hug fiercely, and your heart melts when you see him blinking back tears.

“I’m glad you like it,” he says, bright grin back in place as she pulls away to devour his gift, adding teasingly, “Y’know, I heard it ends with—”

“No spoilers!” Jeanie whines.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” Rosie holds his hands up in surrender, “Just tell me how it ends, promise?”

His little sister beams up at him, looking much younger than her actual age of 22.

“Promise.”

Mrs. Rosenthal returns with a tray bearing three mugs of tea, and night winds down with tea and books and soft chatter as one by one you all retire to your separate rooms.

Rosie shoots you a wink, hand drifting dangerously low on your back as he escorts you to your room before heading for his own just across the hall, leaving a lingering kiss on your lips that has you pleading for time to move faster, for his mother and Jeanie to fall asleep quickly so you can meet him without fear of waking them.

You slip into your favorite nightgown— a thin, filmy thing, one Rosie hasn’t seen before— and begin watching the clock as the wait for your agreed meeting time of 12:30 begins.

[crusty-chronicles]

is there any chance you could add killua for the airheaded but strong s/o headcanons? If not, then no worries, I just love how you write them!

Yeah, I don't mind but it's gonna be platonic because I'm a little iffy about writing for him romantically. He's just a boy 🥺🥺🥺 This is mostly a crack fic.

BONUS AIRHEADED S/O HEADCANNONS: Killua (HxH)

Honestly tried to kill you at one point

Oh you're strong huh?

Then proceeds to hit you with everything he's got, only to see that it hardly affected you. (Kinda like the way he first treated Zushi)

After that he's petty, but impressed.

Congratulations 🎉🎉🎉 You've earned his respect 🥳🥳🥳

You're basically Gon 2.0

And he hates it

Cannot take you two anywhere

"We should break the lock to get in." Gon suggested.

"Are you stupid?" You scoffed.

"What's the point of having a door if you're just gonna break it?"

And Killua is momentarily at peace that at least one of you has some sense. Until you open your mouth again.

"Obviously we should smash open a window."

And Gon is nodding along enthusiastically

"You're right! What would we do without you 🤩"

And Killua is just 😮‍💨.

He is the parent of the group and I will die on this hill

If Gon's the sun, you're a nuke

He's constantly dragging you away from Hisoka

Nope. Not today

Why do you insist on talking to strangers.

No scratch that.

Why do you insist on talking to creepy strangers????

It gives him a massive headache everytime you almost get abducted.

Honestly thought about putting a tracker on you to avoid this happening.

But then he remembers you're practically indestructible so he drops it.

Is afraid Illumi will come for you and hurt you.

He was never allowed to have friends, and after Illumi threatened you and Gon at the Hunter Exam, he's very protective.

But then he remembers something you said after Greed Island.

"The three of us are all gonna become the best of the best. We're gonna get all wrinkly and old together and still kick butt!!! We're gonna stick together no matter what!"

And it temporarily quells the fear of his brother.

It makes him look forward to that outcome and gives him something to fight a little harder for.

When it comes to fighting, he does get a little envious of how you and Gon just rush in without thinking.

And how you always manage to win despite the circumstance.

But he never feels left behind because of it.

Like with Gon, he won't baby you, just call you an idiot and move on.

You fell?

Get up loser.

You can't read?

Find somebody else to translate. Or he'll make you do it and be laughing nonstop while you struggle to pronounce the word "Apple"

"Gon what color's an orange?"

"An orange is the same color as it's name. Just like a lemon."

Please somebody take you two back to first grade.

Killua is begging.

Even though he won't baby you, he'll rush as fast as he can if you're in actual danger.

You got caught by the phantom troupe?

"Are you completely brain dead!?!!? Where are you!?!?"

Now he regrets not putting a tracker on you.

"This nice clown man gave me candy and told me to follow him." You tell him over CALL.

"HISOOKAAAAA!!!!"

He is screaming and panicking.

You trespassed into the mountains his family lives to see him.

"WHY???? DON'T YOU KNOW ABOUT MIKE!?!?"

And when he gets there he sees you rubbing the monstrous canine's tummy. Petting him and calling him a "Good Boy."

Names he has called you out of spite: Idiot, Moron, Dummy, Psycho, Airhead, Ditz, and probably Pea Brain

On the bright side, you are Alluka's favorite person.

"Give me your ribs."

"Oh, are you hungry? Let's see if we can't find you a smokehouse for those ribs."

And it baffles both souls so much that Nanika accepts that as fulfilling her command.

Plus you have endless amounts of energy that works to drain both girls out. Even when they've both already swapped twice.

Killua designates you her official babysitter when he's busy.

You are a complete lunatic and moron, but you're one of the people he trusts the most.

Even if he does complain about you a lot.

MASTERLIST

[hatsunemiku-official]

ABOUT ME-KU

(+ FAQ / VOCALOID-OFFICIAL MASTERPOST)

hi! im miku and welcome to Internet! you can do lots of fun things here. like look at my blog! ok im gonna hand the mic over to the omnipotent being that watches my every move

thanks miku. here are some things to remember before you send an ask:

- I am not associated with crypton, sega, or the official miku twitter! im just a guy making funny post

- miku lives in a computer. i probably won’t answer anything referring to her doing things in the real world, since saying “I am in a computer what are you talking about” is only funny the first five times

- I use my askbox as a jumping off point for jokes! if I don’t answer your ask it’s not because I didn’t like it, I just probably couldn’t think of anything funny to respond with

- I love receiving art!!!!!!! please send me your miku art!!!!!!! you can even send me a link to your art posted on your own blog and I’ll reblog it so you still get the notes!!!! I LOVE ART!!!!!! (also the ai training toggle has been turned off for this blog so. you’re safe here.)

- there are some things you should speak to a mental health professional about ( ie “i just can’t go on” “my life is terrible” ect) and you should not send these things to hatsune miku. i understand and empathize with you but I cannot help you and it’s very upsetting to receive things like this !

- anything written in parentheses for the most part is an ooc comment from the person running this blog (that’s me!). I don’t like doing this very often though, so if you have a question that can only really be answered ooc then please ask it off anon so I can respond privately!

- please remember I am just one person and sometimes I make mistakes! im a pretty busy person and also disabled so sometimes things slip through the cracks when im low energy. I do my best though so please let me know if you think i’ve made a mistake and i’ll do my best to fix it :]

- sometimes I like to reblog miku art from other people! please be respectful in these artists notes. I know this is a silly jokes blog but these people have not necessarily signed up to be goofed at on their posts. please be kind and keep the clowning to a minimum on posts that aren’t made by me!

- no TERFS allowed. hatsune miku loves trans women

FAQ

Q: can I make a vocaloid-official blog too???

A: yes!!!! anybody can!! please let me know if you do so I can add you to the masterpost and interact with you! I would check the masterpost first though to make sure there hasn’t already been a blog made for that character :]

Q: do you also run [insert other vocaloid-official blog]?

A: no! I can barely think of funny things to say here do you really think I could manage being funny on two blogs at once. I am friends with the people who run the teto, luka and una blogs so if our posts seem coordinated it’s because I asked them really nicely

Q: who runs this account?

A: secret

Q: miku what’s your opinion on [insert queer identity]

A: I don’t like answering these because I don’t want to open myself up to shitty comments and I can’t think of anything funny to say that wouldn’t just sound like “ally twitch streamer smiling at the camera and saying trans rights”. this blog is run by a queer person and miku is whatever you want her to be, if that helps.

Q: i made a vocaloid-official blog! how do I get added to the masterpost?

A: adding people to the masterpost has gotten really overwhelming for me so I won’t be doing it anymore. sorry! feel free to still make a vocaloid-official blog and interact with me if you want, I just won’t be updating the masterpost anymore. the current list will stay up as it is as sort of like. a memento or something.

Q: do you know anything about PJSK???

A: no <3

OFFICIAL VOCALOID-OFFICIAL MASTERPOST

these are my Official Friends! go say hi to them!!

🥖 @kasaneteto-official

🐟 @megurineluka-official

🐙 @otomachi-una-official

🍷 @hanakomeiko-official

💛 @neruakita-official

🍌 @kagaminelen-official

🍊 @kagaminerin-official

🍦@kaitoshinon-offical

🐢 @ryuto-official (RESURRECTED)

💜 @vflower-official

🥕 @gumi-official

🖤 @zatsunemiku-official

🍡 @tohokuzunko-official

🩹 @fukase-official

🔌 @utatanepiko-official

🐰 @yukari-official

🩵 @ringsuzune-official

⚓️ @oliverv3-official

🌷 @nekomurairoha-official

🥢 @vocaloidcul-official

☕️ @rukoyokune-official

🥂 @meiko-offical

👑 @galaco-official

🐱 @seeu-official

🌸 @meikahime-official

🪻 @meikamikoto-official

🍆 @gakupo-official

🎀 @utanekoe-official

🌹 @sakinemeiko-official

🔪 @mayuofficial

🛰️ @moonbase-alpha-tts-official

🍺 @yowane-haku-official

🪐 @ia-official

🎹 @namineritsu-official

☁️ @tone-rion-official

🎤 @maika-official

🌈 @kawaiine-official

🍏 @macnenana-official

🌻 @dex-official

💗 @garnetvocaloid-official

💿 @yohioloid-official

🌺 @zhizidongfang-official

🤍 @kokone-official

🐸 @vocaloidrana-official

🌟 @xingchen-official

🍎 @yuki-official

🌿 @fionetheutau-official

💫 @sfa2miki-official