#Tactile Impression

[drsilasaslan]

Weathered Metal Beauty This close-up captures a weathered metallic surface, showcasing a blend of faded blue and rust brown, telling a story of time and nature's effects. silasAslan.com

[conidiophore]

I didn't really expect to like bottom growth as much as I do. Almost a year on T (just a couple of weeks away) and I am pleasantly surprised by what I have going on. Jerking that thing with solemn appreciation and nodding wisely.

[ozzyfromthecafeteria]

just heard someone yell a loud reverberating FUCK and then a thud. lmao?? how did you fall over?

[jazzums]

harry introduces peter to dr. connors and pete’s like “we’ve actually met” but connors doesn’t recognize him bc he has a different face model

[sh4nksslvt]

CLINGY MUCH? | ONE SHOT

Shanks x GN!Reader

Zoro x GN!Reader

Mihawk x GN!Reader

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ff cringe and oc

tags: sfw, fluff, soft, ooc(?)

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

SHANKS

You were many things aboard the Red Force—calm, sharp-tongued, and painfully unbothered by Shanks’ endless antics.

You were also completely unaware of the fact that the most feared (and flirted-with) captain in the New World couldn’t seem to stop touching you.

Not in a creepy way. Not even in a romantic way… at least, not that you noticed.

He’d toss an arm around your shoulders like it was a habit. Rest his hand on your waist when laughing. Tug you into his side when something “dangerous” happened, like a slightly aggressive breeze or a seagull flying too low.

You just chalked it up to him being Shanks.

Until, one bright morning, the crew decided enough was enough.

It started with Benn Beckman sighing dramatically as he walked onto the deck.

“Do you two need a room or something?”

You blinked from where you stood, arms crossed. “We’re not even doing anything.”

Benn pointed. “His hand has been on your lower back for ten minutes.”

Shanks blinked down at his own hand like it betrayed him. “Huh. Didn’t even notice.”

You raised a brow. “Are you okay? Do you have tactile issues?”

Lucky Roux snorted as he passed by with a turkey leg. “Yeah, it’s called ‘falling for someone and not knowing what to do with your hands.’”

Shanks turned red. You remained… utterly unaffected.

“Touch-starved pirate disease,” Lime Juice muttered, jotting fake notes like a doctor. “Tragic. Symptoms include: prolonged physical contact, excessive grinning, and spontaneous cuddling in public.”

Hongo popped his head out of the crow’s nest. “I saw him brush your hair behind your ear during the storm last week.”

“That was because it got in their face,” Shanks defended.

You nodded. “He didn’t want me to get stabbed by my own bangs. Very heroic.”

“You’re wearing a braid,” Yasopp called from the helm.

A long pause.

“…Okay, I’m not good with excuses,” Shanks muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. His hand bumped yours in the process.

You tilted your head, eyes narrowing. “Captain.”

“Yes?”

“You’re touching me again.”

“...I genuinely didn’t notice DAHAHAHA.”

The crew erupted into laughter.

You blinked slowly and glanced down at your joined hands, then back up at him. “You’ve been holding my hand for a minute now. You good?”

“Maybe.”

You stared.

He stared.

“…You’re kinda warm,” he added, grinning.

“I’m wearing gloves.”

“Exactly. Impressive.”

You didn’t smile, but your voice was flat with dry humor. “You wanna marry me, too? Get it over with?”

Shanks choked. “Whoa—what?”

“You’re already touching me like I’m your lover. Might as well commit.”

The crew howled.

“I’m starting to like them more than you, Cap,” Benn said, lighting a cigar.

“They’ve got more bite,” Lime Juice grinned.

Lucky Roux offered you a celebratory turkey leg like a sword. “You just proposed better than he ever could.”

You calmly took it, giving a single nod. “Thanks. I accept my own proposal.”

Shanks was still frozen. “Wait, are we actually engaged now?”

You took a slow bite of the turkey leg, deadpan. “Keep touching me like that, and you’ll owe me alimony.”

ZORO

You were minding your own business—arms crossed, eyes half-lidded, back leaned slightly against the Sunny’s railing—when a familiar weight thunked into your side.

Again.

You didn’t flinch, didn’t glance, didn’t even blink. Just spoke.

“Zoro.”

“What.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what.”

“Treating me like a living chair.”

He grunted. “You’re stable. And not annoying.”

“That’s a compliment?” you asked, still deadpan.

“Take it or leave it.”

The crew had noticed. Of course they had. This was the sixth day in a row Zoro had casually latched onto you like a sleepy barnacle.

“Oi, mosshead!” Sanji snapped, appearing from the galley with smoke swirling and a righteous fury in his eyes. “Get off them, you clingy cucumber!”

Zoro cracked open an eye. “Make me.”

“Oh, I will!” Sanji stomped over dramatically. “Y/N-chwaann shouldn’t have to carry your freeloading swordsman body weight! If anyone deserves to be close to them, it’s me!”

You raised an eyebrow. “You literally tripped into my lap yesterday trying to ‘tie your shoe.’ You were barefoot.”

“It was a metaphor!” Sanji cried. “For falling head over heels!”

Zoro scoffed. “That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Says the mossy limpet glued to their side like a touchy fungus!”

Zoro didn’t move. “Jealousy’s not a good look, curly.”

“You—!!”

“Guys,” Nami sighed, “can’t we go one day without turning affection into a shouting match?”

Brook leaned on his cane, chuckling. “Yohohoho! Young love… or something!”

Usopp squinted. “Wait. Has Zoro always been this clingy with Y/N?”

Robin smiled mysteriously. “Since thriller bark, at least.”

Franky nodded solemnly. “Saw him fall asleep on their shoulder mid-battle once. SUPER unconscious.”

“I thought he was dead,” Chopper added, horrified. “Turns out he was just really comfy.”

Zoro’s grip on your shoulder tightened very slightly, and you finally glanced sideways at him.

“Do you know you’re this touchy?” you asked.

He looked like he wanted to evaporate into the deck. “I… just don’t mind you being close.”

You blinked slowly. “Is that samurai code for ‘I like you’?”

Sanji audibly gagged. “Oi! Don’t flirt in front of me!”

“We’re not flirting,” you said.

Zoro mumbled, “Might be.”

Sanji died inside.

“Y/N-chwann” he said gravely, dropping to one knee. “I beg of you—pick me instead! I would never lean on you like a sweaty tree log!”

Zoro growled. “Because you’d faint from being close.”

“AT LEAST I’D DIE HANDSOME!”

You looked between the two of them and sighed.

“I just want to drink my tea without being fought over,” you muttered, walking off—Zoro immediately following, like a shadow with swords.

“You’re still touching me,” you noted.

“Didn’t say I’d stop,” he replied casually.

You stopped walking, turned, and looked him square in the eye.

“You’re aware this is very couple-coded, right?”

He blinked, then grunted. “Guess we should make it official then.”

You blinked right back. “That was fast.”

“Why waste time.”

You smirked just a little. “Romantic.”

He shrugged. “You’re warm. And you don’t talk too much.”

“That’s your idea of a proposal?”

“Worked, didn’t it?”

From behind you, Sanji dramatically screamed into the ocean.

MIHAWK

Kuraigana Island was a wasteland of stone, wind, and uncomfortable silences. You didn’t mind. You were the type to thrive in eerie places — quiet, observant, and allergic to nonsense.

Which is probably why Mihawk didn’t bother with small talk.

Or... so you thought.

Lately, the world’s greatest swordsman had developed a habit of materializing wherever you were. You’d be cleaning a blade — and there he was, pouring tea. You’d sit on the crumbling stone wall for some air — and there he’d be, suddenly trimming the overgrown vines right next to you.

At first, you thought it was coincidence.

Until today.

“...You know you don’t have to sharpen every one of my knives,” you said flatly, watching him work silently at the bench beside you.

“I didn’t,” Mihawk replied, still honing the blade. “Only the dull ones.”

You blinked. “That was my butter knife.”

“Then it was very dull.”

From the far side of the ruins, Zoro grunted as he finished a set of squats. “He refilled their canteen twice this morning.”

“Once,” Mihawk corrected, still not looking up.

“Twice,” Zoro insisted. “Once after breakfast. Then again after they just looked at the sink.”

Perona floated down with a snort. “He also folded their coat. While they were still wearing it.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Wait. Is that why my sleeves were shorter for a second?”

“You had a wrinkle.”

“I always have a wrinkle.”

Mihawk looked up with that unreadable expression. “And now you don’t.”

Zoro huffed. “What even is this? He acts like a butler. But like, a scary one.”

Mihawk narrowed his eyes at him. “I’m not a butler.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Perona muttered, arms crossed. “You fixed the strap on their satchel too.”

Mihawk didn’t respond to that.

Perona raised a brow. “You gonna deny it?”

“No,” Mihawk said coolly, “because it was crooked.”

Zoro leaned against a stone pillar, towel around his neck. “He also moved your seat at the dining table.”

“That was my seat,” you said.

Mihawk finally gave you a long, side glance. “You’ve sat on the left for the past four mornings. I simply ensured it remained consistent.”

You deadpanned. “You rearranged the furniture.”

“Briefly.”

Zoro stared. “And when they tripped over that vine—”

“I cut the vine before they fell,” Mihawk snapped with a tone just shy of defensive.

“Bro. You lunged across the courtyard.”

Mihawk sipped his wine calmly. “It was in the way.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And when you pulled me by the hood into the shade the other day?”

“You were overheating.”

“I wasn’t sweating.”

“You were blinking slowly.”

You stared. “That’s just how I blink.”

There was a long pause.

Then Perona gasped. “Wait, wait — you also fixed the strap on their scabbard!”

“I adjusted it. The weight distribution was uneven.”

Zoro clapped once, grinning. “So you are clingy.”

Mihawk’s eyes narrowed, the glint in them sharp and dangerous. “I am not.”

You leaned your chin on your hand, amused. “Then what would you call this?”

He paused. “Awareness.”

Perona lost it. “You mean hyper-awareness. Of one (1) person.”

Mihawk ignored her. “It’s strategic. I simply ensure you're at your most efficient.”

“That’s not efficiency,” Zoro said, wiping his forehead. “That’s doting.”

Mihawk arched a brow. “You think a swordsman cannot be observant?”

“You folded their laundry in order of fabric weight.”

“They prefer it that way.”

You blinked. “I never said that.”

He side-eyed you, expression cool. “You didn’t need to.”

You blinked again.

Zoro grunted. “You see? He’s acting like we’re all weird for noticing.”

Perona jabbed a finger toward him. “He's totally doing the ‘if I act calm, no one will notice I'm obsessed’ thing.”

Mihawk finally gave a soft, tired sigh — the kind that said you people are exhausting.

Then, turning to you, he asked, “Would you like tea?”

“I haven’t said I was thirsty.”

He didn’t blink. “You will be.”

You stared. “Are you psychic?”

“No,” he said simply. “You’re predictable.”

You squinted. “...That sounds like flirting.”

Mihawk blinked slowly. “I don’t flirt.”

Perona groaned. “OH MY GOD—”

Mihawk stood up, cloak sweeping behind him, expression unreadable as always. He held out the canteen like he’d already won this conversation.

You took it with narrowed eyes, muttering, “Thanks... I guess.”

He nodded, calm as ever. “You’re welcome.”

Zoro crossed his arms. “Still denying it?”

Mihawk looked at all of them — then at you — and with perfect poise said,

“I’m just efficient.”

And with that, he turned and walked away.

You stared after him, took a sip from the canteen, and sighed.

“…Efficiently annoying.”

[hyenasaa]

Jjk headcanons with - short!fem reader ──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

In which i present you headcanons of how some of the jjk men would react to a partner that is shorter than them!! There is a little bit of spice in those so MINORS DNI!! Also maybe i will do a male reader headcanons soon, for now enjoyyy!!

Nanami Kento :

Nanami loves how you tuck perfectly under his chin. He rests his head on yours like it’s his favorite place in the world.

When you struggle to reach something? He’s there instantly — no teasing, no commentary, just helping with quiet affection.

“Tell me next time. I don’t want you climbing chairs in socks.”

He adjusts his stride to match yours on walks, and instinctively puts his hand on the small of your back to guide you through crowds.

If anyone makes a joke about your height, his expression tightens just slightly — and that person doesn't make another comment.

Secretly thinks you're absolutely adorable. Outwardly? Polite respect and subtle doting.

Gojo Satoru :

Gojo lives to tease you about your height. He will absolutely crouch slightly when talking to you, just to be dramatic.

“Aww, should I get you a step stool for this conversation?”

But the moment someone else mocks your height? Instant death glare.

“Only I get to call her small. And even then — with love, obviously.”

He loves picking you up randomly — over his shoulder, bridal style, cradled like a baby — all with zero warning.

Kisses your forehead constantly. Or the top of your head. Or pats your head and goes “boop.”

Your shortness makes him feral in bed — he loves the contrast, loves how you fit under him, how easily he can manhandle you. He’ll whisper things like:

“So small… and still you take all of me, huh? Impressive.”

Higuruma Hiromi :

He doesn’t comment much on your height — but he’s hyper-aware of it in subtle, caring ways.

Holds your hand while walking down stairs. Walks on the traffic side of the sidewalk. Always watches for obstacles you might not see.

If you’re having a hard time reaching something and don’t ask for help, he just calmly walks up and retrieves it for you, like it’s second nature.

Finds your height incredibly endearing — especially when you get a little snappy or try to act tough.

“You’re small, not weak. I know the difference.”

Absolutely loves resting his hand on your waist or low back — he’s tactile in quiet, comforting ways.

Geto Suguru :

Geto is obsessed with how much smaller you are. He thrives on it. He calls you “little one”, “petal”, or “my tiny queen.”

He’ll tower over you on purpose, tilt your chin up with a knuckle, and grin when you huff.

“You fit so perfectly in my arms. Like you were carved for me.”

He loves when you sit on his lap during serious meetings or when he’s reading. You trying to be assertive from that spot? He eats it up.

In private, the size difference makes him downright sinful. He’ll press you to the wall and whisper:

“So small… but you take everything I give you, don’t you?”

He spoils you absolutely rotten — he picks you up to kiss you, sets you on counters, lets you straddle his thighs and take control if you want it.

Ryomen Sukuna :

Sukuna is obsessed with your size. Your tiny frame feeds something primal and possessive in him.

He’ll grab you and pull you into his lap with a growl, murmuring about how easy you are to control — not to belittle, but because he craves the contrast.

“So delicate. Like a toy I never plan to share.”

You trying to challenge him when you're half his size? Instant turn-on.

He’ll lift you like you weigh nothing, pin your wrists above your head with one hand, and lean down to whisper:

“So little… and yet, look at you. Taking everything like you were made for me.”

But oddly, he’s protective as hell. If anyone so much as looks at you wrong, it’s over. You're his, and that includes defending your honor with fire and blood.

Okkotsu Yuta :

Yuta is the softest boyfriend ever. He doesn’t just notice your height — he adores it.

Loves when you tug at his sleeve to get his attention, or stand on tiptoe for a kiss.

Will literally bend down without being asked, and give you the warmest, most reassuring smile as you reach up.

“I really like how small you are. I don’t know… I just want to hold you all the time.”

He lifts you up to sit on counters when cooking together. Loves when you wrap your legs around his waist to make up the difference.

Blushes like crazy if you ever wear something that shows a lot of leg — “Why does small make you this powerful??”

Itadori Yuji :

Yuji thinks you're the cutest thing on earth.

He constantly picks you up and spins you around. Like a puppy with a favorite toy.

“You're the perfect hugging size! I win!”

Will drop to his knees dramatically when you ask for a kiss just to be funny — or lift you up way too enthusiastically.

Loves spooning you from behind. The way you fit into him makes him feel so full of love he could explode.

If you’re insecure about your height, he just looks at you like:

“But you’re perfect like this. Why would I want anyone taller when I’ve got all of you right here?”

Fushiguro Megumi :

Megumi won’t say much at first — but you catch him doing things: like adjusting his steps, placing his hand on your lower back to guide you, shielding you in crowds.

He actually gets a bit flustered when you look up at him with big eyes. It short-circuits his brain.

If you ever wear oversized clothes? He dies. Just melts on the spot.

He’ll quietly bend down when you go in for a kiss, not making a show of it, but always meeting you halfway.

During intimate moments, the size difference makes him go a little crazy — he holds you close like you might break, but there's a heat in his eyes that says he likes the way you cling to him.

“I love holding you. Don’t let go.”

[bunny-jpeg]

sinful sentences (fourteen)

lewis hamilton - "yes, please keep doing that."

tags: smut/pwp, ferrari driver!reader, rivals/teammates/lovers, oral sex & fingering (reader receives)

sinful sentences catalogue

you didn't have a kink, you thought the idea of a hand kink was stupid. you didn't look at hands on the internet, you didn't get wet to the sight of them in public. it wasn't a kink.

but you had a thing for your teammate's hands. formula one driver's hand pretty big hands, but it wasn't just that fact that made lewis hands arousing. it was how tactile he could be with them, how he wore his rings.

when you jokingly said let's compare hand sizes in an attempt to brush off the rough weekend together. he complied and you felt something stir in your core.

"look at that." lewis said, his dark eyes looked away from your hands and towards your heated face, "quite the difference." but all your could hear was the thumping of blood in your ears.

you linked your fingers with his and leaned towards him, he laid back on the bed with you on top of him. you held hands while you went in to kiss him deeply on the lips.

you and lewis had been dancing around this since you both joine ferrari. when carlos and charles got the boot (sorry!), two legacy drivers were snatched up from their teams and dumped into the red seats. lewis had seven world champions and you had a much less impressive three. you had been in each other's space for a long period of time and being on the same team meant a forced proximity that only made everything boil over.

sometimes you wanted to kill each other and other things you wanted to fuck like rabbits in the garage. as was the nature of teammates.

you looked at one another, you on top of him. his other hand was at your waist. you realized how lovely his eyes were and it made something shudder through you. before you could say a word, he leaned in to kiss you square on the mouth once more.

with a little help from you, he got you onto your back. he let go of your hand and reached for your jaw. he looked into your eyes once more. the gaze between you two was heated.

you swallowed and he smiled. it was like the spell between you two was broken. the dance was over and there was finally a conclusion between you two.

he asked, "do you want this?"

you nodded, "i..i do." and without thinking grazed your tongue across the top front of your teeth. you unbuttoned your jeans, you kicked them off your legs and to the bottom of the bed to be found in the morning.

his larger hands were on your breasts where he palmed them with a little force. he was testing out what made you squirm, he knew that you went hot when his words were cunning on the track. but he wanted to put his talented fingers to use to make you moan.

"look at you." he said softly, "i wish we had done this years ago. all that time of you and i pushing each other on the track." he chuckled fondly at the memories, "how the press pitted us together. my greatest rival." affection on the tip of his tongue before he took the bottom of your t-shirt and pulled it up over your head.

clothes were shed and before you got straddled his waist to get the show on the road, but he kept you pinned down to the bed. you gave him a quizzical look and he winked at you before he kissed at your hip. he gazed up at you and said, "you like my hands, let me use them. and my tongue too." then licked his top lip for extra effect. it made your cunt clench.

you knew after this, you two would still be teasing one another. you would still be intertwined, but now was lovers too. he dipped his head down and kissed your inner thigh.

"fuck."

lewis chuckled as he kissed your slick pussy, he dragged his tongue across your folds for a moment, but kept one hand on your thigh to keep you down. he wasn't having his teammate make a quick escape. not when he wanted to gorge himself on your beautiful cunt.

"how's that?" he asked.

"yes, please keep doing that."

lewis smiled against you and hoisted your hips up a little to get better access to you. years and years of rivalry. it wasn't super serious, it was more friendly in competition. see who could come out on top and a few times you've surprised him. he liked that you were on a different level than most of the drivers who had come in, you made a name for yourself in the world of racing.

when he first started his career, he thought you two would make quite the power couple. but your paths never crossed in that way. you both dated other people, but always remained in each other's orbit. maybe it was time to change that your careers were nearing its twilight and now on the same team, maybe it was time to give the two of you a chance.

one up the bond that charles and carlos had on the team and actually go all the way with a relationship. as lewis started to finger you, he knew that you wouldn't go easy on him on the track. not that he'd want that, any victory against you would be earned. he heard your sweet moans and continued to finger you as he worked his tongue against your clit.

it felt right. he took his time with you, he wanted to pleasure you. maybe a small part of him wanted to outdo any other guy you had ever been with. that popstar from england or the engineer from germany. the hockey player and the businessman from the united states. quite a colourful cast of men you had been with, but lewis wanted to outdo them. make the years of dancing around each other worth it.

and with the sounds you were making, he was achieving his goal. he kissed your clit before he pulled slightly pulled away his head to look up at you. he wanted to admire you as he pleasured you. his lips shiny with your wetness that went down to his chin. he said softly, "look at you. a world champion taken apart by my fingers. i can see why you like them so much." he slowly licked his lips.

when you tried to hide your face from the rush of heat in your cheeks he laughed. you were normally so stoic on the track, but there you were under him completely coming apart. "i bet you thought about me. in hotel rooms across the globe, wondered what i was up. some nights i bet it took all your power now to come to my hotel room. but don't worry." he kissed your slit once more, "i spent many, many nights thinking about you. when you won your first championship, i wanted to shower you in champagne and then kiss you."

his words were sultry and it made your stomach leap. the tension could've been solved years ago. the realization made you drop your head into the pillows and your hand found the back of his head. he went back down on you, he worked his magic and you felt the heat in your core.

you moaned and a string of curses left your lips. you let him touch you, feel you. you realized that you liked his fingers a lot more than you initially thought. you shakily exhaled as the pleasure accumulated in your core. there was something deeply erotic about him. about this entire thing.

to be so close to him. you held onto him tightly and pressed his face further against your needy cunt. he quickened his movements between your legs and you tensed up. your voice got a bit higher and the lust burned your blood as you moved your hips a little as you climaxed on his tongue.

the continued to pleasure you through your orgasm. he only stopped when your hips touched the bed once more. laid out in a panting mess as you felt the aftershocks of pleasure.

lewis moved up to face you, he rubbed your cheek with his thumb and you melted into his touch a little while you panted heavily. you eased into one another as lewis wiped his mouth clean of your wetness with the back of his hand. both in bed naked together, his cock prodded against your stomach.

you noticed the feeling and opened your eyes to look at him. you smiled lazily, still blissed out before you took him by the shoulders and pinned him to the bed. his dark eyes grew wide and then chuckled as you straddled his waist.

your hand spread across his strong, tattooed chest as you said, "think we're dont, hamilton?" you winked at him, "think of this as endurance training. you'll need everything you can get, because i'm not going easy on your next weekend."

lewis took the challenge and gripped onto your hips. there was a twinkle in his eye as he said, "of course, but after this i'm giving you a little training of my own." <3

[rimatsu]

after the appropriate grieving period, they should bring back the silly romcom elements for bucktommy in s9. next season's flavor of miscommunication should be buck being under the impression that they're slowly but surely working towards getting back together (tacit agreement after multiple romantically and sexually-charged hangouts) meanwhile tommy is fighting for his life trying to move on so he can be the "friend" buck needs during these trying times. sure, lines are objectively blurry but that's to be expected: they have history and buck is a playful, tactile guy — of course he sits close and teases and flirts. it all comes to a head when buck publicly accuses tommy of cheating bc ravi (always at the scene of the crime) sends him a picture of tommy in flagrante delicto (on a lackluster date with some guy)

[aeth-eris]

★  hypothetical  death  |  8th  house  ★ 

★  book  a  reading  ★  ★  masterlist  1  ★  ★  masterlist  2  ★

 ★  aries  in  the  8th  house  ★ 

a  fiery  and  sudden  death—aries  energy  ensures  the  circumstances  are  quick,  intense,  and  dramatic.  scenarios  might  include  head  trauma  from  an  accident  during  high-adrenaline  activities  like  racing,  extreme  sports,  or  even  combat.  mars,  as  aries'  ruler,  adds  themes  of  violence,  heat,  or  machinery,  suggesting  deaths  involving  fire,  burns,  or  weapon-related  incidents.  strokes  or  aneurysms  due  to  elevated  stress  or  blood  pressure  might  also  play  a  role.  the  impulsiveness  of  aries  could  contribute  to  risky  behavior  leading  to  fatal  consequences,  like  a  dare  gone  wrong  or  reacting  without  thinking  in  a  dangerous  situation.  workplace  accidents  involving  machinery  or  tools  might  also  be  significant.  death  could  occur  in  a  high-energy  environment,  like  a  gym,  construction  site,  or  battlefield.  if  mars  is  poorly  aspected,  anger  or  conflicts  might  escalate  into  physical  violence,  adding  a  combative  edge  to  their  passing.  aries  in  the  8th  suggests  a  death  that  is  fast,  passionate,  and  leaves  an  unmistakable  impression,  often  tied  to  their  drive  for  action  and  independence.  their  end  might  reflect  a  moment  of  courage,  boldness,  or  impulsivity—whether  in  a  fight,  an  accident,  or  a  heroic  act.

 ★  taurus  in  the  8th  house  ★ 

a  slow,  grounded  death  tied  to  the  physical  body  or  material  comforts.  taurus  rules  the  throat  and  neck,  so  choking,  strangulation,  or  complications  with  the  thyroid  could  be  relevant.  overindulgence  in  food,  drink,  or  a  luxurious  lifestyle  might  lead  to  long-term  health  issues,  such  as  heart  disease  or  diabetes.  accidents  involving  possessions,  like  heavy  objects  falling,  might  also  feature.  venus,  as  taurus’  ruler,  introduces  themes  of  beauty  and  sensuality—perhaps  death  occurs  in  a  peaceful  or  aesthetic  setting,  like  a  serene  garden  or  during  a  relaxing  spa  treatment.  there  could  also  be  a  financial  or  material  aspect  tied  to  their  passing,  such  as  disputes  over  inheritance  or  wealth.  deaths  involving  the  earth  or  natural  settings  are  possible—think  landslides,  farming  accidents,  or  being  buried  under  physical  weight.  if  venus  is  poorly  aspected,  overindulgence  or  attachment  to  material  comforts  could  play  a  detrimental  role.  taurus  in  the  8th  suggests  a  passing  that  is  steady,  tactile,  and  tied  to  the  physical  world,  reflecting  themes  of  security,  comfort,  or  even  stubbornness  in  their  final  moments.

 ★  gemini  in  the  8th  house  ★ 

a  curious  and  chaotic  death  tied  to  communication,  movement,  or  duality.  gemini’s  connection  to  the  lungs  and  nervous  system  suggests  respiratory  failure,  accidents  during  travel  (cars,  planes,  bikes),  or  even  stress-induced  neurological  breakdowns.  multitasking  or  miscommunication  could  play  a  significant  role—imagine  texting  while  driving  or  rushing  to  meet  a  deadline.  gemini’s  dual  nature  might  manifest  as  two  contrasting  causes  or  settings  tied  to  their  death,  like  being  in  two  places  at  once  or  dealing  with  conflicting  scenarios.  mercury,  gemini’s  ruler,  adds  themes  of  learning  and  intellect,  so  their  passing  might  involve  books,  technology,  or  public  speaking—perhaps  a  fatal  incident  during  a  lecture  or  broadcast.  mental  overstimulation,  like  overworking  the  brain  or  juggling  too  many  responsibilities,  could  lead  to  burnout  or  exhaustion.  gemini  in  the  8th  often  reflects  a  death  tied  to  curiosity,  adaptability,  or  rapid  movement,  with  circumstances  that  are  unpredictable  or  fast-paced.  the  end  might  occur  while  chasing  knowledge,  engaging  in  lively  conversation,  or  simply  moving  too  quickly  in  life.

 ★  cancer  in  the  8th  house  ★ 

an  emotionally  charged  death  tied  to  family,  water,  or  the  home.  cancer’s  rulership  of  the  chest  and  stomach  suggests  causes  like  breast  cancer,  ulcers,  or  drowning.  food  poisoning  or  allergies  from  nurturing  environments,  like  family  meals,  might  also  be  involved.  the  moon’s  influence  brings  cycles  and  tides  into  the  equation,  so  lunar  phases  or  emotional  states  might  align  with  their  passing.  accidents  in  domestic  spaces—like  a  fall  in  the  bathtub,  a  kitchen  mishap,  or  a  structural  collapse  in  their  home—are  possible.  cancer  in  the  8th  also  suggests  emotional  wounding  or  heartbreak  could  contribute  to  their  death,  especially  if  family  dynamics  are  strained.  the  circumstances  might  involve  themes  of  care  and  protection,  like  passing  while  tending  to  loved  ones  or  during  a  significant  life  transition,  such  as  childbirth  or  becoming  a  parent.  water-related  scenarios  are  significant—drowning  in  a  lake,  slipping  into  a  pool,  or  even  being  caught  in  a  storm  at  sea.  cancer  in  the  8th  suggests  a  deeply  personal,  intuitive,  and  emotionally  resonant  passing,  one  tied  to  their  roots,  family,  or  internal  world.

 ★  leo  in  the  8th  house  ★ 

a  dramatic  and  highly  visible  death  tied  to  their  individuality  or  public  presence.  leo  rules  the  heart,  so  heart  attacks,  cardiac  arrest,  or  stress-related  heart  issues  are  common.  their  passing  might  occur  during  a  moment  of  grandeur—perhaps  on  stage,  at  a  public  event,  or  while  performing  a  leadership  role.  accidents  involving  fire,  extreme  heat,  or  light  are  also  possible,  such  as  dying  in  a  blaze  or  due  to  sunstroke.  leo’s  need  for  recognition  suggests  their  death  might  leave  a  lasting  impression,  either  as  a  cautionary  tale  or  a  heroic  act.  venusian  influences  might  add  artistic  or  aesthetic  themes,  like  passing  away  while  creating  something  beautiful  or  during  an  extravagant  celebration.  if  poorly  aspected,  pride  or  stubbornness  could  lead  to  risky  behavior,  like  refusing  medical  advice  or  engaging  in  dangerous  stunts.  leo  in  the  8th  house  often  reflects  a  passing  that  mirrors  their  vibrant  life—bold,  memorable,  and  tied  to  their  creative  or  leadership  pursuits.  their  death  may  carry  a  symbolic  weight,  marking  the  end  of  an  era  or  leaving  a  dramatic  legacy.

 ★  virgo  in  the  8th  house  ★ 

a  precise  and  health-focused  death  tied  to  routine,  work,  or  the  body.  virgo  rules  the  digestive  system,  so  deaths  from  intestinal  issues,  food  poisoning,  or  chronic  illnesses  like  stomach  cancer  might  occur.  virgo’s  perfectionism  suggests  that  their  passing  could  involve  medical  errors  or  complications  during  surgery—perhaps  due  to  misdiagnosis  or  overly  meticulous  procedures.  stress  from  overwork  or  obsession  with  health  could  lead  to  burnout,  strokes,  or  heart-related  issues.  their  death  might  occur  in  a  clinical  or  work  environment,  such  as  a  hospital,  lab,  or  office,  especially  if  service  to  others  was  a  big  part  of  their  life.  virgo’s  connection  to  habits  may  mean  that  small,  unnoticed  health  problems  build  up  over  time,  eventually  leading  to  something  fatal.  mental  health  could  also  play  a  role,  with  overthinking  or  anxiety  exacerbating  physical  conditions.  if  mercury,  virgo’s  ruler,  is  poorly  aspected,  miscommunication  or  lack  of  clarity  might  surround  their  death.  virgo  in  the  8th  suggests  a  passing  that  is  methodical,  reflective  of  their  need  for  control  and  structure,  and  potentially  tied  to  their  dedication  to  service,  health,  or  routines.

 ★  libra  in  the  8th  house  ★ 

a  graceful,  relational  death  tied  to  beauty,  partnerships,  or  harmony.  libra’s  rulership  by  venus  highlights  love  and  aesthetics,  so  their  death  might  involve  themes  of  romance  or  occur  in  beautiful,  peaceful  settings.  it’s  possible  they  die  alongside  a  partner  or  as  a  result  of  heartbreak,  betrayal,  or  marital  stress.  accidents  during  social  gatherings  or  public  events,  especially  those  focused  on  art  or  fashion,  could  also  play  a  role.  cosmetic  surgeries  gone  wrong  or  beauty-related  mishaps  might  feature  as  well.  libra’s  focus  on  fairness  and  balance  might  bring  legal  or  contractual  matters  into  their  death,  such  as  disputes  over  inheritance  or  assets.  falls  or  accidents  due  to  losing  physical  balance  are  also  possibilities.  if  venus  is  poorly  aspected,  indulgence  in  luxury  or  unhealthy  relationships  might  contribute  to  their  death.  libra  in  the  8th  suggests  a  poetic,  symbolic  passing  that  reflects  their  desire  for  beauty,  love,  and  peace,  even  if  the  circumstances  are  less  than  ideal.  it  carries  relational  and  aesthetic  significance,  leaving  a  mark  on  those  they  leave  behind.

 ★  scorpio  in  the  8th  house  ★ 

a  deep,  transformative  death  tied  to  mystery,  power,  or  intensity.  scorpio  in  the  8th  house  points  to  dramatic  or  taboo  themes,  such  as  deaths  involving  betrayal,  violence,  or  even  murder.  illnesses  tied  to  reproductive  or  elimination  systems—like  cancer  or  sexually  transmitted  diseases—are  possible.  scorpio’s  association  with  secrecy  suggests  a  death  that  could  remain  unsolved  or  involve  hidden  circumstances,  like  poisoning  or  mysterious  disappearances.  water-related  deaths,  such  as  drowning  in  dark  or  concealed  places,  are  also  possible.  if  pluto,  scorpio’s  ruler,  is  prominent,  there  may  be  power  struggles,  dangerous  obsessions,  or  karmic  ties  involved.  this  placement  also  carries  a  potential  for  self-destructive  tendencies  or  involvement  in  intense  situations,  like  covert  operations  or  high-stakes  activities.  scorpio  in  the  8th  suggests  a  passing  that  is  transformative,  haunting,  and  impactful,  often  tied  to  cycles  of  life  and  death.  it’s  a  symbolic  end  that  might  feel  like  the  closing  of  a  profound  chapter,  affecting  not  only  the  individual  but  those  left  behind.

 ★  sagittarius  in  the  8th  house  ★ 

a  bold,  adventurous  death  tied  to  travel,  freedom,  or  philosophy.  sagittarius’  love  for  exploration  could  lead  to  accidents  during  long  journeys,  such  as  plane  crashes,  hiking  falls,  or  incidents  in  remote  areas.  their  passing  might  occur  abroad  or  while  engaging  in  a  daring  adventure,  like  climbing  a  mountain  or  embarking  on  a  spiritual  pilgrimage.  sagittarius’  connection  to  expansion  suggests  overindulgence  in  food,  drink,  or  risky  behavior,  which  could  lead  to  health  complications  like  liver  disease  or  heart  failure.  their  death  might  also  carry  a  philosophical  or  spiritual  undertone,  such  as  passing  away  in  pursuit  of  knowledge  or  while  defending  a  cause  they  believe  in.  accidents  during  academic  or  educational  pursuits,  like  during  a  lecture  or  research  expedition,  are  possible.  if  jupiter,  sagittarius’  ruler,  is  poorly  aspected,  reckless  behavior  or  overconfidence  might  contribute  to  their  death.  sagittarius  in  the  8th  suggests  a  passing  that  feels  larger  than  life—adventurous,  meaningful,  and  deeply  tied  to  their  pursuit  of  freedom  and  purpose.

 ★  capricorn  in  the  8th  house  ★ 

a  structured  and  karmic  death  tied  to  responsibility,  work,  or  aging.  capricorn’s  connection  to  discipline  and  time  suggests  a  slow,  steady  decline,  such  as  passing  from  old  age,  chronic  illness,  or  the  cumulative  effects  of  stress.  falls  from  heights,  accidents  involving  structures  (e.g.,  building  collapses),  or  work-related  mishaps  might  also  play  a  role.  capricorn’s  association  with  authority  and  legacy  suggests  their  death  could  involve  their  professional  life  or  public  image,  such  as  dying  during  a  high-profile  negotiation  or  business  endeavor.  saturn’s  influence  introduces  karmic  themes,  implying  their  passing  might  feel  like  a  culmination  of  life’s  lessons,  responsibilities,  or  burdens.  deaths  tied  to  cold  environments,  such  as  mountains  or  icy  conditions,  are  also  possible.  if  saturn  is  poorly  aspected,  restrictive  or  oppressive  circumstances  might  intensify,  leading  to  feelings  of  exhaustion  or  burnout.  capricorn  in  the  8th  suggests  a  death  that  is  practical,  significant,  and  reflective  of  their  long-term  dedication  to  goals,  responsibilities,  and  the  structures  they  built  in  life.

 ★  aquarius  in  the  8th  house  ★ 

a  sudden,  unconventional  death  tied  to  technology,  innovation,  or  groups.  aquarius’  connection  to  electricity  and  progress  suggests  deaths  involving  electrical  shocks,  airplane  crashes,  or  futuristic  technology.  their  passing  might  occur  during  group  activities  or  social  causes,  such  as  protests,  conventions,  or  experimental  events.  aquarius  rules  the  circulatory  system,  so  heart  issues  or  strokes  could  be  relevant.  uranus’  influence  adds  unpredictability,  suggesting  a  sudden  or  shocking  death,  possibly  during  a  groundbreaking  moment  in  science  or  technology.  if  uranus  is  poorly  aspected,  rebellious  or  unconventional  behavior  might  lead  to  dangerous  situations,  like  defying  safety  norms  or  engaging  in  risky  experiments.  aquarius  in  the  8th  suggests  a  passing  that  is  innovative,  impactful,  and  reflective  of  their  individuality  and  connection  to  collective  progress.  their  death  might  spark  change  or  inspire  others,  leaving  a  legacy  tied  to  the  future  they  envisioned.

 ★  pisces  in  the  8th  house  ★ 

a  mysterious  and  ethereal  death  tied  to  water,  dreams,  or  spirituality.  pisces’  connection  to  the  subconscious  suggests  passing  away  in  a  dream-like  state,  such  as  during  sleep,  under  anesthesia,  or  through  drowning.  deaths  involving  drugs,  alcohol,  or  escapism  might  also  occur,  reflecting  pisces’  tendency  toward  altered  states.  neptune’s  influence  adds  an  air  of  mystery,  with  deaths  potentially  surrounded  by  unclear  circumstances  or  long-term  illnesses  that  go  undiagnosed.  their  passing  might  happen  in  a  peaceful  or  spiritual  setting,  like  during  meditation,  prayer,  or  while  engaging  in  artistic  creation.  water-related  incidents,  like  slipping  into  a  river,  being  lost  at  sea,  or  even  floods,  are  significant  themes.  if  neptune  is  poorly  aspected,  confusion,  deception,  or  self-destructive  tendencies  could  play  a  role.  pisces  in  the  8th  suggests  a  death  that  is  symbolic,  intuitive,  and  tied  to  the  unseen  realms,  leaving  a  sense  of  mystery  and  emotional  depth  for  those  left  behind.

★  book  a  reading  ★  ★  masterlist  1  ★  ★  masterlist  2  ★

[giurochedadomani]

I think we can (sadly) assume that Bob might be kind of really touch starved. Also he gives me the impression that he tries to make himself as little / as invisible as possible, afraid that any request might be too much. I also think that once John works through his divorce, he might miss being relied on. Like, it was his fault what happened in his marriage and he's working on that, but the feeling of being needed was really nice. All of this to say that I'm imagining Bob carefully positioning himself so he receives John's celebratory clasp on the back after a mission, or how Bob might freeze (in a good way, breath catching and all) because John couldn't stop himself from fixing a stray curl, and how John maybe sloooowly catches up with the fact that Bob is doing all of this in purpose-- that he likes (and needs) to receive nice touches (and starts being more tactile with him on purpose).

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Word List: Psychology

more psychological concepts as reference for your poem/story

Mental fog - (also called clouding of consciousness) a mental state involving a reduced awareness of the environment, inability to concentrate, and confusion.

Metaworry - persistent worry about one’s own thoughts and cognitive processes.

Numbsense - the ability of some people who have lost feeling in part or all of their body to respond to tactile stimuli in the insensible area. Such individuals insist that they are not aware of any tactile sensations but can nevertheless discriminate between stimuli and point to where they have been presented.

Object love - in psychoanalytic theory, love of a person other than the self. It is a function of the ego and not the instincts as in object cathexis.

Oneirodynia - a form of dreaming characterized by nightmares or unpleasant dreams.

Passive joy - a feeling of extreme gladness, delight, or exultation of the spirit arising from a sense of well-being or satisfaction that involves tranquility and a feeling of contentment with things as they are.

Sauce béarnaise effect - a colloquial term referring to a conditioned taste aversion. If a person happens to become ill after tasting a new food, such as sauce béarnaise, they may subsequently dislike and avoid that food. Regardless of the actual cause of the illness, the sauce will be identified with it.

Sensitive soul - in the thought of Aristotle, the type of soul possessed by nonhuman animals. The sensitive soul has the capacity to receive and react to sense impressions but does not have a capacity for rational thought.

Symbiotic marriage - a marriage or partnership of codependency, whereby the individuals are entirely reliant upon each other for the gratification of certain psychological needs.

Synergic marriage - a marriage or partnership that is enhanced by the contributions the partners can make in satisfying each other’s psychological needs in a positive manner.

Source ⚜ More: References ⚜ Part 1 2 3 4 ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Okay so thought would Astarion just be uber happy if tav is just clinging to him and is like let me stay here where it is safe for just a little longer pleaseee

I think I'm feeling the energy. And it's an actual drabble instead of a novel! Cw: In-game references, spoilers, but this is just some fluffy fluff fluff.

~

When Astarion made the decision to seduce you, it had been based in cold rationality. In the short time he had known you, you had proven to be intelligent, capable, attractive enough for sex to not feel like a total burden, and extremely hard to kill. Using a falsified relationship to wrap you around his finger was the easy choice for survival. And it did work, with varying results.

Because you provided many, many complications. Like the unfortunate reality that Astarion quickly had grown sincerely fond of you. Not only were you impressively competent, you were fun. Hilariously bitchy in a way that never failed to make him laugh. But you were still kind, kind in a meaningful way that Astarion was simply not used to.

It had felt like a shock when you were so adamant about his right to be his own person. When you didn't make him bite that drow cretin he was struck with the realization that you actually cared about him. What that thing had been offering in return would no doubt have been useful to your journey, but you didn't even give it a second thought. And Astarion wouldn't soon forget how you saying, "He said no," with so much conviction had sent a shiver up his spine.

Perhaps the whole event sent him into a tailspin that ended with him admitting his, in-hindsight, horrible plan, but it had been worth it in the end. Gods knows why, but you didn't abandon him when he revealed the truth. You just listened. You listened and opened up your mind for him to see just how much you cared for him. A care he perhaps didn't deserve, but one he would take. Even if he had no idea what the two of you were doing anymore.

But he did know that something shifted in your relationship after that, the birth of a new kind of trust. Apparently, Astarion hadn't been the only one holding back.

Because seemingly overnight, you got a lot more touchy. A facet of yourself that he really had not seen coming. Not sexually, no. You had been nothing but a dream when it came to understanding the hang-ups he had with that particular topic. But you did suddenly decide that you loved holding hands. You loved hugging him, for no reason at all. The two of you went from the occasional night together before parting ways to simply sharing a tent. And gods were you a cuddler. Every morning he would wake up with you wrapped around him, peaceful and at ease as you slept in his arms.

And... it was nice. Really, really nice. Astarion had always assumed that he would loathe being with someone who was so tactile. But it turned out when every little touch wasn't leading to mediocre and/or horrifying sex they were actually quite enjoyable. It felt good to have you so close, to know that you felt safe and comfortable with him of all people. Nice enough for Astarion to slowly get addicted to it. He wasn't quite sure when his favorite past time became reading while you laid on top of him, but he knew it claimed to top spot with startlingly speed.

Even now, with Cazador still looming, the tadpoles still squirming behind your eyes, worries and responsibilities abound, Astarion felt completely at peace. He was laying flat on his back on his bed roll, a book in one hand and the other carefully petting your hair as you dozed off; your body completely draped over him. He'd have to wake you sooner than later. Baldur's Gate was only a day's journey away now, and if you wanted to make it there before nightfall then everyone would have to get moving. He could already hear the sound of the others shuffling about.

He snapped his book shut, setting it to the side before he gently shook you, "It's time to rise and shine darling, Baldur's Gate won't be saving itself."

You mumbled as you buried your face into his chest, your words slurred, "Don't wanna. Too early."

That was another change with this newfound phase of trust. Astarion had become the only person who knew your little secret of not being a morning person. In the first few moments of wakefulness, you were at your clingiest, your whiniest, surprisingly your most honest, and arguably your most adorable state of the day. A fact that you actively hid from the rest of the group out of sheer embarrassment, but Astarion thought it was cute.

Not to mention that it made him feel special, oddly enough. That he was the only one who was allowed to see you like this; who could take care of you like this.

Astarion laughed at your response, "Tell that to the sun sweetheart. It's high-time we got going."

Despite his own words, he wasn't really doing much to move the process along. If anything he was hindering it when he wrapped his arms around you, only helping to make you more comfortable instead of less.

But then again, maybe he wasn't quite ready to let you go yet either.

You shook your head against him, your hands tightening on the fabric of his shirt, "Le'mme stay, just a little longer."

"That's easy for you to say when you're not the one to get Lae'zel's wrath," Astarion lightly argued, still making no moves to actually hurry this process along. But it was true, Lae'zel always blamed your lateness on him, her favoritism towards you blatantly obvious. The bitch. But at least she was a bitch with good taste, "I would prefer not to be murdered by a gith for being tardy."

But you were already back to being half-asleep, your internal filter completely disintegrated as you mumbled, "Feels safe here, with you. Don't wanna let it go yet. Please?"

Gods, how the in the nine hells was Astarion supposed to say no to that? He didn't. Instead the grip he had on you only tightened, the happy little sigh you let out at the movement striking him straight through the heart. He felt so... happy in that moment, through nothing more than the simplicity of holding you. Because you trusted him. You felt safe with him, which might as well have been a love confession in Astarion's world. It felt so good to have this, an intimacy that he'd been denied for centuries.

Astarion settled back, letting his own eyes close as he smiled. The others would get the two of you eventually, but until then he wasn't going anywhere. No, the two of you would be staying right here.

[butchvampireheimerdinger]

okay hear me out…butch4butch Sevika where Sevika is a power bottom???👀 reader is taller and stronger than her but very shy and intimidated by her🙈

Pairing: Powerbottom!Sevika x gentle giant-service top! reader

Warnings: ns/fw, fingering, cunnilingus, grinding/dry humping, smoking, mentions of violence, and horny lesbian activityyyy

Word count: 3k

A/N: Love you. Love this. You have come to the right place for this one, my friend. The lack of butch4butch Sevika content is criminalll if that woman has a type it begins with D and ends in Y-K-E-S. Anyways, how appropriate is it that my first fic is butch4butch Sevika smut. Checks out. (that being said, it is my first fic so you freaks betta be NICE) Now without further ado…

You Have No Idea

By ButchVampireHeimerdinger

It was the slow ending to an eventful shift at the last drop. Customers were in good spirits all night, likely due to a sudden influx of Piltie goods some gang had rattled up through more or less honorable means and was making its way through town. In any case, the energy was contagious and it had you, the buff and generally even-tempered server/bouncer, doing things you didn’t normally do. Like drink on the job — just a beer you had been nursing for over forty minutes — and fraternize with patrons. Y’know, other than the obligatory how are you, do you wanna pay out now or open a tab. Real actual conversations -- which led you to number three on the list of Things You Don’t Normally Do; you were hunched over the bar playing Texas Hold ‘Em with three regulars. Two were men, you didn’t remember their names, but they always came to the bar at about this time. A package deal — they snickered in your direction as a nearby shady-looking customer walked out on his tab.

“Hey, isn’t that your cue, tough guy?” The man gave you a patronizing sort of eyebrow raise as he dealt the next round.

Technically, it was. You got hired pretty much on account of your physique — you were 6’3” and a tank, always had been. Broad shoulders, biggest girl on the playground growing up, you gained muscle at the drop of a hat. You didn’t even try. But it was all for show. You were more of a lover than a fighter. Sometime in the first few months of the job the staff discovered you were better equipped to work inside the bar. Customers liked you because you were polite, a breath of fresh air from the culture of animosity that permeated the undercity. Still, it didn’t help your ego in situations like this. ”Hey, you don’t know what she’s got under her sleeve.” The third voice at the table spoke up. The right hand of Zaun. Sevika.

She had been a regular since before you started and probably would be long after. You had heard some pretty nasty stories about her and the things she was capable of. But when she came up to your counter for a drink, she came without malintent, always respectful to the waitstaff. It was disarming. Tonight, especially, your eyes lingered over her toned shoulders and sharp collarbones.You wanted to run your hands over them, to see how her body would react. And maybe it was the house IPA you had been drinking, but probably not.

Sevika gestured toward your dwindling pile of poker chips with her chin as she looked down, analyzing her hand. “Clearly, she must be the type to play the long game.” This earned her another light fit of snickers from bar idiots one and two, but they were easily impressed. You rolled your eyes.

Sevika raised two chips. The table matched. She spoke again.

“So, tough guy, do those arms of yours get you any female attention? Since you’re obviously not using them for any other tactile purpose,” her eyes traveled to the empty seat where the tab-skipper had been sitting.

You shrugged, suddenly warm and very aware of your body and not sure where to rest your gaze. “I get around.”

For some reason, tweedles dum and dee found this hilarious, and howls of laughter followed. You slapped your hand over your heart and feigned a look of deep hurt, to mask the bit of real hurt you were feeling. Yeah, it had been a while, but surely not long enough to warrant that response.

“Is it that implausible?”

Sevika chuckled and shook her head, but her expression was good-natured.

“Just make your move, Casanova.”

You had a full house. Three aces. Two kings. You matched, and didn’t raise.

Sevika raised, the men matched, and you folded.

The table revealed their hands and Sevika won the pile with a straight. Not a bad hand, but the round would’ve been yours if you had taken the risk. Sevika clicked her tongue, scolding you, which made your palms sweat. You averted her gaze and became suddenly interested in wiping down the bar.

Following your pitiful defeat, the two guys payed out, leaving the bar empty save for you, Sevika, and a couple stragglers who always stayed until morning and probably didn’t have anywhere else to spend the night. To your surprise, the woman beckoned you over once more. Something in your heart lifted. Something in your pants dropped.

“Blackjack?” She pushed the cards toward you, and her dominant sort of gaze made you feel, once again, compelled to do what she asked.

You won the first few rounds. Sevika was risky to a fault. If it wasn’t 21 exactly, trust she would draw. And she always made you the dealer, watching your hands intently, hungrily, even, as you shuffled. The third round was a tie, but she didn’t have anything left to raise.

“Tell you what,” she said. “You win this round and I’ll spread it around that I walked out on my tab, and you chased me down and kicked my ass for it. Should prevent other situations like our friend earlier, at least for a while.”

“Are my bouncer abilities really that pathetic?” You picked at the side of your nails. Sevika’s gaze pierced through you and you found it difficult to meet her eyes. But you didn’t necessarily hate the way her eyes took you in. Slowly and deliberately, like you were a battle map and she was trying to parse out her strategy.

“And if you win?” You looked up, all innocent. Maybe you imagined it, but your doe eyes seemed to rile her up a little bit. Something in the way her jaw shifted, the way she rubbed her flesh palm on her pants.

“Already planning for defeat? See, this is exactly your problem. You’re talking through a universe where you lose before we’ve even started.” She shoved her pile towards you again.

“Deal ‘em.” She commanded, you obliged.

“I’m serious! I just wanna know what I’m agreeing to. Fools rush in, and all that.” Your voice made everything sound like a question. With her, it was. Sevika was hard to figure out.

“You’re cute. If I win, I want…” The woman took a hit of the blunt she was holding and used it to gesture, her movements creating little loops of smoke that rose and dissipated. Her eyes followed them, and not you. For once.

“I want an hour. With you. N’ those arms.” You jerked while shuffling, accidentally knocking over your beer in your surprise. You picked it up quickly, hoping she didn’t notice.

“You serious?”

“Deadly. Fuck me up, Casanova.”

She won. Wasn’t even close. Three sevens, if you could believe it. As soon as you slapped the last seven down, you both shot up from the counter at light speed and she followed you to the back.

“A little eager, aren’t we?” Her voice was low and husky, but with a little something else.

“Sore winner,” was all you could think to respond. You shoved her lightly. She shoved you harder with her prosthetic arm. The two of you kept at it, pushing and shoving back and forth as you practically raced to The Last Drop’s back office. Play-fighting, like you were “one of the boys,” but it had a bit of a bite to it. Like you wanted to eat each other alive.

The office was hardly used except for the rare moments when staff wanted to crunch numbers. Or, of course, engage in extra-professional affairs like this one. That couch had seen some things. You fiddled with the key for what was apparently a moment too long.

“I’m getting bored out here, Casanova.” You looked into Sevika’s eyes through her thick brows, a couple inches below yours. You slammed your shoulder into the door and it gave way immediately, with a satisfying bang as it swung open. Sevika followed, grabbing you by the shirt as she brought your lips down to hers, hard, and kicked the door shut behind her without looking.

She dragged you toward her, her back pressed against the peeling drywall. Her tongue dragged against your bottom lip and something deep in your pelvis vibrated in anticipation. One of your hands reached up to the wall, to keep you both steady. Sevika grabbed your other hand and guided it under her tank top. You squeezed her breast, tracing over her nipple with your thumb. Your bodies pressed together and you brought your knee in between hers, rolling your hips forward and pressing your leg into her crotch. She moaned into your mouth. Like her voice, it was deep and gravelly.

You set a pace. Her hips seemed to agree with it, bucking upwards to get that friction where she needed it most. Her hands gripped your waist and hips as she started to manhandle you, making you move faster against her. Your kissing was frantic and sloppy, like there was anger behind it. Your lips shined with her spit, and you moved to kiss up and down her neck. She reacted with a throaty panting noise when you got to a sensitive spot — a fleshy and soft area where her jaw met with her neck. You twisted your head to the side and downward to get better access, to fully exploit that weakness. Without fully thinking through your actions, your sucking collapsed into biting. You drove your teeth into her neck and Sevika’s jaw shot upward as her panting became gasping. She grabbed the back of your head and pushed it harder against her neck to say what she couldn’t; more, more, more.

Your hands fumbled with her belt and she noticeably did not help you with it. It was like she got a kick out of watching you struggle. You finally got them unzipped and you reached under to start palming her through her boyshorts. She had already soaked through. Good.

You pulled away to look down at her again while tugging lightly at her waistband. You raised your eyebrows to ask, May I? Chin still tilted upward, she nodded, huffed out a “yuh” sort of noise, and hooked her leg around the back of yours to bring your chests closer, all rough.

You pulled down the panties and your fingers dipped into her folds. Sevika’s eyebrows knitted even closer together, if that was possible. You continued sucking and working that spot on her neck. Her lips were against your ear and you heard her panting grow more desperate, more melodic; whines and vocalizations mixed with the gruff and grainy rhythmic in-and-out of her breaths.

Your middle and ring finger sort of skated all around her entrance, just barely avoiding her swollen clit. You took in the sight — Sevika’s heaving chest, her eyes closed as she chased the pleasure you were giving her. Her moans grew to something not exactly desperate, that wasn’t like her, but deranged and shameless. She panted like she was breathing fire. And like she didn’t care if all of The Last Drop could hear her, even though they probably couldn’t.

The pulse of her hips grew a little more erratic and she shifted her legs like she was ready to switch positions. You gestured subtly with your head toward the couch, and she dragged you toward it.

The woman collapsed on it and rested her arms outward, elbows relaxed on top like it was a throne. She leaned as far back as she could as you helped work her pants and boyshorts all the way down until they dropped to her ankles. She pulled her shirt off with both hands, pulling it up and over from the back of the neckline. She threw the tank top to the side and all of the air left your lungs, as you took in the sight of her upper body. Where you were buff, she was cut. Unlike you, Sevika didn’t have the type of figure that was imposing simply by nature — her physique came from blood, sweat, and tears. She had the body of a bruiser, of someone who spent their life fighting. The Sevika before you made you realize why some of the patrons kept their distance. But it somehow made you want to get closer. It made you want to please her, and to be good at it.

Sevika had a manspread going and you dropped to your knees in front of her. But she wasn’t having that — not yet. With her flesh hand she grabbed you by the throat and dragged you up to her lips for another messy kiss. Your teeth clashed together and when your tongues made contact, you felt those butterflies low in your pelvis. You moaned into her mouth instinctively, and it came out higher and breathier than you expected. You felt her lips form a slight smile against yours and she released her hold on your neck, making you drop down to your knees. You were certain the impact must have shook the entire city block.

Breathing heavy, you went to start kissing and sucking at her inner thigh, but she tilted your chin upward to look at her. Breathless, she commanded,

“Take your shirt off for me, Casanova. I wanna see those arms while you… Yeah.”

You fought the smile forming and stripped for her. You took off your tank top and sports bra the same way she had — in one fluid motion, from the back. You were caught between a sudden wave of self consciousness and the urge to draw it out, to put on a show for her. You settled at maintaining eye contact as you subtly flexed for her, and placed your broad hands on her knees. Sevika smiled, all smug as she reached over to a nearby discarded vest, brought out the rest of her blunt, and lit up as her eyes poured over your exposed upper body. She inhaled deep using her metal arm, and with her flesh hand she traced over your biceps, satisfied.

All confident, you started on her inner thighs, taking your time. When your lips finally connected with her wet cunt, you heard her make a sharp exhale through her teeth. You kept going, first going over it all with a flat tongue, drinking in the moment, then using your tongue to explore her folds. Sevika let out a satisfied hum as you started sucking at her swollen, neglected clit.

That was when you brought your fingers up to her entrance, casually tracing, nothing else. That pissed her off.

Sevika slapped the top of the couch to get your attention. Your eyes snapped up to hers as she leaned forward to get all up in your face, with her signature sneer on.

“Did someone pay you to waste my time?”

You froze.

“That wasn’t rhetorical, I’m seriously asking you if some outside party with an interest in distracting me paid you to bring me here and do absolutely nothing with me.” You raised your eyebrows, eyes all wide and innocent. That made her groan, and she covered her face with one hand, your puppy eyes making her feel horny and desperate and a little guilty about snapping at you.

“Just. Fuck. Me.” She collapsed backward and you didn’t respond, just immediately did what she asked. You pushed your two fingers inside her without warning — hard. Again she exhaled through her teeth.

With your mouth, you continued giving her clit attention, and you pushed in and out of her, fingertips maintaining contact with her front wall, the one closest to you.

The sounds she made were pornographic, and it made you aware of the pool of slick that had established itself in the crotch of your boxers. Listening to her body, you gradually picked up the pace and you found Sevikas hand weave through your hair, grabbing you roughly at the scalp and pressing you closer and closer still.

Her face was angled toward the sky as she whined, her metal hand gripping the cushion tight enough to create what was probably going to be permanent ripples in the fabric. You brought her closer and closer and her grip on your head tightened as she bucked her hips upward, essentially fucking herself on your tongue and fingers. She occasionally let out a depraved vocalization that a trained ear might recognize as “fuck,” “don’t stop,” and “faster-FUCK faster.”

Until the pulse inside her cunt became erratic, and you felt a familiar tremor in her legs. You didn’t let up. You started fucking her deeper, with more pressure, using your tongue to play with her clit faster. Sevika’s thighs involuntarily snapped up to trap your head and you brought your hands up to brace them. Your tongue still moving as she cried out, loud and animalistic as she rode out her orgasm. Her thighs held you so tight against her pussy that you couldn’t escape if you tried, and the strength would probably have suffocated someone more petite.

Eventually, Sevika’s cries retreated back into deep panting and her legs dropped back to the floor, still trembling and spasming. She looked down at you, eyes half lidded, and gave you what could have been interpreted as a smile. She spread her arms back out on the top edge of the couch cushions, somehow still holding the half-smoked blunt. You shook your hair and a bit of ash fell out, which made you giggle. You were so invested in fucking her, you hadn’t noticed the active fire hazard against your skin the whole time.

With her chin, the woman gestured to the spot on the couch next to her. You settled in, your sides touching and your head leaning back against where her bicep was resting. She wrapped that arm around to bring the blunt to your lips.

“You can finish it, I don’t like the roach,” she said, and you obliged. You took a deep hit from her fingers and the last fiery bits assaulted your lungs, but you liked it. Sevika ashed it out on the couch, as if you hadn’t already desecrated it enough. You settled into a comfortable silence and she allowed you to lean your head on her pec, still uncovered. Until she spoke up.

“Promise me something, Casanova.” Her voice hoarse and gravelly from the earlier activities.

“Mm?” you responded. She wrapped her arm around you to reach up and ruffle your hair.

“Promise me you’ll never get good at cards.” You sucked your teeth and sneered back at her, giving her a hefty shove, which she gladly returned with equal force.

[jweekgoji]

Will you write for some Yandere!Orion Pax x reader? 👉👈

Yandere!Orion Pax/Reader [TFO/hcs]

tw: yandere themes, gn!cybertronian!reader, very brief mention of murder/death, mostly soft!yandere!Orion, overprotective, dependent behavior. word count: ~1000. a/n: i love making headcanons.

Orion is an obsessive, clingy and overprotective yandere that's for sure.

Orion is focused on you 24/7 in his mind, every time he's going out with someone else, he will constantly think of you. He's not having a fixation on you, like D-16 would with his darling, more like a thoughtful «I wonder if they will like it if I give it to them» or «if I COULD transform, I would be carrying them around everywhere!». His thoughts are mostly innocent, even though they often lead him to cause even more trouble. He will seek out a thousand risky stunts to do just to impress you, and he doesn't really care if Darkwing will beat him up because of it.

It is no secret that Orion is clingy. I already described it in other posts, and I will ramble about it again, but that silly guy does NOT know how to keep his servos to himself. Yandere Orion just can't comprehend the fact that you may not like it. You can find it weird, rude or just not tactile, and if he finds out, that's a pure torture. At first, he might find it funny and not take it seriously, you're probably in that «edgy, no nonsense and independent» phase some bots have, so he finds it his own personal goal to warm you up to him.

If you're somehow still adamant about it, I can see him trying to restrain himself from just squishing you against his frame the second he sees you in the same room with him. Cogless tiny Orion will be a sweetheart, so he always finds a way to satisfy his own needs without crossing the line. One day it's a simple touch on your shoulder, then he will try to hold your servo if lucky, and maaaaybe even give you a tiny peck on the cheek as soon as you look away from him. Touch is his love language!

Yandere cogged Orion/Optimus is a huge sweetheart but when he's tired and emotionally drained, the only thing he wants is to wrap his arms around you and hold you close to himself. Stay like that and don't say a word, it's not like you have a chance to escape.

Orion doesn't look like a person who thinks about his own safety. You will watch him running around Iacon from another trouble he got himself into, and he will even drag D-16 with him. Even though in his mind, it's for a better cause, If you're really close and dear to him, he also wants you to be the part of this adventure because he desires the better future for everyone and for both of you specifically. Together.

As Orion, still young, idealistic and naive bot, I never see him taking away your freedom. If you wish to tag along with him on the race, even though it's the most dangerous thing ever, especially with both of you not having any t-cogs...he will gladly accept it! As yandere Orion always cares about your well-being, but it's never the boring «I will lock you up just so you will always be safe» type of overprotectiveness. He neglects his own well-being to the point where he will gladly lose an arm or a leg if it means protecting you, and he doesn't care that he might die because of it.

You should constantly remind him to check Ratchet at least for once, but he will jokingly dismiss it since he's more concerned about that tiny dent on your frame. How did you get it? Do you need him helping you to polish? Orion already drags you to medic, meanwhile he is standing there holding broken metal pieces of his own body and like “that's just a scratch!”.

We all saw how Orion got protective over Elita once she was fired by Darkwing. His first thoughts are "yeah, I will NOT let that slide" even though he is two times smaller than their supervisor. Orion is a fighter for justice, for his darling he's a true gentleman, or...tries to be at least.

He's not that type of yandere who will murder someone if they hurt you, because his own beliefs are strong and unclouded. Yes, in the heat of battle, when it's either your life or the life of the enemy, he will never hesitate to end them, but even then he feels guilty about it (especially if we talk about young Orion/Optimus). If he actually ends up hurting someone, he will be devastated, and might as well take a long time to process it all.

How did it happen? How could he let this happen? He fights for freedom, for everyone, no matter if they're enemy or not, they all deserve at least a one chance for redemption. There will be a time when Orion blames himself for it, it corrupts his spark slowly, to the point where he thinks of himself as unworthy of you.

As much as Orion is an inspiring, he's self-conscious. The more not-so-happy events you go through together, the more he becomes dependent on you. You're a part of Orion's life, he can't shine brightly without his little satellite.

Yandere!Orion would constantly need you by his side. It doesn't matter where he is going, as long as he is with you. During his lowest moments, he wants you to reassure him and give him that comfort that will keep him at bay. He didn't mean to hurt anyone, but that worry and spark of rage blinded him, leaving his own servos dirty in the stranger's energon.

Young Orion is one of the softest yanderes to deal with. He still has to learn a lot about his own place in this world, his motivation, and his strength. Everything felt so easy when you were just two cogless bots, but the more time passes, the harder it is to deal with more complex feelings. Jealousy, disappointment, and regret. At the end of the day, you're the only person to keep him sane and not to collapse from the responsibilities on his shoulders. The problem is, it is too hard to get rid of that dependence.

[ms-demeanor]

I don't even really get the impression that if you were domming someone there would be anything "motherly" about

Yeah no I'm much more likely to be projecting semi-detached professionalism. If I'm domming I'm not really there for roleplay, I'm there to supervise you while you're locked down and squirming. I talk like tech support when I'm in a scene. "Not too tight? Good. I'm gonna take the vibe up two settings, yeah? Okay, great, I'm gonna leave that there, snap your fingers when it's getting to be too much; we'll keep ramping it up until you have to tap out." I like being unaffected and in control while people are losing it and I am not particularly tactile or into being touched or getting off while I'm doing that.

Which is great if you like to be dehumanized and objectified and hand yourself to me like you're taking a car to a mechanic! Less great if you're looking for a lot of praise or comfort or physical contact in the moment.

[mbruben-stein]

MHA Boys dating Female Blind S/O who has the Personality and abilities like Toph Beifong. (From: Avatar The Last Airbender.) Part 1.

Part 2.

~Bakugo~

At first, Bakugo underestimates her abilities due to her blindness, but is quickly impressed when she demonstrates her incredible earthbending skills and fiercely independent nature. This gains his respect.

Bakugo likes that his S/O is blunt, sarcastic and unafraid to call people out, just like he is. They bond over their shared "take no crap" attitudes.

He's protective of her but learns she doesn't need or want to be coddled because of her disability. Still, he secretly looks out for her in his own gruff way.

They have an unspoken understanding and are comfortable just hanging out together, even if it's in total silence. Neither needs unnecessary words to communicate.

Sparring matches between them get INTENSE since they're both highly skilled fighters determined to win. Bakugo is forced to get creative against her seismic sense and metalbending.

He starts learning seismic sensing basics from her to improve his own battle instincts and spa awareness. Teaching him earthbending techniques becomes a bonding activity.

PDA is minimal but Bakugo allows little gestures, like her feeling his face or holding his arm in crowded public spaces so they don't get separated.

In private, he can be physically affectionate, enjoying how attuned her sense of touch is. Gentle caresses, trailing fingers, soft kisses - it's a whole different tactile language between them.

If anyone dares pity or talk down to her, Bakugo immediately pops off on them, ready to throw hands to defend her honor until she reins him in (or joins in taking the ableist jerk down a peg).

They're the ultimate battle couple - in sync, fearless, and an absolute unit when they fight villains side-by-side. Enemies don't stand a chance against their power couple prowess.

~Kirishima~

Kirishima deeply admires his S/O's strength, confidence and determination. Her blindness doesn't hold her back at all and her earthbending abilities amaze him. He finds her tough, independent spirit very manly and attractive.

His S/O uses her earthbending to "see" by sensing vibrations, just like Toph. Kirishima thinks it's really cool how she perceives the world in a unique way. She can always tell where he is and when he's approaching.

They love training and sparring together. His hardening quirk makes him one of the few people who can withstand her powerful earthbending head-on. It pushes them both to get stronger.

His S/O is blunt, sarcastic and rebellious, which Kirishima finds exciting compared to his more straight-laced personality. She encourages him to be bolder and take more risks sometimes.

Kirishima is very physically affectionate and loves hugging/cuddling his S/O, who tolerates it more than she lets on. She grumbles about him being a sap but he can tell she enjoys it.

Being extremely loyal, Kirishima is always ready to defend and support his S/O, though she rarely needs his help. Still, she appreciates knowing he always has her back no matter what.

His S/O hates relying on others and Kirishima respects her fierce independence. But he's always there if she does need him. Making her accept help when she's being too stubborn is a sign of how much she trusts him.

Others underestimate his S/O because of her blindness and petite size. Kirishima gets furious when villains or bullies look down on her. Watching their shock when she demolishes them with her earthbending is very satisfying.

Off-duty, she prefers comfortable, practical clothes she can earthbend in, nothing restricting or fussy. Kirishima doesn't care about superficial things like clothes and makeup anyway - he likes her for who she is.

Above all, Kirishima and his S/O connect through their shared passion - becoming the greatest heroes they can be. Her unbreakable spirit and determination to succeed no matter the odds inspire him everyday to be his best self.

~Kaminari~

Denki was initially drawn to his s/o's feisty, independent personality. He loves how she doesn't let her blindness hold her back at all. She has the same adventurous spirit as him.

His s/o uses her earthbending to "see" through feeling vibrations, just like Toph. Denki thinks it's amazing how she visualizes and navigates the world this way.

They playfully tease and sass each other a lot, both having snarky senses of humor. Lots of witty banter between them. Denki has met his match!

His s/o is blunt and straightforward, never hesitating to call Denki out if he's acting dumb. But he knows it comes from a place of love.

Denki sometimes forgets about her blindness, like when he tries to show her memes. She just rolls her eyes fondly. It's NBD to her.

She likes feeling the electric tingling sensation when he uses his quirk. It's a unique way for them to connect.

Denki is protective of her but knows she can handle herself. Still, he stays close by in case she needs him, like helping navigate unfamiliar places.

PDA isn't her thing but she shows affection in other ways, like light punches on the arm or resting her head on his shoulder.

Denki describing new sights and experiences to her when they're out on dates. He's detailed so she can picture it clearly.

His s/o teaching Denki some sick earthbending moves. He loves watching her in action - such power and confidence! He's always in awe.

Denki boasting that his girlfriend is the toughest, most badass chick around. He's super proud to be with someone so strong & inspiring.

~Shinso~

Shinso is initially drawn to her confident, independent personality that is a refreshing change from how people usually walk on eggshells around him due to his Quirk. Her blunt honesty and sarcastic quips keep him on his toes.

Like Toph, s/o uses her earthbending-like abilities to "see" through vibrations in the ground. Shinso finds it fascinating how she perceives and interacts with the world. Her unique perspective helps him realize there are many ways to be a hero.

S/o loves to spar and wrestle with Shinso, eager to test her combat skills against his capture weapon techniques. He has to adapt to her straightforward fighting style. Their competitive natures push each other to improve.

Shinso enjoys the fact that appearances and surface judgements mean nothing to her. She sees (or rather, senses) people for who they truly are underneath, just like she did with him and his Quirk.

He admires her determination to never let her blindness hold her back or make her a damsel in need of protection. But he still looks out for her in subtle ways, while respecting her autonomy.

S/o makes a lot of blind jokes and puns which always get an amused snort out of Shinso even though he tries not to encourage her. Their senses of humor are very in-sync.

Shinso actually finds her tomboyish nature and utter lack of concern about looks/fashion endearing, since he's not one for superficiality either. He likes that she's always unapologetically herself.

Overall, they balance each other well - her brash assertiveness brings Shinso out of his guarded shell, while his rational steadiness tempers her reckless streak. They make a great team in hero work and in life, two "underdogs" who found belonging with each other.