#You are free to point out other instances then

[boop-le-snoot]

kinktober #4

Light My Fire

kinktober day four | temperature play & monsterfucking (?) | cw: 18+, self-explanatory. Good!Loki is a Jötun and Avenger!You have fire powers. Rather fluffy, just two dorks in love goofin' | word count 2k | click here for full list of planned fics | author's note under the cut |

“Darling, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“You are occasionally a little over 8 feet tall and very cold and blue. I am average tall but set myself on fire regularly without repercussions. I think we passed these sorts of questions a good while ago.” You pointedly bit into your toast, watching Loki watching you over the rim of his teacup.

Why did he insist on having tea from one specific antique tea set - and having to refill the cup at least five times in the process - instead of getting a mug like a normal person, you did not know.

Slumped over your breakfast in your Garfield pajamas, you eyed your boyfriend pat the corner of his mouth with his monogrammed kerchief before he vanished it away and stood up. His green button-up clung to his chest deliciously.

“Such a way with words.” Loki chuckled and patted over to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “But I see your point. We could either seriously harm each other or end up having a wonderful, one-of-a-kind experience.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You nodded. He stole a piece of toast and pointed it at your nose, tapping the appendage gently with the hard crust. “And Tony would never forgive us if we at least did not try.”

“Since when do you care about what Tony thinks?”

Loki gave you an impish look. “He's not all terrible. Remember the time he 3-D printed an exact replica of Mjolnir and I haunted Thor the entire day with it?”

“Thor had a mental breakdown.” You replied dryly even as your mouth involuntarily curled into a smirk.

Loki, however, gave a wide smile. “Uh-uh. Tony filmed the entire thing start to finish.”

A chuckle broke out of you before you could stop it. You liked Thor, you ready did, but that had been just a single instance of mischief in the multiple-century long prank war between the brothers. The blonde had gotten you several times in the process of getting back at Loki and you would be lying if you didn't feel vindicated for all those times you had found glitter in odd places and worse...

Not that you yourself lacked your fair share of questionable life decisions. Having fiery super-powers, being an Avenger, being Loki's girlfriend, challenging Natasha to a knife throwing competition... The list goes on. So what if you wanted your icy boyfriend to be icy in bed? So what if he wanted your fiery self be fiery in bed? They do say opposites attract and yada-yada-yada...

“Makes me wonder what the fire giants look like,” you said absent-mindedly later that night while the two of you lounged in your oversized tub. You rolled a small fireball in your palm as Loki sipped his wine.

“Like demons,” he snorted. “Nothing attractive about them.”

“Some would say demons are attractive,” you shrugged. “I think Jötuns are attractive.” Using your free hand, you squeezed a slender, muscular thigh. Loki flexed it and you ran your knuckles over the hard muscle. “Although you're the only one I've seen. Might have to tell Tony to ban any more from Earth least they come to steal all the women away, being this handsome.”

Loki's cool hand reached up over your stomach to idly toy with your breast. “Is that so? Is my Asgardian form not as stimulating?” He mused.

You pushed into the touch, purring. “There's just more of you to love, babe.”

His unmistakable laugh filled up the bathroom, genuine amusement as he flicked at your nipple and leaned down to kiss your neck. “I do not think that is anatomically possible.”

“Pfft,” you scoffed. “Ye of little faith! Have you been on the internet? Anything is possible, provided there is an adequate amount of lube and some leverage.”

The internet - surprise, surprise - was wrong. Loki expressed an unfair amount of amusement at this, and you daredsay, even gloated a little bit. Shutting him up in this form was harder than when he was regular Loki, but not doable. It was, as you both had agreed, a learning curve.

He was cold to touch. Not as a metal pole at a ski resort as you had previously thought, but enough to cause a pleasant, clean chill to settle in the back of your skull as you took the tip of his hard, blue cock intro your mouth. That was about as much as you could fit without going full Chelsea Smile around it. Your hands, kept warm by your powers, slid down his shaft, tender fingertips tracing the textured ridges covering every inch of his skin.

They were truly everywhere, and they were sensitive. Splayed on the various animal skins in front of the fireplace, Loki was a sight to behold: all cerulean blue and raven-haired, red eyes lidded with desire as they observed your exploration with mirrored curiosity. As you warm hands curled around him, a low hiss left his lips.

Attempting to say, “did that hurt?” with your mouth so full was a disaster. Loki chuckled anyway, and brought a large, cool palm to rest atop your head.

“No, darling,” his voice, in this form little more than a low growl, did something indecent to your insides. “Feels incredible.” A sigh as you swirled your tongue around the sensitive head. “I surely wish you'd let me at least keep my Asgardian measurements...”

Yes, but no. It would have been more practical, sure, but it wasn't the full Jötun experience you were seeking. With a wet pop, you dislodged your mouth from his cock to delight in his full-body shiver. To remedy the lack of your mouth, heat began to radiate from your palms; roughly the same temperature as the inside of your mouth.

“Not unless you are on board with me keeping the fire lukewarm,” you teased gently, watching his red eyes darken to a lovely burgundy. Slowly, you slid your hands over his lubricated flesh.

Loki was generous with his microexpressions in this form, with him being larger allowing for easier observation. Lust, love, yearning, a dash of insecurity and concern. He was your Loki through and through, simply blue.

“I fear I may have less allocated space for patience in this form,” he mused.

Captivating. His reclined position and the fire dancing over his skin, the horns growing tall and strong above his forehead - the helmet imitation did them no justice - Loki was a vision to behold. You wanted to eat him like the world's most exotic ice lolly and ride that fanged mouth until you forgot your own name and knew only his.

“Fuck,” you eloquently summarised your train of thought just as your hands stroked him to full mast. Loki merely tilted his head. Knowing that look well, you batted your eyelashes and gave him the final stroke before shamelessly climbing up onto his lap.

You wore nothing but a thigh-length slip of fine Asgardian silk, just like you knew he liked. Your hot, glistening cunt connected with the shaft of his cock as you settled above it, eliciting a sigh of wanton relief. Loki felt like a bag of frozen goods. You wanted to press him against everything sore.

His large, cold palm stroked the side of your face.

“Mmm,” you leaned into it, unconsciously shifting your hips to press closer to the textured hardness of his cock. It twitched as your wetness joined the spit you'd previously covered it in. Some adjusting was to be had - Loki waited patiently as you found your spot, and used his other hand to make you sit down just right. With that first, slow, slick grind, both of you were gone.

It came naturally. Loki's hands on your hips, on your face, sliding your slick cunt over the tip of his own leaking cock. His abs flexed with each measured movement; you kept your palms in closed fists, knowing better than to open them when you were this riled up.

Hurting each other was both of yours' biggest fears and it showed in the way you'd swallowed some of your moans upon feeling the beginnings of a spark crackle on your tongue. Loki refused to take his darkening eyes off your face for he would definitely lose himself in the moment and do... Something.

The intensity of your coupling grew. Your cunt provided ample lubrication on the account of your clitoris receiving all that extra stimulation from the ridges and valleys covering his cock. On harder thrusts, the very tip of his cock snagged the edge of your entrance, causing him to growl and you to whine when your hungry hole was forced to relent and clench around nothing.

It was exhilarating torture. Your cries of pleasure, as usual, only spurred the Jötun prince on.

As you arched your back and moaned loudly and brokenly up to the ceiling at a particularly hard thrust, Loki's deep growling added to the delightful cacophony of sex. He firmly held your hips, sharp nails digging into the meat of your ass, and pushed you down on his cock, missing your hole by sheer luck.

“Come for me, darling,” he rasped in that icy-sharp, husky voice. “I can feel your little quim begging for me. I may not be able to resist fucking you if you cry for me so sweetly.”

Never being the one to disobey reasonable orders, you and your abused pussy gushed your agreements as heat burst from your lower stomach and spread into your body and limbs. Loki's drawn-out hiss had you weakly trying to scramble, to get away from him least your elevated temperature burn the Jötun, but he held steadfast.

Eyes so deeply red they were almost black, Loki looked you directly in the face before his cock twitched for the last time.amd coated his chest and your front with an abundance of silver seed. His body shook with restraint even when his mouth had fallen lax and eyes lidded low; he let you rock forward to rest a hand on his hard chest as both of you caught your breath.

Giving into your body's demands, you fell ahead, uncaring of the mess. Immediately, a cold arm draped itself over you. A moment of silence was had. You licked your dry lips, sputtering somewhat as sticky - but not unpleasant - seed made way into your mouth.

“Are you alright?” Loki drawled, still breathless.

You briefly contemplated the phrasing of what you were about to say, but in the end decided to be completely honest as you two had sworn to be to each other.

“Your come tastes like snow. Literal snow.”

You heard Loki's heart skip a beat and then his chest shook, the chuckle as incredulous as your discovery.

“Noted.” Pause. “Yours feels like lava.”

Despite everything, you simply shook your head and laughed. “That's what were writing down in our science report for Tony?”

“Yes.” Loki nodded seriously. With a careless swipe of his hand, the mess disappeared, and you promptly found yourself staring at the ceiling. “Experiment number two. I am going to find out whether it also tastes like lava,” he said impishly.

Your tummy clenched in anticipation, but then you heard the proverbial sound of brakes skidding in your head. “Wait. How do you know what lava tastes like?”

“I be in situations,” ever the dutiful boyfriend, Loki mumbled his reply into the fat above your cunt on his way down to make you see stars once again. You were not complaining at all.

a/n: I'm personally very impartial to Loki being a little over 8 feet tall in his Jötun form. For, you know, reasons. My nature's pocket can fit a lot of fun things in it, but I don't know about yours so... I left the fine details to your imagination. See how I don't describe the size of his appendage? Very demure, very mindful. ✨

Additionally, I don't think Asgard has a book on erogenous zones of peoples they conquered and genocided. I'd like to think that they're both clueless here and Loki is getting to know his Jötun body in a sexual setting. But that's just me.

[icewindandboringhorror]

me everytime I am preparing a meal with multiple elements I have to balance so they all finish cooking at the same time: Wow this is just like the 2009 hit Nintendo Wii game 'Food Network: Cook Or Be Cooked'

[sexbot300]

Geto was an asshole. He took pride in the fact that he had you soaking your panties just from exchanging a few degrading words.

Gojo was a bigger asshole. He would point out how making fun of your slicked folds, clinging onto your pink panties, made you even wetter.

“No way Suguru,” your back completely pressed to a wall, too timid to move, “I think if we say something else she might just squirt.” His slender fingers lifted at the edge of your skirt, raising the front piece of fabric. This left the two tall men gazing at your exposed thighs, revealing your underwear on full display.

The black-haired man stood up from the edge of the bed, “Poor thing, poor, poor girl.” His voice full of a condescending pity, “Are you sure she didn’t already cum?” His piercing gaze left your weeping cunt before casually pulling out his phone.

You stood there, gulping slowly, skin feeling incredibly hot to the touch. Fuck. “P-please… just stop, you’ve been teasing me for an hour, I’m a good girl, I promi-”

“Oh! Oh~ you hear that, Suguru?! I think the toy thinks we care about it’s feelings.” He lets out a little snicker.

Dropping to his knees, Gojo stands mere inches away from your slick heat. With his free hand, his thumb and index finger grip the upper part of your panties. In an instance, he shoves your underwear upwards, causing a bit of pressure to your clit and revealing more of your lips. A gasp left your mouth.

“How adorable,” he cooed, warm breath hitting your pussy with every word he exclaims “greedy little cunt is eating even her panties up. How gross~”

Geto’s face makes a sweet smile, “I think,” he clicks his tongue, his darkened eyes meeting yours, “I think she’s lying about being a “good girl” Satoru…” he shifted his body around so you can only see his intimidating, broad, back.

Geto angled the phone so it displays you shamefully pinned against a wall, the squatting Gojo inches away from your cunt staring at the front-facing camera. The pair sharing shit-eating grins. A ding button. Recording.

“Put on a show for us, y/n, yeah?” Geto spoke softly, slowly tugging at the hem of his pants while approaching you.

“Don’t be camera shy! This isn’t blackmail! We just want to help you come to terms that you’re nothing but a dirty slut that exists to take our cocks.” Gojo pouted his lips, “okay?”

You only blinked several times at both of the men, they shared a look of hunger in their eyes.

43:57 minutes and seconds in. You’re laying on your back, thighs pinned behind by two large hands. The bed creaked with every thrust Gojo pounds into you, his veiny cock angling in a way that made your eyes roll back into your skull. Your cunt feels as if it’s about to tear from the girth this man had, but you did not want this to stop. Above you stood Geto, his massive balls slapping against your nose as his dick abused your throat while face fucking you.

Tears rolling down your face, mascara staining your cheeks, lipstick smeared on both dicks and their faces, saliva pooling everywhere. Was it moans that escaped your mouth or the sound of gagging?

“Y-yeah? You see that Sugur-” grunt, “-uhhh. Just had to break this cunt in.” He grinned while pushing into you at an impossibly fast pace. Skin on skin, pelvis on pelvis– harshly filling the room with sound.

A chuckle erupted from the other man, face in a haze while you sucked his dick as if it’s your last meal. “T-told you “good girls” don’t take a cock this good.”

—

[a-b-riddle]

Part 10

Can't stop thinking about reader realizing she fucked up.

"What?" You asked, unsure if you heard him correctly. "I did stuff for Simon." He opened his mouth slightly before shutting it, almost as if he was afraid to argue with you. He was. "I did things for Simon." You repeated. "I did."

You took pause. Racking your brain for examples to throw in his face. You had always tried to be the best girlfriend. and look where it had gotten you. You were always the one to reach out, to plan dates. The only one to manage your time equally among all of them even if it meant stretching yourself then.

But the more you thought, the more you came up short.

"I definitely treated Simon the same." You defend.

Here lately you had been spending more time with the others than Simon. Every evening was the same without fail. He would call you no later than 9, asking if you were busy. Sometimes you were already out with the others, but in the instances you weren't Simon would ask to come over. An excuse of not being able to sleep.

When he first gave you that excuse, you expected him to be using it as just an excuse to come over and fuck you.

But he didn't.

Not that night. Or the next.

The third time he did fuck you. He was a man, not a saint after all. You weren't sure if it was because he was the last one you got around to being intimate with, but it just felt different. The others were great. Letting you turn your brain off and letting them take control.

Where the others took the reins, Simon guided you. It was more like dancing than fucking. Your bodies working in harmony with one another. He would listen intently to each little moan or staggered breath you took. Wouldn't take his eyes off of your face when he ate your cunt. Wanting to take in every reaction you would give him.

He had created a flow of how to fuck you. A way to ensure he pulled several orgasms from you before you practically passed out from exhaustion. You would try and switch things up with different positions and giving him head, but Simon was a simple man. Once he found a way that worked, he stuck with it. He let you indulge. Spicing things up, but he always made a home in between your thighs at some point.

It had been like that ever since. Over and over again like clock work, he would call. He wouldn't always fuck you. Mostly either one or both of you complaining about a hard day and insisting on just having the company of the other. However, it wasn't until Mere had made a comment on why she hadn't met Simon yet.

It was like finally noticing something on a commute you took everyday. Day in and day out you came across it without every really taking note. How oblivious you had been.

Simon had only came over at night. Although he would bring take out or cook dinner with you, he had never taken you out on a date. Not even so much as a cup of coffee-- tea in his case.

You pressed him about it one night.

You seem pretty busy during the day. Plus, that's when I catch up on sleep was his reasoning and you didn't press him.

Simon had always complained about not being able to sleep. You didn't mind the company. So whenever he called and you were free. That's just how the relationship had been between you two. You both seemed satisfied with the dynamic.

"It was just different with me and Si," you defended. "He didn't need any help from me or ask it." You wanted to say he hadn't been as needy as Johnny, Kyle or John, but kept that opinion to yourself.

"Or did he just not feel like he could ask you?" Kyle's question gave you a moment of pause. Your mouth falling open. Appalled at the suggestion.

"Don't try and turn this around on me." You narrow your eyes at Kyle and his audacity. You were the one who was hurt. You didn't like being the victim, but in this scenario you were. "If Simon had any issue he would have said something."

"Like you did with us?" He asked. His boldness growing. "And I'm not trying to turn this around on you, I'm just saying that there everyone had their issues in not communicating on what was really going on. I should have told you how I felt, they should have told you and you should have told us."

"Oh," you said, head tilting to the side and condescension lacing your tone. "So when was I supposed to do that? When John was snapping at me or Johnny had his tongue buried inside of me. God knows you weren't exactly answering my texts and Simon had been the only one I didn't have issues with."

"But you still came to him about us." Outed was the only word fitting enough to describe how you felt. You had tried to keep your relationships separate as well as the issues and frustrations that came along with it.

"He told you?" You asked, feeling embarrassed and, somewhat, fearful about what exactly Simon had said to them. The asshole was just so easy to talk to. For someone who was so reserved, you found it second nature to open up to him. "When?"

"Any chance he got." Kyle huffed. The confession shocked you. If anything, yes, maybe John would have been the one to tell the boys to fall in line if he knew they were falling short, but Simon? The man who couldn't ever be bothered to plan a date?

"I don't understand." You shook your head as if that would jumble the pieces of your thoughts well enough that they would somehow fit together; painting you a clearer picture. "Simon... he..." His words echoed in your mind. Even now they still haunted you. A ghost reminding you of your naivety. "He said some really shitty things."

"I know." Kyle's face fell and you could almost see the anger flicker in his eyes before it extinguished into something more solemn. "He knew he was the last thing holding you to us. Severing that tie would make it easier for you to lease."

"Losing you wasn't easy." You replied through clenched teeth. Tears prickling your eyes. "Is that what you think? That this has been easy for me?"

"I don't think it's been easy, but I know it's the truth." A small part of you knew he was right. And you hated him for it. "Simon was the only one putting in any effort on our end. He was the only reason we didn't lose you sooner." He took your hand in his. Rubbing small circles in your palm. Something he did to soothe. Funny how now the gesture was breaking your heart. "If it's any consolation, he didn't mean what he said."

You scoff, tears now falling as you pull your hand from him. "Just because he didn't mean it, doesn't mean it's not true." You cross your arms over your chest. No longer giving him the chance to try and reach out again.

"Do you think any of us actually felt that way about you?" Kyle asked, his tone a mixture between disbelief and sorrow. He knew Simon's words were meant to cut, but their actions had made his declaration deem true.

"You didn't exactly prove otherwise." The confirmation causes him to falter, not knowing what to say, how to comfort you. It was like somewhere along the way he had lost the knowledge on how to treat you, how to care for you. It was like he didn't know you, but still loved you all the same.

It was killing him.

After several uncomfortable moments of silence, he spoke. "I know John told you we were all on our own in terms of fixing this. But I want you to know that we all regret how we went about things. How we treated you was unacceptable and there is truly no excuse. I can only hope that you let us have the privilege in at least trying to make it up to you."

You let out a breath. Your chest aching as a sob threatens to bubble to the surface.

You swallow it down.

"So I take it then Johnny is taking the same route as Simon?" You couldn't blame him. You had put the final nail in the coffin of your relationship. Fucking and leaving him like that... Not to mention all the details Kyle gave you of the aftermath. No doubt Johnny would feel like being forgiven was pointless by now.

"Johnny is chomping at the fuckin' bit." He laughed. "If Simon and Price weren't keeping a leash on him right now he'd be here right now and I don't think we could get him out of here a second time."

"Well three out of four then." You sighed. "I just can't believe it got this far." Shaking your head, you leaned back against the cushions "I mean, I get that all of you had your own lives, families and stuff going on... But even then, I can't believe Simon found it so easy to say those things. Looking back, yeah, I wasn't girlfriend of the year, but I wasn't a bad girlfriend."

Silence.

"Kyle?" He bit his lips. He wanted to say something. "Kyle." You pressed. "Out with it."

"You don't need to bring it up."

"Fine." You said, but technically didn't promise anything.

"And it's not your fault for forgetting." Your patience was growing thin. Your emotional battery was low and even with a good nights rest you knew it would take a while before it recharged. "Fuck," Kyle rubbed his face, contemplating best how to tell you. "The night you called Simon..." he explained. "It was April 25th."

You waited, not completing grasping what he was trying to say.

April 25th...

What was so damn special about April 25th that made Simon so fucking angry? You didn't buy the whole 'letting you go thing', so it had to be something

Why that day?

April 25th: not an anniversary or a birthday. Not Easter or Christmas. Simon really didn't celebrate Christmas given what happened to Tommy, Beth and Joseph.

Joseph...

Fuck. Joseph.

Your throat felt fight.

What had you done?

He probably just got home from the cemetery when you called to cry about Johnny. Fuck.

Joseph's birthday.

Simon was a man that didn't do a lot of sentimental things. But every year, on Joseph's birthday he would visit his nephew's plot with a toy. You didn't know what he said or how long he stayed but he indulged you once. Telling you he just went, sat by with the toy next to the headstone for a bit before leaving.

Simon was reliving one of the happiest days of his life that was now tainted. And you complained about Johnny leaving after fucking you.

"Oh my God." You drew out shakily. Kyle could see the tears beginning to form. Horror manifesting in your eyes. "What the fuck?"

"You didn't know." He tried to soothe as if that were some sort of excuse.

"I forgot." Confessing it out loud felt like a spike going straight through your chest. "How the fuck did I forget?" Kyle didn't know what else to do. Fuck whatever awkwardness and boundaries you would set before fully accepting him back, he pulled you to his chest, allowing you to sob.

You weren't sure how long you had sat there. Kyle's arms enveloping you as you released it all. Eventually you did subside. His shirt marked with evidence of your tears and snot.

"No wonder he fucking hates me." You said it so softly, so broken, Kyle's heart broke for you.

"Simon doesn't hate you." His attempt of soothing you was admirable, but you knew it wasn't true. How could someone not hate another person after that? Forgetting the birthday of your brutally murdered nephew to call and bitch about not getting cuddled after sex. "If he did, he wouldn't have made sure you got home okay after your date. And the guy at the club-"

"He told you about that?" You shouldn't have been shocked. After all John knew.

"Only after he asked to standby in case bail was needed." He tried to joke. "The point is, there is coming back from this." Taking his thumbs, he brushed away the stray tears that hadn't made it to his shirt. "For all of us."

[risestarkiss]

Orange, Baby!

Rise Ramblings #316

When I think about Mikey, this scene always comes to mind.

As soon as they step foot in the library to save Mayhem, Angelo instantly disqualifies himself…hilariously.

On first watch, I found it interesting that he made this decision with no hesitation, especially given the stakes.

At the time I just resigned to him being a silly silly boy, but now I know better.

Yet, before we get ahead of ourselves, let’s explore who Mikey is.

Michelangelo Hamato is the youngest turtle in the family, and it shows.

Consequently, he seems to possess a certain “youngest brother privilege" that his other brothers just can’t help but reinforce. This is the role that Mikey was born into. Therefore, he doesn’t have to push himself to be the smartest, or cleverest, or strongest turtle.

Instead, he decides to be the artist of the family. He’s a creative! He expresses himself everywhere, from stickers on his own shell, to tagging the lair, as well as on paper. The world is his canvas!

Michelangelo also expresses himself in virtually everything he does, so it’s easy to understand why he’s the most open, honest, caring, and emotionally expressive turtle of the bunch. To some it could be seen as a weakness, yet Mikey uses his emotional intelligence as a pillar of strength, of which he utilizes to uphold his brothers when they need support the most.

In the show, Michelangelo often takes on certain personas; Doctor Feelings and Doctor Delicate Touch. (For some reason, they are all doctors, but that’s beside the point.)

At first glance, the personas could be seen as silly bouts of make-believe. But I think that placing these roles upon himself for his brothers' sake is Michelangelo’s way of helping them cope with the world by offering them what they each individually lack.

For instance, Raph, Leo, and Donnie have trouble voicing their discomforts when someone does something they don’t like.

In other words, they have trouble putting their foot down.

But here is Mikey to the rescue!

Dr. Delicate Touch has no such hang-ups.

Similarly, when Donatello runs into trouble, as he is unable to recognize his own emotions, it’s up to Doctor Feelings to help his desperate client in need.

Through taking on these roles, Mikey is able to support his brothers and fill the emotional gaps in his teammates, which, inevitably makes them all stronger.

How is Mikey able to do this and how does he have the strength to take on these roles?

You could think that it’s just in his character, meaning, it’s just how he is. I don’t think so, though. He’s a free thinker, and a creative, but there’s something about these roles that is specifically catered to the needs of his family.

Then I realized, the only reason that Mikey is able to help his brothers in this way is because they first helped him.

Let me explain.

All four of the boys grew up in the same household. Although Splinter tried his very best (there is no Splinter hate here), a single depressed parent doth not a stable child make. Raphael struggled with the burden of his responsibilities as an ad hoc leader (see Being Big Red), Leo struggled with expressing his natural talents as a middle child (see Being Baby Blue), all while Donnie struggled with carving out his place on the team and his feelings of uselessness (see Being Purple Part One and Part Two).

Well, what does Mikey struggle with?

In my humble opinion, nothing.

The struggles of his brothers all related to each turtle coming to terms with themselves and coming to terms with their place on the team.

Yet, due to the love and support of his brothers and father, Michelangelo never had to ask himself if he belonged, struggle with his role on the team, or make huge life-changing decisions that could affect everyone.

Michelangelo is free to just be Michelangelo.

And as a free spirit who is completely in tune with his own emotions, he is able to do things like this:

and this,

and this.

Let’s get back to the scene in the library.

Angelo sees the high stakes of his friend’s pet disappearing forever if they fail but makes the decision to disqualify himself anyway. Why? Because he knows that no matter what he does, it will all be ok.

He has complete faith in his brothers and their ability to solve the problem at hand, so he might as well have some fun.

This not the first time he’s come to this conclusion.

Through out this entire scene, Michelangelo plays in the background.

It’s scenes like this that makes me believe that Mikey’s faith in his family knows no bounds.

Altogether, his brothers and his father were everything he needed to become who he is. Reciprocally, he is free to be everything that they need him to be and more. Over…

and over,

and over again

he trusts them completely.

And through this unwavering trust in his family, he is able to trust himself and his instincts. He knows that with everything they’ve poured into him, he can save them from, well, everything. Over…

and over…

and over again.

Hence, due to all of this evidence, I believe that through the collective love of his family, Michelangelo became the best version of the Hamato spirit, and thus, the best Mystic Warrior of all time.

All because, he’s Orange, baby!

○○○○

Previous | Being Big Red • Being Baby Blue • Being Purple ○ Part One • Being Purple ○ Part Two

Finale | Being Hamato Yoshi

[understandableparadox]

a comprehensive list of everything wrong with hazbin hotel.

quick note before i lose myself in madness, my standards for helluvaboss are non existent because its a free show on youtube. also i kinda like helluvaboss and i will indulge in any bias i damn well please.

oh and spoilers. i guess.

the greater narrative of the entire season is "White lady civilize inner city hoodlum". ex: The blind side. rich girl, affluent family yadda yadda.

the story is set up to be like amphibia, owl house, svtfoe, steven universe, that being starting as something episodic then transforming into story driven narrative. why? because we know the benefits and drawbacks, episodic starts allows us to wander the world, it allows us to understand the dynamics, we are not forced to reckon with anything because there is no deadline. characters are allowed to bloom and shine and the audience can actually get attached.

the source material is Vary Clearly formed from remnants of something out of a middle school edgelord narrative. the usage of transformation, the big spooky grins, the "and then i smile as my eyes glow and-"-isms which in most cases i don't mind because in some instances but in a vary Particular case its astoundingly annoying and that annoyance is like a mold, shit spreads quick.

the color Red. as a lover of homestuck cherubs and karkat and aradia, as someone who fucking loves the color red, it is so painful to say but holy shit tone it the fuck down, i know its hell but their are so many other colors that you can use, its everywhere, the streets, the air, the windows, the screens, the characters, i know the pride ring is represented with red but change up the palates every so often for backgrounds

the rush, this ties into the second point made but i think the story itself is rushed. we know everything way to early. i know way to much and it makes it hard to care about anything because im still trying to digest the last chunk of info. "oh ok, so they clear out hell once a year. oh hell has a heaven embassy? ok. oh that adam the angel, i though he wou- oh its every 6 months now. wait the exterminators die a lot? then why is everyone sca- people in hell already have weapons that can kill angels? w- oh we are in heaven now, ok ma- no one in heaven except for the elites know the exterminations occur? how do-" and its that, just this incessant rush to explain everything to you. notably that's just the god damn spark notes, we need to know everything about the characters now, every single bit of their story, their insecurities, what charlie needs to fix, how she can fix them, the major bad guys, everything. you are never allowed to dwell on a character because we need to rush towards something else. it almost feels like this should have been like... season three, it would have been a fantastic season three if you dropped the introductions honestly.

the concept of redemption. for a story of redemption to work you need to look at three things. What is there crime, Do they want to change, What is preventing them from changeing? there is only one single character that has a notable path of redemption, angel dust, but if you look through their story it feels off. What Exactly is he guilty of? he has sex, does drugs and drinks. his apparent nymphomania is tied to his sad backstory as someone forced into the sex industry so how is that their fault? then if you think about it you start to spiral and notice "hey why are most of these people in hell?" like sure some of them may deserve punishment but then you see the fucking dichotomy and its like "I was a inventor in england and died of the fucking plague, i may have made evil little contraption hoohoohoo" vs "I was a cannibal, a full on cannibal, i fucking killed people and ate them and then someone shot me". ONE OF THESE THINGS ARE A LITTLE MORE FUCKING EXTREME. i'm going to go fucking nuts, the thing they went to heaven with when presenting a case to angels on the idea that redemption and becoming a better person is actually real was angel dust not drinking at a party and not having sex with consenting adults and i want to go fucking insane. WHAT IS THE CRIME, WHO IS THROWING THE BOOK, WHAT DOES THE BOOK INTEL, ARE WE ON GOOD PLACE RULES?! half the cast dont Need redemption they need fucking help, and the other half of the cast do need redemption but they do not seek it making the point moot. sir pentious acts like he has the brain of a hyper intelligent toddler tossing about toys, its almost like he did his one bad thing of spying and then got caught, sank his little diddy about forgiveness and second chances and become a null point through out the rest of the series, sure their was Some weight to him sacrificing himself, he was a decently funny character and he had good moments but him popping up in heaven felt like a fore gone conclusion, he didn't deserve to be in hell so why do i care that he is suddenly in heaven? because its working on the concept the good place already made. no one actually deserves eternal punishment they just need help processing what makes them a dick, but instead of looking at all the parts of the afterlife that make it bad, inefficient and then creating and trying ideas to see if it work instead over a few seasons, we crash dick first into all the major plot points in regards to that and say "tada, we fixed it.".

having a sub-plot about sexual assault and its victims then having multiple sexual assault related gag ruins your point.

don't make a bunch of stereotypically jewish characters into cannibals, that was a big thing, really shouldn't have to say it.

if you are going to make a character black, make them black, you can say alastor was black but sweet seren-fucking-dippity that's not a black man.

pot meet kettle but yeah the cursing could be a little less liberal. maybe just blue hair or the pronouns, not both.

there is a very distinctive art deco/jazz aesthetic which normally i love but i feel as though it is not used to its full extent and in some cases really hurts the character design in and of itself.

this is a vary obvious bit but the story is a million times more interested in gay men then it is of lesbians, which culminates in this insane thing where the writers clearly have more talent or perhaps it would be more abt to say practice writing male gay pining then they are with lesbian pining. which i personally think is hilarious because i did not know you could min max fujoshi-ism that hard.

this next section is more to do with each character on a fundamental level, for the sake of brevity whatever there is left, i'm just doing ones with speaking roles.

13. Charlie:

(see what i mean about that red thing?)

as originally stated charlie fits rather comfortably into every white saviour narrative, though that seems to be part of her joke. though i'm not entirely sure how much of a joke it can be when its rewarded and expected to advance the plot.

her character design says nothing, it has the motif of old puppets or dolls, she wears something vaguely similar to service suits, her demonic form is just some extra horns.not to say every character needs to have their life on a clothes rack but some more snake and goat imagery would be nice

its not the chol design of charlie with snake hair, not an actual problem but its a problem to me, damn you @cholvoq for ruining my ability to look at any of the characters without wishing i was seeing your designs instead.

character wise aside from the white savoir bit, i'm having a bit of trouble understanding what the arc of the character is. she is shown to be naive, someone who doesn't understand how the world works but everytime she says something its something astoundingly clear like "people can actually get better". and its treated like someone demanded faygo in every water fountain. is the joke that the world around her to cynical or is so to naive? please pick one or the other.

now if you know me, you know i fucking hate overpowered characters with a blinding passion, one that would set alit the god damn abyss but in this one special instance, i feel like its warranted, she's the direct descendant of fucking God, she can swing her weight around a little, i mean god damn. she in so many instances looks like shes cowering so often, why would the daughter of lucifer get backed down by some rando pimp? why wasn't she the one to fight adam? sure you can say she is young but how young? her parents were there since pre-abrahamic times, most of the characters showed up in hell in the 1900s, some of them showed up in the 1600s, how old is charlie??? how long does it take for her to learn how to be strong? The story does not suffer if charlie is strong and knows she is strong. it can easily be a case of "i don't believe in violence to a weird degree". fit it into her apparent naivety about the world to believe that violence is never the answer even when dealing with a being that is unilaterally horrible and abusive and monstrous.

she ga- no im kidding, i do think her romance was waysided a bit, it would have been fine to have more scenes of them togather and in love you know?

14. Vaggie

why did you name the lesbian vaggie...? Don't do that maybe?

I like how her design is almost moth like but again i feel as though you could have amped that up.

she feels as though someone tried to combine undyne and pearl from steven universe, same story beats and design elements. it makes it hard to really distinguish her as a character.

i honestly dont have much to say about her. she is fine.

christ kill me, lets just get the big one out of the way

15. Alastor.

God Damn

where to start.

"alastor is mixed race" mixed with fucking what? concrete? there is not a single black feature on that creature, now im not saying you have to make him a png of louie armstrong but it wouldn't hurt to add a curl to the hair maybe? make it a tiny bit more wavy? Something? a crumb i beg of thee?

his symbolism is all over the god damn place, native american monsters (you know the one), voodoo, radio, puppets, stitches, circuses??? and Tentacles i guess. two of those are from closed religions so if you dumped those you would actually get a more concise character focused on the concept of vox populi as a means of societal control and influence as we see in his first song. but again that gets drowned out repeatedly by all the other random toy box bits shoved into him.

tumblr sexy man bait

he serves no purpose in the story. he does spooky stuff, pretends to do things and then goes back to sitting around looking spooky. i understand that his motif is supposed to be aloof mastermind but maybe have him do more mastermindy things? if you remove most of alastors scenes, bar the songs, it doesn't change all to much. husk and nifity can still be at the hotel, they could be looking for outs in their contracts the same as angel dust. hell it even helps with the one scene where he dose some spooky shit, asking charlie for a favor in exchange for his help in the fight with the angels instead of asking him about angel weapons which should have remained a strictly vaggie scene.

his presence in a way delegitimize the story, as I noted in in the section regarding redemption, the three parts are "what is the crime, do they want to change, what is stopping them?" and alastor kinda just spits in the face of that. he is a serial killer cannibal that has no qualms about how evil he is and apparently must continue being evil due to being under the control under someone legitimately called the Root Of All Evil. show him take a slight interest in the idea that maybe shit for him could be better, make him Want Change at the bare fucking minimum or dont have him at the hotel.

his stupid little fucking horns, big shot the troll liker wants characters to have big fucking horns, make them noticeable or dont have them.

he looks more like a dog boy, which could have been an interesting thing with the collar motif but fuck me i guess.

personal pet peeve but i fucking hate characters that have a million plus powers, stick to a set number, be creative.

im getting more petty as i go on so last point: he could have been in less episodes, he didn't need to be in dad beat dad, that should have been just a lucifer and charlie episode. inverse the red and black and i think he would be fucking great color wise, his body type is the same as ten different characters, he isnt radio enough, aside from the voice and and staff if you told me he was the fucking Cat Demon i would have been just as convinced.

16. Angel Dust

what the fuck, gay spider? its hard to actully articulate all the thoughts i have on angel dust, not in the sense that he is a deeply thought provoking character but in the fact that there is not much meat on the bones.

all around i think angel dust is kinda middling. he has a decent enough romance with husk, he has a decent enough story line that revolves around battling addiction and removing yourself from an abuser (which the story tries to brand as "Redemption???")

I dont like that most of his jokes would qualify as sexual harassment, i don't mind him being sexual as a character but continuing on when clearly someone doesn't like the jokes hurts the character.

not a critique but he is pink, which honestly ill fucking take at point, as long as its not more fucking red.

i think his design is an improvement over some of the old vivzie designs but it feels like it could have done with going a few more rounds of design changes.

same thing with alastor, charlie and vaggie, there is not enough of the animal that they are supposed to be. You could have told me angel dust was a fucking bee or something and i would have had to believe you. nothing about angel dust initially says spider, hell he dosent even have enough limps to be a fucking spider.

17. Carmilla carmine

are... are you supposed to be a rabbit...?

Big Yoai Hands

ballet fighting style, could have been cool, wish she fought more like sanji or chun li.

A single mom that works to hard, who loves her kids and never stops-

her song was decent, not great, decent. it feels as though the actress has experience singing but not in the way they tried to make her sing during her two songs. they have a obvious mexican influence, honestly just let her sing in spanish in the english dub. go listen to the spanish dub, "out for love" sounds great in spanish.

i wish i had more thoughts on them, fucking rip.

18. cherri bomb

that's not a punk aesthetic that's 2010s alt

decent character, they showed up once or twice i guess, no real thoughts.

19. egg boiz

absolutely perfect, i have not notes on them, these are perfect creatures.

20. Emily

im so fucking happy to see a singular blue character

does the naive dreamer bit better then charlie

We really shouldnt have seen her until the end of season two or middle of three.

good contrast with the other angels on screen.

Wait she is supposed to be black??? Where???

21. Husk

keith david you absolute delight, Why on gods green earth did they only give you one singing part?

one of the few charecters where its clear husk is a cat, i do like the kinda... marquee design, he is a magic cat, thats neat. i still think you can toss the wings and eyebrows and still have just as good of a charecter.

has a deeply intresting story of someone who died as a nobody, became the fat cat of hell and then was forced back to the bottom by their own vices, not used at fucking all.

huge potential, little pay off.

22. lillith

I know nothing about her except she ditched her kid and husband to vacation in heaven and i think thats kinda funny.

alot of werid things floating around her, again she shouldnt have been shown in the show at all until next season.

23. lucifer morningstar

no notes, funniest charecter, did a song based on friend like me.

few notes: i do like the idea that the immortal symbol of pride is a constant emotional wreckage constantly seeking approval through grand showmanship and manic energy that threatens to take over anything they touch.

would have liked more snake stuff on him, maybe some more goat things like horns.

that is such a stupid fucking staff lmao.

24. Adam.

alex brightman you absolute fucking delight, you should have had more songs.

I wish his design was more focused on the idea of him being a glam rock wash up

I fucking hate his mask

We shouldn't have met him until the end of the season.

25. Niffty

again she is supposed to be a bug or cockroach but nothing about her points to that.

token straight

keeps rocketing back and fourth between sexulization and infantilization

you had kimiko glenn but didnt give her a single fucking song?

26. Sir Pentious

the secret season one redeemed.

the pilot version of him felt more like someone that could do a season one redemption arc, a megalomaniac constantly attempting territory grabs, there is something you can work with, actual character flaws to work through.

essentially a child after the first episode.

actually a snake which i appreciate.

no where near steampunky enough.

27. the villians of the show dont make much sense, each one feels like they should be season long deals on their own instead of a bunch of team rocket esque idiots that show up on occasion, do a bad thing and then leave.

28. Valentino

gOD THERE IS SO MUCH RED

only a moth some of the time.

sucks as a villain, maybe they need more screen time to show why they suck in a more substantial way aside from being told that he sucks.

it is interesting that angel dust is only under his magical control when in the studio, it shows that angel dust has to make a conscious choice to return, which in turn can be made to show how abusers can draw back their victims. I do not think it was done well in this circumstance as it shows him to be cartoonishly evil, constantly flying back and fourth between sweet and utter psycho, there is no actual reason for angel dust to ever actually go back to the studio, he just does so every so often.

29. Vox

legit who cares? the only thing about him that is in any way substantial is all the dope ass fan art we get.

propaganda machine angle that is not explored at all, just hinted at. no actual barring on the story whatsoever.

why didn't he try to do the same shit as alastor by the way? he knows its bad if alastor gets in good with charlie so shouldn't it be a ass kissing race?

same body shape as literally every other male character.

tumblr sexy man version of pyrocynicals fursona.

30. Valvette

the actual poster child of the shows huge problem of "Show me, don't tell me".

apparently the glue that holds the villains together. never shown.

apparently the one that makes the love potions that valentino is famous for. had to learn about that in the fuckin wiki trivias

we know so much about her from things outside of the show.

was there to call carmilla a coward, that's her plot contribution. she shows up every now and again but its never anything substantial and serves to more around take up run time for people We Don't Need To Know Yet.

im not trying to be mean, animation is animation, we need smaller studios to have success in the industry so that other indie studios can have that success, felling a tree makes it easier for others to follow. showing that its possible to number brain rot exacs helps all animators.

but this show has so much bullshit attached to it, it has so much fucking potential that it fries my brain with unyielding frustration.

this took a bit to write, im tired, thanks for reading.

[bolognamayhem117]

Hot Take: Astarion does NOT hate flowers. You just missed a few subtle hints through Act 1 and early Act 3.

Astarion's negativity is directed toward just about anything remotely pleasant as you move through early act three, starting the moment you leave Wyrm's Rock. First thing after Gortash's coronation he marvels near tears at the colors of the city in daylight. If you ask if he's alright, it pisses him off.

There's other instances I can't quite remember but he's a straight crank throughout early Act 3 and it took me several hours of gameplay to have a lightbulb moment about his newly crappier attitude.

He just spent the last two hundred years seeing everything in the overwhelmingly warm dim tones of indoor lighting via sconces, rushlights, and braziers, or the dingy blue gray of moonlight outside. Daylight colors are something he had more than a lifetime to forget and now that he has a chance to remember that vibrancy in his own home town, he knows he's going to have to forget it all over again either by death or by remaining a vampire spawn forever. The worm isn't going to live rent free in his head forever, and killing Cazador to ascend in his place likely feels like an insurmountable and impossible fight against a literal titan who could stomp him flat without a corm of effort.

He doesn't hate flowers, he hates EVERYTHING right now because it's all going away very soon and if he convinces himself he hates everything then he won't miss it when it's all gone again. He was denied this for two hundred years and he's PISSED at what was stolen from him and PISSED it's all going away again.

He behaved similarly in Act 1 about anyone besides him enjoying physical intimacy. Some of this content was cut, to my best knowledge, but the overwhelming majority of his dialog addressing the PC romancing anyone but him are negative or backhanded. This is for two reasons, I think. A: his Simple Plan just dissolved right before his eyes when you chose someone else which in his mind means he has zero safety net, and EVERYONE gets to enjoy sex (key wording being ENJOY, not simply having) except him... And it pisses him off.

He also gleefully interrupts the bug bear and the ogress, I think for the same reason as the above paragraph, being: If he doesn't get to enjoy intimacy neither do they.

He reacts with anger and disgust at anything he's being unfairly denied. Which... That's fair. His feelings are valid, but his reaction to it is pretty shitty and meanspirited.

The other companions I tend to keep in my party, (that is Lae'zel, Halsin, Karlach, and Wyll) however, are actually appearing to behave pretty patiently with him in Act 3 which I find interesting.

In the instance with the flowers Karlach doesn't bother trying to convince him otherwise of his opinion, she just tells him how they make her feel instead and rather than getting snippy or doubling down he more or less agrees to disagree. I also don't recall anyone disagreeing with Astarion during Gale's last quest tasks when he mentioned that he quit praying to gods who wouldn't hear him a long time ago but to be fair, I think the gods did everybody in this crew dirty and they all know it. It seems like they're consciously giving him the space to be mad about things, is what I'm saying.

Everyone I know including myself who crawled out of a long-term hot garbage situation kinda went wild for a bit with freedom, spoke poorly, behaved strangely, had extreme emotional reactions to things, and made some particularly terrible choices. I think that's just a part of recalibrating yourself, healing and learning how to be okay again.

Point is, I wouldn't conflate too many of the turbo-negative things he says with how he actually feels about anything. We certainly know what he says and what he feels are two very different things.

[missmugiwara]

A Secret

Summary: gn!reader x Luffy // What happens when you tell the captain a secret? Turns out, it makes him really happy! And he only wants more.

Warning: 18+, suggestive, very flirty, did I make Luffy a slight dom?

Note: I think one of my favorite things about writing for Luffy is that it's kind of hard. But he's my sweetie pie so I'm not complaining.

✦ Word count is 2.2k ✦

Luffy's strength was no secret.

Everyone knew that. It was also no secret that he always got stronger. Sometimes, it seemed like the Straw Hat Pirates were always moving from one adventure to the next, never taking a break. So how did Luffy have the time between fights to find new moves and new gears to try?

Maybe he didn't do it as much as Zoro, but there were instances where you caught the captain training. Sometimes it was on boring days like today where you happened to be parked at some random island for Franky to do routine maintenance to the Sunny.

Luffy's breath was heavy, mouth wide open to release hot pants. His red ruffle-sleeved shirt and yellow sash were chucked off to the side, bunched in a sloppy pile on the ground with his precious straw hat gingerly laid on top. His scarred chest heaved with each breath he took, muscles tensing deliciously. A thin layer of sweat covered his entire body, forming delicate beads of moisture to glisten in the sun. His hair splayed across his forehead and around his face in cute, damp waves from the moisture. It was certainly a sight to behold. The captain was positively mouthwatering, and only one thing crossed your mind at that moment.

You loved him so much.

It was always so hard to take your eyes off him. With feet crunching against the grass, you walked up some distance behind him and just silently admired. A tender smile etched its way onto your lips, and you sighed longingly at Luffy. He had one fist pulled back, while his other free hand - palm outstretched, thumb pointed downward - took aim at the air, and he punched. He repeated this move again and again, grunting and panting the entire time. As he continued with that focused, steady gaze in his eyes. As beads of sweat flew off his body.

He was so strong.

Did anyone ever tell him he looked so good?

A warm heat feathered over your cheeks, and your eyes perked up at the thought. And so, feeling rather bold, you snickered and took a step forward. You almost changed your mind. Then, using every ounce of courage, you merrily called after him.

"Luffy!"

The rubber man turned lazily to the call of his name. With an open-mouth releasing more pants, he tiredly smiled. And then his gaze grew more excited when he registered it was you of all people who called with such adoration. You, who was running toward him. You, who he could never get mad at. You, who lit up with joy every moment you saw him.

The sweetest face he had ever seen, and all his. Well, you were your own person - he didn't own you, and he knew that. But you were his. Somehow. His crewmate. His friend. His… something.

One day, he would gladly say the words: you're so much more to him. That much he knew, but what word could he use? Luffy always knew how to get right to the heart of things that needed saying most - but not today. Seeing your smile was enough, and there was way too much on his mind regarding everyone's safety in Wano.

"Do you wanna know a secret?" you grinned.

A secret? And just for his ears only? He already felt special enough with that smile you gave him. Nobody else ever got that smile.

You slowed to a stop when you collided into his back, pressing your chest to him. You didn't give him a chance to answer when you wrapped one arm around him, gently slapping your hand to his chest. The sweat upon him sticking you to him, and you did not care in the slightest how much it made your shirt wet. With the other free hand, you cupped it to his ear.

"Hey, did you know…" and you whispered into his ear, lips brushing against the shell of it as Luffy's eyes slowly widened.

The words were nearly lost in the breeze.

A red blush dusted over his cheeks, and his lips parted in response. Before he could turn and ask if you reeeally meant what you just said, you giggled and peeled yourself from him. You stepped back, hands clasped innocently behind your back and grinning so much that your eyes clamped shut.

"Huh? Really?" Luffy asked in disbelief.

"Oh, yes!" you nodded your head erratically.

Luffy still stared in shock, and you still smiled. There was a pause before the captain blinked at you, then smirked. He stood a bit taller and a bit prouder, puffing out his chest. He turned back but to a tree this time, taking his usual fighting stance. His fist flew back, and then forward as he launched it into the tree - completely breaking it in two as it fell to the ground with a loud thud. A few of your friends looked up in worry at the loud noise, then disregarded it once they realized it was just Luffy being Luffy. You beamed widely as ever, before giving a wave and returning to your spot next to Robin. She was seated underneath an umbrella and sipping tea.

She smiled and poured a cup for you. Trying not to come off as pyring, she asked, "What did you tell Luffy to put him in such a good mood?"

You grabbed the cup of tea and smiled profusely. She wouldn't dare tease you like the others if you answered honestly. Robin could be told things you could not tell others. And she knew you liked the captain very much so.

"I just told him… well, I said: hey, did you know that you're really sexy?"

Robin seemed surprised at the unexpectedly brazen comment. She was looking down at her cup, then her blue eyes immediately darted to meet yours. You said that to Luffy? A pause before she grinned.

"Oh? Is that so? I'm happy for you."

And Luffy seemed pretty happy about it too.

It was a major risk you took that day, but since then you were smitten even moreso because he responded in such a… pleasant way. So Luffy was the kind of person who understood sex appeal. It was settled then - you wanted to flirt more. You wanted to be more vocal about how you felt. To drop more hints, as ironic as it was because Luffy didn't need subtlety; he needed blunt words. However, the rising butterflies in your stomach told you that testing the waters was further needed. It was really just an excuse to cover up a rising bout of shyness.

It seemed he was not as naïve as his crewmates thought, and he truly understood this game. And really, how did anyone not notice how attractive he was? Zoro and Sanji got attention all the time, but what about the captain? The star of the crew? He was certainly charming in his own ways. And so this game of yours did not let up anytime soon.

"Who's that good-looking guy in the straw hat?"

You waved at him, calling out with a hand cupped to your mouth. Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji walked toward the ship after being in town to buy supplies. Each of them had sacks of food tied to their backs, and Luffy broke out into a huge ear-to-ear smile. He laughed, a blush ever-present at his face. Zoro rolled his eyes, and Sanji's smile faded when he realized - oh, you were speaking to the captain, not him.

"Me? Oh, stop!" and Luffy would blush and blush, identical to the way he blushed when any of his crewmates said he was strong or reliable. The sight was too cute not to eat up. At least he was getting it now, because the first time you said that Luffy whipped his head around. With squinted eyes, he kept asking who was this guy until you bursted out laughing. This was really funny because it was so cute and so like him to do that.

"What a man."

You would purr so lowly when he passed by, especially if he had just defended the weak and beat someone up - panting, sweaty, delicious as usual. Boy, was being in Wano such a treat. Luffy's ears would prick at the sound of your honeyed tone, and sometimes they turned red. He would quickly turn to meet your lidded gaze, your eyes wandering up and down his shirtless self - and the blush would return to his face. He would break out into a loud laugh after he processed the words you graced him with.

The flirting was fun, truly. Yet sometimes you wondered if anything more would happen after all the effort. It had to, right?

What were you even waiting for?

Such questions did not cross your mind at this particular moment though. As usual, Robin and you were passing the time once again while the Sunny sailed off to another adventure. The topic of conversation was another good book you both had read in your little two-person bookclub. Luffy walked by, a tiny smirk at his lips, as you and Robin laughed about something silly in the last chapter.

Luffy froze once he got past far enough. Something was off. Quickly, he whipped his head around to furrow his brows in frustration. He pointed his gaze at you… and pouted. A cute grumble escaped his lips, and with his fists balled to his sides and arms swaying, he tromped right over.

Between the fits of laughter and conversing, you didn't even hear Luffy's feet crunch in the grass behind you - picking up speed. And what really took you by surprise was when one of Luffy's rubbery hands suddenly grasped your jaw between his thumb and fingers, and he turned your face so you could see him. It went without saying that the laughter immediately stopped, and you and the archaelogist froze in place.

You blinked once. Luffy just held your face, not enough to hurt you because he would never, as you two locked gazes. His breath felt hot on your lips. In turn, your own breath was caught in your chest as your face ignited into flustered heat because - well, because he never held you like this and at such closeness too. Something must have been troubling him.

"What's… what's wrong, captain?"

Oh, you were right about something being wrong. Luffy cocked his head to the side in an attempt to deepen his focus. He was really studying your face, and it only got warmer the more he stared.

"You didn't say anything!" he whined.

Another blink or two from you, and Luffy's grip loosened on your face.

"Loofs, I really have no idea what you're talking about."

"You didn't say anything… you know - fun and nice. To me. Like you always do."

Another moment for you to process, and the lightbulb went off in your head. Ohhh! He wanted another - oh, yes. You almost wanted to laugh because apparently it was really that much of a habit by now.

How dare you forget to take care of your precious captain?

With face still in his hand, your eyes darted off to the side. For the third time, your cheeks went even hotter. And you didn't know why this bout of shyness ran over you all of a sudden. Perhaps it was because you were the one always catching him off guard, flustering him so deeply. Not the other way around. So you took a second to think, but you hadn't planned anything yet for that day. So in a small voice, you answered him quickly, truthfully, and without much thought.

"Hottie."

You nearly moaned under your breath. The blush dusting over his rubbery cheeks and the wide smile he bore was enough to let you know he was satisfied. Robin sat in awe (you two completely forgot she was still there) but then brought a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggle.

And Luffy grinned.

"Keep talking like that. I like it!"

Oh, the way he looked at you made your heart thrum in your chest. The way he held your face, making you lock eyes. Gently, he released your frazzled self. Your jaw dropped into a suprised, open-mouthed smile. Trying to ignore the fact that Luffy said he liked it, you diverted your attention to the first part of his somewhat confession.

"Oh, you think you can boss me around like that, huh?" You smirked, taking a playful tone to let him know you were joking.

Luffy was walking away, but he paused midstep. He turned his head to peek over his shoulder, his bright eyes staring directly into your soul. The wind blew to ruffle his jet black hair and the brim of his beloved straw hat before his eyes grew lidded.

"Of course! I'm the captain here. Besides… you looove doing what I say. You always do, and you never refuse."

With that, he walked off.

And there you sat, flustered to oblivion as you brought a hand to to cover your growing smile. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Robin wink.

[thestarkinternship]

Crossing the Line

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader: One Shot (Smut)

Summary: Your ex boyfriend Bucky gets a little jealous after seeing you with a new guy, what lengths will he go to to get you back?

Word Count: 3k (no mention of Y/N)

Warnings: Drinking, profanity, jealous!Bucky, posessive!Bucky, stalking, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (public space), choking, slight dubcon. 18+, MINORS DNI

A/N: I kinda let my imagination run a little crazy in certain parts of this (and I'm not sorry). One day they’ll actually be in a bed but today is not that day.

-

The dive bar downtown Bucky had followed you to wasn't a pleasant one. It was dark and cramped, the sweaty air as sticky as the alcohol soaked floor. There were too many people in here brushing up against him whilst he stalked through the dimly lit room. Bucky shuddered, recoiling away from the brief touches as he passed by the drunk party goers. Loud music blared out of the cheap speakers, crackling as they struggled to support the rhythmic thumping from the heavy bass. The metal of his arm vibrated slightly, setting off a tingling sensation from the joint at his shoulder all the way down to his fingertip. Making his way to the bar, he wrapped his hand around a cold glass and tried to ignore the feeling. The smooth liquor slipped past his lips, but had little effect on his increasing nerves. Bucky was looking for you, and he wasn't going to relax until you were found.

Of course, he had no right to know where you were. The two of you had been broken up for a couple months now, after all. You were free to do whatever you wanted. But that didn't mean Bucky had to like it. Earlier that evening, he'd overheard you telling Steve all about a club downtown and how excited you were to go. He'd been wary at the time - you'd never been one to want to spend the night getting drunk with random strangers until you couldn't stand. Maybe he didn't know you as well as he thought he did. But the longer he stayed there, his suit collecting god knows how many diseases from leaning against the grimy bar, Bucky couldn't help the way his nose wrinkled a little in disgust. He was now certain his sweet girl didn't belong in a place like this.

As he sipped his way through the glass, and then another, Bucky started to wonder if he'd come to the right bar after all.

Setting his empty glass down, the shiny crystal a stark contrast to the dark wood, Bucky was about to give up when he heard the sound of your high pitched laughter in the distance. His body twitched at the familiar sound. It was like all of his fears were calmed in that instance. Scanning the room, he allowed his enhanced hearing to do the rest of the work, filtering through all of the background chatter until he could pin point your exact location. As he craned his neck, Bucky could just about see you by the edge of the dancefloor. And much to his surprise, you weren't alone.

Perched on a bar stool, you were breaking his heart in a stunning crimson dress. It clung to every inch of your curves. The silky material dipped at the swell of your breasts as your chest moved with your laughter. As you crossed one long leg over the other, the short fabric slipped up your thighs, exposing a lot more of yourself to Bucky than he'd seen in a while. His eyes raked over your body, imagining what he'd do if you'd come here together. Maybe his hand would be on your thigh, daring to trail underneath your dress, whilst his lips pressed soft kisses just below your ear in the way that only he knew you liked. Bucky would beg you to let him take you back to the compound, his gentle touch on your body the entire cab ride home as he teased you about what was to come.

But Bucky was pulled from his thoughts as he noticed you toying with some older guy. Delicate fingers twirled in the stranger's tie, you pulled him close enough to whisper in his ear. His hand grazed the supple skin of your thigh where Bucky's should've been. Even in the fluorescent lighting, Bucky could see the unmistakeable blush that crossed his face at your sinful murmurs. Bucky's jaw tightened. With all of the commotion, not even his super hearing could distinguish your hushed whispers. And he didn't like that one bit.

Jealously spurred on inside of him, curling like fire in the pit of Bucky's stomach. He was struggling to restrain himself from going over there right now and crushing the guy's skull for even breathing near you. At war with himself, Bucky hovered closer as you continued to flirt. A few minutes later, his eyes widened slightly as he saw the two of you step away. Your desperate tugging on the guys shirt for him to follow you towards the exit triggered a raging snap inside of Bucky.

Reaching for his empty glass, he crushed the fragile crystal in anger with just a slight clench of his metal hand. The shattered remains of it fell to the ground as he began to follow your trail. Oh, you'd done it now.

As he stormed after you, Bucky's body was shaking. He needed you. The noise of the city streets became a blur as all Bucky could focus on was echoes of your name inside his mind. His stomach dropped as he watched you turn off the corner into a nearby alley. Pushing his body to catch up to you, he was finally close enough to hear the unmistakeable heavy breathing.

Bucky's boots scuffed against the tarmac as he came to a dead stop at the sight that awaited him. His eyes narrowed at the scene of you pushed up against a brick wall, a thigh hitched up around this stranger's waist, hands tangling in his hair. Your eyes were squeezed shut as you threw your head back carelessly to let out a soft moan. And the worst part of it all? You seemed to be enjoying the way this stranger was practically mauling you.

He closed in on you as you were blissfully unaware of his presence until you saw a large arm grip the shoulder of your date. Bucky tore him away from you, and the man fell to the ground under Bucky's strength. Your shoulder's jumped slightly as you pressed yourself flat against the alley wall in an overwhelming mixture of surprise and fear. Bucky's hand snaked up the back of the man's head before pulling it back.

"You know who I am, right?" Bucky hissed and the man nodded, "good. You touch her again, and I'll kill you."

Bucky let go of him with a hard shove, watching him slump forwards on the gritty floor. There was enough malice in his tone for your date to make the smart decision not to answer back. He scrambled to his feet as he recovered from the ambush. Your date took one last look back at you. He saw the emotion in your eyes, and whilst he pitied you, nothing could make him stay. Turning on the heel of his shoe, he sprinted out of the alley, putting as much distance between himself and The Winter Soldier as possible. All alone now, you had no choice but to face your ex boyfriend.

You stayed quiet, your shoulders moving fast with rapid breaths with the adrenaline of this whole thing.

"Him? Really?" Bucky gestured in the direction of the fleeing man, "I mean, come on, doll. You deserve someone who would at least fight for you, not leave you all alone in an abandoned alleyway."

"What, like you? Is this you fighting for me?" You sneered. It wasn't the smartest choice you'd ever made, but the sarcasm in your voice was even harder to control than Bucky and his jealously. "How did you even know I was here? Did you follow me?"

His silence was all the confirmation that you needed, and you scoffed.

"You've really crossed the line. What are you doing here, James?" You sighed quietly.

"I'm done pretending that I don't still love you. That I don't crave being around you. That I haven't missed being around you every second for the last two months." Bucky whispered, taking a step towards you. He leaned in close, your faces inches apart. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips traced your warm cheek.

You shivered under the familiarity of it, and your voice trembled slightly. "Don't do that, we're not together anymore. You can't…"

He hummed slightly as his eyes glazed over you for the longest time. His touch lingered on your skin, trailing down. You shivered under the cool sensation of the cold vibranium as it prickled goosebumps along your flushed body. Inside your chest, our heart pounded. Bucky's face lit up in the dark at the reaction he managed to elicit from you. He still had an effect on you, whether you wanted to admit it to him or not. Luckily for you, you didn't have to.

"Tell me he made you feel this way, and I'll stop." Bucky whispered.

Your lips parted, your brain begging for the words to come out. But you couldn't help but fall short. What you wanted was to push him away from you, tell him he was being ridiculous and that you had always hated this jealous side of him. But the way he stared at you, ready to devour you at a moment's notice, had you feeling more turned on than you had ever been before. The dark look in his eyes said that he wanted to ravish you, make you forget all about the random guy you had picked up in the bar. And the worst part of it all was, you were willing to let him. You swallowed nervously at the realisation that you still belonged to him, you always had.

"Can't do it, can you?"

Bracing the wall with his good arm, he let his other continue its journey down your body. As he reached the soft spot where your neck met your collarbone, his hand spread out. Gripping lightly, he pulled your head away from the wall to meet him. Bucky's lips were soft, and you found yourself slipping back into the memory of a thousand past kisses. He knew the perfect balance of how much to tease and how much to give back. Tugging your bottom lip between his, he caused soft moans just to silence them again soon after with the addition of his tongue.

Letting go of your throat, he reached for your hip instead. Bucky brushed against the top of your thigh, and you felt a dangerous sensation deep inside your body. You wanted him and this much more than you were letting on. As he daringly ventured underneath your dress, he was so close to finding that out for himself.

Bucky stopped just shy of your dampened panties, and he tore his lips away from yours. A desperate whine slipped from your lips as your brows furrowed. "Bucky…"

"What's the matter?" He smirked, keeping his hand ever so still, just out of reach of where you wanted it to be.

"I…" Your heavy breathing faltered.

Chuckling, he shifted his hand from the wall and brought it to your chin. Tilting your face up to look at him, you caught the dark look in his eye. "Say it, sweetheart. Tell me what you want, and I'll happily give it to you."

"Bucky." Your voice was hoarse. You didn't want to give in to him, much less say outright how much you craved what only he could give you.

His smirk grew and he leaned in to your ear. "Not gonna tell me? Okay, let me take a wild guess. You want me to take you right here, don't you princess? I can feel how wet you are already just from the thought of it. And I don't even have to touch you to know that, I can feel you dripping down your thigh onto my hand. That how turned on you are? Just the thought of how good I can make you feel got you weeping a goddamn river all over my fingers. Think of how much of a mess you're gonna make when you're wrapped around my cock, princess."

It was exactly what you wanted. No matter how long you'd spent apart, Bucky still knew exactly he had to say to reduce you into a shaking, desperate mess in front of him.

Pulling his hand out from under your dress, you frowned until you saw it go to his own waist, unzipping his jeans. He lowered the waistband of his pants just enough to reveal how bulging you had him in his tight boxers. You bit your lip, looking him up and down. The quick flash of his toned stomach as his shirt rode up. The way you could practically see him throbbing as the cotton restrained him. Whilst you were distracted, he hoisted you off your feet.

Gasping, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist as he braced your back against the brick wall. The jagged edge grazed your skin slightly, and you winced at the pain. The pain subsided as Bucky kissed your exposed shoulder, letting the thin strap of your dress fall down your arm.

"What? You thought I was gonna go easy on you? Tease you with my fingers until you were nice and warmed up to take all of me? Oh no, that's not how this is going to work. Not after the little show you put on for me tonight. You want me to fuck you, so that's exactly what you're going to get. And I know you're plenty wet enough already, so now we're going to put it to good use."

With his palm supporting your lower back, he inched your body down onto his waiting cock. Gravity on his side, your body was forced to accommodate his length as he filled you with little warning. Tight around him, your walls throbbed at the sudden intrusion that pushed you from pain to pleasure. Your jaw fell slack and a cry escaped at the stretching feeling. Bucky's hand clamped hard over your mouth, muffling your sweet sounds. Your head pushed back against the wall as he held you there and kept you quiet.

"Stay quiet for me, doll. Can't let anyone find us here like this. Not when you're being such a good girl for me. Wouldn't wanna have to stop now, would we?" Bucky murmured, his voice heavy with laboured breaths.

You shook your head against his palm, feeling your hot pants flush back against your rosy cheeks as he kept it there. "N- no…"

Even though your reply was muffled, Bucky understood perfectly. Smirking, he gently slid his hand away from your lips and cupped your cheek, leaning in to kiss you. The sweet peck was enough to confirm that Bucky still very much cared about you, even if he was fucking you like he didn't. He pulled out slowly, revelling in the way your needy cunt gripped him. Bucky groaned through gentle thrusts, his eyes shutting as you sucked him back in. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, muttering depraved nonsense as he rutted up into you.

"Shit, doll. Still as fucking tight as I remember. Swear, I'm never letting go of you again. Wanna be inside of you forever."

Your kisses turned messy, as your shared desperation for each other grew. Promises of being quiet were long forgotten as you pushed one another to release. Bucky's fingers dug into your hips as he brought you down harder onto his cock, meeting you halfway with sharp thrusts. Your hands ran up and down his back, grasping at his t shirt and scrunching it up tight in between your fingers as you hurtled towards the edge. Bucky's own body tensed as he felt you twitch.

"Keep that up and I'm gonna come in you right now." Bucky panted, not showing any signs of slowing down.

You whimpered in response, your bottom lip quivering.

"Is that what you want, huh?" he murmured, "want me to fill you right here and leave with my come spilling down your thighs?

You babbled incoherently as you struggled to get a straight answer out.

"Gonna need to hear you say it, doll." Bucky taunted with a smirk, bringing his hand down to rub slow circles on your clit.

You gasped. "Yes, that's what I want. Please."

He chuckled darkly, before adding more pressure to that bundle of nerves between your legs, bumping over his cock as it disappeared inside of you with relentless thrusts. Your thighs squeezed his waist as the knot in your lower stomach tightened. Heart pounding and head dizzying, his fast pace and quick fingers sent you flying over the edge. Your vision blurred and faded in and out of darkness at the blinding pleasure that only he could bring you.

Bucky fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own. Not a minute later, you felt the pulsing of his cock inside of you as he spilled inside of you. The sensation of his come reaching deep caused you to tremble, and your body fell slack between the wall and him. He stepped closer, cradling your shaky body. As the two of you caught your breath, he gently set you back down on your feet whilst still keeping you close for support. You shuddered as his warm come trickled down your inner thigh and came into contact with the cool night's air. His thumb hooked the hem of your dress, pulling it back down before giving you a soft kiss.

When he finally pulled away, the anger in his expression was long gone and all that remained was the sweet side of him you hadn't seen since long before your breakup.

"I meant what I said, you know?" he mumbled, swiping a thumb across your pink lips, "letting you walk away from me was the biggest mistake I've ever made."

Looking up at him, you felt a warmth spread in your chest. In that moment, you couldn't remember why you left him either. You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before whispering, "don't let it happen again."

[acrosstheujiverse]

dynamics of an introverted couple

【🔎】 description: scenarios you have with your introverted boyfriend, woozi, as an introvert yourself. 【🖇️】 pairing: introvert!woozi x introvert!reader. 【💿】 genre: FLUFF!! 【🧺】 tags: butterflies in your stomach, x1000 cute.

📬 — author’s note！my first official post! haha. it MAY take a while for me to actually have the courage and confidence to post my aus, but i hope you will be patient with me ^-^

thank you ♡ enjoy reading this.

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your love story wouldn’t be one of love at first sight. no. instead, it would go under the slow-burn genre of romance. a friends-to-lovers slow burn.

in the few instances where jihoon would be outside and hang out with his small circle of close friends, he would be introduced to you. by courtesy of seungcheol.

you and jihoon’s first meeting was somewhat formal, with a few jokes and questions to break the ice, courtesy of soonyoung. it would take the two of you more hangout sessions to actually feel comfortable in each other’s presence.

jihoon would be the first to fall; he wouldn’t admit it to you, but he started to be interested with everything you said, and he would care about you. more than in a friendly way.

when hit with the growing feeling of being in love with you, jihoon would try to keep it to himself. he would be too shy to confess his feelings.

as the two of you walked after having finished yet another hangout session with your friends, you would be the one who confessed to him. in the many hangouts you had, you knew jihoon already; he was not the type to actually express his feelings. he wouldn’t be the one confessing, and he wouldn’t have the courage to actually risk your friendship.

you and jihoon wouldn’t have many fights.

when you two DO have fights, it’s because of a lack of communication. you suppress your feelings, whereas jihoon expresses himself with harsh words, pushing people away and isolating himself in his studio. (it’s due to his hectic work schedule and lack of sleep that he struggles to manage his stress.)

you both learned the hard way why communication—communicating your feelings—is an important part of any relationship.

both of you have slowly become vulnerable to each other. through face-to-face conversations or through text, whichever makes you both comfortable.

“not everyone is comfortable talking about their emotions and vulnerabilities, and that’s okay. but please don’t push people out without first telling them how you feel about the topic (that you’re uncomfortable and would like to not talk about it). if they’re truly concerned about you, they would understand the boundary you just put up and drop the topic.”

this relationship would be LOWKEY—i mean on the down DOWN-low. to the point where the only time you publicly show your guy’s relationship would be after like 5+ years of dating. (it’s THAT lowkey.)

it wouldn’t be surprising to many if you both decided to announce your relationship once you were both engaged.

even though he doesn’t have that much dating experience… jihoon would be the romantic type. he doesn’t show it, but he has seen different types of media—from shows to animes—to KNOW how to be romantic towards his partner. he wouldn’t be the over-the-top kind of romantic, but he would surprise you in the simplest but sweetest of ways. like randomly giving you flowers (if you’re allergic, it’s fake flowers) out of nowhere just because he felt like it, or (leaning to something more of his forte) dedicating a song he’s been writing to you—a melodic and nostalgic feeling to it.

for you and jihoon, it’s the little things that count. simple but never boring.

both you and jihoon liked the privacy and intimacy of your relationship.

you two are liberated from the social convention of broadcasting your guy’s relationship to the public. you two can be in love without the prying eyes of the public.

sleeping in on weekends would be the norm for both of you because you’re both sleep-deprived.

groggily waking up to sight of jihoon’s cute sleeping face, you honestly can’t be more grateful for his existence and presence in your life.

you can’t help but lightly pinch at the sight of jihoon’s squishy cheeks. he would slowly and slightly open his eyes, his nose scrunching from the sensation. he gives you a lazy smile and a soft peck at the tip of your nose.

“g’morning love.”

[it was in fact the afternoon, but who could correct this fatigued guy?]

although your love for each other may not be as obvious as most relationships are, it is the kind of love that you’re glad to be going home to.

a quiet love that speaks languages that only you two understand.

— fin.

[inkyajax]

compulsive consumption

character: sunday warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, fem reader, messy sleepy sex, dubcon at the start (somnophilia), extremely codependent relationship, a hint of a daddy kink, size kink/size difference, a lil bit of blood, overstimulation, creampie words: 2.3k

notes: maisie said exhausted almost asleep sex with sunday and somehow, this is what transpired

It’s become a ritual at this point; something special, something sacred, a ceremony you ardently anticipate each and every night, a sumptuous way to conclude the day and enter into sleep.

Because Sunday’s work day is long, tiring and tedious, and too often are there instances where you don’t see him at all—not a flash of silver-blue hair, nor a glimpse of ivory feathers—during your waking hours. 

But he always comes back to you in the deep of night, after the moon as passed its highest point in the sky, after you’ve slipped into a fitful dreamland, incomplete without its master. 

This you can be sure of. This you can expect eternally, always. 

He’s dead on his feet by the time he returns to the sanctuary of your shared bed, linen steeped in your scent, engulfing him in a sweet embrace the moment he burrows between the sheets. 

But it’ll never compare to the real thing. 

Large hands snake through the fabric, navigating it expertly, as they’ve done every single night before, as they’ll do every single night after. 

You’re wearing one of those lace-trimmed silk babydolls that he loves so much, shimmery material pooling around his wrists in bunched waves as eager palms slip beneath the garment. Lithe fingers curl around your hips, nails nipping the skin in a way that’s almost tender, embedding themselves in your flesh as Sunday anchors a good grasp. 

No panties—good girl.

Then he’s tugging you toward him, your limp body obeying easily, a soft noise vibrating deep in your throat. Little hands grope instinctually at the air, clawing at nothing in search for him, before you roll toward his heat, a moth to a flame, a bee to honey, an addict to their fix. 

Instinctual, automatic, right. 

“Sunny?” 

“I’m here, darling,” he nuzzles into your cheek, ribcage expanding against your torso as he inhales, deep and hungry. A slow exhale follows, as if he’s savouring the scent, intertwined with a soft hum. “I’m here.”

No other words are spoken as he shoves at his waistband, freeing his incessantly aching cock, one palm splayed on the mattress by your shoulder, keeping him precariously hovering above you, the other curling around the base of his cock, squeezing twice. 

He’s been thinking about this. He’s always thinking about this. 

It’s an insatiable craving that inevitably (and predictably) begins to flare up a few hours before it’s time for him to retire; an unbearable itch birthed behind his sternum, clawing at his heart, growing, spreading, infecting each limb and organ as time ticks by so that it has enveloped his entire form in torrid yearning for you the moment he’s off the clock. 

The blood in his veins prickles, surges with each step that carries him closer to his lover, almost as if it’s attempting to escape, becoming fervent at the thought of being close to you.

The only reprieve to be found is when he sinks into your sweet cunt—ill-prepared, Sunday’s desperation casting a dense haze of lust over his brain; a sick pressure pressing against the walls of his skull, rendering logic incoherent and unnecessary, reducing him to something primal and salivating.

Delicate skin stretches, strains, splits as your body opens itself up for his cock, a soft hiss inhaled through the gaps of your teeth, jaw clenching with the action. 

“I know, I know, I’m almost in,” he soothes, voice already gone hoarse from the way your body swallows him down, cunt gorging itself on his cock, cute little hole fluttering around his shaft as he bottoms out, almost as if it’s striving to suck him in further, draw him in deeper.

Greedy little thing. 

He always allows himself a moment to bask in the feeling—to bask in the warmth of your body wrapped around his in the most intimate, complete sense: cockhead pressed snuggly to your cervix, your thighs embracing either side of his hips, your ankles instinctually linking behind his back in a possessive grip, heels digging into the dimples cushioning the base of his spine as they try to push him in more.

A sigh decompresses his chest, his body draping itself over yours as all of the trials and tribulations of the day seep from his pores, your cunt an automatic remedy, an instant rhapsody. 

You’re drooling all over him, he can feel it—eager slick that pools around the base of his cock and streams down to puddle in the folds of his balls. It’s awe-inspiring, the way your body immediately reacts to his own—you’ve already soaked him, neatly trimmed silver curls dewy and glistening as they sop up your slick, and he’s done nothing more than fill you up with his flesh. 

A moan pries its way past his lips, an involuntary reaction, his hips grinding down into you, smearing your arousal across his skin in a thick glaze. It’s slippery, his pelvis gliding against your body with fluid ease, pubic bone rolling over your swollen clit in slow, hard motions. 

You’re murmuring something, pleads wadded up between your molars, gurgling on the back of your tongue as you burrow your face into his shoulder.

“Okay, okay, sweet girl,” he’s pacifying, the mattress dipping as his knees dig into it, bare palms running along your thighs in a smooth, tender caress. 

Nimble fingers hook behind your knees, gently unlatching your legs from around his waist and pushing them up, up, up, until your thighs are on either side of your torso and your heels are resting on his shoulders. 

And then, he begins. 

There’s no gradual build up, no anticipation or teasing—neither of you have the patience or restraint for that; not tonight, not ever—and his pace is ruthless right from the start, his thrusts kept quick and deep as his hips piston into you.

The harmony of wet, sticky slaps fills the room, intertwined with your little whines and his husky growls as his balls, thoroughly drenched in your essence, smack against your ass, a sordid metronome.

Sugar-stained breath wafts across your face in dense pants as his body shrouds yours again, crushing your thighs between heaving chests, the tops of your toes curling around the nape of his neck. The mattress dents further beneath his knees, strong muscles flexing as his rutting accelerates, the head of his cock grinding against your g-spot in harsh, shallow jabs. 

His name oozes from your lips, thick and lazy and swathed in spit, bastardized by his motions into a single syllable, your tongue never quite able to get the word out. It sounds like you’re drowning in it, almost, a precious garble of Sun-Su-Da-ay collecting at the back of your throat, sliced to pieces by pleasure. 

Lashes fluttering against drowsiness, your head raises off the pillow, yearning to string a smattering of sloppy kisses along his jawline. Sunday hums, head quirking to the side and presenting to you his stretched neck, a silent request for more. 

And you obey, like the perfect little angel you are, tongue following the curve of his neck in one smooth, flat, fluid brush—from the hinge of his jaw to the protruding knob of his collarbone. It gleams in the dim light and you sigh a little, proud of your work. He looks so pretty painted in strokes of you. 

Soft lips follow the path of saliva back up his throat, sealing yourself into his skin and giggling sleepily at the quivery little whine your motions evoke, Sunday nestling clumsily into your kiss. 

Silver-blue tufts cling to his temples and his forehead, plastered with sweat into defined points, his sunset eyes gone dark and glimmering, framed by heavy lids drooping beneath the combined weight of exhaustion and ecstasy. 

Despite the fatigue of the day, of his duties and obligations, he’s still absolutely ethereal, glowing in the radiance of your combined love, reinvigorated bit by bit with every sound he manages to tug from your throat—precious little moans and broken little gasps that he breathes in, gulps down, devours in time with the pumping of his hips.

They’re traded in exchange for sounds of his own, quiet whimpers and soft grunts exhaled onto your waiting, wanting tongue with every plunge of his cock. The appendage curls, hugging the sounds, melting them in the heat of your mouth and steeping your tastebuds with him before it darts back out again, tip lapping ravenously at his parted lips—tracing along his cupid’s bow, licking at the edges of his teeth, teasingly brushing the point of his own tongue, enticing it to come out and play. 

That earns you a chuckle, something wispy and warm spilling down your throat, genuine amusement molding his mouth into an open grin.

He gives you what you want, tongue lolling out from between spit-slicked lips—an offering to you, and one you take gladly, greedily, suckling it into your scorching mouth to wreathe your own tongue around it in a slippery embrace. 

A shudder ripples through his flesh, muscles seizing, and he whines low and needy in his throat, the only warning you get before he’s surging forward, front teeth clacking against your own, pinched lips splitting between sharp enamel. 

Copper floods his mouth, tangy and pungent, but it does not deter him, his own tongue charging at yours with such force you nearly choke on it. You swear he’s attempting to lick down your throat, tongue jammed at the back of your mouth and sweeping across it, as if it’s desperate to venture deeper.

His breath his hot against your face, ragged pants exhaled through his nostrils beading on your cheeks and upper lip. The snapping of his hips has turned vicious, voracious, fucking into you in time with his tongue, stuffing you full from both ends.

It’s a divine sensation, being so filled up with Sunday—whole, right, one, like you were incomplete before this moment, and will be incomplete after he’s gone, something vital missing—and you keep trying to siphon him in further, throat constricting as it swallows around the tip of his tongue.

He wants to give you more, front lips mashed between sharp incisors as his mouth shoves forward, another spritz of blood—yours, his, doesn’t matter—smearing across chins, sticky and watered down with saliva, a pale pink glaze. 

But his lungs are burning, huffs of breath tangling together within your conjoined mouths and scarfing down each other’s air, coughing around your lover’s exhales while oxygen slowly but steadily dissipates. 

He breaks apart with a discontented whine of his own, clammy forehead resting against yours as you each gulp down air, stuttered and wheezing. Wrecked, raw little noises spill into the space between your lips, continuously shattering your attempted inhales, fucked from your chests with the wild bucking of his hips.

Rapture has been building within the both of you, brought closer and closer by each drive of his cock, each drag over that swollen spot deep within you, each teasing drift of your clit over his skin, his thrusts turned jerky and desperate as he chases that bliss, as he endeavours to deliver it to you.

“Please,” you’re begging for it, the one thing only he can give you, a single piece of heaven, of him, carved from his soul and gifted to you every night. “Please, Daddy, please, please—”

He’s nodding against you in short, swift motions, forehead grinding into your own, his tongue laving messily at your lips, as if attempting to sop up the remnants of your moans. 

“I love you,” he manages to gasp out, rhythm never faltering, each ram into you harder and faster than the last. “I love you, I love you, I—a-ah—”

Hot cream fills your cunt suddenly, his cock throbbing almost viciously as it spurts endless loads of cum into you—so much, too much; your little womb can’t nearly take it all, stuffed and bulging before finally overflowing with his seed, thickly dribbling past the tight seal of his cock to gather in the ridges of the sheets, little rivers of silky white slowly seeping into crisp linen.

He always cums quick during these nightly rituals; you both do, too eager to have one another—a piece of one another—buried within you, or sheathing hard flesh and soaking into it, saturating it with your essence.

But it doesn’t stop there, because you can’t, because it is not and never will be quite enough to satisfy the ravenous craving you each harbour for one another. His hips don’t still, won’t still, not even after he’s emptied his balls into you and milked himself dry, jolting in erratic, juddering motions. 

Your own pelvis rolls up in lazy ruts and sloppy circles, half-baked sounds of pleasure drivelling from the corner of your mouth with sleepy spit. Sunday has since collapsed on top of you, his weight pleasant and grounding, his breath a humid constant against your sticky skin. His palms outline the contours of your body as his hips rock, fingers sinking into plush flesh to knead and grope in appreciation. Delicate vessels snap beneath his grip, tissues flooded with navy and violet, leaving a smattering of fingerprints seared into your flesh. 

You fuck until you’re both layered in sweat and slick, bodies gliding together effortlessly in smooth, wet movements, skin shimmering with one another beneath beams of silver. You fuck until your cunt is raw and puffy, chafed from the ceaseless rubbing, until you’re both sucking in hisses and jittering out strained whines from the shocks of overstimulation, routinely coursing through your frames in thick electric waves. 

You fuck until you’re both too exhausted to continue, pathetic humping slowing to something tender and sporadic before it finally halts completely, Sunday still buried to the hilt, and you fall asleep stained with each other—you in his sweat and his breath and his fractured, hummed out moans; him in your cunt with evidence of your conjoined arousal glazing his pelvis and his thighs and his balls, sticky sweet like syrup. 

It is the most blissful heaven either of you could ever dream of, nothing more pure than the ecstasy of entering sweet dreams submerged in one another, saturated with one another, bodies stitched together into a singular, perfect entity, breathing and being as one.

[casscainmainly]

Gender and Sexuality in Batgirl (2000)

While Kelley Puckett's opening run on Batgirl (2000) deals with Cass experiencing human connections and human life outside of fighting, issue 37 onwards takes a hard turn into gendered experiences. For sure there's some problematic elements (Cass gets sexualised a LOT more), but Horrocks' run does explore Cass' view on gender and romance in an interesting way. I'll be focusing on issues 37 - 57, essentially Horrocks' run but including guest writers (Gabrych, for instance, is our starting point). By the way I'm not a gender studies expert so feel free to disagree with any of these readings.

Riot Girls

Issue #38 (written by Gabrych) opens with this Batman conversation, which sets up Horrocks' run perfectly. Cass has never experienced a close female friendship (Babs is more mother/daughter) until Stephanie. Yet Bruce strikes a nerve here: she's not like you, and she never will be. He tells Cass something she already suspects - there's something she lacks that Stephanie has. (Bruce is, ironically, trying to say that Stephanie's the one lacking, but that's not what Cass hears).

This leads into the iconic Steph-Cass conversation:

Steph reveals she's had a baby, and this is Cass' reaction. She realises how much she doesn't understand about her body, romance, and gender in general. Stephanie has "finally beat [her] at something." She has experienced 'girlhood' in ways Cass can only dream of.

At the end of the issue, Stephanie asks if Cass thinks "he's right" (referring to Bruce), and Cass says yes. By siding with the male perspective (Bruce, or the he), Cass falls out with Stephanie, losing her first female friend. The whole of Horrocks' run should be understood in the context of this issue, with Cass searching for an understanding of her gender/sexuality.

The Superboy Saga

When Babs takes her on vacation, she makes Cass put on a bikini. Cass ends up meeting Superboy, getting grossed out, and delivering this excellent speech. It's Cass' first proper encounter with the male gaze, and it's especially disquieting for her because a) she knows the power of vision and b) she's brushing up against sexism and systemic injustice, something she hasn't really experienced before. She's encountering a power that can't be defeated with fists, and she is struggling to understand it.

She eventually does kiss Conner, and decides to take a trip to Metropolis. The decision occurs after this panel. Cass' desire to be with Conner stems from her desire to understand these feelings of passion, to want/need and be wanted/needed by others. The top panel here is interesting, too; she sees sexism playing out with other people ("check me out, girls!" / "Jerk."). Her anguished expression indicates she's having trouble reconciling the harmful forms of passion (top panel) with the sweeter forms of love (bottom panel).

At the end of the Superboy saga, Cass learns to distinguish between her romantic and platonic feelings. This taking place after the fallout with Stephanie (who explicitly repudiated her friendship) makes this extra intriguing - Cass calls the creature they're fighting "lonely," clearly meant to show insight into herself. Without Steph, she felt 'lonely', thus sort of falling into this relationship with Conner. Conner, however, is unable to fulfil that loneliness. Which leads us to...

Bruce Wayne Strikes Again

I noted in my other post how Bruce is super disapproving of Cass' love life. While it's hilarious, it genuinely impacts Cass' ability to express her sexuality freely. Here, Bruce pits Cass' sexuality against Batgirl; he implies that these attempts to understand herself harm her vigilante career. The way Cass responds ("I want to. I need to") is strikingly similar to the passions panel ("I want you. I need you"). Instead of being directed to another person, Cass directs her passions to Batgirl as a career. She's sliding back into her early mindset where Batgirl was all she was.

Again, another contrast between her and Stephanie: Stephanie fought for recognition in the suit, but Cass has to fight for an identity outside of it.

The Tai'Darshan Tale

But the real motivator for Cass' sexual awakening is, of course, Tai'Darshan, the semi-racist-caricature metahuman terrorist from Tarakstan. He flirts with Cass constantly, and makes a lot of gendered references ("easy, girl," "I don't understand why a woman like you," he calls her "beautiful") (#39, #40). He is the first significant character to take an interest in Cass as a girl, and without his flirting Cass probably wouldn't have kissed Conner (she kisses him after fighting Tai'Darshan twice).

Tai'Darshan does a big tornado thing and Bruce, intent on not letting him kill, knocks him aside, killing him. I'm low-key mad about this plot point, but that's okay 'cause so is Cass! In an echo of the Steph-Cass situation above, Bruce entirely disapproves of Tai'Darshan, but Cass likes him. Unlike with Stephanie, however, Cass doesn't side with Bruce. Instead, she keeps her feelings "secret" from Batman. It's the start of their relationship fracturing, as well as the start of Cass prioritising her own feelings and self-development over Bruce's perception of her.

No Soul

After all of this boy drama Cass understands romance a bit better, but is still in the dark about her gender. When a woman tells her she has "no soul," Cass goes to Barbara, who tells her the following:

Barbara connects 'soul' with Batgirl and femininity. Cass believes her, putting on Barbara's old suit (which one panel associates with "girl power!") and heading into the streets. What's interesting is that to achieve girlhood, Cass discards her suit in favour of Barbara's. Once again, there's this belief she's not 'feminine enough'; she's not like other girls, and she never will be.

But the suit obviously doesn't match Cass' fighting style, and in the end Cass returns to her old one. We get this great speech from Babs:

Cass is asleep here, but I do think she's learning that there's no 'right way' to be a girl - that she doesn't have to be Stephanie or Conner's girlfriend or Batgirl or Barbara, but just Cass.

The Dick Debacle

Cass gets hit with a drug called 'Soul' and has these hallucinations. This mostly male group sexualises her, criticises her for being sexual, calls her ugly, calls her hot; Cass is visualising the overwhelming contradictory standards applied to women everywhere, a compression of all her experiences thus far. Even Babs has fallen victim to pushing Cass towards stereotypically feminine experiences, and Cass' anguish is not so much at these people but at the patriarchy she's finally beginning to understand.

Dick, in particular, seems to represent this anger:

Finding out Dick broke Babs' heart seems to be the final straw. Here, her hallucinations paint her rage as feminine; the devil repeatedly calls her "girl," and Soul is being peddled by an all-female group who were 'tired of being girlfriends'. Then Cass kicks Dick out a window.

The Dick incident represents a culmination of her negative gendered experiences, beginning from her fallout with Steph and ending with another one of her close female companions (Babs) being hurt by a man.

Fallout

In the final issue before War Games, Cass essentially loses both Barbara and Steph (after making up with her and seeing her as Robin). I just like the parallel between Cass looking at Barbara as she leaves, and Stephanie looking at Cass - in a way, this is the most 'like' Stephanie Cass ever gets.

There isn't really a satisfactory conclusion to the explorations of gender or sexuality in Horrocks' run, or even in Gabrych's after. I think there's a lot to explore and I hope whenever Cass gets her next solo they look into all this a little further!

[spicyspiders]

I could give you a request if that’s inspiration for a Wolverine/Deadpool threesome - but feel free to ignore if it’s not your thing :)

I could imagine reader being an assassin, getting the objective to kill Wade (without knowing it’s impossible) and y’know, failing miserably. Ending up sandwiched between Wade and Logan, Wade wanting to know who sent him, and then getting rewarded for being such a good boy and telling.

Warning for sex pollen, double penetration, and one instance of Deadpool breaking the fourth wall.

“You look pretty withering in pain like that,” Deadpool said, one of his guns trained to your forehead. 

The man beside him looked at him with his brows drawn in disgust, his arms crossed over his chest. 

You looked up and stole a glance at the man just in time for his eyes to slowly look you over, the intensity of his gaze making you shiver. 

“What?” Deadpool asked, “have you seen the way that suit fits him?” He asked the man. 

“They didn’t tell me there would be two of you,” you said through gritted teeth, your eyes trained back on the floor. Maybe if you stared at it long enough, it would open and swallow you up. 

“This is my partner, Wolverine,” Deadpool said, his voice full of fondness even as he waved the gun pointed at you at the man. 

“Partner? How inclusive,” you said with an eye roll. 

“Business partner,” Wolverine clarified, making Deadpool gasp and pull his other hand to his heart. 

“We share the same bed,” Deadpool told you. 

“Shared! It was one time when,” Wolverine paused, “we fell asleep in a car,” he clarified again. 

“That hurts,” Deadpool said, putting his gun back in the holster, “just like you are now,” he said, kneeling down to the chair he tied your hands behind your back in. “It sure looks like it does,” he said quietly, his head moving down slowly as he looked over your sweaty, disheveled appearance. 

“They said it would kill you,” you whispered. 

“Who said it would kill me?” He asked,

You didn’t know why your mouth couldn’t form the words to tell them the name of the people you work for. Well, worked for. Just minutes before you were tied up, you were yelling into your phone at them, and then they fucking fired you for their fuck up. 

You felt it in your gut when they contacted you with the contract that only told you all you had to do was administer the poison and that it would do the rest, you should have turned it down.

“You didn’t tell me he couldn’t fucking die,” you yelled into your phone before Deadpool had shot it away. Maybe it had to do with the poison, you weren’t sure. You sure felt angry enough to spill who it was, but maybe it was because you were too focused on how when it had gotten on just the small sliver of skin that it did, your body lit up in a mix of pain and arousal. 

The feelings battled each other out all throughout your body, but one overshadowed the other when Deadpool ran a gloved hand over your crotch. Your head fell over the back of the chair and your mouth fell open as you let out a moan louder than you expected. 

“How about this,” Deadpool began, his hand tightening over the bulge that was your hard cock, “you tell me who sent you and we all go kill them together. After we fuck your brains out, of course.”

“We?” Wolverine asked.

“Then you kill me after they’re dead?” You asked, trying not to thrust your hips into Deadpool’s hand. 

“You lasted longer on this stuff than I expected, we could use you,” Deadpool answered. 

“For what?” You questioned, groaning as one of Deadpool’s fingers traced along the print of your cock through your suit. 

“Right now?” Deadpool asked, “to cum,” he said, giggling at his own joke, “but after that, you can join my strike team,” he said, already sounding excited. 

“What is that, a bowling league?” You asked. 

Deadpool doubled over in laughter, his head hovering right over your crotch. “I like a man that can make me laugh,” he said, wiping away an imaginary tear over his mask. “You better say yes to me fucking you because I’m as hard as the bowling balls that we’re going to use in our strike team slash bowling league,” Dead said as he stood up. 

“I’m sorry,” Wolverine interrupted, “we?” He asked again. 

“C’mon, Logan,” Deadpool said, turning to face the man, “you were definitely looking at his ass when I sat him down in this chair before I tied him up.”

“I just,” Wolverine– Logan cleared his throat before continuing, “didn’t want you to be too rough and break the chair,” he said, looking everywhere but except in the direction of the two of you. 

“Aww!” Deadpool cooed, “you do care!”

The next seconds, minutes, or hours, honestly, you didn’t know, went by in a blur you didn’t remember.  Almost like-

“Almost like they didn’t happen?” Deadpool asked, swatting at your bare ass, now seated in his lap, his cock buried deep inside you, “almost like the writer didn’t feel like adding a transition from where we were to where we are now?”

“What?” You asked. You tried to shake your head to clear away the confusion, and to try and shake off the heat blazing under your skin, but it didn’t help, “where are we?”

“My apartment,” Deadpool answered, holding your asscheeks open. 

“How-”

“Shh,” Logan whispered, “just relax,” he said into your ear, his hands on your hips, his body in the space of Deadpool’s spread legs. 

Relax for what? Deadpool’s cock was already inside you. Your mind was too foggy from whatever had gotten on your skin to form a coherent thought, let alone voice it. Lucky for you, Logan answered your question by pressing the blunt head of his cock to your hole, right where Wade already had you stretched open. 

“I can’t,” you said, trying to move away, but that only got you deeper in Deadpool’s arms. 

“You can,” Logan whispered into your ear before his cock plunged inside. And to your surprise, he was right. Whatever they did must have worked as your body opened up to them, making space for the both of their cocks. 

“You think they would give us the recipe for whatever the fuck they gave you was?” Deadpool asked with a groan as he fell back into the pillows on his bed. 

“Shut the fuck up, Wade,” Logan said, his voice rumbled behind you. 

“Wade?” You asked, your hands on his still clothed chest. 

“Wade Winston Wilson,” Wade responded, puffing out his chest with confidence. 

“Your parents named you after the internet?” You asked, tracing a finger down the zipper on the front of his suit. 

“I just got my cock inside you and I’ve already fucked you stupid,” Wade responded with a laugh. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Logan said, “both of you,” he said, choosing for himself that you were adjusted and ready for not just his cock, but Wade’s as well.

You wanted to open your mouth and ask why you were the one that was naked, but when Wade raised his hand to your lips, you instead took his gloved fingers into your mouth to mold your tongue around, not words. 

You bit down into the material, your teeth leaving indents into whatever his gloves were made of. They tasted like salt from where they were on your skin as you moaned when Logan fucked back inside. 

“Really gonna make me do all the work?” Logan asked under his breath, but you still both could hear. Which wasn’t fair of him to ask and expect you to respond, especially as he picked up his pace and his cock hit your prostate, clearing any thought from your mind. 

“You look like you have a good handle on it,” Wade answered, the lower half of the head of his mask rising and falling as he panted.

Logan grumbled out something you couldn’t understand before his teeth latched down onto the sweaty column of your neck, making you moan. The pain from his teeth sent a flare pleasure through your body, straight to your cock. 

It gave a twitch, which unbeknownst to you was your cock spurting ropes of cum over Wade’s chest. It took a second for your body to catch up, but once it did, your back arched as your cock continued to spurt messily across Wade’s chest. 

“Fuck!” Wade moaned, his other hand moving to your hips to keep you still from Logan’s movements as you clenched on their cocks. “Logan, look what you’ve done!” 

“It’s been a while, but I’m pretty sure this is what you wanted to happen,” Logan responded after he pulled his mouth away from your neck, your skin now singing in pain. 

“This is going to ruin my suit,” Wade whimpered before whining at the stimulation to his cock. 

“Sorry,” you responded, your body shaking through the aftershocks. 

“It’s not you, baby,” Wade cooed, the man rising to hold you against his chest, “Logan was too eager to get that weapon of his inside you to get our suits off,” he said, running his hands along your skin in comfort. 

Logan sputtered out a response, his cock throbbing inside you, “you were the one that-”

“Not now, Logan,” Wade interrupted, running a hand down your back, the action feeling possessive, “we’re a little busy, can’t you tell?” He asked, a smirk evident just by the sound of his voice. 

Logan growled, knocking Wade’s hand away before the one went to your shoulder and the other to your hip. Pissed off, Logan started thrusting again at a fast pace, his cock moving in and out of your body. 

Now past the aftershocks, their cocks provoked your prostate, the pleasure of it quickly making your grow hard again. From your shoulder, Logan’s hand moved to your neck to pull you back into a kiss. Logan kissed you slow and deep, like he was trying to show off what he could do because he wasn’t wearing a mask that covered his entire face like Wade was.

“You know all I have to do is lift up the bottom of my mask,” Deadpool said, his hips grinding up to get his cock deeper into your hole, like that was even possible, “besides. I want our first kiss to be special: a movie about a masked anit-hero, then a candlelit dinner, and finally, wine dine sixty-”

“Shut up, Wade!” You and Logan said in unison before your lips pressed together again, just to annoy the man even more.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Dick loves your plushie collection.

He doesn’t find it embarrassing in the slightest! If anything he finds it more offensive that you’d think it embarrassing having plushies as an adult. After he himself has a plush bunny dressed in his nightwing attire -escrima sticks and all- that he won at an arcade game a while back perched on the top of his bed back home.

He calls it dick jr and cuddles it when he has a rough night of crime fighting.

So he’s the last person to ever cast judgment on your plush collection.

If anything he lets his imagination run wild with them and takes full advantage of them. So if the instance came where you weren’t home, Dick would always send you photos and mini videos of him taking excellent care of a plush hare called Sir John Roderick Wellington the third by tucking him in bed at night, pretending to brush his teeth, etc

Or he’d make enact a photo shoot with a couple of them and send the results to you as your left asking where’d he manage to get all sorts of accessories for them…you’re still awaiting the answer to this day. Another thing he’d do with them is take them with him as company while he’s doing mundane chores in the apartment and act as though the plush is helping him.

You were quick to catch on that Dick having a hell of blast with it with how often he spammed your phone with a plethora of photos and videos that kept you up to date with the daily misadventures of your plushy. And yet you weren’t any better either as you kept them all in a album in your phone and are still wondering why your phone keeps informing you that you are running low on space…

Your favourite picture of your plushy was one where Dick had it tucked in bed, a picture of you on its lap, meanwhile Dick’s face could be seen peaking up from the bottom corner of the screen followed by the caption; ‘he misses you and can’t wait for you to come home and cuddle him. Oh and also me. :(

It’s became your Home Screen now and it was the best decision you’ve been made because it never failed to make you smile even on a bad day.

Jason loves it when you wear his clothes.

It’s free therapy for the man seeing you in his clothes and you can quote me on that.

He fucking loved coming home to see you do your own thing while looking all comfortable and relaxed in his shirts or hoodies doing so. For all Jason could ever want for you was for you to feel comfortable with him however you saw fit.

Also it gives him the more reason to stare at you shamelessly, well more than he did already, but you get the point. Jason is a simple man who’s not above letting it known how much he absolutely adores you.

So you wearing his clothes only added onto that adoration that he had for you. No one else could be more perfect in his eyes then you and he stands by that that statement.

‘You look perfect.’ -Jason

‘Jason, I’m wearing sweats and one of your shirts while eating pizza.’ -you

‘Yeah, perfect.’ -Jason

‘Doofus.’ -you, smiling.

Some days Jason would even go out of his way to leave his clothes on your side of the bed as a hint that he wants you to wear it for the day. Other days however he would be outright and blunt with the fact that he’d rather have you in his clothes than your own at this point.

‘Why are you wearing your clothes?’ - Jason

‘Because they’re my clothes and I feel bad wearing all of yours all the time.’ -you

‘Well I on the other hand don’t, take this shirt and go back into our bedroom and change.’ - Jason says as he takes off the shirt he was wearing and hands it to you, uncaring of the fact that he was shirtless in the living room.

‘You’re being dramatic Jason.’ - you as you take the warm shirt from his hands.

‘No I’m not, I just like you in my clothes a lot better than anything else.’ - Jason said, crossing his arms over his chest.

‘You’re getting jealous over clothes now?’ - you asked, raising a brow.

‘Yes.’ Jason responds instantly. ‘Now for the sake of my sanity go back and put my shirt on please.’

You kiss his cheek before leaving for the bedroom to change. ‘If you insist.’

‘I heavily insist chipmunk.’ - Jason says as he watched you walk away before following after to grab another shirt.

Jason loves it when you’re in his clothes. It’s his greatest strength and his greatest weakness.

[moiraimyths]

The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe) | Official Trailer

The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe) is a lore-rich and choice-driven historical fantasy visual novel inspired by Irish mythology and Celtic folklore. Play as a tenant farmer from mid-19th century Ireland, whose path becomes inexplicably entwined in fairy affairs after getting robbed by the roadside and lured into the mythic and war-torn world of Tír na nÓg: A once unified land, now divided into the Seelie and Unseelie Courts. Will you escape and return home with your stolen belongings? Or does fate have something else in mind?

🍃 STEAM 🍂 ITCH.IO 🍃PATREON 🍂DISCORD 🍃

If you're excited for our indie game, please give us a wishlist on Steam or a follow on Itch.io! For more information, click below👇

Meet the Cast

Facts & Questions: The Game

🍃 The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe) is a Kickstarter-funded project currently in development. Due to the scope of the story, we will be releasing content serially on Steam and Itch.io over several years, beginning November 1, 2024. While you wait, feel free to play our demo! The revised version, with all new backgrounds and more voice acting, has been released on Steam and Itch.io as of August 1st, 2024!

🍂 The main character's name and pronouns are determined by the player, but in Vol. 1 (or the demo content), the MC will be referred to as "they/them" due to a case of mistaken identity.

🍃 Thanks to our Kickstarter, all upcoming routes will have both romantic and platonic choice options. If you're uninterested in romance, feel free to make friends instead!

🍂 Due to its Irish setting, NDM will occasionally feature instances of characters speaking in Gaeilge, i.e. the Irish language. All instances of Gaeilge are linked to an internal translation tool, which will be voiced by Nigel McKeon, a Gaeilgeoir.

🍃 Shae and Robin are non-binary characters, and respectively use they/them and any/all pronouns. Robin and Keagan are also arospec, and Shae is asexual. (Note: You can pursue the arospec characters romantically, but their romances might look a little different as a result of their identity.)

🍂 The free demo consists of the introductory volume of The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe). It is 2.5 to 3 hours of total gameplay, and ends at the point in which the player would continue on to a route (Vol. 2-7). The full game will be paid.

🍃 NDM is very intentionally set just prior to the onset of the Great Famine, which is both thematically and textually relevant to the leftist, anti-imperialist story we're aiming to tell. If you would like more insight into this, refer to this post.

🍂 Some Mac users who directly download the demo from Itch.io run into issues launching the game. If you're also running into issues, please refer to this post on our itch.io page.

🍃 Prepare yourself for horse related shenanigans. 🐎

Facts & Questions: The Company

🧵 Moirai Myths is a five-person company based out of Canada. The core devs/founders go by Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos. All writing and programming are done by this collective, i.e. the Fates.

🪡 Moirai Myths has a two person in-house artist team consisting of Kazane, our Character/UI Designer, and Melinoe, our Environmental Designer. In addition to them, though, we have had a number of guest artists assist us with the creation of sprites, CGs, and an assortment of other materials. If you'd like to meet them, check out our about page on our website!

✂️ Moirai Myths stands with the people of Palestine 🇵🇸

Disclaimer: This description will be updated periodically.

[jules-loves-lukecastellan]

you and luke getting caught making out by Chiron or Mr D would be so good

| luke castellan x fem! reader

౨ৎ warnings ౨ৎ: kissing

౨ৎ summary ౨ৎ: you and luke make out and lose track of time… (btw don’t mind all the fake names i give campers. love ya <3)

“When I kiss you, the whole world disappears.”

it was a sunny day at camp halfblood. the perfect weather, not a cloud in the sky. chiron decided that since it was a perfect day, he assigned all the head counselors to do an activity with their cabins. for instance, clarisse and her cabin went to the rock wall, annabeth’s cabin went to the forest to pick some flowers and weave them into flower crowns, etc.

chiron picked you and luke to teach archery, because he thought this particular activity needed two counselors. you were getting ready for the day, sporting the classic “camp halfblood” t-shirt and a pair of blue, baggy cargo jeans. you were putting your hair in a low ponytail, since you didn’t want your hair to get in your eyes, resulting in you killing someone.

as you tied your hair, you heard the cabin door open with a squeak because of how old it was. you took one last look at your hair before you looked at who entered. your eyes were met with a tall, curly haired, handsome, strong guy. any guesses who it is? it was your boyfriend, luke castellan.

“hey angel.” he said lovingly as he came further into the cabin. “oh hey luke. what are you doing?” you asked as you went back to do some final checks on your outfit in the body mirror next to one of the desks in the cabin. you suddenly saw luke figure walk up behind you and hug you from behind.

you both smile as he rests his chin on your shoulder and you put your hand on the side of his face (i hope that makes sense lol). he starts kissing your shoulder and eventually goes up to your neck and you close your eyes, with delight. luke keeps kissing you up until he reaches your cheek.

you then turn around so you’re facing him. you look from his beautiful eyes to his soft plump lips and you find yourself leaning forward. luke sees you leaning forward and so does he. as the gap between you two close, you start moving forward and luke starts stepping backwards until his back hits one of the cabin walls.

his tongue slips into your mouth going wild and free, exploring it. as both your tongues meet, your caught a little off guard and luke takes his opportunity to flip you over, so now your back is up against the wall. you can taste the strawberries and blueberries from this mornings breakfast on his lips. the sweet, yet bitter taste.

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chiron is walking around, seeing how everyone is doing with their activities/classes. he walks to the archery range, only to find the campers are just sitting there. “my my! what are you all doing? why aren’t you doing archery?” he asked, very confused with some concern laced in his voice.

“counselor luke and counselor y/n aren’t here to teach us anything. we don’t know what to do.” a little blonde girl named elise said, shyly. chiron squinted and looked very confused. “why would they miss teaching? where would they be?” he mentally asked himself.

“hm. alright. i’ll go look for them and… you!” he said while pointing at a random guy who was sitting with everyone else, “you’re in charge. start having everyone get their bows and arrows ready.” chiron ordered before rushing off to find you and luke.

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chiron burst through the doors of every cabin and found no trace of you or luke. he was on the last cabin and he barged in. and there he found you and luke against the wall. making out. “what is the meaning of this?!” he yelled. you and luke jumped apart from each other, scared at the sudden noise. as you both made eye contact with chiron he boomed, “YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO TEACH CAMPERS ARCHERY 20 MINUTES AGO! AND HERE I FOUND YOU TWO KISSING? OUT RIGHT NOW.”

with an embarrassed look on both luke and your faces, you started walking towards the door, kind of sad that you missed 20 minutes of teaching campers. you felt so bad. you were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard chiron, “you will both be cleaning all the cabins tomorrow as punishment.” luke seemed to accept his fate by nodding and slightly smiling.

you on the other hand, “ewww even the hygieia cabin?” you asked making a disgusted face. “for being the kids of the cleanest goddess, they sure are dirty and messy.”

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౨ৎ a/n ౨ৎ- i hope u liked this🫶🏻🫶🏻!! happy episode 4 dayyy <3

-jules🎀

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