#absolutely terrible priorities

[saddest-girl-in-the-whole-world]

I think one of my favourite parts about the locked tombs worldbuilding is that an impressive amount of its holes can be explained by going "yeah John was just kinda being weird here" like.

Why doesn't everyone just use guns??? Why is there a space monarchy??? Why didn't ANYONE figure out how to make paper??? Are there cows??? why are we using human leather, John you can FAMOULSY do necromancy on cows SO WHY HUMAN LEATHER?? It's been 10000 years since the whole nuclear disaster, surely by now one could have cleaned up earth, maybe even reversed climate change using their absurd god like powers??? We know that John's magic goes further than what we've been shown, he made (admittedly fucked up) flowers grow before, he can keep the sun running, HE CAN CONTROL THE COWS, even Abigail says that there could be branches of spirit magic we don't even know about yet just because nobody was given the chance to research them like.

John Gaius you stupid motherfucker ARE YOU EVEN A NECROMANCER OR DID YOU NOT BOTHER TO CHECK IF YOU CAN DO MORE???

[icezansky]

my brain feels like mush

[bisquid]

Wait wait you can't just drop that off and not elaborate. What do you mean is there a mafia presence in Wales?? Please spill, what things did you notice??

Okay so bearing in mind that I have ADHD and Chronic Terrible Observational Skills:

I am in Cardiff

For a concert I am attending solo

Doors open at 5

4:15 ish I go 'hmm I should eat something'

Cardiff is - unsurprisingly, being tiny and yet home to FOUR concert venues - Very Busy

Find McDonald's

McDonald's is very full. I recall my last concert related McDick's experience, and promptly bounce

Directly across the street

Is an Italian restaurant

It looks closed but fuckit maybe I can beg for like. Bread or some shit

Go over

Am immediately pounced upon by the hitherto unnoticed chain-smoking woman hanging out by the door mostly hidden by a potted ficus(?)

"I was wondering if you were open and if-" "yes yes we are open what would you like?" (strongish Italian accent)

Inside restaurant is Deserted

Explain that I'm sort of in a rush, am assured it's fine

Order chicken milanese which is generally a pasta dish with a breaded chicken component

Am led to seat nearish the front and promptly provided with a pint of coke in a glass tankard

Am then provided with a front row seat to an absolutely incomprehensible series of people entering and exiting (and in one case walking directly into) the door to what I can only presume is the kitchen

Starting with the guy who had been sitting at a table chain-smoking over a pile of papers

I counted at least three people exiting at least twice without actually entering in between

Am finally brought food

It is a breaded, butterflied chicken breast approximately the size of my face and a small pile of pasta approximately the size of my fist

It is all delicious

Chain-smoking papers man reappears, now wearing a chef's apron labcoat thing

Go up to pay, chain-smoking ficus lady is now having a very loud argument in a language I did not recognise but was not Italian Welsh English French russian Gaelic or Spanish

She sees me, says, and I quote 'ah little girl lost, one moment' and promptly hangs up

I am 27 and only nominally female

I am not remotely lost

She charges me for the pint of coke but not the food

I try to point out that she hasn't charged me for the food

'do you want to pay for the food?'

'.... Not if I don't have to?'

'good'

I leave. The door is now full of half a dozen very tall very Italian men and one absolutely adorable cocker spaniel

I ask if I can pet the dog (I have my priorities straight okay)

I am allowed to pet the dog. The dog and I are now best friends

The dog lead holder asks me in extremely accented but impeccably correct English if I had enjoyed the food

'yeah it was great!'

Everyone laughs a bit

I smile and pet the dog and realise I'm now late for the concert and hurry off

I see a post on Tumblr about mob fronts and several connections are made in my brain all at once

[starry-eyed-psychopomp]

No hate to cql or anything but every time I read a fic that has Lan Wangji be the Chief Cultivator I die inside. Because like. NO. That’s a TERRIBLE IDEA for everyone involved. First of all, Lan Zhan cannot communicate properly enough to be a politician, and his main priority is his husband. He is not suited for that role. Second of all, the novels’ implication that the next Chief Cultivator (if there even is one) would be Nie Huaisang is actually very important for Wei Wuxian’s character development?? Like, Wei Wuxian knows that Nie Huaisang is a lil conniving bitch who painstakingly arranged for the downfall of the most powerful man in the cultivation world, manipulating multiple people to their deaths (or at least emotional ruins) all for his own revenge. He knows that Nie Huaisang is capable of as much damage as Jin Guangyao, and that he’s poised to take over his seat of power. Wei Wuxian knows all of that and, very deliberately, decides not to give a fuck.

Wei Wuxian, who spent his entire life picking up the messes of other people, destroying himself in the process, only to have those same people spit in his face and make him a pariah, sees this potential Problem for the cultivation world and goes, “You know what? That’s none of my business.” and runs off to elope with his boyfriend. Like, Nie Huaisang probably won’t be as bad as Jin Guangyao. He’s been shown to have more human decency, at the very least. But he also spent the entire series expertly lying to everyone, so much so that we really don’t know what he plans to do now that he’s gotten his revenge. And you know what? That’s fine. He can fuck over all the four great sects if he’d like, because the cultivation world’s politics have been a corrupt shitshow for decades, and it’s their job to sort that shit out. It’s certainly not Wei Wuxian’s job. He’s done enough, and he deserves this one moment of selfishness. He deserves to get his own happy ending and settle down with the family he’s always wanted and not have to worry about saving all those ungrateful assholes. Wei Wuxian is at least on good terms with Nie Huaisang (it was awfully convenient that his old friend’s revenge scheme coincidentally involved resurrecting him and setting him up with his crush) and he trusts that he won’t fuck with him or his family.

And that’s good enough for him! Lan Wangji is similarly happy to spend the rest of his life with Wei Wuxian, and after 13 years of mourning he’s sure as fuck not gonna ruin his second chance to go play politics with the most obnoxious people in the world. The ideal ending for both of them is a happy marriage that mainly involves doing their own thing, night hunting together, fucking every day, and teaching the kids. Their calling, where other people are concerned, is absolutely as teachers, and nothing more.

[adaines-furious-feast]

OK, reasons why Arianwen wants to murder Angwyn

The night after Adaine brained Doreen, they're sitting in bed reading when Angwyn offhandedly remarks that Adaine gets her anger issues from Arianwen and Arianwen should work better at hiding them. Arianwen wants to brain him there and then but knows that would prove his point.

Does not let her go to a therapist even though they've both acknowledged that might be a good idea

One time there was an event at Angwyn's work where the families were invited and Angwyn told her he was embarrassed because she had only given him daughters and it made him look weak to the other diplomats

He frequently implies that she only got the Hudol job because of him, even though she was already a teacher at a prestigious school in Fallinel when they met

He belittles her interest in experimental magic and just generally won't let her talk to/at him about her interests and magical theories

Arianwen Abernant had planned her husband's murder 36 different ways and was mostly disappointed she didn't get to even see it happen.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

THE THINGS YOU DO FOR LOVE... ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; satoru begs you to wear the frilly maid dress he bought. against your better judgement, you indulge him.

word count; 7.0k (this was supposed to be short but i miss him terribly)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly sweet, literally just satoru being down horrendous, lots and lots of petnames (he is embarrassing), he’s ur biggest hypeman, entirely sfw!! (i feel like i have to specify that…), reader is a lil grumpy, satoru gojo is the most insufferable man on earth <3

a/n; this is just a silly lil wip i found in my drafts…. i dont remember what possessed me to write this i just think satoru would cry and fall to his knees and throw up blood if he saw u in a frilly dress

”— no.”

the word rolls off your tongue, instantaneous, with a decisive kind of sterness. leaving no room for hesitation, doubt or indecision; not a single gap for his argument to fit through, no loophole he could take advantage of to persuade you into giving in.

but despite all that, satoru just won’t back down.

”come on, baby, please?” he pleads, voice coaxing and sugary sweet. you can almost see those puppy dog eyes of his from behind the black glass of his shades. ”i already bought it and everything!”

”i don’t care,” you spit. a halfhearted attempt at appearing annoyed, in hopes it’ll distract him from the strawberry flush of your cheeks. ”i’m not wearing it. you shouldn’t have bought it, in the first place.”

”but sweetheart,” he drawls, tinged with a sadness he knows tugs at your heartstrings. ”it’s so cute. you’ll look so adorable.”

”not happening.”

”but —”

”— no. i’m seriously not wearing it, satoru.”

it’s harsh, the flow of your words, sharp and firm; but that’s your only option when he gets like this. your only slim chance at survival, being almost painfully direct. that doesn’t stop your resolve from weakening pitifully when satoru’s posture wilts, though, obviously exaggerated but still somehow effective. you debase yourself for being so weak for him. 

but giving in just isn’t an option, this time. 

under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t take too long for him to persuade you. satoru can be annoying, extremely so — but when he’s being so stubborn about something, there’s usually a good reason for it, even if it’s just that whatever he wants you to do will make him happy. to you, it’ll do.

(his happiness is your priority, after all.)

but in this case, there’s just no way. absolutely no way in hell.

he’s still holding that thing up, like he genuinely thinks it’ll support his argument, swaying it lightly side to side. it really, really doesn’t. it does the complete opposite, in fact.

”but angel,” he tries, again. you wonder if he’s eventually going to run out of petnames, or if he’ll just keep cycling through them until he runs out of air to breathe. ”don’t you wanna see how it’ll look on you?”

a sharp scoff flows from your lips. 

he can’t be serious. 

you really, really, really don’t. if anything, you want everything in the world except for that. you’d rather smash a glass bottle into little pieces and eat them one by one. you’d rather sit on satoru’s lap in a room full of other people. you’d rather jump in front of a moving train with explosives tied to your back.

— it’s so frilly. 

you almost couldn’t believe it, yourself. when he barged into the room, cardboard box in hand, fresh from the mail; all while wearing an excited grin, foreboding, but you were too mesmerized by it to even notice. 

it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, so you didn’t think much of it. satoru buying you gifts is not in any way unusual, even and especially if you tell him not to — and usually, it’d be a sweet occasion. the kind of moment you can soak in, drink up, and then recall fondly for the rest of the week. 

every single detail is worth cherishing. how excitedly he always opens it up, eager for your reaction, and how you always thank him, no matter what it is. sincerely, because satoru can be awkward with his affection, but his love bleeds through in moments like these.

from expensive, well-kept bouquets to little flowers on the side of the road; from thought-out gifts to little trinkets; no matter what it is, the sentiment remains the same.

(this made me think of you. i want you to have it. 

i remembered you mentioning this brand. i love you.)

a way for satoru to show his love, without overwhelming himself or you. a way of easing him into it, when everything is still just so new to him. 

buying you whatever catches his eye is the perfect solution, according to satoru. and it exasperates you, sometimes, when you come home to five amazon packages right outside your doorstep — but deep down you know it’s more for him than you. because it makes him happy, to be able to, allowed to show his love for you in ways like this. in normal ways, easy ways, that say more than his words ever could. 

(being granted the luxury of making you happy. of loving you, even if satoru doesn’t think he’s very good at that, just yet. but he is good at impulse buying things he knows you’d like; so that’ll have to do, for now.)

which is why you couldn’t help but let his infectious joy seep into your bloodstream, trickling its way through your veins with a sweet kind of fervour. couldn’t help but smile, a tender curl of your lips, in tandem with his cute little grin. couldn’t help but grow a little bit excited, as he opened the package — 

to reveal a cutesy, frilly, maid outfit.

— and then your mind screeched to a halt. 

the look on your face must have been something special, horrified and flustered in equal measure. almost in disbelief, as he immediately began to gush about the outfit in his hands. look at the bows, isn’t it cute? god, you’re going to look so pretty. i mean, you always do, obviously, but —

you weren’t really listening. all your mind could do was spin in circles, trying to get some read on the situation, but it was just no good. he genuinely, thoroughly, truly and sincerely expected you to put on a goddamn maid outfit. 

if he had bought it for himself, then maybe you would've been at least a little bit excited. you’re sure he'd look good in it; with those big blue eyes of his, that cute, happy grin. so good that your heart would probably combust, a little. melt through the floorboards. 

but no — he wanted you to wear it. 

and despite your instant, firm protests, he just will not give it up. your boyfriend is a stubborn man, so it’s no surprise, but it’s still enough to irk you.

”satoru, for real. no! i’m not wearing it!”

”but you’d look so good,” he whines, loud and grating as he inches closer to you. still holding the dress up like a prize; you back away, instinctively, like it’ll burn if you touch it.

”i don’t care! it’s a maid outfit! why the hell would i ever wear it?” 

sunglasses seated at the bridge of his nose, satoru allows you to catch a glimmer of his eyes — an effective method of persuasion. he definitely knows their power, and he’s definitely flaunting them for the sole purpose of making you falter. that manipulative scumbag.

the fact that it actually works makes you even angrier, though.

a sharp turn of your head, and your gaze falls on the windowpane, lingering there as you grumble under your breath. he’s so annoying. you’re growing more and more flustered by the minute, too. 

”— because you love me?” 

satoru tilts his head, white locks of hair following the movement. soft and silky, nice to run your fingers through, but you chase the thought away as soon as it enters your subconscious. he looks almost hypnotizing under the sunlight, with the golden rays illuminating his features, smoothing over the contours of his face — as if the sun was made solely to shine on his skin.

and ah, you think, there we go. satoru’s classic tactic; using your love for him as a bargaining chip, pouting down at you like a kicked puppy. you like to picture his eyes all watery and glassy, everytime he tries it, as if he’s some rejected cartoon-mascot. so silly. 

valiantly, you fight off the temptation to smile, gracing him with another little scoff instead. shooting him an unimpressed look, a tiny raise of your eyebrow. ”that won’t work on me.”

”aww, come on,” he almost coos, inching closer still. ”don’t you love me? my sweetiepie? my cute lil’ mochi?” 

(he’s getting bolder with the petnames, you note. as if that’d change anything. they’re so cheesy it makes you recoil.)

”obviously.” you deadpan, trying your best not to let affection seep into the words. but you see satoru’s lips curl up, anyway. ”i’m still not wearing it, though. sorry.”

satoru sighs. heavy, exasperated — dare you say defeated? for a second, you delude yourself into thinking he might actually give in, for once, spare you both the trouble — 

until he falls to the floor, knees hitting the soft flooring with a loud thud. awfully dramatic. he clasps his hands together as if to beg and plead, a starved dog at your feet, and gazes up at you with newfound determination.

”please, baby — i’m begging you,” he groans, voice sad and pained, agonized, like you just threatened to break up with him. silly, silly man.

”don’t grovel.” a sigh drops from your lips as the pads of your fingers go to massage your temples. soothing what you’re almost sure is an incoming headache.

and he makes a certain noise, almost a whimper, like you just kicked him in the gut. you glance down at him as if to signal really? with your eyes, lips parting to speak — 

but your breath only hitches in your throat, and no sound comes out.

satoru’s eyes are almost teary. peeking out from behind his shades, big and glassy, eyelashes dewy with what you know are just crocodile tears. he’s far too skilled at it for his own good, though — maybe you should be supporting his acting career, instead of the weird teacher-slash-sorcerer thing he’s got going on.

and you’re weak, you realize, terribly so. because something deep within your chest constricts, at those sad eyes, heart squeezed painfully, and when you speak you note that your voice sounds a lot softer. 

”satoru,” you sigh, again; more resigned this time, a little fatigued. missing the way his eyes glint at the sound, as if sensing an opportunity. ”really. i’m sorry i wasted your money, but it’s just… not happening. okay?” 

attempting to sound delicate, your voice settles on a soothing tilt, like an adult speaking to a tantrum-throwing child. hoping it’ll be enough to make him falter even slightly. 

it isn’t, of course; if anything, his determination only grows. 

”even just for a short while?” he tries, voice sweet and pliant. all daisies and sunbeams, tailormade to tug at your heartstrings. ”just an hour or so! then i’ll be satisfied.”

”an hour? no way!” you scoff.

and this time, you don’t miss it. from behind those shades, a certain glimmer of something flickers through his irises — something keen and observant. a certain dread crawls its way down your spine.

”so it’s fine if it’s less?” he grins, changing tactics, smooth and decisive. ”half an hour. that’s as low as i’ll go.”

”oh my god.” an exhale, drawn out and exhausted, from the very depths of your chest. ”satoru. toru. no. i’m not wearing it at all. this isn’t an auction.”

”but it could be,” he purrs, still on his knees. it makes him look a little bit disturbed. ”c’mon. why are you getting so shy? guess what — i’ll even settle for twenty minutes. just for you.”

oh, he’s just awful. you want so badly to be mad at him, and that teasing, smug, shit-eating little smirk of his — but you can’t. 

not when he looks so effortlessly pretty, bathed in the light of the sun, surrounded by a mellow glow so tender it makes him look something like an angel. not when he’s acting so characteristically himself, so stubborn and infuriating and entirely impossible not to love. 

another sigh. you’re a little surprised you have enough air left in your lungs to breathe it out, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re beginning to grow just a bit tired of the back and forth. ”i’m not shy,” you huff. ”i just don’t want to. it won’t look good on me, anyway.”

satoru blinks. genuine surprise shines in his eyes, for a second, like you caught him off guard. ”huh? of course it will. why wouldn’t it?”

a pause. gnawing at your bottom lip, you avert your gaze, trying to find the words. ”it’s just… tacky,” you settle on. ”it’ll look weird.”

”it won’t! you’ll look so cute!”

another huff, as your dispassionate, bored gaze meets his. ”and how do you know that?”

satoru's answer is instantaneous. ”you always look cute. just wanna see how you look in this,” he chirps, brandishing the outfit with barely contained excitement. thoroughly giddy. ”when i saw it, i knew it’d look adorable on you. and i’m never wrong!”

a soft pout plays at your lips, in the wake of his eager sincerity. barely noticeable, just a little embarrassed, but it’s there. and satoru’s seen it, finally — the road to victory. he knows he can win this, if he’s smart about it.

”i just wanna see you in it. just for a second. please? pretty please?” he tilts his head, tantalizing, showing off the blue of his eyes and the curl of his lips. ”then i’ll never ask you for anything again. promise!”

”okay, that’s a lie and we both know it.”

the grin that blooms on your lips is a mistake, you quickly realize, because satoru interprets any sign of joy on your face as positive approval. his determination grows.

”yeah, yeah… but i mean it! i won’t bother you if you just wear it once. just once!” he puts a single finger up, to emphasize the point. ”just wanna see my precious baby all frilly and cute. won’t you indulge me, oh my dearest?”

he’s grinning, now, all soft and teasing. it’s more breathtaking than he’ll ever understand. he’ll never even come close to understanding how gorgeous he is, like this — when there’s no one around to perform for, when he can just be himself. when it’s just you, and satoru, and the feeling of having all the time in the world.

(even if you don’t.)

and you know your face must be flushed, a soft cherry red, as your gaze falls to the floor. the heat on your cheeks and neck, the pitter patter of your heartbeat; you feel it all. 

and it’s embarrassing, to find yourself so fervently twisted around someone’s finger — to find that you don’t even really mind. being wrapped around satoru’s finger isn’t so awful, all things considered. it’s a scary thought, for sure, but he’d never abuse the privilege. probably.

— a sigh. 

you still don’t want to wear it. you really don’t. it’s just awful. tacky, and embarrassing, and overall unpleasant. 

… but if it’ll get him to stop nagging you like this… 

and if it’s just for a short while…

silence, only silence, spilling into the sunkissed air. outside your apartment, the sky melts into a buttery orange hue. an intense contemplation is etched into your eyes, and satoru takes note of it; opting to put the final nail in the coffin. his very last bid.

”fifteen minutes. then you’re —”

”ten minutes,” you cut him off. sounding just a tad exhausted — resigned to your fate. 

and satoru doesn’t even bother trying to hide his excitement. suddenly beaming, he shoots up to his feet, and it causes you to jolt. ”perfect,” he grins, holding the dress out toward you. a little too eager for your liking.

”— but seriously. i’m only wearing it once. never again,” you tilt your head. ”got it?” satoru just nods, happily, so excited he’s practically jumping up and down — and despite everything, you still can’t find it in you to be angry. 

he looks so earnestly giddy.

eyes brimming with suspicion and weariness, your hands reach out to take it into your arms; the puffy dress, the frilly headwear, and the black thigh highs. you’re surprised he didn’t invest in a pair of shoes, while he was at it. just to complete the set.

(you decide not to comment on it, knowing he’d have some poor, overworked shoemaker on the phone within seconds.)

”need my help putting it on?” he purrs, face suddenly very close to yours — and the sudden stutter of your heartbeat sparks a hitch of your throat. desperate to cover it up, you shoot him a hefty glare.

”oh, shut up,” you hiss, but satoru only grins wider. soft little giggles flowing from his lips, like a schoolgirl teasing her upperclassman. silly.

a heavy hesitance rests on your features, as you give the outfit another chance. judgemental eyes trailing over the bows and frills, giving it a thorough look, until your lips curl down into a soft frown. it’s not that bad, but…

”it’s kinda ugly,” you lie, decisively.

”really? i think it’s cute, though.” 

”yeah, ’cause you have no taste.” a click of your tongue. ”what’s so great about maid outfits, anyway? i don’t see the appeal.”

satoru smiles. carefree, amused — still very much teasing. ”well, we’re about to find out,” he chirps.

you give him a look, eventually giving way to a soft exhale. ”fine — but only ten minutes. at most.” a pause, as you stop to think. what else? ”oh, and no taking pictures.”

”— i’m taking pictures.”

…

the exasperated look you send his way doesn’t seem to phase satoru even in the slightest. he continues to smile at you, unbothered, soft around the edges, and you know you’re not winning this one either.

”… fine,” you sigh. ”but — not too many, okay? and you aren’t allowed to show anyone, either.”

”of course not,” he scoffs, almost offended. ”as if i’d let anyone else see you like that.”

stuck between feeling relieved and put off, you settle on simply letting it go. and satoru continues to speak, reassuringly, glossy lips shining in the sunlight as they part.

”rest assured, baby,” he hums, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. ”this stays between us. i swear on my honour.”

you snort. ”like you’ve got any of that.”

”mean. anyway — c’mon. i can’t wait any longer.” before you can think to protest, he’s ushering you away in the direction of the bathroom, big hands heavy on your shoulders as they push you. still hesitant, you make no move to resist.

(what have you gotten yourself into?)

with one final sigh, your fingers curl around the doorknob, outfit hanging off your arm. not before sending one final glance back at satoru, reinstating your conditions. ”just this once. then you’re selling it. or burning it.”

”yes, yes — you have my word,” he promises. before you can narrow your eyes, he pushes you forward, gently; bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. ”go on, i’m waiting!”

”yeah, yeah…”

the door closes behind you with a soft thud, and the reality of the situation begins to finally dawn on you. the maid outfit weighs heavy on your heart, but light in your arms — you gaze down at it with pure contempt. it’s not like you have a choice, though. satoru won’t let you wriggle away from this one. and maybe, just maybe, a part of you wants to indulge him, after all.

(his smile shone so brightly, in the light of the sun.)

and it’s almost cautious, the way you begin to dress yourself; first the thigh highs, black and silky, then the outfit itself. pulling it over your head, your arms sneaking through the openings. 

it’s a perfect fit. 

a second passes. you stop to think, brows furrowing in suspicion — did the little bastard measure you? just to make sure he got it exactly right? he has been rummaging through your closet more than usual, recently, but you didn’t think much of it. over the years, you’ve conditioned yourself not to question the things that he does. that sneaky, sneaky man.

after putting on the headwear, you finally lift your gaze, tentative and slow — to take a peek at your own reflection. the flush on your face stands out, a contrast to the black and white colour scheme of the outfit. 

and you can’t help but exhale, a little exasperated.

it’s so… frilly. there are frills on the sleeves, on the shoulderpads, on the skirt, on the hems… everywhere. little bows litter the surface of the smooth fabric, a big one attached to the collar, and several smaller ones across the sleeves. 

and as much as you loath to admit it — it is kind of cute. 

still, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re only embarrassing yourself. it’s hard not to think, when a maid outfit is staring into your soul through the mirror — and you just so happen to be wearing it.

(what the hell are you even doing?)

a low groan slips from your lips, and you crouch down, to bury your face in your knees. the flush of your cheeks is beginning to spread towards the tips of your ears, growing hotter by the minute. satoru’s about to see you like this, of all people. how on earth will he react?

(what if he thinks it looks weird, too?) 

”i’m still waiting!” a voice suddenly exclaims, sing-songy and sweet, and closer than you realized. has he just been standing there and waiting in silence, this whole time? of course he has.

”just —” you croak out, words a little strangled. ”just… give me a minute.”

satoru lets out a high-pitched whine, cheek pressed against the cold wood of the door. ”but i’ve been waiting so long already!” he complains, pouting, the urge to see you growing unbearable. impatience tugging at his heart, so excited he can barely pull himself together.

(all he can think of is you, you, you.)

curling up into a little ball, you attempt to swallow the bundle of nerves in the back of your throat — but that jittery, feather-light feeling of your heartbeat just won’t go away. it makes you feel a little paralyzed.

you're actually, genuinely, sincerely about to go show off a goddamn maid outfit. what the hell.

when you finally grasp control over your vocal cords and part your lips to speak, the voice that spills out into the air sounds more than a little meek. but you can’t quite bring yourself to care, overcome by a heart-tingling nervosity and the heat of your skin.

 ”… i don’t want to.”

satoru pauses. 

he can picture you, in his mind’s eye; the way you must look, right now. clad in frills and a cute little skirt, face flushed red and embarrassed, as you shift from foot to foot. and it takes concentrated effort, to bite back the coo that threatens to crawl up his throat — but he knows it’s still not too late for you to change your mind. if he wants to see you, he needs to be careful. so he tactfully opts not to tease you.

”come on, angel,” he soothes, instead. voice smooth like honey, like coffee with cream and too much sweetener. ”don’t be embarrassed.”

you stay silent, still attempting to suffocate the tinge of humiliation in the depths of your chest. so satoru continues. ”just come on out, hm? might as well get it over with. then you won’t have to think of it again.”

a moment passes.

”… do i have to?”

the corners of his lips curl up.

ah, you’re so cute. all embarrassed, almost childish, in the way you’re still trying to be difficult; and satoru just indulges you, all too eager to get you to show yourself to him. ”yes, you do,” he coos. ”be good f' me and come on out, okay?”

a couple moments pass. eerily silent, growing second by second. the only sound that fills the air is that of satoru’s soft breathing, the distant whirring of the ceiling fan.

until finally, he hears the squeak of the bathroom floor. you stand up, turning to glance at your reflection in the mirror one last time, before hesitantly reaching for the doorknob.

it’s slow, the way you open the door, agonizingly so — pushing at it slightly and dragging the movement out. and you can feel satoru’s presence, right behind it, as he takes a step back to give you space. when you finally step over the threshold, you adamantly refuse to meet his gaze.

(satoru’s breath hitches in his throat.)

there you stand, gaze stubbornly averted, expression flustered and mildly annoyed. cheeks dusted a dark cherry-red, that crawls towards the tips of your ears as you fidget with your frilly, oversized sleeves. they’re dressed in little bows, awfully cute, and so is the skirt — short, but not enough to expose the skin of your thighs above the thigh highs. you still squirm a little, thighs pressed together. 

and then, of course, the big bow on your collar to complete the look. pink in colour, a stark contrast to the whites and blacks of the remaining outfit.

after a moment passes with nothing but pure silence, your lips part to speak. doing anything you can to stop yourself from looking over at the man in front of you, afraid of what you’ll see. ”i don’t think it suits me,” is muttered, a tiny huff. ”… and i still don’t see the appeal, by the way.”

— but satoru doesn’t answer. 

he just stares. uncharacteristically silent, in a way you’re wholly unaccustomed to. enough so that you find yourself gnawing at your bottom lip, fidgeting with the hem of the skirt, hoping the smooth texture will soothe your nerves a little. the beating of your heart resounds in your ears, sending blood flowing through your veins with excited pumps.

the silence festers, and all you can do is let it grow, your nervosity thickening with it — until it’s just too much to bear. 

(ahh, you knew it. it really does look weird, doesn’t it? that’s to be expected. 

still, you can’t help but feel just slightly dejected.) 

”… why aren’t you saying anything?” 

the little mumble comes out sounding embarrassed, and maybe just a little defeated, too. but satoru doesn’t hear it. as your gaze falls on the man in question, slowly, you take in his expression with a frown on your face — and realize that he isn’t just keeping quiet. 

he’s completely stunned. 

no matter how hard you stare, you can’t seem to get a good read on his expression. he’s just standing there, face completely blank, eyes entirely obscured by the black of his shades. the light streaming in through the glass of the windows has shifted its course, falling away from the two of you — but you still see the vague, red tinge crawling up his neck. 

and as soon as you spot it, satoru begins his descent.

crouching down to the floor, silently, he brings his hands up to cover his face. feet against the ground with his knees folded, pressed against his chest, stilling as he inhales sharply. shades seated on top of his head, pushed up by his hands when he buried his face in them. a groan drops from his lips, muffled by the skin of his palms — but you can hear it clear as day.

”hold on, just… give me a minute…” he finally croaks out, words somehow tiny. almost shy. 

upon closer inspection, you realize your eyes weren’t deceiving you — there really is a red hue to his neck, one you aren’t used to seeing on him. strawberry-tinged dust, staining his smooth skin, the tips of his burning ears. satoru actually looks flustered, for once. and your heart can’t help but flutter.

— he thinks he might actually, genuinely die.

it’s a wonder, he thinks, that he managed not to fall to his knees the very moment he laid eyes on you. all dolled up; frilly and cute, in his own words, though they don’t come even close to properly describing how adorable you look right now. with your flushed face, shy eyes, and all those little frills and bows adorning your dress. rendering him speechless, clogging up his throat with pure unbridled love. a mouthful of honey, too sweet for even him to swallow.

god. god. he really, really needs to pull himself together.

crouched down like this, face hidden behind his hands, he can physically feel himself grow more and more flustered. senses invaded by the sound of his heartbeat, deep and visceral, until it’s all he can hear — he knew you were going to look cute, obviously, but he was seriously underestimating you. your cuteness is lethal. 

even just the sight makes him weak in the knees. even just the thought of you makes him feel a little like his heart is attempting to break out of his chest. hurling itself at his ribcage with ferocious resolve, like he could keel over and die of heart failure at any given moment. he’s pleasantly surprised that he’s managed to suppress the loud squeal his body keeps trying to let out, honestly.

and while satoru struggles with his deep, internal turmoil, all you can do is watch. looking down at him with wide eyes, as his skin flushes a bright pink, like little chrysanthemums blooming from his neck up to his ears. 

yeah, you think, there’s no doubt about it. satoru is flustered. it’s not a side of him you get to see very often, so you can’t help but be just slightly caught off guard. staring at him silently, until you snap out of it, eyes simmering with something soft and delighted.

he’s so cute.

(and maybe, just maybe — it makes you want to tease him, a little bit.)

so you crouch down, facing him with your knees against your chest, jaw resting on your crossed forearms as you gaze at him. he’s still not looking at you, face hidden behind his palms, shying away from your view.

and then you sigh. the sound catches his attention, soft — and just a little bit dejected.

”… you’re the one who wanted me to wear it,” your lips curl down into a pout, ”and now you won’t even look at me?”

satoru stiffens. 

(you sound sad. you sound disappointed.)

slowly, he parts his fingers, desperate to soothe you — blue eyes peeking out through the gaps, as if the sight of you could blind him. he then proceeds to move his hands, tentative, laboured, like he’s dragging heavy weights off his body. like it’s a struggle. 

with his face finally exposed, all flushed and pretty, bright azure eyes stare at you; brimming with pure adoration. 

satoru exhales, almost shaky. he has to take another moment to simply look at you, as if drinking in every inch of your expression. memorizing every corner of the face he’s grown to love so much.

a moment passes. then two.

then, he practically pounces on you — engulfing you like a tidal wave, trapping you in his big arms as they go to curl around your waist. shades falling off at the impact, hitting the floor with a soft thunk.

”you’re killing me,” he whines, loud and right by your ear. nuzzling into you, squeezing you like he’s a puppy with a chew toy. ”you’re so, so, so cute. d’you want me to have a heart attack?”

a hitch of your breath. that’s all you can manage, utterly failing to keep up with him as he presses you up against his chest. rocking you back and forth in his embrace, smearing open mouthed kisses across your skin; whining and murmuring about how adorable you look. 

a flurry of warmth, of love, of something a little too precious for words. something distinctly satoru, that makes you forget about everything else — as if the world stops spinning somewhere outside of his arms. as if that’s where you belong.

all you can do is indulge him. maybe you’re spoiling him a little too much, but it feels nice; letting him drown you in his overwhelming affection. the thought of creasing the dress doesn’t even seem to cross his mind, as he squeezes the life out of you.

evidently, satoru suffers from an acute case of cuteness aggression. 

”so adorable,” he murmurs, leaving wet kisses on your cheeks. his exaggerated mwahs make you feel just a tad shy. ”my little sweetheart. all dressed up for me.” 

squirming in his hold, he only brings you closer, smothering you in his warm embrace. the slightly erratic beating of his heart is all you can hear, with your cheek squished against his chest. arms keeping you nice and still, lips lingering over that one ticklish spot behind your ear. 

a little giggle slips from your lips, and satoru feels himself smile; wide and giddy, boyish and adoring. nuzzling into the comfort of your chest, soft fabric brushing against his skin, a low whine escapes his throat. ”can't take it. wanna put you in my pocket.”

”your pocket?” a grin blooms on your lips, words dripping with honeyed amusement. satoru grins right back.

”my pocket,” he hums, approvingly. ”you’re just so cute and small. gotta keep you close, so i don’t lose you.”

a huff, lighthearted. 

suddenly, the grip around your midriff tightens — and you’re hoisted up, stumbling a little as satoru lets go of you. still holding onto you by your wrists, softly, delicately, as if you’re made of glass. when you lift your head, all you can see is his satisfied little grin, and the twinkle of his eyes.

your heart flutters. 

satoru gazes at you, silently, still drinking you in. every second spent staring into the brightness of your eyes fills his heart up just a little more; colourful, heart-shaped candies, scooped up and poured into the hole in his chest. patching it right back up, so effortlessly sweet that it makes him want to pluck every star from the sky and offer them at your feet. 

”alright,” he breathes, taking a step back. breaking the delicate silence, a little dance between him and time. fingers still curled around your wrist. ”do a twirl for me.”

a humoured scoff. ”hell no.”

”aw, come on! you gotta pose for the photo, baby.”

before you know it, satoru’s got his phone out — and it’s aimed right at you. by the time you notice it, you’re fairly certain he’s already managed to snap a couple pictures. so all you can do is sigh, in faux exasperation.

”c’mon, c’mon,” he coos. ”give me a smile, pretty.”

a roll of your eyes, as you bite your lip to muffle a soft bout of laughter. it doesn’t really work. ”i’m good.”

satoru seems unaffected by your words, pulling back from your touch reluctantly; just so he can make a show out of playing the cameraman, switching between elaborate positions and taking pictures from angle after angle. somehow, you get the feeling he’s forgotten your request to keep the pictures to a minimum.

(he looks like he’s having fun, though. so you let it slide. just this once.)

”god. you’re way too cute for your own good, you know that?” he murmurs, leaning down to take another picture. and it flusters you, how smoothly the words slip from his lips, how it seems like he barely even has to think about them at all. 

it’s a little embarrassing, in a heart-fluttering kind of way. but you do your best to hide it.

”you’re a sap,” is all you say, soft smile playing at your lips. 

”and you’re adorable,” satoru grins. 

then he slips his phone into his back pocket, satisfied with the collection, and grabs your hand.

his fingers curl around yours, softly — and then he lifts it up. bringing it to his lips. they’re warm, as he kisses across your knuckles, the tips of your fingers. soft as a feather, tickling your skin. 

(as if he’s whispering psalms under his breath. as if he’s worshipping you.)

then he tilts his head, eyes gazing at you sweetly. sweeter than fresh mandarin slices, splotches of marmalade, his favorite caramel fudge. and his eyes crinkle, crow’s feet and dimples peeking out as he smiles, an easygoing kind of joy blooming on that pretty face of his — youthful, boyish. it suits him more than anything.

his voice comes out smooth, awfully coaxing. so very easy to give in to, paired with that breathtaking grin. 

”one tiny twirl?” he asks, politely.

he’s so annoying. 

(but you’re far too in love to say no.)

so with a single roll of your eyes, and a soft little scoff, you relent. indulging him once more, just one more time. just one little twirl.

satoru feels his heart squeeze painfully, deep within his chest, as he watches you spin around. skirt and frills ruffled by the movement. just once, a soft little twirl with your fingers intertwined. far too precious for his heart to take.

when you stop, just a tiny bit dizzy, he leans in, and the kiss he leaves on your forehead is soft. chaste, but it still pulls a blissful sigh from the back of your throat. satoru’s lips curl up against your skin, before he pulls back — eyes almost overflowing with affection.

”cutie.”

you blink. 

averting your gaze, flustering a little under the weight of his love-filled eyes, all you can do is emit a soft little huff. embarrassed, as it flows from your lips. but it only makes satoru’s smile grow further.

”okay, okay. you’ve had your fun.” you clear your throat. ”time’s up.”

suddenly, satoru’s eyes fill with something akin to dread — nose crinkling, just barely, a sign of his displeasure. ”noooo,” he whines, draping his arms around you. tugging you close. ”just a little more? please? pretty please?”

”nope! we said ten minutes. no take backs.”

”can’t i have an extension? since i’m your favorite?” satoru pouts, puppy dog eyes in full force. only this time, they don’t work as well as he’d hoped.

”nope,” you repeat, popping the p. ”sorry.” another whine buzzes right by your ear, and you smile. 

”and then we’re burning it.”

”noooo!” 

”sorry, but it’s gotta go.” you bite back a soft grin. satoru sounds agonized, voice dripping with grief, and it makes your heart dance with barely contained laughter.

”but then you can’t wear it anymore, baby…”

”that’s kinda the point, toru.”

”but you’re so cute in it,” he pouts, bringing you closer still. squeezing at your waist and rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. ”it’d be such a waste if you never wore it again, don’tcha think?”

he’s trying his best, you can tell — attempting to make you falter, coax you into wearing it just a little longer. but for today, you’re done indulging him.

”well, too bad.” nuzzling into his neck, your tone settles on a firm tilt; decisive, as you nip at his skin. just a little teasing. ”i said i’d never wear it again, and i meant it.”

a moment passes. maybe it’s the warmth of your lips on his skin, or maybe he can tell you aren’t budging — whatever the case, satoru finally seems to relent. an exhale tumbles from his tongue, deep and drawn out. ”fineee,” he drawls. ”i’ll just buy you a new one.”

”i won’t wear it. i’ll just get angry.”

”at lil’ old me? really?”

”really really,” you click your tongue. ”if you love maid outfits so much, why don’t you wear one yourself?” a beat. ”it’d look good on you.”

satoru perks up, suddenly. pulling away so his eyes can meet yours, bright and teasing, glazed over with something excited. ”oh?” he purrs. ”you wanna see me in one, huh? so bold, baby.”

a scoff slips from your lips, sharp but tinged with laughter. ”well, it’s only fair, right?” grinning up at him, your hand reaches out to smooth away his bangs. fingertips trailing across the expanse of skin, touch so very tender that his eyes flutter shut. ”i think you’d pull it off better than i ever could, anyway.”

a hum buzzes in his throat, seconds ticking by slowly; a dance with him and time. an attempt to prolong the softness of the moment.

”hmm… well, i’ll consider it.” just barely holding back a smile, he leans into your touch. ”you gotta wear it with me, though. we can buy a matching set!”

”that makes no sense,” you huff, with a raise of your brow. ”i’ve already worn it once, so next time, it’s gotta be all you.”

”sorry, baby, but you need to do it too.” he cradles you close, smoothing a palm down your spine, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. chest rumbling with the smooth timbre of his voice, words rich with teasing fondness. ”i’m too shy to do it by myself.”

and you really, really wish you could be angry with him — but it’s just impossible. 

satoru is just way too lovable, smile far too sunny and warm for you not to melt under. and his caress says more than words ever could, light and doting, careful and loving; like how a believer cups a handful of holy water. as if you could slip from his grasp at any moment, so he has to keep you extra close.

in the end, all protests and complaints die on your tongue. you only laugh, soft and breathy, filling the air with a fondness so palpable you can almost taste it. bordering on something close to a scoff, but never quite getting there. 

eventually, satoru does — begrudgingly — let you change out of the outfit. whining a little, sulking a tad, before brightening right back up again. like clockwork, the sun peeking out after a rain shower, the calm after the storm. always that same happy smile, wrapping you around his little finger.

satoru, in all his glory; your very own pocket of sunshine. annoying, stubborn, thoughtful — 

and yours, wholly and thoroughly.

(while you’re busy gazing at him adoringly, satoru grumbles under his breath. contemplation painted on his features, as his mind spins in circles. frills, bows, lace…

what kind of design would make him look the prettiest for you?)

[astralis-ortus]

thunders of rage

✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader

— even through the worst days, you're still my priority.

w.count → 1.1k genre → fluff, comfort warning → mild cussing, reader had a bad day and lashes out at chan :(, one time jump, kissies, chan referred to as chris, reader referred to as baby and babe a.n → based on this request! tysm for requesting♡ ⋆ see masterlist

the word terrible doesn’t even cover the magnitude of bad luck you’ve been facing for the past 10 hours.

from waking up late for work, buses not operating due to a strike and causing the subway being jam-packed, getting absolutely roasted by your supervisor for someone else’s mishap, having your work ruined by a coworker, to barely surviving the somehow never-ending rush hour while running only on a single piece of toast you had in the morning—you’re absolutely in no condition to socialize, even for the slightest bit.

“hey, babe,” your boyfriend’s cheery voice was the first thing you heard as soon as you stepped inside your shared apartment. noises coming out from the speaker on your living room were the thing you noticed next—and you swear you’re so close to losing your sanity.

“how was your day? i saw you barely ate your breakfast when i got back from the gym. are you okay?” oblivious to your nonexistent reply, chris had his eyes glued to the game while he continued to talk. “i haven’t decided what to make for dinner, by the way. do you—”

“can you decide that on your own?” you finally cut your boyfriend off, tone of your voice catching chris off guard. you’re not one to speak sharply—you know it might offend the other party even when you didn’t mean to, and chris knew that about you.

so when he heard that tone being used against him, chris knew something is absolutely wrong.

“let’s get ice cream, then?” chris immediately paused his game and shifted his focus onto you. he sees it now—the seemingly permanent subtle frown on your forehead, the nonexistent glint on the reflection of your eyes, the messy bun on top of your head.

something stresses you out. bad.

“sure.”

chris watched your exhausted trudge head towards the kitchen and grab a glass of water, contemplating the best course of action to get grumpy you to cheer up even just for a little. “and some pizza? or some dimsum? while we wait i’ll run a bath—”

“goddammit, chris!” the loud sound of cup slamming on the countertop startled chris out of his sentence, eyes wide when confusion, irritation, and hurt started to mix in his chest. “i just told you to decide it on your own! stop bothering me! do i need to make every decision for you? god!”

the room fell silent as chris tried to digest the words you aimed at him—but it felt like his head was on static. it only took him a second to get up and grab a hoodie, suppressing any reaction his instinct was telling him to do before he said something he would regret.

“i’m gonna go cool off,” chris quietly said as he headed towards the door, momentarily stopping to look at your tense back. he desperately wanted to stay—but he knows you needed time to be on your own.

“you should cool off too.”

and with that, chris left.

it’s been nearly two hours since chris left, and after a cup of warm tea and a long bath later, guilt finally caught you up in its tight grip.

you knew what you did towards chris was wrong—chris was simply trying to make sure he’s getting something you like because he knows only then your mood would seem to improve, but instead, all you did was accuse him of trying to bother you.

thoughts ran through your head while you stare at your boyfriend’s phone number, thumb hovering over the green button as you try to piece an apology in your head. you’re genuinely worried—it’s getting later in the night, and you still haven’t heard even a single peep from chris. you can’t help but feel worried.

but just as you were about to press the call button, your ears finally picked up the sound of your front door cracking open—chris is home.

“baby, i’m ho—”

chris stopped in his tracks as he felt warmth suddenly enveloping him—you’re hugging him tight, face buried on the span of his chest.

“i’m sorry,” you quickly whispered, barely allowing him time to process what happened within the span of 5 seconds. “i was wrong. i shouldn’t have acted like that. i just really had a terrible day, and—”

“hey, hey, hey,” chris couldn’t help but chuckle, finally wrapping his arm around you after he finally set down the plastic bags on the countertop nearby. “breathe, baby. slow down. you’re okay.”

peering up at chris, your guilt only seemed to dig its claws deeper when you saw his dimpled smile, beautiful eyes gazing right at you even after the sharp words you threw at him.

you felt like crap.

“i’m really sorry,” you croaked another apology, now near tears with the tip of your lips turned down. “i really acted like an ass back there but you still became the bigger person between us. i would’ve understood if you shouted at me, but—”

“baby,” chris shook his head as he gently cradled your face, pads of his thumbs running softly against your cheeks, “i would never forgive myself if i ever raised my voice at you, even during a fight. you’re my girlfriend—you’re someone i need to protect, and that’s what i’ll always try to do.”

the way chris loves you never fails to render you speechless.

some might say you’re the bigger romantic between the two of you—date plans, endless whispers of ‘i love you’s, constantly wrapping yourself around his arm. it’s all what people would see; but you know the nights chris would pull you closer when he notices your tossing and turning, allowing you to settle to the rhythm of his heartbeat. you know the days when he would buy you a single stem of the prettiest sunflower or the loveliest bloom of rose, all because you said you’ve always liked flowers but never the huge bouquet. you know how he would always walk on the side nearest to the road, and the way his arm never left the curve of your waist.

you know the subtle ways he remembers—his ways of saying i love you, and you would never change that for anything in the world.

“kiss me.”

a chuckle rumbles in chris’ chest to your request, beautiful twinkle in his eyes turning you warm and fuzzy. he then gently tipped your chin, whispering a soft ‘i love you’ as he brought his lips onto yours, relishing in the way swarms of butterflies burst under your feverish skin.

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[artsymeeshee]

Been in a weird headspace lately and I wanted to put my thoughts and feelings out to give a better idea of what's been happening. Putting under a read more/feel free to ignore.

I've talked about my struggles mentally on and off for a while and this one has been an ongoing thing for me and it's one I feel has begun to stick out more as time goes on.

I don't see myself as a good person. Most of the time I feel like I'm a bad person. And there's a lot of factors that play into this. One, is the things that I draw, which sounds absolutely crazy. Even I think it is as well.

It's no secret that my main priority has always been familial/platonic themes because that's how I've always viewed Gravity Falls as. And I know a lot of people do as well. It's one of the main themes of the show for crying out loud. And it's not to say I'm getting tired of it. That's a thing that has never crossed my mind, ever. It's more so along the lines of thinking it's too boring or falling back to that feeling of feeling bad because I don't make ship art. And I know I shouldn't feel bad about it and there's plenty of others that gladly do it. It's just one of those things that I'm not sure I'll really accept. And I'm always always grateful for the ones that tell me they appreciate all the family bonding/themes in my art. I guess the feeling of loneliness plays a part in that as well. I'll still make all the family things as long and as much as I can, but I won't deny the feeling of loneliness I get sometimes.

I do have that strong feeling that I am made to do something more and actually be someone and not the usual husk of a terrible individual I fall back on so many times. I won't deny anxiety and fear has taken a big hold on me lately. And it's also driven me to isolate myself in a sense and made me a cold person. I was so much more open years ago and now I've closed a good part of me away because... maybe I realized my "correctness" of myself being a bad person and who would even want to be around someone like that, so it's easier to hide. And I'm always afraid that one day I'll do or say something to no longer make me feel like I'm safe to approach. I've gone through so many people I've found that I've grown to like only for them to be an awful person and it sucks. I never want to be like that.

It's also been hard to not fall back to up and leaving. Whether that be online or real life. Last year was a time I fought with staying or leaving and it was always hard to decide to stay because leaving seemed like the only option I deserved.

I'm aware my ongoing battle with depression has hindered me a lot and it's a main factor for all of my negative feelings and thoughts about myself. And I don't want it to always resort to being the final say of who I am. I would like to find and show that part of me I feel people deserve to see.

I'm going to be honest, putting my raw emotions and thoughts like this is always scary. I'm sorry for the unexpected and serious post. I hoped I didn't make it too annoying or bring the mood down, but I needed to clear an ongoing struggle I've had for a long while. Thank you all for the constant support. Thank you for liking my silly, dumb, wholesome, sometimes feelsy art. Wanted to state another serious thing because life is so unexpected and you never know what will happen, but if something were to happen to me, I really can't explain how grateful I am for the love I've gotten from my time sharing my art. Thank you. Truly. 💜

[poetryvampire]

✨️trop men and if they could get you off based mostly on vibes ✨️

💕Now to level the playing field let's give a simple y/n on if they could get the job done during your first time together and the overall mood of the evening. Mildly nsfw (I'm not gonna get too detailed...unless 👀)

Adar💀 Yes. Woof, not to get too crass right off the bat but daddy is the name he earned so yes absolutely. Also brace yourself it will be kinkier than you think and it will awaken something in you. And it would start off painfully slow just easing you into it lightly. Seems like a great opportunity to try things you've been curious about but beware you're getting into like five kinks that haven't even crossed you mind before. One minute you're having a romantic candle lit dinner then Bam youre wearing a chain collar with his name on it.

Elrond 😇 Oh, god bless. No. Baby I'm sorry but no. That being said it would still be a great time with really positive vibes. But Elrond would get too in his own head thinking about options and the best 'plan of attack' to actually deliver. Plus he would play it super safe not wanting to off put you in anyway and thus would kill the passion a bit. Still would be the biggest sweetheart and over all give you a fun time. (Give him time to build his confidence though lotr Elrond Fucks for sure)

Halbrand 🐶 LISTEN Listen listen...No. Hear me out. I just-I feel it in my blood that this guy will rizz you so hard and talk such a big game and than when he time comes it's just ok at best. Like he's made at least one person come before and thinks he has cracked the code. Still his heart's (seemingly) in the right place and its pretty romantic over all. Lots and lots of cuddling.

Annatar 🐱 Yes. And it's amazing but the vibes are terrible. He gets way too intense too fast. He's the kind of guy to say some really weird shit during. Like not even anything dirty just waxing poetic about how you're part of each now and the bond of your bodies is inescapable even in death. And he waaay into talking about how you belong to him now and you're just like?? Is he just talking crazy in the heat of the moment or ?? Also no aftercare and he's 100% gone when you wake up.

Arondir 🏹 Yes. And it's Good but not as romantic as you were hoping. He's into you but Arondir def doesn't realize what a catch he is and is surprised that you're so here for him. Also buddy's got a lot going on so he's still gonna be pretty guarded emotionally. Still he's extremely respectful and such a good kisser like he's got your head spinning and you've barely started.

Elendil 🗡 No. But he tries hard and it's a great time. He's kinda got that big puppy Halbrand thing going on but like genuine. Def more into you than you are him. Elendil will rizz you with care. Pays very close attention to what you like/want. Even if it doesnt happen he's fine with talking about it, even makes a few light jokes at his expense. He's terribly good at putting you at ease. By the end of the night you're more smitten than you first thought.

Celebrimbor 💍 Yes. Are you kidding me?We're talking mastery, we're talking attentiveness, we're talking about a very smitten old man that's going to court you with his whole heart. The vibes are impeccable and he's going to make it known that taking care of you is his top priority. Additionally I can't explain why but you know this man's head game is god tier.

Gil Galad 🏵 Yes. Don't even get me started on how this man is gonna rock your world. The high king is a big guy so it's go big or go home when it comes to love and affection. He doesn't allow himself to pursue romance often but when he does he goes hard. In terms of the act itself and the amount of extravagance and detail he'd put into wooing you. Plus cmon you know he's stressed and pent up as hell. Brace yourself for being be absolutely worshipped All night. You're in for a wicked case of jelly legs and you're not going anywhere.

[vrystalius]

hi! Ive been reading ur fics for a while and i love them sm and hope ur enjoying ur break!

I was wondering if u could write about giyuu apologizing after an arguement?

once again i absolutely love ur fics lol 💗

Apologies

Giyuu apologising after an argument— how does he do it?

Pairing: married!Giyuu x gn!married!reader

“Why can’t you just talk to me? I feel like I’m the only one trying here!”

You immediately regretted those words the second they left your mouth. Washing out your mouth with soap won’t wash that expression of your husband from your face, him staring at you in both disbelief and deep guilt. Giyuu knows that he can come off as cold or even uncaring, even to you. It’s never intentional but rather a terrible habit he seemingly can’t get rid off and it keeps forcing him to push people away from him. That’s why it may seem he doesn’t try hard enough to express his thoughts, his feelings.

Despite knowing that you will be understanding and listen to his worries, hold him while you kiss his face until he finally smiles again, all those fears and thoughts that dwell on horrific events he experiences on a daily gone in mere seconds.

So, who should apologise first? Giyuu, or you?

Since your husband left your house after the argument, probably wanting to take a walk or get some fresh air, you had time to think about what to do to apologise to him. Directly talking to him might scare him off and result into him being too intimidated to answer or scurry off to hide somewhere else to avoid you altogether. A letter could work, right?

Composing and thinking about every word, every sentence helped you sort your thoughts out and properly speak about the argument from your perspective while also staying respectful to his own view of the issues. You just hoped that your crow was awake to deliver a letter to your husband. If not, you’ll leave it in your bedroom for your husband to find and read quietly while you waited on him somewhere else.

But before you could prepare a method for Giyuu receiving your letter, Kanzaburo, your husband’s elderly crow, weakly called out to you and ruffled his feathers while resting on your windowsill. A letter was secured around his neck. Gently, you took the bird and put it to rest on your lap, giving him well-deserved scratches while gently unravelling the letter from his neck. It was written by Giyuu, obviously, but before you could read, the door to the room opened and your husband stood in the doorframe, staring down at you in surprise. He eyed you, then the letter in your hands.

“Have you.. read it?”

“No, Kanzaburo just delivered it.”

“Ah.”

You could see the gears shifting inside his mind. He probably overestimated the senior crow and thought the letter would be delivered faster. You scratched the crows head and glanced back to the paper in your hand.

“Should I read it? Or do you want to say everything you wrote down to me personally?”

Giyuu silently averted his eyes, his shoulders sagging and a small frown spreading on his face. He was avoiding to look into your eyes.

“No. I’ll be in the bedroom.”

You watched your husband slowly close the door, leaving you alone with his elder companion. While the crow was contently preparing to nap on your lap, you opened the letter.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳༚

My dearest,

I am sorry. I know I’ve caused arguments again and again because of my silence and my behaviour over all. You feel like you’re the only one trying in this relationship and I’m sorry for that. I thought that if I stayed silent it would be easier for the both of us but that is clearly not the case. I should’ve realised much sooner, but instead I am only doing it now.

I am just too scared to scare you off with my problems and issues since you have your own, just like everyone else does. You are important to me so you always are my priority. My thoughts and feelings can wait, so I stay quiet.

You deserve better than the way I am treating you, you deserve so, so much better. You’ve been patient with me, you stayed with me for so long, through good and bad times. I don’t deserve your love.

I want to do better and I will. Please have a little more patience with me. Please.

I love you, I am sorry that I haven’t said it enough times. I am sorry if you don’t believe me.

Yours forever,

Tomioka Giyuu.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳༚

💠

Thank you so much for requesting!! I’ve been seeing you interact with my posts pretty often so thank you for all your love and support <33 I’ll happily write more requests for you in the future if you liked this one!

Also, I haven’t forgot about Kyojuro’s thighs request :,) I started writing it and it’s halfway finished— my NSFW meter just ran out and I started writing this instead XD

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves, physically and mentally <3

[lsofial]

Heya ^^ I'm wondering which jjk men do you think r dom/sub/switch?

Hard Doms

They don't make love. They fuck. They want complete control over you and won't tolerate any attempts at taking it from them - if you dare trying, they will punish you harshly. Definitely the type to fuck your throat, spank you, grab your neck, push your face onto the pillow. You always find yourself begging them to stop but they never care and just keep using you over and over again, like the insatiable primal creatures they are. Their only goal is to use your body so as to make themselves feel good and satisfy their most primitive and animalistic desires. They don't care about your pleasure and they don't care about satisfying you. They don’t seek connection, they don’t want to open up to you and if you tried to know more about their private and/or professional life, they would definitely tell you that you’re just his personal sex toy, so, you should know your place. They would advise you to stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. To them, your opinions are worth nothing, unless requested by them. They will manhandle you on the bed like a ragdoll and do whatever they want to. It doesn’t matter if you try to take control or if you become bratty, because they know it will always end the same way – you under them, crying, pleading them to stop while they grin menacingly, thrusting into you at an animalistic pace. Definitely the type of men to say something like “you should’ve thought about that beforehand. Now take your punishment like the good girl you are. If you cum, before I give you permission, you’ll have to handle this cock for another hour”. They are real menaces; these men will drive you absolutely insane. The mind games they play with you will make you go crazy. You will be having sex over 4 to 7 times a day (depending on their availability). They are absolutely the worst boyfriends, on this list (or husbands, if you, somehow, manage to marry them), and will be terrible parents (very neglectful, demanding and abusive), but will give you the best sex of your life. With these men you have to stay safe - use protection because they don’t care about getting you pregnant. It’s your problem and not their fault. You will, most likely, end up raising the kid alone and if you don’t have a consistent sex routine with them, they will find someone else who will fulfill their needs. Toys hurt their pride. If you use them, these men will punish you. They will overstimulate you with them until you can't feel your legs anymore, fuck you dumb on their cock and after you cum, they will say something like "why do you use this, if you can't even handle my cock inside you for 10 minutes? Aren't you stupid..." They will fuck you anywhere, anytime. You belong to them and they will do whatever they want whenever they want. If you’re not available, they will make sure you become available. Menacingly too good at dirty talking. They will say the most vulgar things to you, while looking into your teary eyes, with a grin on their faces, fucking you roughly, as if their survival depended on it. They have great durability, so they prefer sex with multiple rounds and can last all night long if they want to. Sessions with these men are very rough. They will wear you out and rearrange your insides. They will make you cry, salivate, moan and orgasm multiple times, throughout the entire deed, leaving your body extremely sore. They don't give a damn about aftercare. You can take care of yourself. - Ryomen Sukuna, Zenin Toji, Zenin Naoya

Soft Doms

They don't fuck. They make love to you. Very slow gentle passionate lovers who are eager to make you feel good. These men have your pleasure placed as their top priority, always asking you for your consent, wanting to know if it feels good, if you want a faster or slower pace, if you want them to go deeper, if you want a different angle or position, if you want them to pull your hair, if you want them to say dirty things to you, if you want to be fondled or kissed somewhere, if you want them to use a toy on you, etc. These men seek connection - emotional and spiritual. They trust you, they open up to you, they let their walls down and warmly invite you in. They aren’t making love to a random person. They are making love to the only one they want to spend their lives with. The most romantic men ever, kissing you while making love to you, staring into your eyes, admiring your beautiful body under theirs, watching how it gracefully moves along their pace every time they thrust into you, while whispering how good you feel and how much they love you, into your ears. These men usually have a busy schedule so you won’t be making love as often as you’d both like, however, expect doing it at least once or twice a day. They definitely are the best boyfriends/husbands and will be the best parents. They don’t want you to get pregnant because of their risky professional field and busy schedule, but if it happens, they will be thrilled and will help you in whatever way they can (by studying everything about babies and how to properly care for them, reading material on how to educate and bond with children, making sure you have everything you need in your maternity bag and knowing in which ways he can help before and after the baby is born). They will be there for you and your child and probably will want more kids, after the first one arrives. In case your sex life is affected by the birth of a child (or some other circumstance), they will handle this, just the same way they handle any other problem or obstacle in your relationship – by discussing it with you, respecting your boundaries and finding a common ground for both of you to stand on, working, as a team, on a solution that will make you both happy, overcoming every challenge, as a healthy and strong couple. Kings of aftercare. They always want to know if you enjoyed it and/or if you want a round 2. These men will dote on you and help you with whatever you need (cuddles, towels, shower, tissues, food, etc.) They will definitely make sure you know and you feel all the love they have for you. - Kento Nanami, Hiromi Higuruma, Okkotsu Yuta, Itadori Yuji, Fushiguro Megumi, Atsuya Kusakabe, Geto Suguru

Subs

They prefer you to have control over everything, so you can set up your own pace and do whatever you want to them. Watching you working so hard, trying to reach your orgasm turns them on even more. They always wait for you to have the initiative and to make the first move. They enjoy grabbing and groping your hips, butt and chest, while you ride them. They are lazy lovers who prefer laying back, either looking at you, or having their eyes closed shut, savoring every second, while moaning. Sometimes you wonder how these strong masculine men end up looking so frail and desperate beneath you. They think you look so pretty on top of them - it's the only moment when they can freely scan through you as if they were conducting an extensive and thorough analysis on every detail of your body, wondering how lucky they are for having been the one to snatch your precious heart. For the most part you will be on top, having the exclusive power to decide whatever happens, however, there will be times when they will grab your hips and thrust deep into you, even though they're on the bottom, either helping you adjusting to a different pace or angle that feels even better or, sometimes, trying to dominate you from the bottom, showing you how they want you to make love to them and attempting to have some control, working with you so as to reach your climax. They may ask you to do things for them (speeding up the pace, fondling a sensitive spot, using a certain toy, stimulating yourself, while they watch, etc.), will say dirty things to you, and want you to do the same. They may be subs, but they definitely want kids of their own, some day. These men will surprise you, though, because they will be great parents and, despite considering and realizing parenting to be a huge responsibility, they will go above and beyond to make sure they support you and your child. They will definitely want more kids after the first one arrives, too. With these men, you will have to start communication first, so if any obstacles arise, you’ll have to be the one having the initiative to bring the issues to the table. A relationship with these men is very complicated because they don’t openly communicate with you and that’s something that won’t change. It’s ingrained in their character. But if you enjoy making the first move and encourage them to speak their mind after said move is made, things will work a lot smoother. They do trust you, but their natural impulse is to not speak their mind, unless it is clearly requested. They are the type of men to be emotional but not show it, so sex is a way to connect with you, allowing emotions to overflow and transcend a realm beyond the physical one. Good aftercare. May not go above and beyond, like the soft doms, but will make sure to cuddle and have a bath with you after. - Kamo Noritoshi, Inumaki Toge, Kamo Choso

Switch

These men are mysterious and unpredictable. You never know how they truly feel or what they truly want, but if they feel like it, they will open up to you. Most of the times, they will either be controlling hard doms, or challenging bratty subs, however, on rare occasions, they will be soft doms, seeking a deeper emotional connection, wanting to make sure you know they love you, even though, they don't always say it or show it. When they feel like being hard doms, they will definitely assume the traits mentioned earlier in the "hard dom section", because, to them, seeing you all messed up boosts their ego and makes them go even more feral on you. When they are subs, they aren't romantic, but obnoxiously bratty, defying you by saying you can do better, refusing to do whatever you tell them to, laughing on your face saying things like "if you want it, do it yourself", "you want me to use this toy? Make me, I dare you!", while giving you the biggest, proudest and brattiest smirk ever. They are definitely the type to say "can't you do it any faster?", "is that all you've got?", "you're all bark and no bite. How disappointing". Sometimes, they start as subs, but, eventually, get bored and decide to take control and when they do, you already know his primal hard dom side will give you the hardest time of your life, on the mattress. Being a soft dom is a rare occurrence, but when it does happen, they prefer to show you they love you, rather than telling you. Their eyes, filled with desire and desperation, will be staring intensely into yours. They want your souls to be entangled in each other forever and will be extremely soft and romantic in every thrust, smiling affectionately at you, wanting to know if you're feeling good. It may not look like it, but they are the most emotional soft doms ever. Pregnancy and kids are a very uncomfortable topic for these men. If they could, they would teleport out of the discussion, instantly and the only reason they don’t do it, is because they know it will be an even bigger drag to listen to you starting a drama over it, later. They are a bit clumsy and forgetful in regards to protection, so it will be up to you to make sure they use it, otherwise, you will have to take the pill. They don’t imagine themselves being parents but, if that happens, they are definitely not having more kids. Sloppy aftercare. You're the one who's supposed to cuddle them afterwards. When they're hard doms, they usually don't pay any attention to aftercare. They will just have a bath and get ready for whatever is on their schedule next, while you will have to handle yourself. On rare occasions, they may recognize they might have been a (gigantic) bit too rough on you and may help you clean yourself and have a bath with you. They don't enjoy cuddling too much and think it's a drag, but will do it, nonetheless, just to make you happy. When they're subs, they will expect you to have a bath with them, you will have to be the one cuddling them and you will also have to be the one getting something for both of you to eat (in case you don’t, he will throw a tantrum). When they're soft doms, they will have a bath with you and definitely will need your cuddles after. During aftercare, they will be romantic for a very short period of time (confessing their feelings for you), while staring deeply into your eyes. However, almost as soon as the words escape their mouths, they start realizing they're actually opening up to you and being vulnerable. They know they messed up. They will instantly become stoic, concealing their true thoughts and feelings, seemingly apathetic towards everything, once again. You stop being able to see any sign of genuine emotion. You can’t help yourself but think it’s as if you were now standing beside a completely different man. It doesn't matter if you tell them they can open up to you, they still won't do it, even if you manage to somehow earn a tiny bit of their trust. - Gojo Satoru, Kinji Hakari, Hajime Kashimo

Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you enjoy this post! I know it's quite long, but I think I managed to highlight the most important topics, that people are, usually, the most curious about.

[wyvernest]

hello! i absolutely love your writing could i request smth like fem! reader with miguel where she buys a suggestive nightgown/lingere set or outfit for him and how he’d totally melt when he sees it? thank you :))

for your eyes only

pairing: miguel o'hara x wife!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, established relationship, piv, creampie, unprotected sex, spanking, slight body worship, tiddie sucking?

summary: miguel has been overworking himself, and you buy a new lingerie set to help him release some stress

divider by @cafekitsune <3

You and Miguel are on a vacation.

He had been more than stressed lately with the aching duties of leading the spider-society, but the very last thing he intended to do was to neglect you.

So naturally, he thought of ways to spend more time with you, yet every time you two would finally get into the mood, right when he was about to make you his all over again, an anomaly or a system malfunction at HQ would interrupt you, leaving you with your heart racing and him with terribly uncomfortable blue balls.

He had had quite enough.

He surprised you with the tickets several weeks ago, on one of those rare occasions on which you two happened to be alone in the intimacy of his house.

To say that you were overflowing with joy is an understatement. He assured you that while he is gone, Jess would remain in charge so things don't go downhill.

So now, here you are, packing for a long-awaited, honeymoon-replica with your beloved husband. You feel enormously grateful for his effort to make you a priority, even more so when you remember how anxious he was about abandoning his job for a while.

You want to make it worth it.

You want to make him forget about all the stress and worries. You want to be there for him, to help him, to comfort him,

to pleasure him.

After assessing all options, you decide you're more than happy with the results.

"What's gotten into you?" he inquires playfully in between your hurried, passionate kisses as you drag him into the hotel room, excitement evident in your movements. 

He's clearly more than pleased to see you clinging onto him like a lifeline, his ego undeniably boosted by the desperate make out session you just pulled him into right in the hallways. The knowledge of still being able to drive you crazy so effortlessly makes him smirk into the heated kiss.

"Told you." you gasp shallowly, parting from his swollen lips as you pull at his shirt, seeking to take it off. "I have a surprise."

Taking the hem and tossing the shirt out of your way, he bends down slightly, his massive shoulders bringing his shadow upon you, intimidating but so hot.

"Tell me about it." His voice is an octave lower, deep and provoking. You have to actively fight your brain from melting into lust and hunger for him in order to remain conscious and stick with the idea.

"No need.", you push at his biceps and he complies, backing off, an eyebrow raising in slight confusion mixed with surprise.

"You just have to take a shower first."

"Ah." his mood shifts abruptly, his head tilts to the side as if to check if he really needs one.

You can't help but burst into a hearty chuckle. "No, not because of that! I just need you away for a couple of minutes."

Your eyes squint, suggestive. He doesn't fail to catch on to your request, the ideas of what you might be up to already taking form in his mind, making his eyes shine a dark red glow.

Stepping back, he heads to the bathroom, turning back to you before shutting the door.

"Be quick. I won't be long.", He warns, almost threateningly, and you can't stop yourself from growing wet at the thought that he would take you the second he's out, no matter if you're ready or not.

Coming back to your senses, you hear the water running in the shower, yet sense no movement. You know he's listening in, but you couldn't care less. Enhanced senses or not, he wouldn't possibly be able to tell that you're rushing to the luggage to snatch the lingerie set you brought just by the shuffling alone. 

Or can he?

You're fast to discard your evening outfit, slipping into the set. Glancing at yourself in the hotel mirror, a nearly evil smirk takes over your face imagining his reaction. Adjusting everything in place, you look at the bright red straps around your thighs, ever slightly too tight, just to make the flesh look plumper, ready to pop out of its confinement; you look at the thin panties, inviting and bold, leaving your ass bare for his hands to play with. And finally, the pièce de résistance, the bow tie holding your breasts together, the only thing covering them.

Fixing your hair and doing the final touches to the bed, turning the lights off and lighting a couple candles, you take your place on the soft mattress.

You feel your heart racing like it's your honeymoon night, your nervousness not aided by the sound of the water tap falling silent and of him stepping out of the shower.

It only takes him a few seconds to tie a towel around his hips and push the door wide open, the bright light creeping into the room through a barely-there cloud of condensation.

The moment he spots you, he stops dead in his tracks.

"Ay, mierda.." He mumbles, more to himself, his eyes scanning your body up and down, from head to toe and back.

"So beautiful," he concludes, tone heavy with need as he approaches you slowly, eyes still not meeting yours. "And all mine."

Getting up from your spot, you meet him halfway, kneeled on the edge of the bed. Your hands fly to his massive shoulders, moving up his neck to tangle in his damp hair. He grabs your waist, the heat of his palms on the bare skin of your middle sending shivers up your spine like it's your first time together.

Nearly getting lost in the sight of him, half naked with droplets of water running down his chest, you bite your lip, breathing quickened.

"What did I do to deserve this, hm?" He whispers, eyes half lidded and voice low and sleepy. "Eres demasiado buena para mí." (You're too good to me)

He leans closer, his hot breath fanning your face.

You find it hard to gather yourself and focus on what he's saying.

"You've been working so hard lately." your voice drips into an exaggerated praise which he drinks in with the most obvious interest. "Coming home late, barely getting any time to yourself." 

He leans even closer, keen on listening to you.

"You hold it all together so well," you mirror his own past voiced complaints. "You deserve so much more than a vacation."

"¿Ah, sí? ¿Cómo qué?" (Oh, yeah? What do you mean?). He insists smugly, one inch away from tasting your lips.

He wants to hear you say it.

You take his hands from your waist and pull them to slide upwards; he doesn't waste a second before he places them on each side of your breasts, pushing them together softly.

"Anything I can give you." You speak quietly, toying with the superficial knot of his towel. He closes the gap between you, his lips moving against yours with unmatched passion and want, his breathing already hot and laboured. His bare chest rises and falls against yours as he finally pulls away only to get rid of the cloth around his waist, flashing you with the image of his hardening fat cock.

Towering over you, he slowly and carefully pushes you to lie back down on the bed, crawling on top of you.

His mouth latches on to your pulse point, kissing and nibbling the sensitive skin, while his warm hands travel up and down your body appreciatively. 

Your eyes roll back at the feeling of his cursory palm caressing your thighs, the curve of your hips, up to the soft mound of your tit, all the while his lips remain on your neck.

"Miguel-!" You moan mindlessly, and his cock twitches on your thigh, hard and heavy.

Suddenly, his hands grip your waist firmly and he flips you over so that you're on top of him. 

You brace yourself on your elbows on either side of his head, arching your back. He plants a wet kiss on the tops of your breasts, still concealed by the red bow, as one of his hands moves to deliver a slap to your ass.

The hot palm maps your body like a vice, you feel as if the skin will burn and sting once his touch departs from you. He shifts and presses his lips to yours, indulgent and tender. It’s different, not nearly as greedy as before, it’s more intimate, as if you’re trading parts of your souls to each other, never to return them nor want to do so. You arch against him, crushing your chest onto his.

The second you part from him with a gasp, blissed out with the taste of him still on your lips, you shiver at the sight of his half lidded eyes, dark cocoa alight with the crimson tide you know so well, full of need and desperation.

His hands come up to your front, pulling the tie loose with a dumbfounded, sleepy smirk.

Your breasts bounce free from the blood-red ribbon. His broad hands slide to your back, pulling you into him as he takes one tit in his mouth, sucking and kissing, groaning with every breath he stops to take. You feel each sound he lets out, vibrating deep in his chest.

Breathing shallow and quickened, you let your pelvis lower until the girth of his hard cock brushes against the silky fabric of your thong. 

His hips buck into you reflexively, eliciting a soft whimper out of you. 

Detaching from the tender flesh of your breasts, he pulls you down to taste your lips once more, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat with the way he swallows every whisper of his name that rivers into the kiss.

Unbeknownst to you, he hooks his fingers around the elastic straps around your ass and thighs, pulling on the strings only to release them, making them whip your skin with a loud smack.

You arch your back further into him, grinding into his erection in the process. He grunts abruptly, no longer able to hold back.

With expert ease, he drags at the straps holding your panties, ripping them at the joints. Before you can yelp and protest, he pushes the mushroom head of his already leaking cock into your folds.

You clench at the contact, anchoring your hands on his stout shoulders as you sink onto his dick. He watches your greedy cunt swallow him, inch by inch, until he bottoms out, his pubes brushing right against your clit.

You start rolling your hips, feeling his whole dick slip out half way only to push back in against your guts, grazing every mind-numbing nerve in its wake. You’re utterly delirious, and so is he.

His vision targets your breasts, softly swaying in his face with every mount of your body on his. He stills you momentarily, his massive arms sheathing you in a spine-tingling hold. 

Muffled, pleased hums resonate in his chest, echoing against yours as he squeezes you into him, your tits pressed flush right above his collar. You let a moan crawl out of your throat as he plants rushed, desperate pecks on every spot he can lay his mouth on; your neck, your shoulders, the tops of your breasts. 

The heat of his profound exhales washes over your skin, kindle to a fire. Heedlessly, you arch your back into his hold, pushing yourself into him, your body marinated into his arms the way he loves so much. He thinks he might come right then and there, no friction, no nothing. Just the feeling of you, soft and tender, mollifying further into his possessive touch with every kiss he places on you.

But soon the need for more friction gets the better of him as he starts thrusting into you from below.

You let yourself fall into his forceful arms as he drives his cock in and out of your weeping cunt, face contorting into pure pleasure, eyebrows furrowed and fucked-out eyes squinting.

The bed squeaks under his weight, the bedframe hitting the wall with ever violent push of his cock into you. You feel his abdomen flex against your stomach, his biceps pulling you impossibly close against his feverish skin.

Burying his head in the crook of your neck, his pants turn into moans as his thrusts lose rhythm and strength. It's the hottest thing that's ever reached your ears, and you moan in tandem with him as you reach your climax. 

When he doesn't stop, your whole body starts burning, a blinding firework scattering on the sky. 

Pushing hard into you, as deep as he can be, with a pained, breathless groan, he comes inside your still fluttering pussy. His cock pulsates into you, staining your insides white, the feeling of his warm seed short circuiting you in an aftershock. 

Both of your heads nestled into each other, feverish bodies moulded together in a suffocating embrace, his lips start ghosting over your neck, a silent praise for taking him so good.

"You should wear this more often, mi vida." he breathes into your mouth.

"I would, if you hadn't ripped it." You tease back, evidently turned on by his antics.

"No te preocupes. (Don't worry.) I'll buy you more."

a/n: yes im obviously in love with the vacation with miguel trope, hope you like this<33 it turned out longer than expected

[radiocrypt-id]

The bad kids haven't really looked too closely at the Rat Grinders (meta wise I know it's a commentary on different play styles and how shitty xp farming is and how op players/parties can become by doing the bare minimum if they put in the time while everyone else plays the damn game) but I find the split perspective problems absolutely fascinating. I can't wait for the Bad Kids to look at the Rat Grinders with envy and anger that the Rat Grinders got to live a normal highschool life without all this insane danger and experience being a teenager without it being the end of the world for them. Right now they just hate the Rat Grinders energy and are matching it back (which is a very high school thing to do. To have beef with a whole other group of kids and not even know why but you'll die on this hill because they started shit first)

Because to the Rat Grinders, from a purely outside perspective, the Bad Kids are fucking monarchs of the school, right? They skipped classes, ran around town, fought people, got arrested, hung out with a big devil? Every new staff member came at their recommendation? One of them has both her dads working at the school?? The destroyed school property, got teachers killed, straight murdered the coach? These fucking kids run around and are apparently scott-free? because the principal liked their chaos enough to let it go and help them avoid the police? To the Rat Grinders, the Bad Kids are untouchable. They're exempt from the law. They're liars, cheats and need to be humbled. It's unfair. From everyone elses perspective, it really does look like the Bad Kids have been given crazy favourtism.

Meanwhile, all of the Bad Kids have died at least once. They've been irreparably changed and are in a constant state of fight or flight. They assume everything is dangerous and anyone might be an enemy because for two goddamn years that was the exact case! They couldn't trust any adult first year! Literally anyone could have been infected with Kalina second year! who knows what happened with the Night Yord but I fucking bet they had issues with Yorbies pretending to be helpful just to kill them! Everyone, for two years, has been out to get them! They can't even sleep! And now they have to grind so hard or they fail. Adaine has a seemingly full time job after school basically every day because she literally can't afford to live? Fabian has taken on the most physically strenuous classes and sport one dude could and has dreams of also being a social legend because he's fucking lonely in that big house and he just wants to fill it. If anyone in the party fails or dies Riz is shit out of luck and wont ever get into a university? He so desperately wants his friends with him so he's working over time and ignoring his limits to make up for his party members not caring about the future. Fig is going through the strangest arc I've ever seen in my life? she's hard avoidant and taking three classes, so a 250% work load, because she's desperate to fill her time so she can't think about all the other work she has to do that if she ignores too long could crush her under the debt of her band from her label, or how alone she feels without her girlfriend around. Gorgug is so desperate to prove himself that he's doing four years of school work in one, trying to play catch up and also prove himself at the same time, he's taking it all so seriously but also is so fucking tired. And Kristen. Mother fucking Kristen "hey girlie" applebees. Expected to dedicate her life to a god with no direction, with the weight of failure being her gods death, while also being in school and also at your friends insistence needing to run for student body president and getting your priorities so mixed up and being completely left behind by her peers who didn't have to rework their entire world view and understanding of life in the span of a few months every few months.

The Bad Kids are in a terrible place. They're suffering. I want them to just say it out loud, to stop pretending they have it handled and are fine. I want Riz and Adaine to yell at the party to get their shit together. I want Fabian to tell someone how alone and abandoned her feels. I want Kristen to scream at Cassandra that she agrees, that it's not fair, she's just a kid, how could she be enough all on her own with no help? It sucks a god can only rely on a child, for both the god and child! They're both suffering from this arrangement! Neither is happy! I want Gorgug to beat the shit out of Porter with his inventions and rage at the same time, to make the best shit and use it in the most stunning way anyone has ever seen. I want Fig to finally get some freaking help, to have her teachers and parents reach out in a meaningful way and stop telling her to figure it out alone because clearly the pressure is too much for her to handle and she's drowning. I want someone, anyone, to look at the Bad Kids and tell them to stop. To help them. But I know it wont be that easy. I know it'll be the Rat Grinders yelling at how unfair it is the Bad kids get everything while they're on the sidelines that'll get under the Bad Kids skin and they'll yell about how awesome they are and that they didn't ask for any of this shit to happen to them and to fuck off. I know it's gonna get so much worse before it gets better. I know they'll figure it out and that it'll be a painful road there.

[calliesmemes]

EVEN MORE ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS FROM AROUND THE INTERNET, including quotes from Tumblr, Pinterest, TikTok, and X (formerly known as Twitter), for when a muse wants to lighten up the situation at hand.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   It’s sea shanty time once again my fellow bastards of the ocean! ”

“   Partner, I reckon that I ain’t been feeling very yeehaw lately. ”

“   I don’t study; I consult the lore. ”

“   Yeah, I understand women — they all want daggers and swords. It’s all quite simple, really. ”

“   Lord forgive me but I may have to make a nonessential purchase. ”

“   Those are bold words for someone in stabbing range. ”

“   Yes I’m a gatekeeper and a hater. I’m also God’s most favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. ”

“   My primary motivations are fear, spite, and aesthetic longing. ”

“   Man — if I had a sword, I wouldn’t be worried about shit. ”

“   It’s not blood that runs through these veins but glitter gel pen ink. ”

“   If I was in a Jane Austen novel, I would be the one sent to the seaside for my health. ”

“   Half of me is a hopeless romantic, and the other half of me is … well … an asshole. ”

“   I am the nicest, sweetest, most rage-filled person I know. ”

“   I hope I give off the vibe to all animals that I am their ally and their friend. ”

“   I see you’re paying attention to someone who is not me. Why is that? ”

“   Normalize letting me talk without making any sense. ”

“   Don’t care, didn’t ask, plus my psychic visions have predicted the outcome of this encounter. ”

“   I could be so much worse. For example, I could start acting like my father. ”

“   Sorry for acting so strange and irregular; It will happen again. ”

“   i love sitting in my room.....alone....a girl in her cave....scheming and plotting and drinking tea. ”

“   These man made horrors are beyond YOUR comprehension. I get it though. ”

“   I’m a goth girl on the inside. On the outside? A father figure. ”

“   I don’t need to face reality; I’m not just that type of girl. ”

“   DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A frickle-frackle? ”

“   I’m about to cha cha real smooth off a fucking cliff. ”

“   Sorry I told you about my trauma. Do you still think I’m hot? ”

“   My priorities aren’t straight and neither am I. ”

“   I have felt permanently guilty for no reason since I was like eight years old. ”

“   Of course I have a lot of pent up rage, you fool! I’ve been the same height since I was twelve years old! ”

“   I was born for shock value. ”

“   Good morning! God has let me live another day and I’m about to make it everyone’s problem. ”

“   Oh, I slept miserably because I was tormented by terrible visions all night. I hope none of them were prophetic! ”

“   Be the surreal nonsense that you want to see in the world. ”

“   Being smart has never stopped me from being a complete fucking idiot. ”

“   My hobbies include knowing things and being right. ”

“   This is good advice, but don’t tell me what to do. ”

“   I hate the idea of authority. What the fuck is someone being superior to me? Bitch I’m gonna take your kneecaps. ”

“   Stop forgiving my crimes! I worked so hard on those! ”

“   My hobbies? Uhhhh, symbolism mostly. Metaphors and implications and the like. ”

“   I may not have any braincells, but I make up for it by having many heart cells. ”

“   I can’t mansplain manipulate manwhore my way out of this one guys! ”

“   Not all your life decisions have to be smart. Some can be purely for cinematic value. ”

“   Sometimes I wish I looked more fragile and feminine like a dainty flower, but I do enjoy looking like I hate everyone. ”

“   Any dream can be a prophetic dream if you’re willing to do some really weird shit. ”

“   girl help there is not enough enrichment in my enclosure. ”

“   BRO, you NEED to stop SUMMONING DEMONS in the FRAT HOUSE. ”

“   I just gave your address to some spiders! ”

“   I disappoint my father as a hobby now. ”

“   I think that the dark circles under my eyes add to my aesthetic actually. ”

“   Good news! I’ve successfully replaced all of my emotions with jokes! ”

“   I have half a braincell left and I’m very scared to use it! ”

“   Listen, son — in this world, it’s either yeet or be yeeted. ”

“   I appreciate the advice, but I think that I’m old enough to make my own bad decisions. ”

“   I’m disappointed in me too. Y’all aren’t special. ”

“   Running from your demons is the best exercise! ”

“   Sorry; I can’t commit any crimes with you. My mom says that I have to study. ”

“   Time flies when you don’t know what the fuck is going on. ”

“   If I run out of tacos, I can no longer maintain my human form. ”

“   Bestie, I don’t think that I can girlboss under these conditions. ”

“   Yeah I’ve had combat training; I can do anxiety attacks! ”

“   Swag is earned, not learned. ”

“   Contrary to popular belief, violence solves a lot. ”

“   I CANNOT STAND YOU ALL so I will SIT DOWN. ”

“   Please God no … I don’t need any more character development right now! ”

“   If you can’t beat ‘em, yeet ‘em. ”

“   Do not put me in a situation. I’m at my limit and I am very tired. ”

“   I may be depressed, but at least I’m not basic. ”

“   It’s MY LIFE and I’ll sabotage it myself, thank you. ”

“   Think twice? Bold of you to assume that I think once. ”

“   At the next inconvenience, I will start biting people. ”

“   Oops I think that I just experienced an emotion. ”

“   Did you know that rats spelled backwards is star? ”

“   One day, I’ll be reincarnated as a pigeon, and I’ll shit on your head. ”

“   On the outside, I’m a baddie — but on the inside, I’m a saddie. ”

“   My grandma bullies me through the Ouija board. ”

“   I’m a cool person if you can just look past my personality. ”

“   Beetles don’t have to do taxes, and I think that is a beautiful way to live. ”

“   I hope that you get your character development arc soon. ”

“   Those are some nice kneecaps … It’d be a shame if someone stole them … ”

“   I’ve wanted to be a trophy wife ever since I was a little boy. ”

“   I’m done being baby; I want POWER ”

“   Wait, “Just Standing There Ominously” doesn’t count as socializing? ”

“   Yes I am smart, and yes, I am stupid. It’s called being flexible. ”

“   I am NOT delusional!!!!! I am OPTIMISTIC! ”

“   I deserve compensation for not being the menace to society that i could be, like i'm skipping out on a lot of fun here. ”

“   Do not ask me if you should or shouldn't do something !!! Before I am a friend I am an enabler !!! ”

“   i am the WORLDS PRETTYIST PINK PRINCESS and im gonna KILL YOU WITH MY HUGE FUCKING HAMMER ”

[weepingtalecowboy]

Legend has very strange priorities

Fanfic prompt: Ravio and Legend have the weirdest relationship in the entire chain and it literally is the equivalent of a girl who had a perfect dream partner and then afterwards just settled for the least likely weirdo to abandon her

Like Legend definitively has no idea what a standard relationship is

It is either perfect or messy as hell with lots of issues from both sides

the chain talks about romance during a quiet moment (only the older ones over alcohol)

Time speaks about Malon and how much he loves her

Sky is not passing the opportunity to talk about Zelda

Twilight is talking about how a girl he loved left him and how he had to accept that she had left him for the safety of Hyrule

Warriors talks about some dates he had with some random women and doesn’t pass the chance to slander Cia for being a weird creep

And then Legend's turn starts

And he tells them the abridged story about how he met Ravio (because he will start crying if he has to talk about Marin)

But does it so poorly that everyone now thinks that Legend is in a relationship with a living, breathing red flag

Because who breaks into other peoples houses sets up a shop and scams you in your own god damn house

Then has the audacity to steal the weapons you were forced to rent from you if you get injured

And just rerent them to YOU

And then married you less then a month later to get a legal way to stay in Hyrule as an immigrant

And still is squatting at your house with their illegal weapons selling gig

And the only reason why you are not reporting on this madness is because you know for certain that he won’t leave you as your first lover did

Like afterwards the chain contemplated absolutely everything legend has ever done

Because his preservation skills on their adventure are not human

But he apparently sees nothing wrong with that relationship he has

Warriors already knew Ravio and his already low opinion on the scammer just dropped to below hell itself

Because no matter how much they argue Legend is his annoying younger brother who he won’t let down by letting him continue that mess of a relationship

Because Warriors knows how utterly awful such people can be and only barely escaped such a relationship himself with Cia

And now their new argument topic is about how awful Ravio seems and While Warriors is determined to make Legend see the truth about his supposedly terrible relationship

Legend not noticing that Warriors is serious about an argument for once accidentally makes it worse

Warriors: Do you think that he won't leave you if you go on adventures

Legend : he definitely won’t leave my house so no worries about that one

Warriors: ….?

Legend : I have high standards afterall

Warriors *genuinely concerned*: those are not standards that is basic decency what the actual…!?,?,”?!

Legend : he won’t even sell my stuff if he is feeling nice ,because he is a good boyfriend

Warriors: LINK WTF ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT THAT IS NOT FINE AT ALL

Legend : he also has never hurt me for no good reason so stop being hypocritical about it for no god damn reason (talking about that one time when Ravio had to slap him out of shock or when he did his stitches or similar necessary pain)

Warriors: WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK !!?!?!?,!!!?!

Legend : it didn’t even hurt that much honestly it was just a slight sting if anything

And by that point Warriors was ready to execute somebody because his brother truly says everything like it is something nice of his partner

Spoiler it was not Legend

Twilight joined as well when Legend told him how much Ravio likes bunnies and how it probably keeps their entire relationship together

Because that is just wrong to diminish someone’s abilities into just that one thing ( Legend should stop with the self depriveing jokes for his husband’s sake )

By the time the chain was in Legend's Hyrule again everyone was out for blood

[yayll]

~ a little something about Beast Dazai and his coveting for you ~

If you were a burning car, he'd call shotgun. Not that he needs another reason to crash and burn, but it would be nice for him to indulge just a little for once. He watches the fireworks from the port, a contrast to his usual prison in his high rise office back at Mafia headquarters. Where you are. He can't even handle being in the same building as you anymore, not when he gets like this. He should be getting back to work, solving bigger problems that torment him on a daily basis, but you take priority Every. Single. Time. Oh, this isn't supposed to be this way.

He sent you on your way earlier after you stupidly worried about his sleep schedule, or rather his lack of one.

"... I still don't know how you manage to keep us afloat, sir."

He almost cracks a smile at that. You little idiot.

"Because I have to, of course. You all make it easier on me in your own way, the mafia supports one another. It's all one grand effort, no?"

You tilt your head, your eyes full of dreams and promise. He wishes he could take the stars out of your eyes and keep them in his pocket for a rainy day. Everyday.

"You think so? I'm not too terrible of a subordinate?"

Hmm, you want reassurance. Cute. It's not in his nature to beg, but in that moment he wants to drop to his knees, wrap himself around your legs and praise the absolute shit out of you until you kick him away like the stray dog he is.

Instead, Dazai just exhales deeply, and clears his throat. His eyes are solemn, yet solely focused on you. His voice betrays the coldness he's trying to exude, it's too soft... too reminiscent of kindness.

"... You're not terrible at all."

He holds your gaze quietly for a long moment, and he can see the way you struggle to move on from that sentiment. For a brief shining moment, you can almost see Osamu Dazai, not this pathetic void he presents everyday. He wants to lean over and hold you, to beg you to tell him that he's real and so are you, and that he's sick and tired of feeling half alive.

You end up nagging him to promise he'll get some sleep tonight, and he lies to you, a small smirk curling on his lips. It's as cruel as he can be right now. Once you're gone, he simply looks down at the mess of paperwork on his desk, and he whispers to himself, a silent mantra on his quivering lips, his face between his hands

"... I promise, I promise, I promise."

He watches the fireworks come to an end, and he thinks about himself in the context of it all, dying to find absurdity in the mundane to match his own mental state. He tugs at the frayed bandages that stick out of the cuff of his suit, he has a nasty habit of picking them every time he sees you, as if he could ever afford the luxury of having a ridiculous schoolboy crush. It's time to change them, and it's time for him to go back home. He doesn't mean his office, not his pitiful empty bed, but you. You make it anywhere home. But you are not his, and he is unfortunately yours, so maybe he will go home and sleep. You would like that, and he really likes you.

The man in black begins to walk into the night, whistling a tune as his maroon scarf billows in the wind, a faint smile appearing on his lips.