#and i think what's even harder about it for both of them is that they just have no choice--and rather few allies besides each other
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docdudo · 1 day ago
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Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 12)
You woke up feeling uncomfortably warm. Not that it bothered you too much—it was the kind of warmth that made you feel too comfortable to move. Wrapped tightly in a cocoon of blankets, you realized you were stuck in someone’s arms.
And when you blinked your eyes open, all you saw was darkness.
The darkness of someone’s shirt.
You shifted slightly, trying to free yourself a little, but the grip was way too strong. You literally couldn't move, the blankets wrapped too tightly around your body. It made you squirm a bit to try and get free, but still, nothing. "Mhm..."
"Kyle, Johnny, let her go." Simon's low voice sounded muffled somewhere behind you, his heavy hand patting your covered body lightly. "I don't think humans enjoy nesting immobile like this."
Which, yeah, had some truth to it, considering you were still squirming a little, unconfortable with being stuck in place so firmly.
"It's for protection..." Johnny whined—mostly playfully—as he gave you one last squeeze before loosening his hold, pulling you up slightly so you could now see the rest of the room. The blanket that was wrapped around you not so constricting anymore. "Well, good morning, pup! Slept well?"
You blinked slowly, still feeling too sluggish to answer properly. Instead, you rubbed your eyes and face slowly with both hands, trying to wake up a bit. That didn’t stop Johnny, though, who immediately reached out to feel your forehead, checking your temperature. "Ah think it went down..." The Werewolf muttered, his brow furrowing slightly in concentration. It was harder for him to gauge your temperature when he ran much hotter than humans.
"Let me."
Gaz stepped in, leaning closer to feel your forehead, his feathers twitching slightly even when his body was otherwise totally still.
"You feel much better, fledgling." He announced, a small, gentle smile on his face.
"Great! This means we can play, right, pup?"
You glanced up at Johnny’s face nervously. He looked so eager, but you weren’t quite sure if you were ready to play yet... he was still way too big and scary to consider fighting with him.
“Johnny.” Simon reprimanded in his low voice as he stood from the nest. “What did we talk about before?”
"And ya think ah'll hurt her or somethin'? Ya don't knae human limits either, do ya?" Johnny didn’t yell, but his naturally loud tone rose slightly, and your body tensed instinctively between the soft blankets.
Were they fighting? Were they going to argue because of you?
"Humans are more delicate." Gaz chimed in with a neutral tone, stretching his wings as he stood up from the nest, still addressing Johnny. "Especially her, weak as she is after the flu...."
"I knaw ya worried, Ky. I knae, but I'm very careful. Ya knae that." Johnny replied, his voice softening as he moved up to hug Gaz's side gently, one hand smoothing down the feathers on his wing. "Besides, ya have to help me convince Ghostie—he’s such a hardass."
"Har har." Simon deadpanned, rolling his eyes as he bent down to lift you out of the nest. His heavy hands patted your pajamas gently to both fix your clothes and wake you up a bit.
Johnny grinned smugly, amused by Simon’s reaction, his wolf ears pressing down as he let go of Kyle to approach you.
"Ay, pup, do ya wanna see how hybrids spar?" Johnny asked with a mischievous grin as he looked down at you, stepping closer to Simon.
"Huh...?" You murmured, blinking up at him, caught off guard.
"Johnny—" Simon hissed, the raspy, airy sound of a Wraith’s warning making you jump back in surprise.
Only to be interrupted by Johnny tackling him down back into the nest, the Werewolf growling back as they tumbled on top of the blankets and pillows.
You gasped weakly in surprise, eyes wide as you watched them both fall to their knees, Johnny's bicep trying to get a hold of Simon's neck as he tried to push the bigger man down. Simon was clearly stronger though, as he held back the Werewolf's arm and pulled it off of him.
Gaz chuckled sharpily at his two mates' antics, shaking his head softly as he walked past you to go to the bathroom. The soft feathers of his wing brushed against your back reassuringly as he went.
You noticed Simon’s sclera starting to darken, and he let out a low hiss before tackling Johnny's side roughly, pinning him to the nest this time. Johnny growled back, his nails digging into Simon’s arms, in his compression shirt, which somehow resisted tearing under the sharp claws.
You could see both of their muscles bulging with how much strengh they were fighting eachother with.
“You two muppets, stop that.” Price’s voice came from the doorway. He entered the room, shaking his head in mild amusement at the scene. “You’re scaring the kid.”
Johnny took advantage of Simon’s brief distraction to push him off, immediately crawling over to you with a panting grin.
"See? Isnae it fun??" He asked, leaning on the edge of the nest with his arms crossed and his head resting on them. "Course ah'd go easy on ya, pup. Let you mess me up, aye?"
"Who called, Price?" Simon asked, straightening up and casually scratching his arm where Soap had sinked his nails in.
"Nikolai. He was with Kate and Rya." Price replied with a small, affectionate smile, a tinge of affection on his gruffy voice.
"Are they...?" Simon started to ask, glancing at you briefly before looking back at Price, trying to be subtle to avoid worring you in case he was wrong.
"Yes, they are paying us a visit soon." Price confirmed, his tone careful as he gauged your reaction.
"Who...?" You asked quietly, already feeling anxiety creep in at the mention of three new people.
"Bonnie lassie, it's okay, aye? It's just our pack!" Johnny said quickly, trying to reassure you as he got up to his knees to manage to look you better in the eye. "Our pack is very nice, aye? Nice people, very gentle! Ya'll love them!"
"Well, Rya, sure, but Nik and Kate...." Gaz emerged from the bathroom, looking refreshed and wearing a small, amused smile.
"Gaz."
"Kyle."
Both Ghost and Price immediatly scolded the Harpy in unison, their tones sharp but familiar. Gaz just laughed it off, shaking his head lightly.
"Kidding, kidding~"
"They are very nice people, I swear it, doll." John said quickly, his small smile softened by the warmth in his voice, though partially hidden by his beard. "I'll show you pictures after, okay?"
You hesitated, still feeling uncertain. Nervousness tightened your chest, but you nodded slowly. It wasn’t like refusing was an actual option. This wasn’t truly your house. Maybe the best you could do was what you'd done in some foster homes before that had frequent visitors: hide away from sight until they were gone.
Like a cat.
"Let's have breakfast, hun. And you need to take one more dose of medicine. Maybe some warm tea too, hm?" Kyle smiled, his wing brushing your back gently to nudge you toward the door.
You were still getting used to the mornings in their house. They were clearly early risers, with none of them showing the slightest hesitation about starting the day even if they just woke up. The ease with which they interacted, did chores, and moved around impressed you. It was a stark contrast to your usual sluggish mornings.
Not that you were grumpy in the mornings—just
 slow. Sluggish. You often zoned out while sitting at the table, barely able to keep up with the energetic chatter and movement around you. They talked continuously, laughing loudly, getting up and sitting back down, picking up dishes, and cleaning as they went.
Truly impressive. You could never.
After taking a warm shower, brushing your teeth, and getting dressed in warm clothes, you found a new problem, though. Johnny was trailing you like a persistent puppy. His wide grin practically begged you to join him in whatever he had in mind.
"If you're going to play with her, take her downstairs to the gym." Simon suggested, clearly offering no help in discouraging Johnny's enthusiasm.
The small, betrayed look you shot Simon only made him chuckle softly as Johnny gently took your hand, leading you toward their indoor gym.
The gym was much bigger than you'd expected, equipped with far more gear than some gyms you'd seen before. The bright white lighting and clean concrete floors created a spacious and organized feel. Each piece of heavy equipment was well-spaced, making it seem as though every detail had been carefully planned.
You scanned the area, taking it all in, until Johnny tugged you toward a section lined with thick, black padded mats on the ground.
"I... don't know how to... fight...." You murmured, your brows knitting together in confusion as you looked up at Soap. It was almost a silent plea for clarification.
"I knae, lassie, don't ya worry! We're just playing!" He beamed at you, guiding you to the edge of the mats. "Here, take off your shoes, bonnie."
Both of you stepped onto the mats. You wore the new socks John had gotten for you—purple with white stars—that carefully protected your small feet, while Johnny went barefoot. His feet were large, with sharp toenails and thick fur along the tops, really what you would expect from a Werewolf.
"What... do you wanna play...?" You asked hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper in the otherwise quiet gym. "Play fight...?"
"Ah like some wressling like anybody, mah kids also love it too! Ah'm sure we'll have some fun, wee lass!"
He smiled confidently, dropping to his knees. He had an eager and wolfish grin on his face, energy pratically radiating from him.
"Let's see what ya got!"
Part 11 /
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thef1diary · 1 day ago
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https://www.tumblr.com/nobrakes/663801931216601088/you-gotta-hand-it-to-him-man-knows-how-to-sell
absolutely going feral over these, and it’s giving dirtbag!daniel having his way with you on a boat 👀
oh how he would LOVE for everyone around to hear đŸ˜©đŸ˜©
-đŸ±
— his tattoos đŸ˜”â€đŸ’« if he wants you, he wants you, doesn’t care if anyone else hears (or sees) plus wouldn’t it be so much fun to fuck w a view? he’ll still look at you though. NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY HEART ATTACKS BTW (cunty collective I see you) 18+ content below
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The sun beat down on the boat, the faint rocking of the waves beneath you doing nothing to steady your trembling legs as Daniel pulled you onto his lap. He was shirtless, his bronzed skin glistening faintly, and those shorts he wore—low on his hips and just short enough to show off the tattoos on his thick thighs—left little to the imagination.
You should’ve been looking at the open sea, the endless stretch of blue and the gentle horizon. Instead, you were seated on Daniel’s cock, his hands gripping your hips, letting you take him as deeply as possible.
“Look at that view, baby,” he rasped, his voice rough, his lips grazing your ear as he guided you to grind down on him. “Not the ocean, though—nah, the only thing I care about is how good you look falling apart for me.”
You tried to focus on the horizon, your hands braced against his chest as you lifted yourself up and sank back down. But Daniel wasn’t about to let you escape the intensity of his gaze.
“Eyes on me,” he muttered, a hand slipping under your sundress to toy with your clit. You whimpered at the sudden shock of pleasure, your legs threatening to give out.
“D-Danny,” you stammered, your voice catching in your throat as he smirked.
“There’s my good girl,” he crooned, his tone dripping with mock sweetness. “Whining for me already? Fucking pathetic. You can’t even ride me properly without making a mess of yourself.”
You whined, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to keep up with his pace. But he was relentless, pulling you down harder, making sure you felt every inch of him stretching you open.
The wet sounds between your thighs grew louder, and your face flushed as you glanced nervously over your shoulder. The thought of someone walking by, hearing the obscene noises or catching a glimpse of what you were doing, sent a jolt of both fear and arousal straight to your cunt.
“Don’t even think about it,” Daniel warned, gripping your chin and turning your face back to him. “No one’s out here right now, but you want someone to see, don’t you? Bet you’d love to have an audience. Let them watch you bounce on my cock, moaning like the desperate little slut you are.”
“Shut up,” you shot back weakly, but your words were swallowed by a sharp gasp as he pinched your clit, making you clench around him.
“Shut up?” he mocked, his tone dripping with condescension. “That’s cute, coming from someone who’s whining my name loud enough for the whole fucking marina to hear.”
His lips found yours in a bruising kiss, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip as he swallowed your moans. “Go on,” he muttered against your mouth, his hands digging into your hips. “Let it out. Let everyone hear how good I make you feel.”
You tried to muffle your cries, biting down on your fist as your thighs burned from the effort of riding him. But Daniel wasn’t about to let you hide.
“Nuh uh,” he muttered, grabbing your wrist and forcing your hand away. “You don’t get to be shy now. You were so eager when I took you out here, weren’t you? Now fucking own it.”
His hips thrust up into you, meeting your movements with brutal precision. The force of it had you crying out, your head tipping back as pleasure overwhelmed you.
“That’s it,” he muttered, his voice dark and filthy. “Make a fucking mess of yourself. Don’t stop until you’ve soaked my cock, sweetheart. I want to feel you dripping down my thighs.”
You couldn’t hold back. The knot in your stomach snapped, and your orgasm hit you like a wave, your entire body trembling as you moaned his name—loud, unrestrained, shameless.
“Fuck,” Daniel hissed, watching you with hooded eyes as you came undone. His hands never stopped their punishing grip on your hips, pulling you down onto him as you rode out your high.
When you slumped against him, boneless and still trembling from the aftershocks, he chuckled darkly, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. “Better clean yourself up before someone sees, baby,” he murmured, his voice dripping with mock concern.
Then he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “Or maybe we should enjoy the view this time, hm? Turn around, on your hands and knees.”
want more dirtbag!danny? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days
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pacofprunes · 16 hours ago
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die with a smile
daeho x reader
warnings — angst, pure drabble, death, typical squid game shit, crying, gunshots, mentions of blood, inspired by bruno mars and lady g’s song “die with a smile.”
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you and daeho had known each other before you joined the games. you both always had a thing for each other, neither wanting to confess. you always feared that if you got together, what if he died in the marines? and he always worried that what if you’d say no? but both of you being in terrible debt, neither one fessing up to the other, joining the games and seeing each other across the room, it felt like the world just stopped for you two.
after the first game and realizing this was a life or death type of thing, you found him once it was over and gave him the tightest hug you could give. he squeezed you back as you cried into his shoulder.
“why would you come? why wouldn’t you tell me? how stupid could you be dae?”
he wipes your tears with his thumb as they keep flowing and he laughs softly.
“you’re here too, remember? no need to yell at me about it. why wouldn’t you tell me?”
you just stay silent and place your face in his chest as he rubs his hand through your hair.
“we’ll stick together. i won’t let anything happen to you, i promise.”
you press your face away from his chest and look up at him.
“really?”
he smiles at you. that signature smile that could light up the whole room.
“wherever you go that’s where I’ll follow”
the second game, you guys were on the same team. you guys made it but seeing all those people die around you, all the blood on the floor that you almost slipped on while racing to the finish line for your life had opened your eyes completely. you couldn’t stay here. voting came around and you pressed the big red ‘X’. you watched as dae-ho’s turn came around and prayed he’d make the smart choice. he hits the red ‘X’ and switches out the blue ‘O’ on his chest before walking over to you and smiling, hooking his arm underneath yours as you lean your head against his shoulder.
after the night comes around he gets up and nudges your shoulder, trying to wake you up. you start to move and finally get up and rub your eyes, immediately smiling once you see it’s him. you pat a spot on your bed, giving him a sign to sit with you. he hops up and you lean your head on his shoulder and he wraps his arm around yours.
“dae, do you think we’ll get out of here?”
he goes to speak but you cut him off.
“alive.”
he thinks for a little and it’s silent but then he squeezes your shoulder before speaking.
“i think we’ll get out of here together.”
you take a deep breath and almost hold it there. all the tension in your body threatening to spill. he looks at you concerned before a shaky breath spills out of your mouth.
“dae, i don’t wanna do this anymore.”
the tears well up in your eyes before you can even speak but you stop yourself from talking more and hold your breath once again to keep them in. he pulls you into his chest and wraps his hand around your head and keeps your face in the crook of his neck as he feels the spot get wetter and wetter. he takes a deep breath now before speaking.
“i love you.”
you still and move away, looking at him with your teary eyes in shock.
“what..?”
“i love you.”
he holds his breath. scared of what you may say. hoping he read all the signs correctly and that it was the right time to admit it.
“dae, we can’t.”
he chokes on his own breath, upset about what you may be insinuating.
“why? im sorry.”
you put your hand on his cheek and squeeze his hand with your other hand.
“don’t be sorry. i love you too. but we can’t. if you were to die here, i don’t know what i’d do. if i was left here without you, i—”
he presses you into a tight kiss, bring his free hand up to your cheek while you’re still holding his other and pulls away.
“that’s only going to make me love you even harder. knowing that you feel so deeply about me. i feel the same. but i told you,”
he cups your face with both hands now.
“wherever you go that’s where i’ll follow. as long as you’re here i’m not going anywhere.”
you stare, almost looking through his eyes now and you speak, taking a breath.
“nobody’s promised tomorrow.”
he smiles at you before leaning his forehead into yours and looking into your eyes.
“but as long as you’re here i am.”
—
the third game comes around and was finally announced. it was definitely intense and quite nerve wrecking but daeho makes sure to give you a smile of reassurance.
he squeezes your hand tight as the platform spins around. the speaker called for five people in a room. you run together but you end up getting separated. he’s in a room, the perfect amount of people, but he notices you out there instead of in with him. somebody else was right next to the door he was in, so he opens it and lets them in, allowing them to lock it behind him. gi-hun screams for him, but he just runs to you. he locks you in a hug and you guys pull away and just look each other in the eyes.
“dae-ho, i don’t wanna do this anymore.”
he cups your face in his hands.
“we don’t have to anymore, my love, i love you so much.”
you place your heads in each others necks, hugging as tight as possible, just like before when you first arrived, and then you both tense against each other. gunshots ringing through the air, into your ears, and through your bodies. you both fall to the ground, still in each others arms. with the few breaths he has left, he cups your face in his hand one last time, sending a smile your way. tears filling your eyes before they finally shut, you smile back to him. and even when you both pass, that smile never fully fades.
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the-ace-with-spades · 2 days ago
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My train ride thoughts:
You know all those memory loss fics where they have an accident and forget the past five years they've been married and still think they're rivals? Can we move it slightly to the left and reverse a bit?
Jake and Bradley dated from 2006 to 2010. Bradley did the breaking up - in a brilliant act of self-sabotage, not because he didn't love him, but because he loved him enough to think Jake deserved someone better than Bradley.
Fast forward to 2017 and the mission training - Jake is the one to have an accident, not Javy, and has to eject. He has a head injury (among other things) and is medavac'ed.
He won't fly the mission, but he's mostly okay. However, the first thing Jake asks Javy when they finally let him see him is, "Where is Bradley? Why is he not here? Did something happen to him?" which opens a whole other can of worms.
Turns out, Jake thinks it's the summer of 2010, about three months before he and Bradley had broken up. He didn't say anything in front of the medical staff because his mind still thinks DADT is in place and he doesn't want any of them in trouble. So Javy has to break it to him that 1) it's 2017, which Jake's reply to that is just, Yeah, you looked kinda old (rude!) and 2) well, DADT no longer exists and no one can officially penalize him for being gay.
Which is enough to make Jake cry. And Javy doesn't continue with the whole 'So, Bradley broke up with you 7 years ago' because Jake starts mumbling different things like, We can get married. Oh god, are we married already? Where's my ring? Did I lose it in the accident? Where's Bradley, why did they not call my Next of Kin?
Because, you know, even in 2010 he thought he and Bradley are forever, surely they must still be together and probably married. Which, Javy shouldn't be surprised because he knows Jake had a whole wedding planner, children's names list, house decor theme, and god knows what prepared for them.
And Javy is not going to break his heart, AGAIN, so he chickens out and instead calls a nurse to tell her all about Jake's amnesia. They take Jake away for more tests and exams and just as he is rolled away, he shouts at Javy to 'Tell Bradley I'm okay when he comes in, he worries so bad when hospitals are involved'.
So Javy calls Bradley. Just calls him and tells him to come to the hospital and tell amnesiac Jake they've broken up because he's not explaining it to Jake himself. In truth, Javy doesn't even know why Bradley broke up with Jake but he didn't give him a reason beyond 'we just don't match' and Javy had been also pretty sure Bradley was as much of a goner as Jake and he hates Bradley for making him be so wrong.
Javy avoids the topic as much as he can, but he's not actually expecting Bradley to show up - why would he care now, right? - but just as Jake starts drilling the question, Bradley steps into the room..
Not only does he step in, he lets Jake hug him straight away
Bradley's also brought a bag of clothes and they must be his own because where the heck would he find Jake's and, oh, look at that, that's Texas Cowboys pajamas and Jake asks, "I still have this thing? God, it's so worn out," and Javy chokes on his own tongue. Sure enough, there's a mix of t-shirts that must belong to both Jake and Bradley and a new pair of sweats and those socks must be Bradshaw's because there's no way Jake would wear plane-themed socks.
"Do you have my wedding ring? Or did I lose it forever somewhere in the field?" Jake asks and Bradshaw looks spooked before the bastard recovers and covets under Jake's sad eyes and say, "No, you didn't, our rings are still in the locker room on the base."
And Javy just--stares at him.
"I promise I'll bring them tomorrow."
Javy stares harder.
Why did you not tell him? is what Javy spits out as soon as they leave the room and Bradley's reply is just Why didn't you, huh? and they just stand there pointing at each other like in the Spiderman meme.
Well, Bradshaw will have to explain himself because he sure as hell isn't going to magically produce wedding rings tomorrow morning.
And Javy is proven fucking wrong again because Bradshaw brings TWO wedding rings, with their NAMES engraved and a little thin band with Jake's birthstone that matches the wedding band perfectly.
Javy is speechless but Jake just shines with, oh, they're so pretty, put it back on me, I knew I have good taste.
And Bradshaw is all innocent when he says, "Actually, I chose them. They're made from my parents' melted wedding rings."
And Javy can't tell if he made that up on the spot or not. [He did not.]
And so the lies fucking go on. Jake is discharged, but not for flying, and to keep up the little charade, Javy packs all his things and brings them to Bradshaw's place - where Jake will be staying until they come back from the mission.
And of course, Bradshaw and his--whatever his issues with Maverick are make it onto the Dagger Team. Javy can only imagine the tearful goodbye 2010 Jake would give his married man, sweet husband Bradley.
"You've gotta fucking come back because if you don't, he's going to fucking find out he's not your husband when the will comes out."
And Bradshaw, just like that, replies, "He's the only person in my will anyway."
(Dunno how this would end tho, this is where I had to change trains and I forgot after...)
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stevenose · 3 hours ago
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Yes. Yes we can talk abt high steve. I think it’s like this.
taking an edible w steve always starts so giggly and then at the 30min mark he’s capital h Horny. ur joking abt something so inconsequential w him and suddenly he’s like “haha you know what’s really funny. i wont u
”
and you indulge him, let him paw at you and blab nonstop about how good you feel, and you only laugh a little when he acts like your tits are the most mind-blowing thing he’s ever seen, and just when he gets his mouth on you is when YOUR high hits. and you’re sitting there, feeling like everything around you is melting except for him, feeling both so in love and so carnal while he fucks you, and cums, and then keeps going because he’s Insane. and he doesn’t stop talking the whole goddamn time because he’s INSANE.
this took me a while to reply to bc i had to put my phone down and walk away

it’s cute to think abt being best friends and you KNOW if you both get high with each other you’re going to fool around. but you never acknowledge it. it’s this unspoken thing.
so you’re both stressed out and decide to take an edible. sitting real close to each other on the couch while a random movie plays. you’re trying to pay attention - honestly. you both are at first, giggling, slowly getting higher and higher.
“think it’s kicking in,” he says, sinking into the cushions. his eyes are hooded. you’re pretty sure his high started a while ago and this is just the only time he’s verbalized it.
“you okay?”
“uh-huh.” his head lulls to the side. “you?”
“mhm.”
“you with me?”
“mhm,” you repeat.
you stare at each other for a long while. steve’s cheeks flush.
he giggles. you giggle. and then both of you burst into a fit of them, laughing beyond the point of being able to breathe, feeling exhausted and restless.
it happens out of nowhere, as usual. steve’s mouth is on yours quickly, hands enveloping your cheeks. he holds you so you don’t move away - as if you would. your hands curl into his hair and you sigh, relaxed, high becoming heady.
a hand moves down to your chest, big and warm as it grips your breast. you groan, leaning into him further. he gasps as he pulls away, looking fucked out, eyes red and hardly open.
“need you,” he moans, his fingers tweaking your nipple. “c’mere.”
you’re sat on his lap now, his hard-on pressing into your core. you wish you weren’t wearing sweatpants. wanna feel his cock, feel it throb against your cunt. and you know it’ll get there, but you’re impatient. steve’s moaning like a whore below you, hands exploring every single inch of you. groping your ass, your thighs, his lips trailing down your neck.
“keep - keep doin’ that,” he begs, fucking his hips up into you. “feels so good, you’re so good to me.”
“steve.” you’re breathless. you can feel your heart beating so hard and heavy it almost scares you. you’re hyper sensitive, needy, grinding harder.
“tits,” he gasps. “need your tits, baby, they’re so fuckin’ pretty.”
you laugh at first, but it’s really not funny when his lips wrap around a nipple. you’re whining like a whore now, so desperate for him, for anything he’ll give you.
you’re really fucked up now, too. finally on his level, and all you can think about is him. everything is purely carnal. you’re hardly even thinking.
“leave hickeys,” you moan. “please, wanna remember.”
he sucks love bites eagerly into the plushness of your breasts.
“oh,” he whispers, “need to feel you, please?”
when you’re both bare and you’re sinking down on him, your favorite steve comes out - chatty, pussy drunk, touchy steve. hands moving everywhere again, five new hickeys on your body. he talks to you in between each.
“pussy - this pussy is made for me, huh? like we’re meant to be. perfect fit.”
you wouldn’t exactly call it that. he’s so big you feel like you’re splitting open. the high soothes the pain, feeling fuzzy rather than sharp.
“uh-huh,” you say anyway.
“i’m gonna cum. gonna cum in this tight — shit — mmmph —“
“yes,” you gasp, hips rocking. you’re both moving slow even though everything feels like it’s moving fast. “yes, steve, feels so good when - i love it when you -“
you shudder. you can’t even get the words out.
“say it,” he grits. “quick, i’m close.”
your stomach flips violently, clit pulsing. his thumb lazily flicks against it.
“love it when you cum in me.”
he plants his feet and fucks into you, rough and sloppy, making you fold into him. you bury your head into his shoulder and wail.
“my best friend,” he grits. “fuckin’ love you.”
you press open mouthed kisses to his skin. “i love you. oh my god, i love you, please cum.”
his grunts and groans are pornographic, unloading into you, so warm. feels so good when you’re high - spreads the bliss through your body. you cum a moment later, just from the feeling of his balls pressed against your ass, his thumb still swiping.
but he doesn’t stop. you squeak, a little sore, a little overstimulated.
“steve -!”
“i know,” he groans, continuing to fuck you. he’s breathless, so goddamn hot with his messy hair and dark eyes. “i’m sorry, i can’t stop, y’feel so goddamn good i just - i can’t - need more, please?”
“okay,” you breathe.
he sighs. “my good girl.”
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resident-idiot-simp · 1 day ago
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Passing of the torch
(x)
Getting blown up wasn't fun Laura would just like to state that for the record. -1000/10 would not recommend and all that. She didn't know who all got caught in the explosion with her but she knows at least they'll be ok.
She groans as she sits up and blinks away the black and looks around a field....what? She knew full and well she was in a warehouse with her dads. Beside her she heard a groan and she quickly turns and sees Logan. She quickly goes to him, "PapĂĄ hey." She calls as he blinks up at her.
"Wht's goin on kit?" He slurred out as he tries to sit up. "Not sure exactly." She says as she watches him worriedly. He eventually sits up with her help and looks around before sighing.
"It's limbo." He grumbles and Laura looked at him confused, "What?" She asks. He starts to stand as he answers.
"Limbo kit the place between life and death. Have you not been here before?" He asked confused. Laura shook her head while staying close to Logan. He looks down at her in amusement, "Kit this place is safe no need to worry." He reassures.
She relaxes finally and just looks around, "We're here because we got blown up? " She asked and Logan nodded, "Yep that's why I'm surprised you've never seen it. This is where we end up while we heal from extremely grievous wounds. Though I suppose I'm glad you've never been here."
Laura chuckles at that, "I've never gotten this hurt before, but do you have any idea how long we'll be here?" She asked and he shrugs. "None, don't know how bad it was could be a few minutes could be hours, but by how shit I feel I'm thinking it's going to be a while."
Laura does feel like she was ran over by a bus so he might be onto something. Logan pauses in his movements as he looks into the distance. Laura confused looks at what got his attention only to freeze as well.
It's another Logan undeniably but that's not what freezes her to the spot. No what does that is the scent she picks up now that's she's focusing. It's something she hasn't smelled in so so long.
Her daddy
She feels tears immediately well in her eyes as she sprints to him. He looked almost identical to the first time she saw him only this time he looks healthier. Still the same scars and grey hair but not like he was slowly dying. It just makes her cry harder.
She flings herself at him clinging like he might fade away. He clings right back shaking as he cries silently. She's sobbing now she can't help it she missed him so much and it seems mutual. "Daddy daddy daddy." She cries into this chest scrabling at his back to pull herself impossibly closer.
"Laura." He breathes as he buries his face in her hair. She doesn't know how long she's been clinging to him before she pulls back and looks up into familiar dull eyes. Both of them are a mess theirs no doubt about it but she couldn't care less.
"I've missed you so much." She tells him voice barely recognizable from the sobbing. He smiles down at her softly and runs scared fingers through her hair to push it out of her face. "I've missed you a lot too darling." He sounds so found it hurts.
She hears her PapĂĄ shuffling awkwardly a few feet away and she sighs. She turns and catches his eye and smiles reassuringly at him. She knows he is unsure of his place in her life even after she made it clear to him. He wasn't a replacement but his own people in her life. This definitely doesn't help his opinions on the matter.
She pulls back slightly to more easily look at her dad before speaking, "My only wish was to let you know your sacrifice wasn't in vain. Looks like I finally got my chance." She tells him tears still flowing. Her dad chokes back a sob at that. "I'm so glad your ok." He tells her earnestly.
She just smiles, "I might not have been if it wasn't for him." She tells him as she guestues to a startled looking Logan. Her dad just looks at him appraisingly. "Thank you." He tells Logan seriously. Logan just frowns at him, "I did what anyone would do." He dismisses.
Laura snorts at that and her dad just raises an eyebrow at his counterpart. "Really because we both know that's not true." He shot back and her PapĂĄ sighs. "It's our kit what else am I supposed to do?" He asked and her dad smiles at that.
"Ain't that the damn truth." Her dad huffs as he squeezes her to him for a moment. He then takes another breath before speaking once more his tone more serious. "I did what I could for her it wasn't enough, but it was what I could. I didn't want to at first but I did because she doesn't deserve our fate." Her PapĂĄ looks at her and nods his head in agreement.
"She's one of the few good things that have come from us and I did my part. Now she's your responsibility to protect and love. I have faith she's in good hands." Her father tells Logan who looks unsure.
"I'm the worst Wolverine didn't you hear? She deserves better than me hell better then all of us." He PapĂĄ argues and her dad just scoffs. "Yeah well she's don't got better she's got us. Besides if you were really that bad she wouldn't love you like she obviously does."
Logan has nothing to say to that for a few moments, "I can't be you." He whispers and the other man growls. "Your not going to be me. We both weren't as good as we could have been, but you can do better with her then I ever did. This is your kid as much as she's mine don't ruin that by wallowing in the what ifs."
Logan just sighed, "I promise I'll do everything in my power to keep her safe." Her dad just nods. "You'll wake up soon." He tells them and Laura starts crying again. "Will I ever see you again daddy?" She asks and he just pulls her closer. "I don't know darling." He whispers into her hair before placing a kiss on her head and pulling away.
Logan puts a hand on her shoulder to keep her grounded. "We will take care of her." Logan says confidently and her dad smirks seemingly pleased his counterpart took his request to heart. He paused a moment later however, "Wait who's we?" He asked skeptically and Logan just shrugged.
"Wade." He answered which just called her dad to furrowed his eyes. "Wilson." Her PapĂĄ tacked on.
"WAIT DEADPOOL?!" Her dad shouted incredulously before suddenly everything went black once more.
Laura choked awake on a laugh as she woke up abruptly. Logan too had awoke similarly both coughing and choking as they came back to consciousness. Besides them their was a sigh of relief.
"Oh thank fuck you both had me worried sick!" Wade shouted as he hurried over to their sides. "You guys aren't allowed to die without me that fucking sucked." He told them seriously and Laura just smiled.
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bb-dot-move-daisies · 12 hours ago
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MORE. MORE.
1. who fell first/who fell harder?
oh shit...i think they both were on the same page the whole time, except they have severely different ways of expressing it. but i wanna say...kylie, then kylie again.
(2/3/4 absolutely no idea what these are.)
5. (two QUEEN song titles, huh?) who killer queen, who good old fashioned loverboy? kylie for both.
6. go to pet names for each other?
daisy sticks to the classics like "honey", "dear", "sugar" — meanwhile kylie genuinely uses pet names to remember people, so she gets a little more creative. i think the main ones kylie has for daisy are "smokeshow", and "spacegirl"
7. what are their star signs? i have to google this.
kylie was born on the 29th of February, daisy was born on December 31st. pisces and capricorn. (and wikihow says they're compatible; awesome.)
8. (paraphrasing) where in the los gibitties are they?
daisy is a cis lesbian gray ace attorney; kylie's a genderfluid transfemme, who uses she/they with the occasional "masc associated" words (like "handsome", "dad/daddy", etc), and identifies herself as a "lesbian with a biiiiiig asterisks"
9. soulmates by chance. pure chance.
10. skip.
11. (paraphrasing) who's more random in public, and who says "unfortunately thats the love of my life" i have no idea, honestly. i feel like daisy, when drunk and happy can be quite expressive and loud, and kylie would just...fall in love all over again.
12. three songs that remind me of:
Daisy:
- first love/late spring
- washing machine heart
- my love all mine
(it's all mitski đŸ˜­đŸ˜­đŸ˜­đŸ˜­đŸ’„đŸš›đŸ•Šïž)
(i think, subconsciously, daisy's design is heavily based on the kind of women mitski writes about. and whenever i write daisy talking, i tend to go the kind of weird figurative language route that mitski tends to go for in her music...so i think thats why.)
Kylie:
- mr. blue sky - electric light orchestra
- the blonde - tv girl
- and this ones just a straight up Movie, but, pretty woman starring julia roberts and richard gere.
13. who's "tell me im pretty" and who's "ur annoying" (so many of these questions are in that "who tops" type format, but ill answer anyway. cuz its fun.)
daisy never asks kylie to tell her she's pretty, but kylie can feel when she needs it, so she says it. and daisy expresses her love for kylie in protective, but — at times — overly rude quips, because deep down, she can't stand the idea of HER woman in danger.
(also Kylie's a subby top.)
14. love languagesss!!! my favourite trademarked set of behaviours!!!
gifts, and service from kylie. service, and words for daisy.
15. yknow despite the fact that one of my girls is an astronaut i have no idea what "sun moon star eclipse" is. skip.
16. non sexual acts of intimacy.
- kylie cooking the foods daisy likes and remembering how she likes them.
- in bed, whispering about their days, and all the hours spent without each other at work
- daisy showering while kylie shits.
17. i...cant imagine either of them in a physical fight,...theyre both athletic to some degree, i just cant imagine them having the desire to fight for themselves.... Maybe Daisy? daisy has more bloodlust. but fuck i dont know. she could never beat kylie in a fight. right? even if kylie doesn't fight back, she's canonically bigger and heavier...daisy could throw a million punches while kylie does nothing and it would be a fair match.
18. three other ships from other things that remind me of daisy and kylie:
- fucking Arin and Suzy from game grumps.
19. who likes dogs who likes cats? kylie loves dogs. daisy hates animals. she'll take a Cool Fishℱ , maybe, but could never take care of it
20. favorite thing about each other?
daisy likes that kylie doesn't need to be babied. that—on the contrary, kylie takes care of, and pampers daisy (as she deserves). kylie can be kinda shallow at times, but she's good with her hands, and quick on her feet. — that's what daisy likes about kylie. she can rely on her.
kylie likes...everything about daisy. to kylie, daisy is the kind of girl they wanna write home about. yknow? she likes that daisy's smart—she's a reader, she fills the gaps in conversation where kylie just prefers to listen. she's a good cuddle. she has pretty hair. she looks sexy in everything. she makes a lot of money. she's awesome to cook for. she's a competent mother. her family adooores her. (and this one's selfish) but daisy can be a bit of an insomniac, so she's still quite Active late at night; which works for kylie (nightshifter), cus now she has someone to come home to.
21. do they ever match??? in clothing? no, bc there's a severe gap in the way that they dress and shop. however i can see daisy wearing kylies t-shirts and boxers around the house...and i can see kylie wearing daisy's stuff for more Fashionable events
22. their own little ways of saying i love you:
- daisy protects kylie. but would risk crossing her own comfort zones for kylie. and when kylie's in bed, she falls asleep a little easier, because kylie protects her too.
- kylie pets daisy hair, and kisses every inch of her body. kylie waits to see daisy, almost every time. she's at her beck and call.
23. daisy wouldn't marry herself, and neither would kylie. they both kinda hate themselves a lot.
24. coffee or tea? coffee for both
25. one to five tropes they could embody in an au:
- highschool au (the real alteration being that the girls arent four years apart)
i think the reason for this is because the way i write kylie is heavily based on the way i write GRENDAN in my dr*wtectives highschool fics (fun fact) (censoring so they don't FIND ME.)
kylie is a gifted kid with severe imposter's syndrome, meanwhile daisy is an overachiever with no friends.
that's always a fun dynamic for me.
- princess x peasant is another good one for these two...
i think daisy would make an amazing politician,
princesses are just... politicians with a facecard. but i also believe that kylie's girldick is strong enough to tear the military down
🌙 * ― silly little unique trivia about your otp❫
who fell first, and who fell harder?
their hypothetical godly parents (or a deity they could embody in a mythological setting).
soldiers, poets, or kings?
the olive theory according to them (and their palate).
who's the ‘good old-fashioned lover boy’, and who's the ‘killer-queen’?
go-to pet names they have for each other, if any.
what are their star signs? (i know nothing about astrology, but it's funky so out with it!)
their sexual orientations and/or gender identities.
soulmates by fate/chance or by choice?
their hypothetical hogwarts houses, either traditionally speaking, so to say, or following the sortinghatchats method. (alternatively, if you'd rather: their alignment by dnd standards).
who's more likely to do stupid, impulsive, or random stuff, and who's there being like, ‘regrettably, that's the love of my life’?
one to three songs that remind you of them.
who's the “tell me i'm pretty” one, and who's the “you're pretty fucking annoying is what you are” in the relationship?
their love languages.
sun, moon, stars, earth, or eclipse?
three to five non-sexual acts of intimacy.
who's the “i could beat the shit out of you” one, and who's the “i know” one?
one to three other ships from other pieces of media that may remind you of them.
who's the dog person, and who's the cat person? (other pets or animals may also apply.)
their absolute favourite thing about each other in the whole wide world.
do they ever match in any way?
their own little way (or ways) to say ‘i love you’.
who's the “i wouldn't marry myself either” one, and who's the “i would marry you with parer rings” one? (alternatively: i'd marry you with paper rings vs. i'm rich. i'll get you a diamond)?
coffee or tea?
one to five tropes they embody or could pull off in an AU.
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midnight-shadow-cafe · 2 days ago
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Underneath It All
Pairing: Captain John Price x Reader
AU: CEO!John Price x Assistant!Reader
Warnings: Fluff, secret pining, office romance
Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! This CEO AU has been stuck in my head for days, and I couldn’t resist writing it. Let me know what you think!
Masterlist
MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+
Your morning started the same way it always did: stepping into the gleaming glass doors of Price Industries, coffee in hand, and your nerves wound tight. As John Price’s personal assistant, you knew every day would be a marathon of meetings, calls, and last-minute changes. But none of that compared to the hardest part of your job—keeping your feelings for your boss in check.
John Price wasn’t just any CEO. He was the CEO. Sharp suits, a commanding voice, and an air of quiet confidence that made everyone sit up a little straighter. But beneath all that, he was kind, attentive, and unexpectedly warm, especially with you.
Every soft smile he sent your way, every casual “Morning, love” made your heart skip a beat. You had to remind yourself daily that it didn’t mean anything. He was your boss, and you were just his assistant. That was it.
“Good morning, Mr. Price,” you greeted as you stepped into his office, placing his coffee on the edge of his desk.
He glanced up from his laptop, his brow furrowed in thought. But the moment his eyes met yours, his expression softened. “Morning, love.”
Your stomach flipped, but you pushed the feeling aside, holding out the folder in your hand. “Your meeting with the board is at ten. Everything you need is in here.”
He reached for the coffee first, taking a sip before setting it down. “Efficient as ever. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Your lips twitched into a small smile. “Fall apart, probably.”
His low chuckle filled the room. “Probably.”
---
By mid-afternoon, you were juggling phone calls, rescheduling meetings, and sorting through contracts when John emerged from his office. His tie was loosened, and the faintest shadow of frustration lingered in his expression.
“Lunch?” you asked, holding up a bag from the deli down the street.
He paused mid-step, his frown easing. “You’re a lifesaver, you know that?”
“Part of the job,” you teased lightly, handing him the bag.
Instead of retreating to his office, he sat at the small table near your desk and gestured for you to join him. You hesitated before sitting across from him, pulling out your own lunch.
“How was the meeting?” you asked, unwrapping your sandwich.
“Bloody useless,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Half of them don’t know what they’re talking about, and the other half just want to argue for the sake of it.”
You laughed softly, the sound pulling a small smile from him. “Well, at least you’ve got a good sandwich to make up for it.”
He raised a brow, smirking. “Are you always this optimistic, or is it just to keep me from losing my mind?”
“A little of both,” you admitted, earning another chuckle from him.
For a moment, the conversation drifted into a comfortable silence. You couldn’t help but admire how different he seemed in these moments—relaxed, almost vulnerable. It made it even harder to keep your feelings buried.
---
By the time the office began to empty out, you were still at your desk, double-checking the calendar for the next day. You didn’t realize John was still there until his voice broke the silence.
“Still here?”
You looked up, startled to find him leaning against the doorframe. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing just a hint of his collarbone.
“Just finishing up,” you replied, closing your laptop.
He stepped into your office, his presence filling the small space. “You shouldn’t work so late.”
“Says the man who’s still here,” you shot back with a smirk.
He chuckled, low and warm, before his gaze softened. “Come to dinner with me,” he said suddenly.
Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”
“Dinner,” he repeated, stepping closer. “Just the two of us.”
You hesitated, your mind racing. “I don’t think that’s appropriate.”
“Why not?” he asked, his voice soft but insistent.
“People might talk,” you murmured, looking anywhere but at him.
“Let them,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “I don’t care what anyone thinks. I care what you think.”
Your breath hitched at his words, at the quiet vulnerability in his tone. “John
”
“I’ve wanted to say something for months now,” he admitted, his voice low. “But I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel something for you. Not anymore.”
Your heart was pounding, your cheeks warm. You searched his face for any sign that he wasn’t serious, but all you saw was sincerity.
“Say yes,” he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. “Just this once.”
You hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Okay.”
The smile that spread across his face was enough to make every worry fade. And for the first time, you allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something you’d both been too afraid to admit you wanted.
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I hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜
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kisakis-boyfriend · 8 hours ago
Note
Now, I never played Persona 3 but the protagonist looks breedable. So The Persona 3 protagonist (the male one) investigating an haunted/creepy site only to meet an horny male werewolf reader who fucks them 🎃
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Author's Note: Makoto truly is one of the hottest persona protags (possibly even one of the hottest characters in general). Not to mention both of his English VAs did a fantastic job! I could gush over Makoto all day
so I'm just going to let the smut to the talking now đŸ˜¶â€đŸŒ«ïž
Pairings: Makoto Yuki x male reader
Warnings: Male werewolf!reader, dom/top!reader, paranormal investigator!Makoto, adult Makoto, sub/bottom!Makoto, dubcon, finger sucking, dry orgasms, premature ejaculation(?)
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This was supposed to be an easy job for once. Another "haunted" old cabin, multiple eye witnesses and videos and pictures worth of "proof", only to end up being a hoax unintentionally created by some local kids. He's been there and done that, time and time again. So, this place should not be any different, right?
Well
 as luck would have it, Makoto would finally encounter something paranormal — a real experience, unlike the majority of his previous calls.
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That's how Makoto ended up here; bent over a desk with the air knocked from his lungs while something wet drips all over the back of his body.
Drool drips from your snarling mouth, pooling on the back of the human's shirt, while your cock drips all over the ass of his pants and slides down the sides. You keep one clawed hand on the back of the human's head, and the other on his waist to prevent him from escaping.
The scent of iron and dirt burns Makoto's nostrils, invading every deep inhale as he's just short of hyperventilating. You're obviously not any sort of spectre, nor spirit nor ghostly being—you're really more of a beast, though your features are still quite human in nature. The man's best guess is a werewolf. Whatever you are, he's seen enough to know that he doesn't want to stick around any longer.
Attempts at wiggling free don't go so well, only building up Makoto's frustration and yours. Silly as it may sound to think a beast can understand the human language, he decides to try it anyway. “What do you- hnngh
 what do you want?!” he hisses, “Are you the one
causing trouble, scaring the locals?”
You almost want to laugh at that absurd question. Causing trouble, he says. “Me? Please, ask yourself who's the real troublemaker here; the dozens of humans trashing my house and surrounding woods, or me, the guy who's lived here for decades — long before that filth migrated in.” you growl. Ignorant, ignorant humans as always.
“If anyone here is a troublemaker, it's you–” your razor-like nails dig into Makoto's side, and he winces, glaring at you with the eye not covered by his hair. “walking in here with that sexy body of yours, having the audacity to bend over and pick things up and present that fine ass for me.”
The human's heart leaps within his chest, pounding away loudly while he grips the edge of the table harder. “Your job is to help people, yeah? You wanna help these people? Then
” you lean down, covering the human's body with your heat, and whisper in his ear; “
give me the relief I need to not be so fuckin' grumpy, maybe I'll let some of their idiotic actions slide, hm?”
Truly, Makoto should protest, or try to run, literally do anything to fight this situation, but he doesn't. For some reason, he feels like
like he wants to see where this goes.
When you yank his pants down and flip up his jacket, he doesn't stop you. When you rest your heavy, leaking cock in between his cheeks and groan like a perv, he's not disgusted by it. When you let go of his head and stuff your fingers in his mouth, his tongue dances in between the spaces of your digits.
It's a surprise to you too, when the smaller human man lifts his ass up, almost inviting you—giving you permission—to fuck him. And you're not about to pass up a cute slut like this.
Makoto's knees shake when you spit on his hole, giving him at least a tiny courtesy before you break his body with your cock. Your tip pushes incessantly at his entrance, adding slippery precum to it as you swipe your cock up and down, then finally slip the head in. The human flinches, nearly causing himself to choke on your fingers, but he recovers just fine and makes no signs of protest.
Soon enough, you're moving a few inches of your length in and out, enjoying the tightness around only a third of your dick. “Sho mush
sho big
” he slurs, unable to properly enunciate with your fingers keeping his mouth occupied. Little does he realize how big your full length is. You push a little more, and the human moans again, drool spilling out from the corners of his mouth while his ass stretches to accommodate the larger girth filling it up.
“Big, yeah? You think this is big, little guy? This ain't even halfway in yet~” you taunt, keeping a tight hold on his waist. At this point, you're confident that he can take plenty more without breaking yet, so you go a little harder until half of your dick is pumping in and out. “Mmm feel that? Now that is halfway in. Feels even better, right?”
“aAahAAAHhhNn–!! gHNH-!” Makoto spasms on the table, whining something unintelligible while his body twitches. Slightly concerned, you ask him what the hell that was all about, but he doesn't answer you. Frustrated, you remove your fingers from his mouth and yank his body up by his hair, forcing him to stand while you inspect the situation.
It only takes a second for you to notice the puddle of translucent white fluid dripping from the edge of the wooden table and onto the ground, with a matching fluid dribbling from Makoto's flushed dick.
“Goddamn– cummin' before me
I haven't even fucked you yet, little guy. Is it that good for you?” you laugh, pulling the human's head back so far that he's forced to look up at you, meeting your gaze with pink cheeks and cloudy eyes.
With a newfound confidence, and a newfound horniness, you decide that your little slut is more than ready to take it all in. Makoto makes a little noise at first, but when you bottom out and, finally, begin thrusting with intent, those noises turn into happy little moans and whimpers. The fucked out look on his face is proof enough that your fat cock is hitting the right places—filling his tummy with butterflies with every long drag against his walls.
Makoto holds onto your arms for dear life, taking your length like the good boy he is, while you rail him with enough force to knock him over, if you weren't holding his smaller body. “Ah-ah-ah-yes-yes-yes-!!” he stutters, smiling like he's on cloud nine. “Ah! Hard-er! Harderharderharder~!!”
When you blow your first load in him, the tightness of Makoto's ass and the strong scent of his hormones are enough to make your eyes roll back. Your hips slam into him a few times to empty all of your cum in there, and each time only brings the human that much closer to a complete mindbreak.
“Ooohhfuck
 haah~ That was fuckin' good er- damn, I never got your name, did I?” The human shakes his head 'no', panting as his dick stays stiff as a board, red from cumming a second time.
He mutters something under his breath, but you can't quite make it out. You ask him to repeat it and he replies, “it'sss
Makoto
” in a sleepy, worn out tone.
“Well, Makoto, you think you're up for more?” you're asking, but not really asking
because you're going to fuck him again regardless. After all, all of these dumbass locals keep you stressed out every damn day — at this point, a full 24 hours of sex probably wouldn't be enough, much less one tiny orgasm.
Makoto lazily nods along, grinning up at you while you scratch his scalp affectionately. He has zero time to react as you begin thrusting again, ready to pound his hole until it's permanently molded to your shape.
His ass tightens around you again, and a third round of cum shoots out of his dick as it slaps against his warm body. His dick seems to stay hard even after that, turning redder by the minute, all while you ensure that his ass will be left gaping and oozing with your seed long after you're satisfied.
By the time you fill him up again, Makoto has orgasmed five times before, and his sixth nearly causes his voice to crack as his whole body convulses in your arms — his twitching cock shoots nothing this time, and the human is left with only dry orgasms for the rest of the day. Meanwhile, you have no intentions of stopping yet, even if it means your new human will fall unconscious—he'll still be your fuck doll while he rests.
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crime-scene-psychic · 2 days ago
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I honestly think that the Nolan Batman trilogy was the best and worst thing to happen to the Batman franchise, because on one hand, it was the first live-action instance of trying to make Batman more gritty and serious (because while the Keaton, Kilmer, Clooney movies took the story much more seriously than the 60s television show, they were still goofy at times, which is why I honestly think they're the best rendition of Batman, because they were able to balance silliness with seriousness, which is what Batman is all about, but that's obviously an entirely different thesis) which then allowed for more people to take comic book movies serious, consequently leading to the rise of the DCEU and, obviously, the MCU (we would not have the MCU today and the actual good movies that came out of it without Nolan's trilogy, there's simply no argument there).
However, the Nolan trilogy also unfortunately made "dark, gritty Batman" the norm, meaning that once anyone tries to actually have some fun with Batman, they immediately get shit on by comic book dude bros. It also created the most annoying characterization of the Joker that everyone has been trying to replicate since and no one will be able to replicate, because they simply do not understand the character (I honest to God think the closest live-action actor who has ever made a Joker character work besider Heath Ledger was Cameron Monaghan in the Gotham television show, and he wasn't even really Joker??? but at least he didn't make it everyone else's problem and was a good mix of goofy and psychotic, not just psychotic) and will never be Heath Ledger (but they don't stop trying much to my forever annoyment).
And while I can recognize the cultural and significant impact on the comic and film community that Nolan's trilogy had, it is still by far my least favorite adaptation because of how serious it takes itself (and of course, the racism. The racism is actually the bigger one for me. Fuck Christopher Nolan for that. Ra's al Ghul is NOT a white man just because you want a plot twist, and you CANNOT just erase Bane being mixed race because you fucking FEEL LIKE IT because him being mixed race is extremely relevant to his origin). Batman has had serious moments in the comics, don't get me wrong, and I know things must evolve and change over time and that I cannot expect an 80 year old character to not be further developed throughout the decades, but it almost feels as if Nolan and Goyer (the writer) read a Sparks Notes version of the history of Batman, cracked their knuckles, and said "yeah, I think I got it."
Spoiler alert: they did not get it.
When I watch the Nolan trilogy (which I haven't in quite some time and I really don't want to, even to prove a point to people on the Internet) I notice how uninspired it feels, story-wise. While the action and cinematography is excellent, the story is lacking for me, and when you're telling a story like Batman, that has decades of content, you cannot just forgo storytelling for cool special effects.
I'd much rather watch a Batman adaptation that has the shittiest effects known to man with a writer who whole-heartily cares for the characters they're writing and has taken time to research. And that's honestly one of the biggest problems the comic book film industry is having now, both DC and Marvel. They're not hiring people who actually care about these characters to write them and they're focusing much more at appealing to everyone they can instead of who the movies should be made for: fans.
You're gonna have such a harder time convincing my mom, a woman who only cares about Wonder Woman, to watch the new Captain America film than you would someone who has read the Sam Wilson Cap comic run. And while this entire issue stems from the fact that the film industry is just that, an industry, and has become less about filmmakers making art and more-so how much money investors and producers can get out of ticket sales, it is still infuriating to see franchises you care deeply about be ruined by guys just there to cash their paychecks and be done with it.
And really, the film industry as we know it needs to be fucking demolished from the inside out, but that will never happen and now we're a bit off-topic. So, back to Batman.
I think another issue I have with newer live-action Batman adaptations is that they choose to forgo a VERY IMPORTANT character when it comes to Batman/Bruce Wayne's evolution as a character and story line.
Robin.
Since whatever the fuck the casting of Chris O'Donnell in 1995 was (why was he, like, a grown man?), people have been afraid to touch a live-action Dick Grayson with a six-foot pole (besides Titans, which I'm gonna get to in a sec). Which is ridiculous, because he is, like I said, an insanely important character when it comes to showing the growth Bruce Wayne goes through.
Bruce Wayne becomes Batman because he is so angry about his parent's deaths and the corruption of Gotham that he doesn't know what else to do. All the money in the world cannot change things for the better, his own father tried and died for his troubles, and he is left with no other option. Bruce Wayne works during the day to fight corruption via charity and his company, Batman works during the night and is able to do what Bruce Wayne can't (beating the shit out of people, mainly). The two are separate sides of the same coin.
And despite this seeming like a good arrangement, it's pretty obvious in most adaptations (at least they get THAT right) that beating the shit out of people in back alleys is not a good replacement for therapy. You're able to see the toll being Batman has on Bruce. He quickly becomes more occupied with being a vigilante than being himself. Bruce needs something to break through this internal struggle and help him balance both lives.
And so a boy named Dick Grayson comes along.
Dick's so important (and so are the other Robins, of course, but Dick being the first means I have to talk about him a bit more) because he forced Bruce to get his shit together. Here's a boy who's about the same age Bruce was when his parents died, who also just saw his parents killed in front of him, and is so full of rage he has no idea what to do. Sounds familiar...
Bruce is able to help himself by helping Dick. He gives him an outlet to vent his anger and frustrations while also looking out for him in the best way he can. While there are many issues with how Robin comes to be in various comic runs (and if this was real life it would be fucking ridiculous) Dick becoming Robin is extremely important. If he hadn't been taken in by Bruce Wayne, if he'd been allowed to let that anger continue to bubble up inside of him, he probably would have killed Tony Zucco and that would have been enough to set Dick down a terrible path he might not recover from.
The same goes for Bruce. If he were to set out and kill the person who shot his parents, he wouldn't be a hero anymore because that single event would shatter the entire point of Batman, which is that he is not meant to decide who lives and dies. If he were, how would he be any different than all the villains in Gotham that he fights as Batman? How would he be better than the corrupt businessman and politicians that he has to battle as Bruce Wayne? He wouldn't.
Batman needs Robin and Robin needs Batman, because they are yin and yang. Light within darkness, darkness within light. You cannot separate these characters and still tell an accurate story, it's impossible. I think that's a huge issue Nolan's movies have, on top of many others. You cannot accurately present to me a Batman story if there is no Robin, just as you couldn't give me a Robin story without Batman.
Every Robin is so important to how Bruce Wayne as a character is developed, and disregarding this as a creator is not only disrespectful to the character, it misses the entire point. I refuse to take your adaptation of Batman seriously if you can't figure out how important Robin is. He isn't just some kid sidekick, he isn't an optional side character, he is what makes Batman human. You cannot have gritty, Neo-noir Batman and forgo Robin just because you see him as the sidekick in tights. When Batman was silly and took itself less seriously, sure, there wasn't a lot to Robin nor Batman's troubling pasts. But now that you want to deep dive into Bruce Wayne's psyche and pick apart what makes him the way he is you wanna throw in the towel and erase the part that humanizes him? Fuck. You.
You can't make a complex Bruce Wayne and take away parts that help audiences understand his complexities, that's fucking STUPID!
Titans, for all its faults and problems, will always have my gratitude as it had the fucking balls to give, without a doubt, the best and most rounded live-action adaptation of Dick Grayson we have ever seen. Titans introduces Dick at a very important and rocky time in his character arch: him leaving Bruce.
If you're not in the know, there's a falling out between Bruce and Dick that's been written a couple different ways over the years, but all comes down to Dick being "fired" from being Robin and leaving Gotham. This is a bit of a newer story line in comparison to how long the character of Dick Grayson has been around, and eventually leads to Dick becoming independent from Bruce, signalling his evolution from "side kick" to his own hero, Nightwing. However, there's issues with Dick having to give up the Robin mantel, because it's something that is whole-heartily Dick Grayson. Robin wasn't something Bruce Wayne came up with, it was the nickname his parents gave to him. Even the colors are his, those were the colors of the Flying Graysons' uniforms. Robin is much more than just a vigilante alter-ego to Dick, it is the last link he has to his past and his parents. So when this is taken away from him and given to another, this causes a huge internal struggle for Dick, as he has to deal with the anger he now has for Bruce, a man he originally looked up to and idolized. This is Dick seeing how wrong it was for Bruce to do some of the things he did to Dick, despite at the time those choices being what both needed.
The way Titans is able to portray this extremely delicate time in Dick's story line in a way that not only makes sense for his character, but also allows for growth is really admirable. Like I said, the show isn't perfect by any means (can I PLEASE get a Romani actor to play Dick PLEASE) but it's the first time I feel that the character is wholeheartedly taken serious in a live-action setting. You can tell the writers have a better idea about how the characters should interact in a live-action setting and while some choices are questionable to me, the heart is there.
Nolan's movies in comparison feel soulless and devoid of all creativity and love. He does not care about these characters, no matter how much he tries to make you think that, and he never will. Christopher Nolan, you will NEVER convince me that you give two shits about Bruce Wayne. And if you, the director, can't bother to care, why should the audience? Why should I care about your adaptation if you can't even be bothered to put an ounce of individuality into it?
With Matt Reeves' Batman films underway, things are getting worse again. For a while, we only had to deal with the shitty Joker adaptations that tried to replicate Ledger's Joker, but with the Reeves Batman movies, the film bros are making themselves known again. I remember when the new design for the Riddler dropped and I said it was shit and people on Twitter and YouTube got SO PISSY at me and told me I just don't understand Batman and that I'm childish for enjoying the designs for Gotham Riddler/ Batman Forever Riddler and whatever and that I'm stupid, which none of those things are true, I hate to be confident in anything, but I think I know more about Batman than you do, Twitter troll.
The suit sucked and the character sucked. They just created a new character but gave him the Riddler's name. That's NOT the Riddler. That's honestly closer to Hush than Riddler, so just... do that? But of course, less people know about Hush than Riddler, and you're not trying to make a film for fans, you're trying to make money, so why would you ever be so silly as to do that! I'm not gonna talk to much about the new Riddler, just because it's super old news and it's not the point I was trying to make here, it's just something that continues to piss me off when it comes to gritty recreations of characters, because Riddler really never was supposed to be some Zodiac Killer wannabe, he's supposed to be a guy who leaves you riddles and makes you solve them and he's supposed to be a little silly about it. And I'm not saying you can't do a more gritty Riddler, because Arkham Knights did it super well imo! Just don't reinvent the wheel! Don't just make a new character and call him by another's name, that's a disservice to the character themselves and their creators.
This is a hard topic, because you have people who get the point of these characters (people who have actually read a comic before and paid attention to the story) but you also have insufferable film/comic bros who worship the ground Nolan and Reeves walks upon and who don't even take time to explore the rest of the Batfamily comics (his gang of vigilante children show up in the stand-alone Batman comics, though, so I don't know how they're missing this, unless they have the reading comprehension of a goldfish, which they probably do tbh). It's why I think a lot of these weirdos don't like Gotham Knights or Wayne Family Adventures, because they hate the thought of there being any semblance of fun in the Batman franchise. Not everything needs to be doom and gloom! Let Dick Grayson be bisexual and let Bruce Wayne have a PTA rival! You can have your cake and eat it too!
I know this seems like a silly sentiment coming from a person who just wrote an entire essay on this, but maybe don't take Batman so seriously? I don't mean, of course, that you can't care about these characters, I'm actually saying the opposite! I care very deeply for these characters, so much that I obviously spat all this out. I just think some people need to fucking chill when it comes to realistically portraying Batman. There's nothing wrong with taking a more serious approach to the characters and I have no problem modernizing them, but you can't just have action hero Batman, you have to have the human behind the mask too. And if you can't balance that, then I'm sorry, but you shouldn't be making Batman adaptations, because you obviously don't understand what the character is about.
I'm nervous to see where Reeves will go with the character, and only time will tell. I've heard rumors he plans to introduce Robin, I've heard rumors he doesn't. Either way, it's obviously out of my hands and I'll have opinions either way, but I really hope he has a better understanding of the history of the franchise than Nolan. While I appreciate, again, what Nolan did for revolutionizing not only the Batman franchise but the comic movie industry as well, I can still find faults in how he went about things. I truly don't believe we can have a worthy adaptation of Batman live action without Robin and without embracing the silliness of Batman's villains and I really hope producers, writers, and directors realize that soon.
Sorry if you read all that...
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domm1etae · 1 day ago
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Are u trying to kiss me?
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yunho x mingi
oneshot | mdni
1.1k
Where Yunho and Mingi’s casual hangout goes from tipsy laughs to full-on "holy crap, are we doing this"
nsfw tags under
m/m, bottom mingi, top yunho, dryhumping, friends to ?, alcohol, drinking, makeout, kissing, horny drunks xd, blushing, subtle touching, grinding, blow job mentioned, and idk what more lol
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Yunho and Mingi had been best friends forever—practically glued to each other since middle school. They’d been through all the cringe-worthy phases together: the awkward growth spurts that left them tripping over their own feet, the regrettable haircuts they’d both agreed were “cool” at the time, and crushes so embarrassing they swore to take them to their graves. Late-night ramen runs and arguing over the last piece of kimchi? That was their love language.
But tonight was
 weird. Different.
Yunho had gotten it into his head to try out some new alcohol recipe he found online, proudly declaring it was a “genius masterpiece” that would change their lives. Naturally, Mingi volunteered to be the guinea pig. Free booze? Say less.
Now, a couple of bottles deep, the kitchen looked like a war zone—half-empty glasses scattered across the counter, sticky spills everywhere, and Mingi’s obnoxiously loud laughter echoing off the walls. He was leaning against the kitchen island, cheeks flushed red, head tilted back as he lost it over something Yunho said
 except Yunho couldn’t even remember what was so funny.
All Yunho could focus on was Mingi. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the way his lips curled into that stupidly endearing grin, the way he looked so ridiculously carefree right now. Yunho found himself staring, his heart doing this weird little flutter thing in his chest.
“Dude, you’re, like, bright red,” Yunho teased, reaching out to poke Mingi’s cheek.
Mingi swatted his hand away, still grinning. “Shut up, I’m not red. You’re red.”
“Oh wow, killer comeback,” Yunho snorted, rolling his eyes.
Mingi just laughed harder, leaning into Yunho’s space without a care in the world. His shoulder brushed Yunho’s arm, and for some reason, Yunho froze. It wasn’t like Mingi wasn’t touchy—he was always in Yunho’s space, throwing an arm around him, hanging off him like a human koala. But tonight, it felt
 different.
“You talk too much,” Mingi mumbled, his grin softening as his gaze locked on Yunho’s face.
“What?” Yunho blinked, his voice quieter than he intended.
“I said, you talk too much.” Mingi’s hand landed on Yunho’s shoulder, sliding down his arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I like touching you,” he added, completely nonchalant, like he wasn’t flipping Yunho’s entire world upside down.
Yunho blinked again. “What does that even mean?”
“It means you’re soft,” Mingi said with a teasing grin, giving Yunho’s bicep a squeeze. “Weirdly soft for a guy your size.”
“Oh my god, you’re so dumb,” Yunho groaned, shoving him lightly.
“Yeah, but I’m your dumbass,” Mingi shot back without missing a beat.
Yunho froze. That wasn’t new—Mingi said that kind of stuff all the time. But tonight, it felt different. Heavier. Loaded with something Yunho didn’t quite understand but couldn’t ignore. And when Mingi leaned in, his face suddenly way too close, that something became impossible to avoid.
“Mingi,” Yunho said, his voice barely above a whisper. “What are you doing?”
Mingi tilted his head, lips twitching into a lazy smirk. “Thinking about kissing you.”
“What?” Yunho’s voice cracked so hard he might as well have hit puberty again.
“I mean, unless you don’t want me to,” Mingi said, his smirk faltering a little.
“I—uh—are you serious right now?” Yunho stammered, his brain short-circuiting.
Mingi shrugged. “Kinda.”
“Kinda?” Yunho echoed, eyes wide.
“Fine, yes, I’m serious.”
Yunho opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t get the words out. His eyes darted to Mingi’s lips, then back to his eyes, and before he could second-guess himself, he leaned in.
The kiss started soft—almost hesitant, like neither of them could believe it was actually happening. But then Mingi made this quiet little noise, something between a sigh and a whimper, and Yunho was a goner.
Mingi kissed like he did everything else—with his whole heart. His hands slid up Yunho’s back, pulling him closer, while Yunho’s hands instinctively found Mingi’s hips. They pressed together, their bodies fitting like they were meant to, and Yunho couldn’t stop himself from deepening the kiss.
Their hands wandered, exploring each other's bodies with increasing urgency as their kisses deepened. It was more intoxicating than the alcohol they'd consumed, and neither of them could get enough.
Mingi whimpered again, his hips moving instinctively against Yunho’s. The sound shot through Yunho’s system like a live wire, it was the hottest thing Yunho has ever heard and wanted to hear it again, he couldn’t help but grind back.
Mingi's hips were unstoppable, moving faster and faster, he’d never felt this overwhelmed, this hot and bothered, not like this before.
Yunho must've noticed how frantic Mingi had become, and without missing a beat, he matched his rhythm. He slid his tongue along Mingi's neck, nipping at his jaw and biting at his ear, his voice low and teasing. "You wanna come, baby?"
Mingi's spine tingled at the sound of Yunho's voice—damn, he sounded so fucking hot talking to him like that.
“Yunho,” Mingi gasped, his head falling against Yunho’s shoulder. His whole body trembled, his nails digging into Yunho’s arms as a broken moan escaped his lips. He stilled after a second, shuddering in Yunho’s arms as he caught his breath.
Yunho held him close, one hand rubbing soothing circles on Mingi’s back. His own heart was racing, his head spinning, but all he cared about was Mingi.
“You good?” Yunho asked softly, pulling back just enough to see Mingi’s face.
Mingi let out a shaky laugh, his cheeks flushed and his grin lopsided. “Good? I’m amazing,” he said, his voice still breathless. Then his eyes flicked down to Yunho’s lap, and his grin faded. “But, uh
 you didn’t
”
Yunho shook his head quickly. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Seriously.”
Mingi’s hand shot out, grabbing Yunho’s wrist before he could move away. “No,” he said firmly, his tone more serious than Yunho had ever heard. “Let me take care of you.”
Before Yunho could protest, Mingi was sinking to his knees, his hands already working at Yunho’s belt. The alcohol haze was gone now, leaving nothing but raw, unfiltered emotion between them.
As Mingi looked up at him, his dark eyes filled with something Yunho could only describe as pure want, Yunho knew one thing for sure: this was, without a doubt, the best experiment he’d ever attempted.
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zoyarecs · 2 days ago
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i could say i’m surprised, but at this point i’m really not because you’re so damn good at everything you write, and i stand by that. i mean, all your works are amazing, but this one is definitely in my top 3, no doubt. maybe i’m a little biased because i fucking love enzo, but either way, the talent is all there (your brain duh)đŸ§đŸ»â€â™€ïž
He couldn't decide if he loved you or hated you in moments like this. Maybe both.
boy is sweating, i just know it (AS HE SHOULD)
To everyone else, you looked effortlessly put together-an angel in your festive sweater and jeans, so soft, so sweet. But Lorenzo knew better.
this little smug bastard knowing his girl like the back of his hand, it’s canon, everyone knows it hehe, and i love that you included it here 🌝
you chimed in, your voice light and teasing. "Oh, don't blame the wine. Lorenzo's just got a lot on his mind tonight."
i looooove the reader’s personality, she knows how to handle Lorenzo and i’m all for it. she’s so sassy lmao, it’s hilarious 😭 she needs to slap him
You tilted your head, a slow smile curving your lips. "Dessert already? But the night's just getting started, isn't it?" "Don't worry, love," you said softly, just loud enough for him to hear. "I'll make sure you get exactly what you want... eventually." subtle graze of your fingers against his arm or leg, pushing his limits without saying a word.
hi soooo, i need a reader x reader story like RIGHT NOW, she’s so fucking hot helleoooolosisjshstfvhaysgsg (lorenzo is 💩💩 in his pants)
You shrugged, feigning innocence. "Everyone had a good time. What's there to complain about?" Lorenzo took a slow step forward, his gaze fixed on yours. "You know exactly what."
he’s so done but as i said ‘prove do seu veneno’ âœ‹đŸ»âœŠđŸ»
He gestured toward the sweater with a flick of his fingers. "Go on, then. Show me." Without giving you a chance to say another word, he dropped you onto the bed with a force that made the mattress bounce.
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nothing—JUST THIS LEONA MARIA WHEN I CAT H YOUEJAYWYWHHEHWGWHWB
Without warning, he yanked at the straps of your lingerie, pulling them down just enough to expose your breasts. His hands immediately moved to cup them, squeezing and kneading them with rough insistence.
the way i imagine this in my head
 i’m so đŸ« đŸ« đŸ« đŸ«  because he’s the type of guy who does stuff like this without any warning
"You think you can tease me like this and get away with it?"
i would tease him on purpose after this
"Begging already?" "Patience, darling," "I wonder if you've been like this all night, haven't you? Wet and needy, waiting for me to touch you."
cocky smug bastard fuck me and yes you’re right enzo đŸ€­đŸ€­đŸ€­
"You like that, don't you?" he purred, slapping your tits again, harder this time. "Like it when I treat you like a little slut."
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PUT THIS ON MY GRAVE, LEONA THIS IS MAKING ME FEEL THINGS
He buried himself deep inside you, his fingers still squeezing your tits, almost as if to ground himself. You both stayed there for a moment, still tangled together, breathless and satiated. Lorenzo leaned down, kissing your neck softly, his voice low and teasing.
i love that he’s treating us like a princess after ruining us, that’s so sweet of him. i want to slap him so bad
LEONA, this was incredible. the dialogues, the tension, the group moments—everything was spot on and made me feel so involved in the narrative. 😣😣😣😣 your works always make me feel like i’m actually in it with them, and i love that because you’re so fucking talented, omfg, don’t even get me started. and the smut?! GIRL, IT WAS SO HOT. i’m obsessed with it, with everything you do, actually!!!!! đŸ™‡đŸ»â€â™€ïžđŸ™‡đŸ»â€â™€ïž
FICMAS #9— WRAPPED IN RED / lorenzo berkshire
december 27th
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lorenzo berkshire x fem reader
summary: surprising your beloved boyfriend in your favorite festive colors

warnings: smut mdni, unprotected piv, degradation/praise, lingerie, nipple sucking, titty slapping (?), creampie, established relationship
words: 3.8k
a/n: sorry i’ve been kind of MIA the past two days bbs, i will get to my inbox soon <3 (forgot to do the taglist when i first posted this so i added it now!)
navigation ficmas masterlist
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Lorenzo was always calm, always collected. He moved through life with the kind of ease that made everyone else envy him—a permanent smirk tugging at his lips, a lazy confidence in every stride. But tonight? Tonight, that composure was cracked, splintering with every passing second.
And it was your fault.
Because even while his friends laughed, argued, and passed bottles of Firewhisky around the table, Lorenzo didn’t see them. He didn’t hear the clink of glasses or the familiar banter filling the room. No, the only thing he saw was an X-ray version of you, his mind peeling back the thick-knit sweater and denim jeans you wore to reveal the little red-laced secret you’d shown him before everyone arrived.
 He couldn’t decide if he loved you or hated you in moments like this. Maybe both.
You sat beside him, close enough that your knee occasionally bumped his under the table. To everyone else, you looked effortlessly put together—an angel in your festive sweater and jeans, so soft, so sweet. But Lorenzo knew better. 
And he was trying to behave—Merlin, he was trying. But every subtle movement of yours, every time you reached for your glass of wine or leaned forward to laugh at one of Theo’s jokes, he felt the blood rush to his head and lower. You were a menace.
“You good, mate?” Blaise’s voice jolted him back to the moment. 
Lorenzo blinked, quickly plastering on a grin that he hoped didn’t look too strained. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Blaise shrugged, tipping his glass toward Lorenzo. “You just seem a little... distracted. Too much wine already?”
Before Lorenzo could answer, you chimed in, your voice light and teasing. “Oh, don’t blame the wine. Lorenzo’s just got a lot on his mind tonight.”
He glanced at you, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. You gave him an innocent smile, one that made his chest tighten and his fists clench under the table. 
Draco leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Bet it’s work. You always get that look when you’re thinking about work.”
“Yeah,” Lorenzo muttered, forcing himself to look away from you. “Work.”
“Lighten up, Berkshire.” Pansy reached for the bottle to refill her glass. “It’s Christmas. No one wants to hear about whatever boring Ministry nonsense you’ve got going on.”
“It’s not boring,” Theo cut in, gesturing with his fork. “Enzo probably has a very important case. You know, like illegal broomstick modifications or... I don’t know, someone stealing cauldrons.”
The table burst into laughter, and even Lorenzo managed a weak chuckle. But his thoughts weren’t on the conversation. They were on you—on the way you crossed your legs, the way you kept tugging at your sweater like you were hiding something beneath. 
He barely registered when Mattheo passed him the tray of roast potatoes, only grabbing it when Theo nudged his shoulder. “You’re really out of it, mate.”
“I’m fine,” Lorenzo said quickly, setting the tray down with a bit more force than necessary. He glanced at the clock, then at the empty plates around the table. “Should we bring out dessert?”
You tilted your head, a slow smile curving your lips. “Dessert already? But the night’s just getting started, isn’t it?” 
If you weren’t sitting in a room full of people, Lorenzo would’ve kissed that smirk off your face—or done something else entirely. Instead, he swallowed hard, leaning back in his chair and gripping his glass like it might anchor him.  
“Don’t worry, love,” you said softly, just loud enough for him to hear. “I’ll make sure you get exactly what you want... eventually.” 
Lorenzo groaned under his breath, earning a curious glance from Draco. This was going to be a long night.
The evening dragged on in fits and starts, each laugh and clink of glasses feeling like a small eternity. Lorenzo kept himself occupied pouring drinks, clearing plates, and chiming in on conversations when necessary, but his attention was always split. The rest of the group was far too absorbed in their own stories to notice the tension simmering beneath the surface—except for you. 
You leaned into every teasing word, every subtle graze of your fingers against his arm or leg, pushing his limits without saying a word. By the time Theo and Blaise started debating the best Quidditch team of the decade, Lorenzo was practically vibrating with the effort it took to keep his composure.
“Alright,” Pansy announced at last, standing and stretching her arms overhead. “I think that’s my cue to head out before Blaise starts drafting us for his imaginary team.”
“Imaginary?” Blaise shot back. “I could make the Cannons win if I had half a chance.”
Draco rolled his eyes, standing to help Pansy with her coat. “If Blaise keeps this up, we’ll all be here until morning.”
A flurry of goodbyes followed, with everyone exchanging hugs and well-wishes. You played the perfect hostess, ushering them out with a warm smile while Lorenzo stood stiffly at the door, offering little more than clipped nods. He was polite enough to keep up appearances, but you could see the strain in the set of his jaw, the tightness in his shoulders.
Finally, the door clicked shut, and the silence that followed felt deafening.
You turned, leaning casually against the door as you looked at him. “Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Lorenzo said nothing at first, his eyes scanning your face before dropping lower—to the hem of your sweater, which you had just barely started to tug up before letting it fall again. The corner of his mouth twitched, but it wasn’t a smile. It was something darker, more dangerous.
“Not bad?” His voice was low, quiet in a way that sent shivers down your spine. “You think that was not bad?”
You shrugged, feigning innocence. “Everyone had a good time. What’s there to complain about?”
Lorenzo took a slow step forward, his gaze fixed on yours. “You know exactly what.”
You laughed softly, pushing off the door and sauntering past him toward the living room. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You don’t, huh?” He was behind you in an instant, his hand closing gently but firmly around your wrist. The heat of his touch sent a jolt through you, and you turned to face him, your heart pounding. 
He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You’ve been driving me mad all night, love. And now you want to play coy?”
You tilted your head, your lips curving into a sly smile. “I don’t know... maybe I just wanted to see if you could handle it.”
Lorenzo’s grip tightened just slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to let you know you were treading on thin ice. “Handle it? Sweetheart, you have no idea what you’ve just started.”
Before you could respond, he released your wrist and stepped back, his eyes roaming over you with an intensity that made your skin flush. He gestured toward the sweater with a flick of his fingers. “Go on, then. Show me.”
You hesitated for a moment, letting the tension stretch just long enough to tease him. The air between you felt thick, thick with something that wasn’t just anticipation, but need. Lorenzo was standing so still, his jaw clenched tight, his gaze trained on you like you were the only thing in the world. 
And you, of course, were taking your sweet time. You took a step forward, brushing your fingertips across the collar of his shirt. “What’s the matter, Enzo? You look a little... tense.”
He didn’t respond at first. His hands flexed at his sides, a muscle in his neck tensing as he tried—unsuccessfully—to hold onto whatever sliver of control he had left. But you could feel it, the way the air between you had shifted, crackling with something dangerous. 
Then, before you could blink, he was there—his large hands gripping your waist with bruising force, lifting you off the ground and throwing you over his shoulder without a word.
You gasped, more out of surprise than anything, but the playful smirk you wore didn’t falter. “Enzo! What—”
But he didn’t care to hear it. His steps were long and measured as he marched toward your bedroom, every move deliberate, as if he was on a mission. The door slammed behind him with a finality that made your stomach flutter with nervous excitement. 
Without giving you a chance to say another word, he dropped you onto the bed with a force that made the mattress bounce. The sound of your heart thudded in your chest, and for a split second, everything was quiet. 
Lorenzo stood at the edge of the bed, staring down at you like you were a puzzle he had to figure out. He dragged his gaze up and down your body, lingering on the way your sweater stretched across your chest, the hint of red lace peeking out from beneath it. His eyes darkened, almost black with hunger.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me tonight?” His voice was rough, ragged, and you could feel it, feel the restraint slipping away with every passing second.
You grinned, leaning back against the pillows like you didn’t have a care in the world. “I think I have a pretty good idea,” you teased, running your hand down your side, accentuating the way the fabric of your jeans hugged your hips. 
Lorenzo’s breath hitched. “You think it’s funny?” he growled. He didn’t wait for your response. He was done with your teasing, done with pretending to be patient. He reached down, yanking your sweater off over your head in one swift motion, the sound of fabric ripping filling the air. His hands were all over you now, rough and demanding, tracing the delicate lines of your body like he couldn’t get enough.
There, beneath it all, was the lingerie. Red lace that hugged your curves, teasing him even more than you had with your coy little glances and touches all night. The delicate lace barely covered your chest, and he could see it—see the way your nipples peeked through, hard and waiting for him. His eyes flicked up to yours, and for the briefest moment, he saw that glint of mischief in them.
“You’re such a fucking brat,” he muttered, running his hand up your thigh, feeling the soft fabric of your jeans under his fingertips. “You think you can just walk around in front of me like this and not expect me to lose my mind?”
You tilted your head, your voice sweet yet laced with defiance. “Maybe you shouldn’t have invited everyone over then.” 
Lorenzo growled, shaking his head before he leaned over you, his lips trailing along your neck, tasting your skin with each breath. 
“You’re lucky I don’t tear this off right now,” he muttered against your skin. “But I’m going to enjoy this, I’m going to take my time, because you deserve every second of this.”
He traced the edge of your lingerie with his fingers, his touch so slow and deliberate it made your breath catch in your throat. You squirmed beneath him, desperate for more, but he wouldn’t give it to you—not yet. His lips moved lower, pressing kisses along your collarbone, down to the delicate swell of your chest where the lace barely contained your breasts.
You moaned softly, and it was enough. Lorenzo could feel the restraint inside of him snap.
Without warning, he yanked at the straps of your lingerie, pulling them down just enough to expose your breasts. His hands immediately moved to cup them, squeezing and kneading them with rough insistence. You gasped, arching into his touch as he leaned down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. The heat of his tongue and the way he sucked and nipped at you made your body tremble, your hands gripping his hair as you urged him on. 
He pulled away, his eyes flashing with something dark, something primal. “You wanted to tease me? Now you get to feel what it’s like when I can’t keep my hands off you.”
The next moments were a blur of frantic movement, his hands and lips devouring you, tearing at your clothes with such urgency you could barely keep up. But you didn’t mind. You wanted this, needed it, wanted to feel him lose himself in you. 
And soon, it wasn’t just about the teasing anymore. It was about claiming, about showing just how badly you had driven him to the edge.
He tugged your jeans down your legs with little care for the slow buildup he’d promised—he was done with that. You weren’t in the mood for waiting either. The moment your legs were bare, his hands were back, grazing over your skin like he couldn’t get enough. 
You let out a soft whimper when he knelt between your legs, eyes dark and focused on the lingerie that had driven him mad all night. The red lace, so simple, so soft, now felt like a taunt—a promise of what he hadn’t had, what he’d been denied for too long. He ran his hands along the edges of the fabric, just skimming the sides, before tugging it down slowly, exposing you to him fully.
Your breath hitched when the cool air hit your skin, and Lorenzo wasted no time, pressing his lips to your inner thighs, his breath warm and heavy against you. His hands were still on your tits, gripping and squeezing as he kissed and nipped his way closer, the anticipation making your body tremble beneath him.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, before he finally pulled back to look at you fully. His eyes flickered between the lace remnants at your waist and your flushed face, a smile tugging at his lips, though it was filled with nothing but hunger. “You think you can tease me like this and get away with it?”
You couldn’t help the teasing grin that crossed your face. “Maybe I can.”
His gaze turned intense. "We'll see about that." He stood up quickly, pulling his shirt over his head, exposing his chest to you. The movement was fluid, almost predatory, and the way he reached for his trousers sent a thrill straight through you. The urgency in his actions was both exciting and nerve-wracking—he wasn’t just acting on desire, he was acting on something else too. Something deeper, something urgent.
Before you could even react, Lorenzo was back over you, pressing you into the bed with his body, pinning your arms above your head. His lips found yours in a bruising kiss, hot and demanding. You gasped into his mouth when you felt the pressure of him, hard and insistent, against your stomach. His body was tense, his every movement purposeful as he ground against you, unable to hold back.
You moaned against his lips, desperate for more, for something, anything. "Enzo..." you whispered, pulling your hands free to thread them through his hair, tugging him closer. "Please."
He pulled back just enough to look down at you, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Begging already?" he murmured, his voice thick with lust. But there was something in his eyes—something softer that made your chest tighten. His hand moved to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing over your skin in a fleeting moment of tenderness before he returned to his more urgent touch.
You felt the heat between your legs intensify, an ache so deep it threatened to consume you, and you didn’t want to hold back anymore. "I want you, Enzo," you breathed, the words leaving your lips before you could stop them.
Lorenzo’s smirk deepened, but there was a teasing, almost mocking quality to it as he looked down at you, eyes dark with desire. His voice was low, taunting, as he leaned down, brushing his lips against yours softly before pulling away, his breath hot against your cheek. 
“Patience, darling,” he murmured, his fingers trailing down your body again, barely skimming over the lace of your lingerie before he slid his hand between your legs. His fingers brushed against the soft fabric of your panties, teasing just enough to make your hips buck involuntarily.
You gasped, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through you, but you didn’t get a chance to savor it. He moved faster, tugging at your panties just enough to expose you, fingers now teasing your sensitive skin, circling slowly, deliberately. 
“You’re so wet,” he said softly, almost in awe, as he dragged his fingers lower. The way he spoke sent another rush of heat through you. “I wonder if you’ve been like this all night, haven’t you? Wet and needy, waiting for me to touch you.”
His fingers slid inside you without warning, and you gasped, your back arching against the bed as you dug your fingers into the sheets. Lorenzo’s thumb found your clit, circling it in a rhythm that sent your mind spinning. His pace was slow at first, just enough to drive you wild, but he wasn’t gentle. Not tonight.
“You’re fucking dripping,” he muttered, the words laced with both admiration and amusement. “Aw, poor baby. Do you want me to make you cum?”
You could only moan in response, your body reacting to his every touch, every movement. His fingers curved inside you, pressing against that spot that made your vision blur and your chest tighten. He leaned down, kissing the side of your neck as you squirmed beneath him, desperate for more.
“I bet you’ve been thinking about this all night, haven’t you?” he whispered, his voice a low, rough purr against your skin. “Wondering when I’d finally take what’s mine.”
You nodded, barely able to focus, your breath coming in shallow gasps. His fingers increased their pace, the pressure in your core building higher, tighter, until you were on the edge of losing yourself.
But just as you felt yourself teetering, Lorenzo pulled his fingers away, leaving you breathless and aching. He lifted his head, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he watched your body writhe beneath him, desperately trying to find some relief.
“You’re not getting off that easy,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “Not tonight.”
Before you could protest, he pulled you up, your legs wrapping around him as he kissed you again, deep and forceful. You didn’t get a chance to catch your breath before his hands were on your waist, lifting you effortlessly. You gasped as he positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes locked on yours, the heat between you both palpable.
“Now,” he growled, “I’m going to make you feel it.”
With one swift movement, he thrust into you, and the world around you seemed to fade into nothing. The pleasure hit you instantly, a deep, overwhelming pressure that had you gasping for air. He didn’t hold back. His pace was brutal from the start, each thrust driving deeper, filling you completely. The way he moved, so forceful, so confident—it made everything inside you tighten.
You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning, your hands scrambling to grab at his back, pulling him closer. “Enzo
 Please
”
“Please what?” he taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart. I want to hear you beg for it.”
You swallowed hard, the words feeling like they were caught in your throat, but he was relentless. His thrusts were deep and unforgiving, each one hitting a new level of pleasure you hadn’t expected. His hands were everywhere—gripping your hips, slapping at your ass, as if marking you, claiming you. His lips were on your neck, biting, sucking, leaving bruises that only added to the fire burning inside you.
“Enzo
” you gasped again, unable to control the way your body moved against his. “Please, harder
”
He grinned against your skin, a breathless laugh escaping his lips. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
With a growl, he shifted his angle, pushing into you even deeper, his body slamming against yours with each thrust. You moaned louder, the sound filling the room as you felt the tension in your body intensify, the pressure building in ways you couldn’t control. His hand moved up to your chest, gripping at your breast through the lace, squeezing and pinching as he gave your nipple a sharp twist.
You gasped, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body, making everything inside you tighten even more. He laughed darkly, his breath heavy in your ear as he slapped at your tits, the sting of the contact making you wince, but the pleasure only grew. 
“You like that, don’t you?” he purred, slapping your tits again, harder this time. “Like it when I treat you like a little slut.”
The sting of the slap made you gasp, your body trembling beneath him, but it was all part of the overwhelming pleasure. Your breath came in ragged bursts as he alternated between slapping and groping your tits, squeezing them harshly through the lace, pulling at your nipple again with a cruel twist.
“Enzo, please
” you whimpered, unable to stop yourself from writhing beneath him, your body aching with need. “I can’t
 I’m so close
”
“Close?” he repeated, a wicked grin forming on his lips as he slapped your tits again, the sound of his hand meeting your skin ringing in the air. “You want to come, sweetheart? You need to beg me for it.”
His thrusts grew more forceful, more erratic, as he continued to abuse your tits, slapping them with no mercy. The sting mixed with the pleasure, and you could feel yourself tightening again, your body responding to his every movement. You couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Please, Enzo
 I need you to let me come,” you gasped, your voice desperate. 
With one final, deep thrust, he gave you what you wanted, and you exploded in waves of pleasure, your body seizing beneath him as you cried out his name. Lorenzo’s thrusts didn’t stop; he followed you, his own release coming in a sharp, breathless groan. He buried himself deep inside you, his fingers still squeezing your tits, almost as if to ground himself.
You both stayed there for a moment, still tangled together, breathless and satiated. Lorenzo leaned down, kissing your neck softly, his voice low and teasing.
“I love you,” he whispered, his hands softening their grip on your chest. “But don’t think for a second I’ll let you off that easy again.”
You smiled, the aftershocks of your orgasm still trembling through you. “Maybe next time I’ll make you wait longer.”
Lorenzo chuckled darkly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “I’ll make sure you regret that.”
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​​ficmas taglist: @winnie1emon @ur-local-wizard @satosugu4-ever @ankoluvs @superstargirll @slytherin-princess-x @abeoavita @mattheoriddle101 @georgiastars13 @smoooore @mattheoriddles-sluttt @2dloveshp @mattysprincess @catching-fire-in-the-wind @revesephemeres @esmerai-artemis @clar2aa @iamaconfusedpan
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the-100-days-of-junkan · 2 days ago
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Day 100
One hundred fuckin’ days. God. Actually happened. 
I spent 3/4ths of the year drawing more Junkan art than I think anyone else on the internet ever has. Which might be presumptuous of me, maybe i’m just looking in the wrong places y’know? I’m a solid second place bare minimum.
And like, that’s still pretty funny right? This whole event is something I’m gonna cherish forever, the memories, the art itself, the friends I made because of it. But like, c’mon. I drew 100 fucking pieces, learned new skills like digital painting, animation, all that shit, for a ship that I used to hate, and a ship that for the longest time I thought was gonna get me fuckin banished to the deepest depths of the internet just for drawing a poor sketch of them kissing. This ship has become more deeply entwined into who I am as a person that it’s passed up Tokomaru, the ship that literally made me realize I’m a woman.
It’s gotta be at least a little funny, right?
Ah but enough of that, I can talk more on that subject a bit later. For now I reckon I should focus on our art piece for today! Wouldn’t you agree?
Yeah it’s the Wedding. I’d say even before Day 60 I decided the final pic of the Project would be The Wedding, even before I decided to draw a comic of the proposal. Because like, c’mon, it’s basic but how the fuck else was I supposed to end of the project? With something that ISN’T a wedding????
And very shocking to hear after this entire project has gone by, but I did in fact scale back this pic massively. You wanna know what the original idea was?? 22 images, each one depicting different parts of the wedding and afterparty, including the kiss at the end. And the kiss at the end? I was gonna feature every character from the 3 main classes + Ruruka, Seiko, and Yasuke. Fucking why??? Because Excess is all I know people ITS ALL I KNOW.
However I had decided that I wanted this project finished and ready before October, because I wanted to do the Vampire Fic to coincide with Day 30. And again, say it with me here, “Jem was severely burnt out on the project!” 
So it went from 22 images, to “However many I can get done in time + the big group shot” and then that became “Just the big group shot,” and then finally, i cracked and just drew The Kiss. 
Speaking of which before I divulge some more info about the original plan, i’ll get all the fun things about the actual art I did go through with.
As you can tell I shaded this differently from anything in the project. I normally have two different ways of shading art, I don’t think these are the proper words but I call them Soft Shading and Hard Shading. If you need immediate examples, Day 95 was Soft Shaded, and Day 94 was Hard Shaded. Generally speaking I prefer to do Hard Shading, as I think it works better with the rest of my style, and also just looks better in general. Soft Shading is what I do for pics with like, a very specific tone and energy to them that I can’t really put to words. It’s also significantly easier to do compared to Hard Shading. 
A few months back for a commission of Kaede and Marceline from Adventure Time hanging out (yes this is relevant) I was trying to capture a very specific aesthetic that I’m obsessed with called Frutiger Aero. This mostly was in the background, however when lighting the pic I needed a very specific aesthetic that I didn’t know how to capture with just one of my shading styles. So . . . I fuckin did both. And in my opinion (which is crazy because this requires I compliment myself) it looked fuckin great. That said it was significantly harder.
I think I’ve done it only one other time after this, but I don’t remember what the pic was if it exists at all. But obviously as you can see, I decided that to really commemorate the occasion I’d go all out and do both shading styles again. It was very worth it, but fun fact! Doing this style on Roses is a fucking pain in the ass and if I ever have to do it again I will fucking SCREAM!
Anyway, the pic was definitely a lot harder to work on because of that stylistic choice, but the end result makes up for it by a massive margin. 
Hope ya’ll like the dresses because they were the hardest part of this! Fun fact, Val (She’s back!) did a chapter for her legendary Year of Love and Despair fic where the gals are in wedding dresses. And the designs she came up with are amazing! I still really wanna draw em when I get a chance! However! I woulda felt bad if I just yoinked em for this, so I had to do everything in my power to come up with completely different designs. And given that I am a perfectionist, that was significantly more difficult than it probably shoulda been. But I did it! I really like how Mikan’s dress turned out specifically, I thought giving her a fit that covered up more skin than a normal wedding dress would be fitting for her. Also I really like drawing Mikan’s hair in a bun, I never had a chance to say that so I’mma say that now. 
Wow fuck I just realized there’s probably a lot of random details or thought processes I have on this ship that I just never got an opportunity to talk about, either because I had a different topic to cover on previous posts, or I just forgot, or I just didn’t have a good segway! Crazy right? 
Also yes! Shading Junko’s hair was heavenly~
Okay i’ve run out of words on the art. Time to tell you about everything I cut! Now I’m sad to say but no, I didn’t actually cut 22 planned images. I never got far enough to actually figure out each individual pic. Only a small handful, which I almost speedily sketched out for this post, but I don’t have it in me, especially on my current schedule. So i’ll just do my best to describe what I had in mind!
First piece would have been Mukuro being on Security for the Wedding, because of course. She would have also enlisted the help of Mondo and his entire gang, because that combination in this context sounds funny. Don’t worry though they were well behaved.
Ruruka was gonna handle the Wedding Cake, with Teruteru on the rest of the food. Either Ruruka or Mukuro would have been giving him a death glare during the process of course.
Behind the scenes Mikan would be getting prepped for the Wedding. And by prepped I mean Seiko, Ibuki, and Sayaka would be trying very hard to keep Mikan from crying as a result of how happy and overwhelmed she is (Ruining her makeup). Seiko trying to blow air into her eyes to keep them dry while Sayaka and Ibuki desperately try to find an outlet to plug in a hairdryer in because that would be significantly more efficient.
On the reverse, Junko would be doing all of the work on prepping herself for the wedding, with Ruruka, Yasuke and Tsumugi standing in the background, questioning why they’re even there. Junko would yell at them that they’re morale support in this instance. 
Warriors of Hope would of course be there being scamps of course, Kotoko would be the Flower Girl because I play favorites. Toko and Komaru would probably be there trying to keep them in line.
I didn’t have anything in mind with the afterparty but I more than likely would have drawn the drunkest Junko I possibly could. Maybe even Mikan too!
For the Bouquet Throwing I was gonna have Syo jumping at it like a feral animal, and thinking about it now I’d probably also have Tenko jumping for it with killing intent in her eyes.  
And I think that’s it for ideas I had prior to cutting them. Which means it’s time for me to get sappy about the fact that the project is finally ending! Fuck! Usually when I write these I try to have a decent idea ahead of time of what I’m gonna fucking say, this time however I’m just gonna talk, and i’m gonna keep talking until I’m either struck down by nature or I run out of things to say. Sorry! 
This is going to get silly, sappy, and maybe even a little venty, jump in at your own risk. 
If you told me at the beginning of 2024 that I was going to draw 100 days worth of Junkan related art, including a gif and a music video, 2 comics, and also get back into writing to make gay fanfic, I’d be so god damn confused. Because what the fuck right? And that’s not even counting everything I drew AFTER I fuckin finished! Like hold on a minute i’m gonna count up how many times i’ve drawn these two, including the individual comic pages from the three i’ve made.
204.
Fucking, I. I didn’t even know we passed 200 by this point. 
And that’s not counting the sketches I’ve drawn on paper in my sketchbook. It’s also not counting unfinished pics. It ain’t counting the art I might draw WHILE writing this! It’s not counting the stuff I probably forgot about while searching my files cause I suck at naming the aforementioned files!
AND I’M STILL NOT BURNED OUT EITHER?
I got burned out on the project sure but the moment I had the freedom to do whatever I wanted I fucking IMMEDIATELY drew a Junkan pic for Halloween. And then I kept going, and then I didn’t fucking stop, and I don’t think I CAN stop! I don’t even WANT to stop but you’d think by now I’d be like “Well I don’t have any ideas right now-” NO I HAVE TOO FUCKING MANY IDEAS! I KEEP FUCKING THINKING OF MORE IDEAS, AND THEN I COME UP WITH AN AU AND THAT COULD HAVE LIKE 10,000 MORE IDEAS. JUNKAN IS A MENTAL HYDRA YOU DRAW ONE PIC 2 MORE POP UP IN ITS PLACE!
I can draw these pieces in like a few hours if not shorter, because I don’t have to fucking sketch them properly anymore. I feel like I shouldn’t be able to do that! This ship has done unspeakable things to both my mind and body! And i’ve said it before but i’m not trying to complain here, as you’ll see when I start talking about this ship like it saved me from falling into the grand canyon. But it’s just, so, absurd???
Danganronpa is only like my third favorite piece of media behind Bo-bobo and Fairy Tail and yet I’ve drawn more art of JUST THIS SHIP than I have of just general art of those series! That’s not even counting all the other ship art I’ve done! Like Tokomaru! Remember Tokomaru? The ship that is responsible for me being a woman and being able to find the happiness of being my true self? I think i’ve drawn that and Syomaru a combined like, 20 times across my entire life as a DR fan. ALL OF THIS JUNKAN ART SAY FOR LIKE, 5 OF THEM WERE IN ONE YEAR. 
And bare minimum for 2025, assuming I don’t make ANYTHING ELSE OF THEM (Which I will. You know I will.) I’m gonna draw 21 pics for Junkan Week, because you know I’m gonna just draw EVERY prompt from all three lists. And then 30 more for the Month of Junkan (Will try to have that prompt list up soon btw!). So that’s 51 I’m going to do. That’s over half of what I realistically was supposed to do bare minimum for this project. That’s so fucking much, and I’m gonna do it, because I love this ship, and also it sounds REALLY funny if I did that. 
I think genuinely the only other ships I could fucking do this for are like, Toko/Syomaru or Flarelu. Maybe Togachako if I did a reread of MHA to get me back in the spirit for that series. And even then i’m not sure I physically have it in me to go that distance even for those ships. I certainly want to draw a lot of them, especially Flarelu because that’s a ship so rare that it makes Soft Junkan (before I fucking flooded the tag on tumblr) look like a bustling city.
Speaking of tags, I still think about sometimes how like, the Junkan Tag maybe got like, a post like, a few times every month. The normal amount for a ship of this general Rarity. And now it’s like, for so many pages, just half of it is me. Because I was asked to bring something to eat to the function for the buffet table and I fucking crashed a Food Truck through the wall. I feel bad about it sometimes, sometimes. I’m imagining the scenario in my head where someone who likes Junkan but didn’t check the tag super often because it wasn’t like, a super commonly updated one, and then pressing it for the first time in a year and being like “What the fuck happened here?” You know what still shocks me? Not once have I gotten hate for any of this. I was so fucking scared for like half of this projects creation that I was going to get bombarded with people angry at me for shipping this, and NOTHING. I’m not complaining I’m just confused. I have to at least have had a few people block me right? It’s just so eerily quiet. And it’d be one thing if it’s just a thing of like “Why would people who hate Junkan check the Junkan tag” because yeah, that makes sense. But also I’ve been putting at least one Junkan pic in both characters tags every day for 3 fucking months, there had to be at least one Mikan super fan who is eternally fed up with my antics. Like, awesome that I didn’t get harassed over a ship, that actually gives me a little hope that nature is healing, just. Crazy right???
So like. Fuck.
I guess I’ll get to the sappy shit now?? I think I ran out of things to be confused about in terms of what I did this year because of this ship. So I guess I’ll just start talking about how much it means to me, both the ship, and this project. 
(trigger warning, mentions of abuse, nothing super graphic in my opinion but could be mildly uncomfortable. Either skim ahead or stop here)
2024 kinda, fuckin sucked for me to be honest?? I have like 2 good things I can speak for it in terms of major positive points (Obviously I had other good experiences but if I just said “Oh I read a I Love Amy and it was one of the greatest things ever” it lacks the same impact). Not counting getting this project to like, work, obviously.
I finished the 5 chapters of my webcomic that I wanted prepped so I could actually make a website and start posting (ignore how I didn’t make the fuckin website yet). And I started dating my darling Yves and Rivette. Who I cherish deeply. I made other friends this year, a lot of them in part cause of this ship. And I went through a lot of emotional change. 
But to get that change it required I unpack a lot. And by a lot, I mean one bag that was filled to the brim. Gonna try real hard not to like, talk about this in excessive detail or turn this post into some woe is me bullshit, but I feel like I should at least make mention of it.
At the beginning of the year, I asked Yves (who I wasn’t dating yet) about my previous romantic relationship. And she confirmed to me that, based on everything I had told her about it overtime, that yes, it was abusive.
During 2021-2022 I was in a relationship with a girl I won’t name here, you wouldn’t know her of course, it was a completely different community. It started out as friends, I got a crush, jumped at it because I was still inexperienced with feelings, and it didn’t work out. And that’s the simple way of putting it, and that’s how I viewed it till Yves opened my eyes.
From the getgo it wasn’t healthy. She was manipulative, constantly had outbursts towards me, and yanked me around emotionally constantly. I would later find out that she had a previous history of just, generally being an awful person. Even after we broke up we still stuck around each other, mostly because I felt guilty for breaking up with her, and was also just generally terrified of her. The abuse was all mental of course, it was long distance so she couldn’t hurt me physically at all. 
I of course, didn’t process any of that as me being abused, I even viewed myself as being at fault for a lot of it. The experience was so bad that I identified as Aromantic because just convinced I wasn’t able to feel proper romantic feelings for someone. It wasn’t till much later when I got another crush that I realized that I’m Panromantic, and me being Aro (and very briefly Aegoromantic) was basically just a coping mechanism to write off my trauma. I still feel guilty about that since it feels like I devalued the importance of people who do identify on the Aro spectrum, but that isn’t relevant here.
Point is, a lot of bad shit happened to me because of that woman, and even after a year and a half of us not talking because we both mutually decided it would be better for us to not stay in contact, she still found ways to worm her way back into my life. One conversation we had just by chance, to catch up, that’s all it took and I was thinking of her again. I never talked to her after that, and I have her blocked now, but I didn’t need to for shit to hit the fan.
So I asked Yves that question, she answered, and I now suddenly had to deal with the fact that I was abused, and that I was traumatized as a result. And like, I never really viewed myself as a traumatized person up till that point, I viewed myself as someone who wasn’t very smart but tried her best to do good by people who didn’t have too much baggage beyond some sucky school memories.
When I had to unpack what happened that kind of spiraled into severe Self Confidence Issues and even more Self Hate. I struggled to accept even the slightest compliment if it wasn’t directed at my art. The reason I even quit weed is because I used it almost exclusively to suppress all of the negative emotions I felt. 
I’m in a somewhat better place now, I’m trying to give myself more breaks from artwork, rather than overworking myself constantly just to feel something (and being fully open, I realized near the end of december that I pretty much used Overworking as a form of self harm). I’m gonna really try this year to like, actually let people be nice to me, and in turn try to be nicer to myself. And I have goals to work towards for this year. But I wouldn’t have gotten to this point without two things. One, my girlfriend Yves, who even before we started dating helped me through multiple breakdowns and has helped/allowed me to grow into a (I hope) better, healthier person. And even after I got over most of my feelings related to my Ex, has continued to help me cope with my self hatred. I cherish every moment we share and wouldn’t trade her for anything.
And the other thing, which I know will sound silly right after I talked about my girlfriend, is well. Junkan.
Let me say this, I didn’t get into Junkan to cope with my abuse. I have toyed with the notion in my head before and the idea of it pisses me off to a quite frankly irrational degree. I was into Junkan before I realized my issues. If you want my coping mechanism it’s Alex from Minecraft and no I’m not explaining that right now.
That said, it, like all the yuri ships I like, was a source of comfort for me. Originally I read stuff like Tokomaru fics just to help me reduce stress, back when I dealt with really severe anger issues due to the online spaces I occupied. And to this day reading a nice, fluff fic can calm me down a bit. But now they can serve a much deeper sense of comfort, away from all the bullshit, and obviously, gave me a way to distract/calm myself from the storm of negative emotions and memories that filled the brain.
I see myself in Mikan more than I’d like to personally admit, obviously not to the extreme, but in aspects. So it’s just, nice to see a better timeline for her with Junko, ones where she gets to be happy and maybe even heal as well. It just so happens that I also think there’s a lot of genuinely good potential for the ship from either a canon or non-canon perspective, and Junko’s just a really enjoyable character. 
Working on this project helped too. It gave me a way to dive deeper into my love for this ship, and gave me a sense of purpose and validation that helped me work through the rough. Whether it was the really bad mental health days, or just a shit streak of commission work that tore away at me because my job even if I love drawing can be a real drag at times, and i’m unfortunately a workaholic (Trying to work on it though).
I think i’ve said it before but even something simple as Val showing her excitement over the art pieces I was prepping could genuinely brighten my day even while I was at my lowest.
And then when I really started pursuing this as a project, rather than just a secret stash to satiate myself and one other person minimum, I realized I could do something good here. For the people like me who loved this ship but might have been too nervous about expressing it, the people who were just really craving it, and the people who had already made all of the fics and art that sent me into this spiral of obsessive passion in the first place! A gift to all of them, to make ya’ll happy. 
In hindsight, may not like, the healthiest mindset for setting off this whole project. But hey it all kinda circled around into eventually helping my mental health recover. So like, win?
And i’ve already spoken on how Day 60 allowed me to feel a lot more emotionally free as an artist even if I still have my struggle days. I’ve gotten better just in general as an artist as I improve more at stuff like expressions, posing, linework, etc. And I’ve even managed to make friends with some of the people I used to look up to as idols and can finally just view em as normal people now. (Even if I might still be a bit excessive in my praise, I swear I’m normal about ya’ll besties I just don’t have like, a middleground for showing my appreciation and affection for my friends. It’s maxed out unless I’m tired as shit) 
I find myself comedically terrified of how this ship has affected me over the course of 2024, and how it will likely continue to affect me through 2025 even as I try to move onto other projects not related to Junkan. I wanna show off my love for Fairy Tail on my main blog, and I really think that with a full years time and the first five chapters done I really can get my comic off the ground and focus on that for the foreseeable future.
But hey, 2025 at least we got two whole Junkan Events. And with Junkan Week I’d like to keep that going for as long as I can, unless someone else takes the reins way down the line. So this ol’ blog’ll keep going for a good while I imagine, even if it’s a lot smaller. Maybe I’ll find other ways to keep this place active, I’ve considered just making it a one stop shop for all things Junkan though I don’t think I’m really suited to manage that. Maybe someone’ll read this and try there hand at it down the line, maybe someone’ll do their own 100 Days of Junkan! 
Oh hey did I ever tell ya’ll I was gonna make a comedic video just making a guideline for how one could make their own 100 Days Project. It was gonna be like, pretty obvious points just framed in a very exaggerated and comedic tone. 
Alright anything else I should cover? Fun facts? Deep personal anecdotes? Sappy stuff?
Lemme check my files, maybe i got another dumb joke image- 
. . . 
Oh . . . Well there’s somethin.
Alright, don’t get to excited ya’ll, but just for a bit of fun, how about one last day in the project. I know 101 days doesn’t roll of the tongue as well, but I think this is vaguely interesting enough to make up for that! Tune in tomorrow. Same time, same place. 
As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~
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doumidas-whumps · 3 days ago
Text
paper cut
masterlist (but this can be read alone)
cw: pet whump, starvation/restricted eating as punishment, a paper cut and a wee bit of blood
———
Sonny was curled up where he felt safest, in the corner of his shared room, partially hidden by the plain wooden dresser pushed up against the wall. Pressed against his spine was the pillow he propped up where the two walls met. It was worn and soft, much more comfortable than the peeling drywall. 
At the sudden pang in his stomach he curled tighter over himself, pressing his nose into the book on his knees. He breathed in the crisp smell of fresh paper and ink, waiting for the pain to pass. 
He knew the aching would stop altogether soon enough. Sonny tried anything he could to keep his mind off the hunger until then, including reading. 
He was working his way through one of the new books Mr. Oz had brought home, which had been abandoned on the table and forgotten about. The price sticker was still on the book when Sonny snagged it— $14.99. He had peeled it off with his thumbnail, leaving a small square of sticky residue that by now had picked up too much dust and lint to stick to anything else.
His master was always buying books but never seemed to read any of them, preferring to watch his TV shows. Sonny wondered what the point of it was, but it gave him enough reading material to stay entertained, so he didn’t complain. He didn’t think Mr. Oz even noticed whenever the books went missing, inconspicuously tucked into a pillowcase or under the neatly folded clothes in his drawer. He was careful not to bend the pages and placed each book on the bookshelf he was done with it, slid into its proper spot according to genre and author. (The shelf had been organized by size and color before Sonny got to it, which he couldn’t help but find both peculiar and amusing.) 
Sonny’s stomach settled, and he lifted his head from the pages. It was better to get his reading in now before the fog of hunger really set in, which usually happened after a day or two— it made it harder to focus on the words or use his brain for much of anything.
He had just turned the page when the door creaked open. He didn’t look up, figuring it was just Port coming to check on him and tell him to stop sitting around. 
“What are you doing?”
Sonny’s stomach dropped at the same time his eyes snapped up. That wasn’t Port’s voice— it was his master’s, and he was standing in the doorway, laser-focused on Sonny. It took only a few moments for Mr. Oz to stride further into the room, closer to where he was cowering in the corner.
It felt wrong to see his master standing in the middle of the bedroom, with the backdrop of faded blue walls and singular painting on the wall. It felt dangerous. Mr. Oz had never come in here before, so why was he here now?
He didn’t wait for Sonny to answer, not that it wasn’t obvious. “I don’t remember giving you permission to read.”
The book burned in Sonny's grasp, feeling like contraband. Caught red-handed with a book that didn’t belong to him, reading during time that should be spent doing something useful.
He swallowed, willing his voice to come to him. “M’sorry, sir.”
“I didn’t even know you could read,” Mr. Oz muttered. He didn’t acknowledge Sonny’s apology, suddenly dropping to a kneel in front of him. Seeing his master kneeling before him struck Sonny as wrong wrong wrong, almost in the same way it felt wrong to even see him in here.
He had the urge to adjust his position and kneel like any well-trained pet should, embarrassed by the unnecessary luxury of the pillow behind his spine. At the same time, he didn’t want to move any more than he had to, as if Mr. Oz was some sort of predator animal and the slightest movement would set him off. 
Mr. Oz snatched the book from Sonny’s hands, and Sonny winced at the bright sting of a paper cut on the sensitive pad of his thumb. 
“Seriously," Mr. Oz said. "Can you even go one day without pissing me off?” He shut the book with a clap (losing Sonny’s place) and turned it over, looking at the cover. He huffed. “This is the book I bought yesterday.”
Sonny was silent. His master looked to him, head still angled down. The dark eyes staring at Sonny from under his brows made him look incredibly sinister. He raised the book a little higher, motioned with it. “Why did you steal this?”
“I— I didn’t steal it, sir, I was borrowing it.” 
His eyes narrowed, and Sonny cringed in anticipation of being struck. “Well, don’t you ever ‘borrow’ something from me again,” he said. “Not without my permission.” His hand made no move to hit him.
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry. I won’t.” Sonny’s heart was pounding, hard enough that he could even feel the pulse of it in his thumb where it was sliced. 
Mr. Oz’s eyes dropped back to the book. Sonny knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet, but not having that stare on him made him feel minutely better. 
Feeling his heartbeat in his finger was becoming slightly nauseating. He raised his hand to his mouth and sucked the tip of his thumb, the coppery taste of blood spreading on his tongue. He wasn’t sure where the instinct came from, but it lessened the sting. 
He immediately regretted it, however, as it alerted Mr. Oz, who snatched Sonny's wrist and yanked his hand away from his mouth. 
“Don’t do that,” he snapped.
“Sorry!" Sonny gasped. "Sorry, sir.”
Sonny could feel how wide his eyes were as Mr. Oz’s grip traveled to the meat of Sonny’s hand, then further, wrapping around his thumb. It was weird, Sonny’s comparatively small thumb squeezed between a few of Mr. Oz’s thick fingers. Sonny’s four other fingers trembled and curled.
The small white cut marring the swirl of his fingerprint turned red before their eyes. Mr. Oz squeezed tighter and watched with a strange intensity as a tiny, bright red bead of blood formed. Sonny’s stomach flipped.
With one hand, Mr. Oz opened the book to the last page. He maneuvered Sonny’s bloody thumb and pressed it to the eggshell paper, right underneath the ink of the final paragraph. His thumb lifted, leaving behind a small red dot, even smaller than a pinky nail. 
Sonny’s eyes darted between the page and Mr. Oz’s face, which was turned towards the mark he made in the book. He found himself too dazed to form a single coherent thought.
Mr. Oz closed the book and released Sonny’s thumb. Sonny pulled it to his chest, cradling it with his other hand. 
“No more books,” Mr. Oz said.
He rose to his full height and left the room, regarding Sonny no further. 
———
taglist: @pumpkin-spice-whump @string-of-broken-hearts @technicallydeliciousdeer @ziptiesnfries
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causeimcrayzeebee · 1 day ago
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have you seen the kamimura lore drop and what are your thoughts?
ohbmy god this could’ve been so embarrassing cause i hadn’t seen it yet and was so confused as to what you meant so I was planning on just yapping about kamimura in general but then I saw it LMAO UM I WAS SO HAPPY CAUSE KAMIMURA CONTENT!!!!! KAMIMURA LORE!!! AND THEN SO FUCKING INCREDIBLY SAD FROM IT LIKE....THAT'S GORE... THAT'S GORE OF MY COMFORT CHARACTER.... um yeah I have work for law to do but I got too into reading the lore drop so lets talk about it! (I will get to my work after trust) spoiler warning for chapters 1-3 and tetro typical trigger warnings!!! take care of yourself!!
I am not going to cover the ableism portion or too much of the diagnosis/hospital parts because I am not personally disabled and would like to let other disabled people talk about it, so i'll leave the rest of the conversation to others in the community!
also i took notes while reading it to organize my thoughts like usual (im so bad at putting words together well). some of these are kinda funny so here are some highlights lmfao
Tumblr media Tumblr media
alright, now lets actually be serious.
firstly, I'm so glad that kamimura at least had a good childhood. I think it really shows in the way he interacts with the tetro pink cast that he was a sociable and happy kid! my mom actually teaches preschool so shes taught me a lot about early childhood psychology (shout out to my mother guys!!!!!). one of the biggest takeaways I've had from her is that the first five years of one's life are the most important in development! that's what Montessori programs keep in mind and throughout preschool and early kinder, they take time to establish learning through play; a lot of people have the misconception that letting kids play at school is just letting them mess around, but it's crucial in building their skills! kids learn to socialize with others and to problem solve; that foundation is very important for everything else moving forward in life! I could rant about how preschools need to utilize this more, esp in the American education system, but I digress. my main point goes to something I (and a couple other people I'm not original in this LMAO) have mentioned before about how it makes more sense out of hasegawa and kamimura, that they'd kill off kamimura because he had other people. kamimura, despite having further and further cut himself off from the world right till the end (until the kg at least), still managed to make meaningful connections, like tamba and hayashi, even if they weren't like ideal. the way he approaches tamba is very caring in a way that can seem like it's not, yk? likely it stems from his trust issues, it's scary to put your genuine real feelings out there, so hiding them with some snide remarks is easier. luckily, tamba has a similar approach so hey. shout out tamba n kamimura you will always be special to me.
anyways, its both so amazing and so heartbreaking that his parents were so loving and supportive, but died too soon. I do wonder about the role of attachment in this case; like specifically in babies/toddlers, they get attached to their parents usually because that's the first person they see, the first to take care of them. kamimura was able to get that love and support from his parents, even when it got so much harder and the days in the hospitals got longer. so having it all be taken away when you're NINE? that's obviously gonna destroy you, and that leads to his trust issues and isolation. he was able to thrive still as a young child because he had his parents to support him! so when that's all gone, how else are you supposed to cope?
yeah fuck you family friend, that was brutal. I cant even imagine coming home from school to find your parents absolutely desecrated. the day of his parents death beginning the routine of staying locked in his room.... oh my god like what if I cried (I did). that probably changed the way he thought about his room; his room was an escape from the horrors of the outside world. if he just stayed in the room, he wouldn't have to experience the fucked up world. it became a habit. EUGAHHD I'm in shambles.
after the murder of his parents, it's understandable that it shook kamimura and his aunt to their core. that was a violent murder (by a man who was literally just rejected romantically.... its so fucking upsetting that that is a common crime). his aunt wasn't even ready to have kids so having the responsibility of taking in kamimura must've been a lot. In regards to homesick, despite the very clear distance in their relationship, kamimura really seems to appreciate her being there, even if it was very distanced; she was still an important part of his grieving process and his whole life honestly.
oh boy here we go. isao when I catch you istg..... sorry that's an exaggeration, likely this was from a societal disgust, yk just homophobia from the world, so I cant really blame this kid too much.... but we still have beef. god, this was one of those actually crushing crushes, hm. it's so fucked up; someone who was starting to get kamimura a bit out of the dark space that was his life, giving him something to enjoy and be happy about! and all of that was just thrown away because kamimura was vulnerable and shared his feelings. not having your feelings returned can already be devastating, but this? the spread of rumors, the bullying, the losing his one friend? it's like the world wants to torture him omfg. here the trust issues become worse; those who loved him leave, those who he loved leave. everyone just leaves, so what's the point?
this explains his relationship with hasegawa, and the issue after trial 1. it had to have felt way too familiar; telling someone he was fond of vulnerable information, only for it to be told to a bunch of people he never wanted in his fucking business. however, I think the reason why they made up rather quickly in clean up crew (which btw I watched w my friend earlier today bc I got them into tetro........ god I love that episode) is hasegawa's response. hasegawa, unlike isao, is remorseful, he CARES. hasegawa even shares something personal to him, about his own loss.
I think this also changes the scene of hasegawa coming out a bit. before, he was rejected by isao because he was a homophobic douchebag. but in the student spotlight, hasegawa casually says he's not into girls. while its funny thinking that kamimura was having some gay panic then lmao, I think actually it was probably processing that in a confused comfort, not exactly because his feelings could be reciprocated, but for this; hasegawa was so comfortable with coming out as gay, so comfortable with the concept, unlike isao. if kamimura confessed his feelings to hasegawa, and were (somehow) not reciprocated, he likely still wouldn't have ran away. of course, with kamimura's trust issues, he probably wasn't confident in that assumption, but hasegawa is not the kind of person to drop someone because they confessed to them. he would've kept the person that had become so important to him. and because of that maybe, just maybe, kamimura would've said what he really wanted to say if the interview had happened before woodshop.
once he's on his own and moves out, he no longer has someone reminding him to do things, so with no motivation to simply live, he ends up staying locked in his house like we've seen before. what's the point in anything? when that kind of spiral hits you, and you don't have other people present in your life to keep doing, how would you ever stay motivated?? I know it was a really informal post, so I might be going insane trying to add this to the analysis, but the repetition of 'but life goes on' I think really solidifies the importance of a support system. when things are difficult, the world never just stops, it keeps going despite your struggle. but having people who care about you around you can help make each day easier, they can help 'slow down time' if you will. kamimura has gone through an amount of stress no one should have to face, but people around him could have made it easier on him by being there. that's the tragedy of tetro.
it's especially tragic that at the very end, right before the kg, he was taking his own life.
(plot wise, I need to know what y'all theorists think of this bc I have ideas but i need to finish the staffside logs before I can even actually consider my thoughts lmfao.)
sorry to be captain obvious on a majority of this post lol but gosh wow. I really loved that we got this, it was so much information I am kinda stoked despite basically all of it being depressing as hell. tetro has really become an inspiration for me and writing, I am constantly so impressed by von's writing and it's given me perspective on how to approach writing as a whole. i feel as though this gave me so much perspective on kamimura himself as a character. some of this just confirmed my ideas already, but it strikes me as something so human just learning all of this. when I, or anyone really, first meet people, I only know surface level things, yk cause I don't know them. but then I start talking to them, and I learn about different things that have happened to them, how they feel about certain issues or what they're doing on a day to day basis. you can never know everything of course, but when you discover new parts of someone, it makes them more complex and they don't fit the idea you had of them before because people are complex!! and that's the beauty of writing, capturing humanity! the impact of each character, esp kamimura, has been so beautifully done, I'm just constantly moved as the story progresses.
thank y'all sm for reading my excuse to talk about kamimura, this was A LOT of blabbing I'm so so sorry but I hope you enjoyed haha! :)
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lsunstreakerl · 23 hours ago
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the latest chapter of SH! 💛 charles going feral over the not-even-real-possibility of lewis adding max to his collection of blond WDC champions and also just thinking about charles pretty much pissing all over HIS red bull golden boy, that really hits the spot! thank you!
but also in another ask you said that max may consider the whole eye injury water under the bridge but charles not, and that made me think of the grudge you can hold onto someone over them hurting the people you love and how hard it’s to let go. In this case clearly lewis isn’t at fault but i’m wondering of how hard it has been for charles to deal with those negative thoughts in a high pressure environment. i know you mostly feel comfortable writing from max’s pov but any chance we can get a bit into charles’ mind?
Hi anon! I meant to respond to this much earlier but it got stuck in my brain and actually manifested as a little snippet, so here's a tiny peek behind the curtain! hopefully it's a little bit more insight? feel free to ask more questions if you have them :)
Charles is trying not to grit his teeth, though if the glare Silvia is sending his way is any indication, he's failing.
They're getting ready for the fan stage, and Charles keeps checking his phone, making sure he isn't missing any messages from Max.
They're in Monaco for the race, and normally it is one of Charles' favorite races, and Max was supposed to be here in the garage today, but he'd had a flare-up this morning, dry heaving and dizzy. Charles hadn't wanted to leave him, but Max had gotten decently close to biting his head off, shoving him to the doorway.
"If you want to be worried I cannot stop you, but at least be driving while you are doing it."
Now, though-
Charles isn't sure how he's meant to do this fanstage. He's been civil with Lewis, hasn't let his roiling resentment sneak into their interactions, professional or personal, but it's only a matter of time.
It's harder on days like today, where Charles has left his boyfriend sick at home, suffering from something that many very well never leave him, when Max could be- should be here, racing with them, racing with Charles.
Everyone has idolized Lewis at some point in their lives, and Charles is no different, had admittedly been excited to find out he was joining the team, but the end of last season, and this one-
It's left a sour taste on his tongue. He doesn't hold Lewis on a pedestal anymore, how can he, when he has slipped into Charles' home, driving the color that belongs to Charles, belongs to Ferrari, refuses to address his legacy with Max the same way he refuses to talk about any other rivals.
Charles can't stand it. He couldn't care less about Nico and Seb- well, maybe a little bit about Seb- but to do the same to Max. Charles' Max, the Max that fought his way onto the grid, fought his way through the hate, fought himself into a competitive car, and a team that loved him, the Max that deserves to be on the grid today-
To see Lewis instead, who has been driving since before Max and Charles were on the grid, and still is, it makes his fingers curl.
Maybe he's just having a bad day. He knows he needs to pull the nice boy face back on, but he's having trouble finding it, when the car is competitive this year, when he and Lewis are both bringing home points.
It doesn't matter, at the end of the day, what Lewis is capable of, because he is driving for Ferrari, but he is not Ferrari, doesn't have rosso corsa beating fast through his veins, doesn't have the prancing horse as a thundering heartbeat.
He's a Mercedes boy, a wolf at heart, and that will ruin him, here. Ferrari does not take wolves. Ferrari takes sacrifices, bleating lambs, brought to the alter young and innocent, and only the most devoted get to live, get to have the honor of bringing the team to glory, the privilege of representing the legacy. Only the most treasured become the shining eye of the tifosi, and to get it all at once, to be a model driver, a living breathing manifestation of the Scuderia- it only comes around once every few generations of drivers.
Seb couldn't do it, and neither could Fernando. Lewis will not be capable either.
Charles has it.
It may not have been intentional, but Max has left Charles a mantle, a legacy, one final way to etch their names together forever, intertwined in a way no media or sports magazine could ever brush past, like so much of their lives and careers, tangled together to the very end.
Charles Leclerc will not let Lewis Hamilton get his eighth title.
A hand claps down on his shoulder, gives him a friendly squeeze.
"Hey man, you ready?"
Charles checks his posture, unclenches his jaw, and smiles at Lewis, but there's nothing friendly about it. It's the most Charles will let himself have, tiny little slips in the mask, unsettling for Lewis and unnoticeable for anyone else around them.
"Of course."
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