#and i didn't like them or enjoy spending time with them

[missdynamighttt]

fantasizing about bf! katsuki paying for his pretty little girlfriend's nails because he wants to spoil you rotten.

at first, you were reluctant to book an appointment because you didn't have the time or the money. however, your pro hero boyfriend was wealthy, insistent, and super fucking stubborn.

“woman, if it’s something you want, i’ll pay for it," katsuki says softly, enjoying the feeling of resting his chin on the top of your head.

you were currently cuddling on your shared bed in the apartment, one of those slow days where you both had nothing to do but relax in each others arms. "i can drive you there if its a problem. no big deal.”

"katsuki, i can't ask you to do that," you say, looking up at him. "its too much. i'll just buy press ons or something—"

katsuki’s face scrunches up in the disgust at the idea of you using those press ons. back when you just moved in a few months into the relationship, those damn press ons were always everywhere around the apartment.

and sometimes, it'd get awkward when you're digging your nails into his flesh, moaning softly around him as he thrusts into you but then you make him stop half-way because your nail fell from the bed.

it got to the point where he found one of them under the drawer where you kept your... toys, and he knew they had to go. it took you some convincing, so he wasn't about let his hard work die in vain now.

"fuck no. i ain’t letting you walk around wearin' that cheap ass shit again," he scowled at you. "and the hell you can’t ask me. you're not askin', i'm offerin.”

"i dunno, katsuki..." you bit your bottom lip, reluctant to accept. it was nice that your boyfriend wanted to treat you but you couldn't help but feel guilty. "i don't wanna bother you. i don't need it that much 'nyway. and you could just spend your money on.. well, other things."

"the only thing botherin' me is you being difficult," he pouts at you, leaning down to give your lips a soft peck. "so, sweets, shut up. just let me take care of you, alright?"

and you were grateful you let him take care of you as you admired your freshly done nails a few days later, the glossy finish catching the light perfectly. you couldn’t stop smiling, especially when you remembered telling your nail tech about katsuki and she told you: "girl, hes so doing this because hes gonna propose. please say yes, for the love of god!"

of course, you wanted to express your gratitude for him. and what better way to thank him by wrapping your hands around his cock, fingers lingering on his length, showing off your new nails to him?

"fuck," katsuki hisses, breath shallow as he looks down at you. "god, baby, you look so pretty like this..."

you were on your knees, only wearing his shirt and your panties as a hand jerks off his length. the other holds his hand, fingers intertwined as you mouthed at his cock. you licked on the throbbing, pink tip, sucking the precum out of him with a blissed out expression.

you almost looked like you were in a trance. and seeing you there, looking all pretty and disheveled like a succubus, never failed to make his cock hard.

"yeah?" you look up at him with smiling eyes, pulling away from his cock with a soft, wet pop, rubbing a thumb on his aching tip before flicking your tongue at it again.

katsuki can’t hold back the soft moan that leaves his lips, his head lolling back as he tries to keep his breathing under control. he groans, his hips bucking against your touch.“fuckin' hell, woman, yeah.. so pretty.. just like that..."

katsuki's hand tightens around yours, looking at your newly manicured nails. he lifts your hand up, admiring them. the glossy finish really does look so pretty on you.

“fuck. they look so beautiful,�� he murmurs, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. "look so beautiful wrapped around my cock..."

"thank you, baby.." you flush a little, your tongue swirling around his tip. "..really appreciate it, i do. hope this serves as a nice thank you.."

katsuki’s face is tinged with a faint blush, his expression softening at your words.

“no need to thank me, sweets. your happiness is all the thanks i need. but this— shit,” he lets out a low moan when you suck on his tip again. "this is always.. a nice surprise..”

"surprise?" you smile. "you didn't think i'd do this to you..." you lap up his tip in between words. "after being so nice to me?"

katsuki lets out a quiet laugh, “you wanted to make me feel good, sweets? yeah? that why you’re on your knees for me?”

he gives you a playful grin, watching as your hand continues to move over his cock. his free hand tucks a strand on hair in between your ears, cupping your cheek. “always my good girl..”

you flush with embarrassment, thighs clenching from his words. "shut up.. bet if i bought you something you like, you'd go down on me too..."

katsuki can’t help but bark out a laugh at your comment, the image of you buying him a gift and him then going down on you was an appealing thought. but. he grabs your chin and tilts it up, forcing you to look at him and slowing down the pace.

“oh, baby. i’d make you feel so good. i'd eat you out like you were my last meal."

he gestures for you to open your mouth, his thumb tugging down your chin. and when you do, he suddenly spits on your tongue. you felt strangely vulnerable, swallowing it as his thumb rubs your swollen lips.

"but no way you’re buying me shit. that’s my job. to spoil you," his eyes darken at the sight of you sucking on his thumb, roaming over the concave of your mouth.

embarassment rose to your cheeks as you looked up at him, feeling flustered. "but... i wanna spoil you too."

he lets out a low hiss, feeling the vibrations of your hum around his thumb. he pulls his thumb out, his hand coming down to grab your chin, leaning down to face you.

"don't even think about it, sweets. i'm not asking," he tilts his head at you with a pout. "if you so much as buy me a pack of gum, i’m going to take you on a trip to bali."

your eyes widened in surprise, not sure how to, and voice your concern. a trip to bali would be great, but you just wanted to give him something too. "isn't that... uhm, isn't that a bit much?"

"don't give a shit. just let me have this one, alright?" he sighs, looking down at you.

"i want to take care of you," katsuki stroked your cheek with his thumb, a small smile creeping onto his face. "i like seeing that smile on your face when i do. makes me happy."

you felt your heart almost burst, looking at him with what feels like so much affection. he was just showing you so much love, how could you not melt?

katsuki knew he was getting soft, clicking his tongue at you. he scoffs, rolls his eyes and squeezes your cheek. "your nails looks cute anyway. got that?"

you bit your lip. whats the worse he could do when you bought him something anyway? after a moment of contemplation, you nodded, katsuki's grin spreading across his lips.

"good. now, get up here and gimme a kiss."

you nodded again, your heart racing as you stood up and perched yourself on his lap, breath hitching when you feel his cock press against your damp panties before pulling him in for a gentle, but passionate kiss.

katsuki groans into the kiss as you straddle his lap, his hands immediately finding your hips and pressing you down against his bulge. you can feel how hard he is beneath you, whimpering as he deepens the kiss.

“such a pretty thing,” katsuki murmurs, feeling how wet you are against him, looking down at the heat of your arousals. “gettin' me this hard and still having this on…”

katsuki's finger tugs on your panties as he kisses you in between words. he fists his cock, and hits the fat tip against your panties, hissing softly from underneath you. "you're so fuckin' wet, sweets, and i've barely even touched you..."

"katsuki..." you whimper, whining as you feel the head of his cock against you, almost kissing your clit through your panties. "please... can't handle it anymore... please, j-just—"

katsuki lets out a soft growl, leaning into your shoulder to bite on the curve of the skin. you squeal when you feel his lips and teeth graze your shoulder, sinking into your flesh, just wanting more of him, whining his name.

"please what, baby?" he murmurs, kissing the skin he's bruised on you. "be a good girl and use your words."

"wanna.. say thank you," you gasp, slowly grinding yourself on him. "please... please, fuck me.. katsuki.."

katsuki grins against your skin. there she was. his needy little thing he loved so much, practically begging to be ruined.

you’re suddenly on your back, the couch cushion soft against your back.

“atta girl.. now we’re getting somewhere,” his hands are already on your shirt, roughly yanking it up. “you gonna be a good girl and do what i tell you?”

you nodded eagerly, breathless as you let him strip you. not like you wanted anything else anyway. you tug down hard on your panties, tossing them to the floor and leaving you naked, your soft skin hitting the cold air.

katsuki watches as you kick off your panties, clearly looking all too pleased. he shifts, his torso hovering above you and caging you in between the couch. one hand moves up to your chin, pinning you to the couch and forcing you to look at him.

“you’re gonna cum screaming my name, got it?”

you hold onto his back, nodding as you whine from underneath him, ready to take what he could give you.

and when your newly-manicured nails digged into his skin as he thrusts into you, hot red nail marks decorating his back, katsuki felt nothing but pure bliss.

[rowie264]

Jinx x jinxer!reader. First kiss

Warnings: mention of stalking, mention of possessive behaviour, fluff

After your first encounter with Jinx, you began to see her more often. Somehow, she always knew where to find you and where you lived, appearing out of nowhere. You wondered if she was stalking you, but you tried not to dwell on that thought for the sake of your peace of mind.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't like spending time with her. Jinx turned out to be completely different from what you used to think. Of course, it's true that she was dangerous and crazy, but you also found out how funny and passionate she was. It was really interesting to hear her explain how her bombs and other devices work, even though you barely understood the details.

She was an artist too, just like you. Her style was different, but no less fascinating. Sometimes you even painted something together on the walls of Zaun.

You couldn't deny your growing affection for her. Even considered her... a friend.

A few weeks later, you also began to notice that her behavior toward you was changing.

She was touchy from the very beginning – had no idea about personal space at all – but over time she became bolder and clingier. It was startling you at first but at some point you’ve got used to it, enjoying random touches and tight hugs as much as Jinx did.

But seems like for her it wasn’t enough.

She was becoming demanding and possessive. Often asked you to spend more time with her instead of Jinxers. Sometimes you caught her saying something she shouldn't have known (this is when you stopped ignoring whole stalking thing you had guesses about). Sometimes she would sneak into your bed to sleep beside you. Sometimes you have noticed that your belongings disappear for several days, but appear in the same place as if nothing had happened.

You knew you should be afraid and disgusted… but you didn’t. That's when you realized that you fell in love with her.

One day you came to Jinx's lair and saw that she was doing something at the workplace. You walked over and put your arms around her waist from behind. “A new project?” You ask, looking at the blueprints.

Jinx stiffens for a second before relaxing and leaning back against you. “Yep! A bomb that turns into smaller bombs jumping around before exploding!” She chirps with infectious enthusiasm.

“And the purpose? Besides fun I mean.” One of your hands starts slowly caressing her stomach, continuing to speak in as casual tone as possible. Today you wanted to push the boundaries even further. Do something that friends don't do and make sure that you were right in your assumptions.

“Ya know… bigger radius. Harder to dodge all of them too.” She tries to look unperturbed, but her breathing gets a little heavier, and you feel hard muscles tense under your fingers.

“Try to be careful with them, will you? Don’t throw it close to yourself.” You murmur brushing thumb against blue cloud on her side. Lately, you've been fantasizing about getting tattoos like the ones Jinx used to doodle on your arm. Those pink clouds were temporary, but you crave something more permanent - the real deal.

"I'm not that crazy. Besides, I haven't even built it yet." She snorts, but suddenly clenches her jaw when you nuzzle her temple, making her almost tremble with pleasure. She can't help but lean a little closer to you. Your tenderness makes her dizzy.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to do it. You are a genius.” You whisper into her ear and leave small kiss on the shell before pulling back.

The sight before your eyes makes your heart stop beating for a second. Jinx, the Loose Cannon, most wanted criminal in Piltover and simply craziest person you’ve ever met… had the most adorable blush in whole world. Her eyes were wide, lips slightly parted and it looked like she had squeezed the pen so hard that it broke.

“Are you alright?” You ask in soft voice taking her hand to inspect it for any signs of harm. Your concern dissipates upon finding her skin unscathed. Before she can say anything, you lift her hand to your lips and plant a kiss on her palm, looking directly into her eyes as you do.

Her mouth opens and closes, blush on her cheeks deepens. You caught her completely off guard.

“Aren’t you adorable?” you murmur out loud, slowly spinning her chair and leaning closer to her till your lips are mere inches apart. You can feel the warmth of her breath on your face. Her eyes flicker to your lips and back up. She is so cute, it’s maddening.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask her and wait patiently for permission. She looks at you, as if not sure this is real. After few moments she swallows lump in her throat and nods her head slowly, biting bottom lip. “P-please…”

Only then you close remained distance and finally kiss her, moving your lips against hers in slow and tender manner. Jinx tried her best to kiss back, but her inexperience shows. She’s a little clumsy, her movements uncertain, too shaky from nervousness and overwhelmed emotions.

As the kiss goes on Jinx relaxes more and more and wraps her arms around your neck, pressing her body closer against yours, as she gives in to new sensations.

The kiss slowly grows more urgent, and her hand clutches at your shirt. She’s starting to get a little lightheaded, letting out a small moan when you lean forward, pushing her slightly against the workbench.

You take this opportunity to slip your tongue into her mouth, causing her to whimper. She tries to mimic your movements swirling her own tongue around yours in passionate dance, making you want to deepen the kiss… but you stop yourself and pull back.

While you were both catching your breath, you could see her mouth slightly open as she stared at you with wide eyes, her cheeks flushed, and her breathing quickened. She looked absolutely adorable like this.

“Enough for the first time.” You murmur with fond but playful smile. She immediately pouts, which makes you chuckle and scoop her into your warm embrace.

[burningembers91]

Outside Looking In - Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Nam-Gyu has always been an outsider, watching as everyone passes him by. He spends his days trying to make a name for himself, and trying to show the beautiful hostess with a broken heart that he'd love her until the end of time, if only she would let him.

A/N: Based off of this ask. I wanted to say a HUGE thank you the anon who asked that I write for Nam-Gyu. I didn't really like his character in Squid Game, but I am SO happy with how this turned out. I wasn't planning on writing this so quickly, but the ask gave me such a good idea, I couldn't resist. Thank you, Anon. I hope you enjoy!

Park Nam-Gyu had spent his entire life desperately waiting to be noticed. Waiting to be noticed by his parents, his siblings, his class mates, employers, and women. But no matter how hard he tried he always just seemed to be on the edge of everyone’s periphery. He tried to be bolder, louder, a little more cocky; he’d met so many people like that who commanded attention, so he couldn’t understand why it didn’t work for him.

He'd taken a job as a Club Promoter to meet girls, but also on the hope that people would want to hang out with him, even if was just for discounted or free bar entry. He would spend all week advertising clubs and bars on Instagram, promising his old classmates he would be able to get them tickets for the hottest places in town, even the ones that were exclusively guest list only. It had worked for a while, and Nam-Gyu found himself basking in the popularity he’d always craved. But people were fickle, and once they got what they wanted, they soon left. There were hundreds of club promoters in the city, and most of them had better connections that he did. He never gave up though, spending each weekend following the crowds of drinkers that flooded through Seoul. He never quite managed to attract enough attention though, left to stand on the pavement clutching his leaflets as everyone passed him by.

Nam-Gyu knew he should throw the towel in. He didn’t make any money as a club promoter, still living in the tiny box room at his mum and dad’s house. He should really focus on a proper job, something in insurance or accounting; but then he really would be a nobody. Just another faceless ghost in a suit, robotically moving through life. He knew he was destined for greater things, if only he could just be noticed.

You were the other reason he didn’t want to quit the job that made him no money. You, the beautiful hostess, whose job it was to entertain the richer clientele who frequented the bars he promoted. Night after night you would bend to every will and demand of drunk men, smiling politely as they groped you, called you hideous names and tried to force themselves on you. You were tired of this life, tired of being nothing more than a pretty girl in a tight dress and pair of heels whose name no one bothered to learn. Except for Nam-Gyu; he knew your name; he saw the sadness harboured in your eyes. He watched as you stood in all kinds of weather, smiling and greeting people through gritted teeth. You were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and he was so madly, so deeply in love with you. He could try and bullshit the drinkers with his false bravado, but he could never fool you. “What are you doing after work?” he asked you one night as you stood shivering on the pavement, savouring the last fewminutes of your break. “I’m going home,” you sighed, “I finish at 3am.” “Maybe I could walk you home,” he offered, taking in the goosebumps that littered your delicate skin. You shouldn’t be standing out here freezing. You should be inside, curled by a fire with someone who doted on you, cared for you. Nam-Gyu wished he could be that person. “I’m getting a taxi,” you told him. “Thanks though.”

You’d noticed Nam-Gyu plenty of times. He’d been working as a club promoter for as long as you’d been working as a hostess. He’d always seemed sweet, but he tried so hard to impress people who didn’t deserve his attention. He always looked out for you, keeping you company on quieter nights, buying you dinner if your tips didn’t cover your meal. You doubted he made much money either, but he always made sure you didn’t go hungry. He made you laugh, and when it was just the two of you, he was so different to the brash, cocky persona he adopted when he was working. You wondered why he felt the need to act like someone he wasn’t.  You wished you had his never-ending enthusiasm, his ability to keep a smile plastered to his face no matter what. People spoke to him like shit, and yet he never let it phase him. You on the other hand, you were finding it harder and harder to deal with the men who grabbed at you and treated you like a life-size Barbie doll, simply there for their amusement. Your dream was to become a florist, to open your own shop. But dreams required money, and you spent all yours just trying to get by each month. You knew how much Nam-Gyu cared for you, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him he was wasting his time. You were damaged goods, too broken to ever love again.

Nam-Gyu wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting outside for when he saw you. It was raining, a constant drizzle that soaked through his shirt and jeans, plastering his hair to his cheeks. He’d tried to gain entry to the very bar he’d been promoting, but the bouncer wouldn’t admit him. “We’re full,” he was told, despite the constant stream of patrons entering. He didn’t want to go home though, didn’t want to face his parents to whom he was a constant source of disappointment. So, he sat in the rain, waiting for you to show up on your break. This time however, you weren’t alone. There was a man with you, his hands round your waist. You were pushing him away, but he’d just grab you again, clearly unfazed or unaware that you weren’t interested in his advances. “Please stop,” you snapped, pulling your arm away as he tried to plant a sloppy kiss on your lips. “Seriously, fuck off!” “Hey!” Nam-Gyu stood up, marching over to where you stood, his fists balled. “Leave her alone! She said she’s not interested.” He couldn’t make out the man’s response; the guy was too drunk to form words coherently, but apparently not to drunk to harass you. “It’s fine, honestly,” you told him, “I’m used to it. My manager has called him a cab, he’ll be gone soon.” But your eyes were so sad, your mouth trembling as you held back tears. Nam-Gyu wished he could take the sadness away from you, wished he could see a smile light up your face.

He waited for you until the bar closed, just in case anyone else tried to take advantage of you. “Why are you still here?” you sighed, pitying the rain-soaked man who never gave up on you. “I wanted to make sure you got home ok,” he told you, trying to hide the shivers that wracked his body. “I’m fine, honestly.” You started walking, your tips not enough to pay for a taxi, and Nam-Gyu followed. You wished you could open up and let him in; you wished you weren’t so broken. But a lifetime of toxic relationships had left you damaged. You were so used to being hurt that you didn’t think anyone could fix you, not even the sweet club promoter who stood waiting for you in the rain. You walked home in silence, enjoying his company but too scared to admit it to him. You stopped as you got the front of your apartment, turning to say goodnight to the man you desperately wished you could love back.

“I wouldn’t treat you like those men do,” Nam-Gyu whispered, “I’d make sure you never had to work in a place like that ever again. I’d hold you every night and tell you how lucky I was to have you.” “If you hold me without hurting me, you'll be the first who ever did.” You smiled sadly, your hand gently clasping his cheek. He leaned into your touch, relishing the sensation against his freezing cold skin. You left him standing out there, watching you as you made your way up the stairs to your place.

He forced himself to turn and walk home, the rain never once ceasing. Nam-Gyu would probably always be a nobody, but to you, he was desperate to be a someone.

[markrosewater]

hi Mark! i noticed in "#1202: Psychology" you didn't make any mention of the two aesthetic profiles Vorthos and Mel, and i was wondering whether any of the decisions being made specifically take them into consideration. like i ask this because one of the biggest changes to Magic this year (UB coming to standard) is something Vorthos care the most about but it seems like nothing has been done to directly address them as an audience

The aesthetic profiles aren't rooted in psychology like the psychographics, so that's why I didn't touch upon them in the psychology podcast. I'll probably do another aesthetics podcast one day (I did one as part of my "20 Lessons" series) and I'll talk about them there.

The concept of Vorthos, at its core, is about appreciating the creative elements of card design above all else. Many Vorthos adore Universes Beyond because we've done a very good job at capturing the various properties in Magic card design form.

But yes, there's a subgroup of Vorthoses that care specifically about Magic's creative world building, characters, and story. We're spending a lot of time and energy to make sure the products set in the Magic multiverse are doing a good job of representing it. 2024 had many successes (Bloomburrow, Duskmourn, and Foundations) in this area, but also some failures (Murders at Karlov Manor and Outlaws of Thunder Junction). The creative team is trying to learn from them and lean more towards the type of creative execution that make this group of Vorthoses happy.

As I've been saying a lot, Magic excels at being additive, but has issues with being subtractive. If you want cool Magic settings and characters and stories, we can and will continue to do that. If you want us to stop doing non-Magic settings, characters, and stories, I can't help you there. There's a big audience that enjoys that and so we're making it for them.

I do hear that there are players that are sad that non-Magic elements will mix in gameplay with Magic elements. There will be many limited formats, and a few constructed formats (like Cube or Premodern) where you can avoid that if it's important to you, but the number of players who will only play with in-Multiverse components is low enough that it's not something we're focusing on in the main sanctioned formats.

It's not that I'm not sympathetic. Go back ten years and I was one of you. I fought hard against non-Magic elements for many years. What finally swayed me was seeing how much I enjoyed it when a license that I truly loved got brought to Magic. There's something so exciting, so glee producing about combining two loves, that I became a convert. I want to make people as happy as I was made.

I know this isn't the answer you want to hear. I try to use this blog to be as honest with all of you as I can. Magic keeps changing and evolving because we try to do things that players will love, and there are a lot of players that truly love Universes Beyond.

That said, we're not abandoning in-Multiverse Magic. We're still making three sets a year (the standard for the majority of Magic's life), and we're truly taking to heart the lessons of 2024 (more worlds that are our carefully crafted take on the tropes and less just a place to show them off). Making the Magic multiverse the most compelling and exciting thing possible is still our goal, and there are a lot of people working really hard to continue to do that.

I think the future is bright for the Vorthoses, but I truly understand why some of you are sad with Universes Beyond coming to Standard.

[mythicmanuscripts]

Hi! I’m not sure if you’ve written something like this already, but how do you think Aegon would be like if (for some reason) the reader was giving him the cold shoulder?

Thank you :))

We all just absolutely adore clingy kinda pathetic Aegon huh? I love our little corner of the internet 😂 I decided to make the giving of the cold shoulder to Aegon more accidental than because of something he's done wrong cause we've spoken quite a bit about how badly Aegon would take being ignored as an actual punishment so I just thinking doing it this way makes more sense. I hope that's alright anon!!

So there's nothing extremely graphic in this answer but it's definitely focused on D/S dynamics and implies sexual content so I'll hide it under a tag just to be safe cause this is definitely not 100% SFW, enjoy!

I've said this before and I'll say it again: once Aegon starts to properly trust and rely on you then he becomes SO needy and emotional and very very clingy. Cause he just... you love him? And he's yours? So that means he's allowed to always look for you and try to please you and pout all day if he can't find you?

Your approval is really the only thing he needs. His advisers and his siblings and his mother can all look down upon him and be disappointed in him and he won't even notice as long as you're with him. Because with you he actually CAN please you? You show him what to do and you care for him and you set him up for success never for failure, unlike his mother and his advisors.

Anyway, point is that Aegon cares very deeply about what you think of him. Otto can call him a disgrace and he won't even flinch, but if you just slightly frown in his direction then he's immediately panicked and asking what he's done wrong. Cause you can't be upset him, not ever!!!!!

You know this of course, and you enjoy indulging him. You make sure to stay close, take his hand when walking, listen to him, cheer him up, etc.

But of course no matter how much you love spending time with him you also have your own duties to the realm. In particular you end up being the person who has to do a lot of the more subtle attempts at ensuring the loyalty of the other powerful houses. Aegon has no mind for politics or subtly and while hearing that used to upset him, it no longer does because he has a very pretty wife who can do that sort of thing for him and his only role is to wear a crown and look pretty and that he can absolutely manage.

This incident takes place during one of those evenings where a powerful house is dining with you all. There are whispers of a potential marriage between the two families to ensure allegiances and of course then also whispers about what land and titles this new union would be entitled to and what their heirs would do. This is the exact kind of thing that Aegon has no patience for, and so his preferred method of doing these things is to let you do it while he gets to watch you.

At one point during the dinner the matriarch of the other house motions for you to come outside with her before dessert is served and of course you agree. You get up from your chair and escort the matriarch outside to hear what she has to say.

What you don't notice though, is that as you get up Aegon turned to you and tried to reach for you. He didn't catch what the silent gestures of the other lady meant and when you got up he was confused. You didn't notice though and went straight out.Aegon doesn't speak to anyone while you're outside, instead just constantly looks around the room to try and figure out where you are or when you'll be back.

When you return with the lady you're smiling and allow her to announce her official proposal of the marriage between the two houses. Aegon and all relevant parties agree of course and so the rest of the dinner becomes much more lighthearted as the upcoming union is discussed.

Throughout the conversation you keep your eyes on the two who will be married, trying to make sure neither of them are reacting badly to this. Of course they both knew ahead of time that this was a possibility but knowing it's a possibility and being informed of its confirmation are two very different things.

Because you're focused on them, you don't notice Aegon trying to get your attention. And later when Aegon pours more wine into your glass you're turned slightly the other way to listen to someone and so you don't even notice it. That's what really makes him think he must have upset you because you ALWAYS thank him for little acts of service like that. He's quiet for the rest of the dinner and with each passing moment that you're speaking to another he becomes more and more convinced he's somehow been bad. Maybe he was supposed to offer to go outside with you? Maybe he should have reacted differently to the proposal? He really thought he was doing all you'd want him to and yet clearly he must have gotten that wrong cause you didnt even hold his hand!!!!

When dinner is over some of the guests seem to be heading to the sitting area for more wine to continue the evening. Aegon wishes them all well and says he's tired so he'll be going to bed and then leaves.

That's when you realise you had been unconsciously ignoring him and he must have thought he was bad. Normally Aegon would never even consider leaving without you, and he also wouldn't just announce he was leaving unless he had asked you first. Him immediately going tells you all you need to know.

You take your leave then as well, quickly running up to your shared chambers. You get there just as Aegon is about to close the door, and when you enter Aegon turns his back to you. You can tell from how his arms are folded around himself that he's probably crying or trying not to cry.

You walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing a kiss to his cheek. You rest your head on his shoulder, kissing his ear before asking him what's wrong. He simply just says he's sorry for whatever he did.

You turn him and kiss him on both cheeks, his nose and his forehead before finally kissing him on the lips and promising him that he was perfect and you were just too distracted with everyone else.

Aegon is so relieved he just immediately pulls you into bed and refuses to leave until sunrise.

[iamhereforfunnzies]

happy holidays!

I really liked your gyaru reader story!

out of curiosity, how did they feel when Bruce started to try on stop them from dressing gyaru?

on one hand Bruce is paying attention to them now and spending time with them, but on the other hand they clearly enjoy dressing in that style , I wouldn’t be surprised if reader felt a bit hurt that Bruce wanted to change them.

and from how you wrote Bruce there it feels like he doesn’t have an issue with the style itself, but maybe he associates it with gyaru reader both mimicking him and attempting to gain his attention (which he didn’t really give) so he doesn’t like it because him of his guilt?

Spot on! Bruce doesn't care much of the style itself if he see's any other people dressing like a gyaru he wouldn't really care just be reminded of the reader. Batman is the greatest detective but Bruce Wayne is a man.

As a parent you see the worst and best part of you in your child , Bruce hoped he didn't affect you in any way like how he did with the others but he did just not in a way he expected. He was caught off guard how you imitate his persona too well.

He did crazy shit as Brucie Wayne that a child like you should never do. (Ex. In Gotham Knights , He was dancing practically naked in penguins club) He did that to make sure no one will connect the dots of him being batman. It also made him realize you know nothing of him and nothing of you. You and him are no better than strangers walking by.

So he did what thinks what's best to help you. He dialed down with the Playboy persona , the fucking , the drinking , and flirting. He spent more time with you giving comments on your style every time he see's you do makeup and picking clothes. He didn't outright tell you to stop , no he was subtle making you second guess everything.

"Are you sure you wanna wear that?"

"Maybe try for a natural look , kids your age like that"

"Your too much"

It drives the reader insane , cause no matter what they still care. Too much, those two words hurt them the most. They always wanted more for themself , so being called too much triggers them. It's making them second guess everything from all their nails , wigs , big eyelashes, loud clothes and etc. Slowly they start becoming "cleaner". Which to Bruce happily does slowly getting rid of clothes for him to buy more of clothes he seemed appropriate. Hey you , him and Damian can match! Don't worry you'll still be the attention just in a better way.

[ernmark]

Okay, so:

When I was little, my mom would pop me and my brothers into a little wagon and walk us over to the public library, and she'd come back with a bunch of VHS tapes of pretty much anything that looked kid-friendly that didn't make her lose her mind. It kept us occupied, but also helped us to learn English outside of school (for my older brother) and before we started school (for my younger brother and myself).

Two of these tapes were the Rankin Bass Hobbit and Return of the King.

Now keep in mind, I was also watching home-recorded VHS tapes that we brought over from Germany, and I remembered a lot of those more clearly than the American tapes that got cycled out every time my mom took us to the library.

Fast forward a decade or so, 2001, when the Fellowship of the Ring hit theaters. But we didn't have a ton of money, so seeing a film in theaters wasn't a priority. But everybody was talking about it, so I started reading the book. And it seems familiar, but... not. And I can't put my finger on why.

Later that year, my middle school English class read the Hobbit-- and again, weirdly familiar. Like, really weirdly so. And then at the end of the unit, we watched the Rankin/Bass Hobbit film, and I thought oh! That's why! I've seen this film before!

(Except there were songs I kept remembering that obviously weren't in the film, so maybe I saw a different cut? Maybe I dreamed it? And clearly Bilbo had all ten fingers to the end credits, so that was a weird thing to misremember.)

Then the DVD of the Fellowship of the Ring comes out, and one of my friends has me come over to watch it. And same as with the book (I hadn't yet made it past the Two Towers), and still these little details kept popping into my head that were wrong, but in ways I couldn't articulate. Maybe they were details from the book that got cut? Didn't Gollum, like, jump on somebody's shoulders at one point? Weird how he didn't actually confront them. And I kept remembering that Frodo had Nine Fingers, but he clearly didn't, we kept getting very clear shots of Elijah Wood's hands, so that didn't make any sense at all.

But I really enjoyed the movie, and I was really hyped for the next one, and so I started digging deeper into it. And my friend discovered that there WAS, in fact, an old cartoon that dealt with Frodo et al: the 1978 Lord of the Rings (which, weirdly, cut off during the Two Towers), and that was just frustrating-- nothing looked like I remembered, and nobody was singing, and everything was rotoscoped, and Frodo still had all his fingers???

I cannot describe to you the surreality of spending more than a year chasing a half-remembered film that simultaneously is and is not all of these other iterations and being unable to articulate why-- or the giddy vindication I felt when I finally got my hands on another copy of The Return of the King and finally proved that I hadn't hallucinated the entire thing.

All of which is to say:

The poll is missing an option.

[mothlau]

hello, for the kink meme, could i humbly ask you for leztappen and watersports/piss kink please? (and, if possible, with little to no desperation/humiliation?)

also, i wish you a happy new year, may it be filled with joy and good things for you!

hiii beloved!!! this one got out of control and also I hope it has enough humiliation. I tried to tone it down but honestly, it's piss play, you need the humiliation. anyway, happy new year to you too! 10 days too late but oh well! enjoy the piss play, puppy play, daddy kink and gp!max combo friends:3 (kink meme here)

6451 words :3

Most of their friends assume that it's Charles who's wrapped around Max’s finger. That she cannot say no to Max no matter how extravagant the demand may be, that whatever Max says or wants is final. To an extent, they're right. After all, she’s the femme, and according to people’s heteronormative minds, the one who is more feminine in the relationship is the one who cares more, who’s more attentive. 

Charles is wrapped around Max’s finger. But just as much, Max is whipped for Charles. If someone were to compare the amount of fondness they have for each other, people will quickly realize that it's not Charles who's wrapped around a little finger 24/7. 

It's Max. 

Max cannot deny Charles’ wishes; Max bends the whole world to give her lover the happiness she deserves. It's Max who spends nights upon nights to plan perfect getaways for their anniversaries, it's Max who gave into her wishes and got Charles the Steinway and placed the piano directly in their living room.

And, at the end of the day, it's Max who does everything in her power to make sure Charles enjoys herself. 

Whenever she notices something that Charles may find pleasure in, she stores the information away, making sure to bring it up when they're discussing scenes or new interests that may have sparked. Even with Charles’ overbearing eagerness to try new things with her, she  rarely initiates ideas. 

She's still shy, in spite of the time they've been together. It's endearing to Max, that Charles still blushes bright red when Max takes her bra off, that she’s still a mess when Max slides her hands down her thighs.

The list of things she wants to try is getting long, something that Max doesn't mind, per se. She doesn't, because in the end she can twist Charles into the perfect little puppet for her to toy with. They don't mind, because they’re certain Charles will like whatever they propose to her. 

He's toyed with an idea before, almost put it into action too, but in the end it didn't seem fit to make Charles piss herself without any rules set in stone yet. There's no doubt that the woman won't agree with it, but Max will rather postpone their play than do something that may make Charles even a little bit uncomfortable. 

So, despite her wishes and desires to break Charles, Max keeps everything under wraps. 

Whatever thoughts Charles shares with them during heated sessions and foggy mindsets, Max notes all in their head, safe to be used later on. Where to hit Charles, how to press her buttons theoretically, when to push, when to pull. Every little idea, all of them organised in Max’s brain, nicely and orderly. 

The last thing Charles told them about seemed easy enough when she first uttered her fantasy. Slap Charles’ pussy until she was cumming and begging for mercy. Simple, Max's done worse in her relationships. 

But with Charles, it wasn't as simple. She’s hit her lover before, tied her up and used whatever she fancied to break her, but it was always kept under an invisible, unspoken line. 

In spite of his cruel hands and words, Max can never truly hurt her beloved Charles. As much as it turns Max on, it pains her to cause her harm, even when Charles begs for that torture. Unless she's positive, one hundred percent and then some more, that at the end Charles will be drunk on pleasure. 

It's not unusual for their plays to be hit or miss, but Max prides herself in them being hits most of the time. 

They mention wanting to try new things during a relaxed dinner, when they’re almost sure Charles forgot about the things she's babbled on during a previous scene. And, of course, Charles agrees readily, albeit a bit timid and flushed. 

After that, it's smooth sailing on Max's side, at least. Charles is stuck with anticipation bubbling under her skin and the fear of uncertainty tearing at her conscience. 

To Max, who likes the waiting game, it's beautiful. To Charles, who is used to getting whatever she desires with minimum effort, it's hell. 

Every other day he makes Charles drink more than she can usually handle, slowly but surely trying to train the woman into holding her piss longer and longer. Most days it's a hassle which ends up with Charles whining and rushing to the bathroom, Max not bothering to stop her. But then there are some days, rare and in between, when Charles manages to go hours upon hours without running from Max's hold. 

The praise Charles gets also helps her, no matter how much she's trying to deny the humiliating claims. 

Almost a week later, Charles pushes a full bottle of water into Max's hands, making her look away from the laptop. Max doesn't need any clarification as to why she does this, nor does he need any pleas or guilty looks to nod at Charles' silent request. 

She trusts Max enough for the blonde to gain complete control over her bodily needs. Max can't help but smile fondly at it as they let the bottle rest on their thigh. Charles sits on the ground, head thrown back on the edge of the couch, minding the poorly balanced laptop. 

"Whenever you're ready," Max whispers, hand reaching out to tug at a few matted strands. Charles simply nods and allows herself to fall, Max's soothing touch being the only thing keeping her afloat. 

It takes Charles only an hour to finish the water, drinking obediently every time Max urges her to. She's even quicker to bring Max another one and one more, all whilst finishing them without any fuss. 

And then, as Max closes his laptop and opens his arms for Charles to crawl into, it only takes a few minutes for Charles' eyes to get cloudy and for her touch to get needier. The sight before her makes Max euphoric, an undeniable call to protect and please the withering woman in her lap. 

"You still with me, darling?" The words are barely above a whisper, but even so they grasp at Charles' conscience and pull her in just enough for the brunette to nod against Max's chest. All pliant and soft in their hands, Max isn't sure whether or not to move their play away from the couch and into their bedroom, where towels and mats lie specifically for what's to happen next. 

"Hurts a bit, Maxie," Charles says, voice all hushed and feeble. The hand resting on Max's bicep tugs and squeezes, a poor attempt for Charles to regain control over herself. 

"Colour, pretty?" 

It takes Charles a moment, already gone and drifting, but soon, she mumbles a simple and clear, "Green." 

"Do you want me to carry you to the bedroom, angel? I don't think we'll like our couch smelling like piss after this." 

Despite how embarrassing the words should be, Max doesn't find them shameful anymore. She’s been fantasising about this for months now, the idea of watching Charles crumble under her orders and hands, her lover losing whatever ounce of self-control she still has and letting it all loose. That's enough for Max to push away any shame that might've been left inside. 

With Charles, it's not the same. The woman’s face flushes a bright red, the color travelling under the collar of her shirt, painting the hidden skin in beautiful hues of reds and pinks. Almost as beautiful as the marks they flush over. 

Almost. 

When there's no answer coming from Charles, Max gets the unspoken message. As always, Charles wants Max to carry her, manhandle her as if she's nothing but a lightweight in Max's hold. Which, undoubtedly, she is. 

With a quick movement, Max stands, gentle hands reaching out to lift Charles with ease. Her perfect little girl whines and squirms, the sudden change already too much for her sensitive state. 

"This ok?" Max asks, voice full of worry. 

Charles can only nod again, words lost somewhere in her head, muddled by thoughts full of desire, lust, animalistic instincts. After the quick answer, Max takes her time getting them to the bedroom, mostly because with each sickeningly slow step she takes out of the living room and down the hallway, Charles becomes that much more responsive to Max's cold touch. 

In preparation for their scene, Charles spread out the puppy mats they’ve gotten, while Max took his time to make sure that nothing of value could be ruined. The pillows were all sitting on the reading nook next to the window, towels have been placed close enough to the bed that Max didn’t have to look around for them and amid the whole mess of colorful cotton and stark white paper, now lies Charles. 

Charles, her perfect girl, who looks up at Max as if she’d hung the stars in the sky and then proceeded to create a whole universe just for Charles. Charles, her lovely girl, who is barely able to hold back tears as Max refuses to touch her just yet. Charles, her divine lover, whose back arches off the puppy mats when Max's knees hit the mattress, wanton moans and whined pleas falling from between bitten lips. 

"Puppy," Max bites back a smile. "Puppy, can you sit up a bit?" They crawl on the bed, remaining above Charles without their knees touching the woman’s sides. "I want you to drink some more, can you?" 

"Yes," Charles breathes out, fingers tightening around the puppy mat underneath. "Yes, daddy. Anything for you, Maxie." 

Max's face fills with love and adoration for the woman writhing beneath. Such a perfect, responsive being, all belonging to Max alone. He couldn't be happier. 

Helping Charles sit up, back leaning on the hardboard, Max reaches for the bottle left on the bedside table. Another thing Charles prepared, in hopes that Max would make her drink it and push her to the edge. 

"You're being so good for me, Charlie. Making me so proud right now." 

"I am?" Charles asks, a look full of hope blooming on her face. 

Max kisses the smile off her face, gentle and careful. "You are. My best girl, perfect little one. That's what you are, Charlie."

"Maxie–" the human whines, pressing her face into their open palms. "Need you." 

Unable to stop herself, Max pushes with her malevolent teasing, a vicious smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “You need me? How? Need me to touch your greedy cunt? Need me to slap it? Want me to press here?” Max's fingers push on the swollen bladder, light enough to simply make Charles cry out. “Or maybe you need me to fuck your dumb hole until you’re pissing all over yourself.” The woman sobs again, nodding along with Max's words mindlessly. “Which one is it, puppy?” 

“Yes,” she answers, muffled by her own hand.

“Dumb puppy,” Max smiles, feeling his chest overflow with butterflies and flowers. “Let’s finish the water first, then I’ll decide what you deserve.”

The silence that fills the room feels deafening as Max watches Charles. She is struggling to twist the cap off, fingers white with how hard she’s gripping the bottle. Max makes no move to help her, smirk still plastered on their face, eyes ranking up and down Charles' shaking body as she gets more and more annoyed. 

She lets out an exasperated whine, head hitting the wood behind him, “Max.”

“Yes, pup?”

Suddenly she has a handful of plastic to deal with, all while Charles stares at her with the same hurt expression she abuses whenever Max refuses to immediately give in. He can’t say no to her, no matter how much he’d like to watch her struggle some more. One simple twist later, the warmed liquid spills onto Charles shorts, seeping into the cotton and making Charles tremble.

Without uttering a word, Max grabs Charles face, fingers digging into the woman’s flushed cheeks to hold her mouth open. Charles tongue lolls out, expecting Max to spit on top of it, to push their finger past her lips and fuck her mouth ruthlessly. 

From her place above Charles, Max laughs. Her weight falls atop of Charles thighs, sweatpants clinging to her legs, making the restrictive touch feel worse. If he could, he’d take the pants off in an instant, but right now Max has to focus on Charles and Charles alone. 

Pink lips attempt to close around Max's fleeting forefinger, but the force Max has stops Charles before she can even whine. The water bottle feels heavy in her hand, and though it would feel rewarding to dump it over Charles' head, humiliate her further, Max knows that what’s to happen next will be even sweeter. 

“Charles,” she says, tone icy cold. Max sees her lover swallow, fear budding in her eyes. “Tilt your head back for me, mutt.”

That’s all the woman needs. Eyes fall shut, mouth slips open with little resistance and her head falls back. Max's hand still resides on top of Charles’ cheeks. She can’t stop herself from moving it lower, enticed with the beauty presented so effortlessly in front of her. It rests on the column of his neck, barely touching the trashed skin. 

Underneath him, shudders run down Charles’ spine, lips agape in a soundless moan. They’ve never seen something as beautiful before, not once in their lifetime have they witnessed such perfection falling apart mere centimeters away from them. 

Bright red spreads down Charles neck, skin hot beneath Max's hold. The woman’s cheeks, dusted scarlet and covered by a thin layer of sweat, invite Max to press kisses on the crimson expanse of her face. A promise of being able to do so after he breaks Charles consoles Max's urge to revere the angel. Her pretty girl shifts under her touch, eyes opening slightly to see why Max is not painting her skin in hues of purple and red. 

“Daddy…” Charles sounds wrecked already. “Why aren’t you touching me?”

“I am, silly,” Max answers simply, hand tightening around the brunette’s neck. “See?”

A pathetic whine rips through Charles sobs, fingers closing around Max’s wrist. It is so unbelievably easy to toy with Charles’ feelings, to push her buttons until she’s begging like a mindless, broken mutt. Max loves it, almost as much as she loves the gentleness that engulfs them after. 

“Let’s drink the water and then I promise to touch you however you wish.” His thumb presses in the neck juncture, eliciting a pitiful moan from his beautiful lover. “Colour, Charlie? You still with me?”

“Green, daddy,” Charles breathes out, her hold on Max's wrist relaxing. “Please, Maxie… Please ruin me. Need-- Need it s’ bad, baby. S’te plait”

Something about the slurred speech, the glazed look in Charles’ eyes when she pins Max under a lustful glance, the slight tremble in Charles’ hands and shoulders stops Max from pulling the woman’s head back. He’s never had Charles this far gone before they even started. Part of them wants to stop, pull their lover out and make sure she’s alright and coherent enough to know what’s happening to her. 

Reluctantly, she lets go of Charles, scooting back enough to loom over her while still presenting a form of comfort for her shaking lover. 

“Charlie, I need you to check in one more time. Can you do that for me, please?”

“‘M green, Maxie. Promise.”

The look that Charles fixes Max with is one of pure lust, undeniable desire burning hot in molten emerald. It sets Max back a few steps, a carnal desire spreading in her blood, wrapping around each and every organ inside of her. It tugs painfully at the ravenous wish to destroy Charles. 

Holding back those sinful impulses, Max leans back in, hand on Charles shoulder as she carefully presses a kiss on the woman’s nose. Soft and gentle, exactly the opposite of what Charles asked for. 

Charles mewls, fingers tightening around the material of Max's shirt. “Max. Fucking fuck me, you idiot.”

He moves without thinking, the ear splitting sound of a slap resonating in the room. “Impatient mutt, you have to wait for what you want or else I’ll leave you. Do you want to be here alone, without my help or permission to touch your pathetic pussy?”

“No!” Charles all but cries, thrashing under Max's weight. “‘M sorry, daddy, didn’t mean to be rude. Please don’t leave me.” 

The tears streaming down Charles’ cheeks ignite the fire further. Their body feels aflame, possessiveness spiraling inside their chest. Max is the only one who can make Charles cry like this, the only one who can light her body a bright vermillion with few and in between touches and stares. He is the only one who will never leave Charles, not in a time of need, not in a time of sickness. 

Never. 

“I’d never leave you, darling,” Max reminds her, voice dripping in honey. “I’ll stay with you for as long as you’ll have me.” 

“Forever?” Charles asks, gaze shy, yet hopeful. 

“Forever,” Max easily agrees, sealing the deal with a short lived kiss. 

The tenderness is just as short lived, mean fingers wrapping around Charles locks and finally, finally pulling her head back. The woman’s lips fall open as she swallows dryly at what’s to come. 

Max wishes she could capture the work of art unraveling in front of her, keep it forever with her, tucked into her phone for her to enjoy when apart from her lover. Shaking her head, Max pushes those thoughts aside. 

“I’m going to make you drink all of this water, Charlie. Gonna make you drown on it until you’re sobbing and pissing all over yourself, understood?” Her voice leaves no room for argument and Charles can sense the strictness. She nods, attempts to despite the hand holding her head still. 

Not a single breath escapes Max while he pours the water past Charles parted lips. Mesmerized, he watches the woman struggle to swallow, her Adam’s apple bobbing with each gulp she manages to take. Tears fall from her closed eyes, breathing becomes more erratic. Still, Max doesn’t stop pouring. Not when water leaks down the sides of Charles face and onto the mats, not when Charles closes her mouth to calm herself, the two simple taps the woman places on his bicep fueling Max's sadism. 

The last few drops fall on top of her closed lips, running down heated skin with ease. Flushed skin seems to make the water evaporate, heating it up and leaving Charles hot and bothered before Max. Her eyes, though shut tight, twitch with every momentary touch. 

What a sight Max made of Charles. What a beautiful masterpiece he had created, all for himself to marvel at. This angel, this holy being that’s at Max's mercy is the embodiment of deadly sins. Lust and gluttony and pride and greed, all paint the insides of Max's chest in shades of green and bleeding red. 

Hypnotized, Max stares. 

She is so in love with this woman, so in love that no one could understand her devotion. No other can compare to Charles, no other can even come close to how dear Max holds this woman.

A whimpered whisper of his name breaks him out of his day dreaming. Their eyes focus on Charles’ face, red and blotchy with dried tears, trails of water and saliva going down her chin. She’s splendid, perfect in each and every way imaginable. She’s more than Max deserves, more than what she could’ve asked for. 

In any way, shape and form, Charles is her God, her angel and muse. 

“Max, please.” And despite not knowing what Charles is begging for, what she’s holding onto Max for, he cannot deny her precious love. When she’s pleading and sobbing for Max's touch, she’d have to be mad to ignore such saccharine requests. 

“Yes, my love, I know. You want me to touch you and make you cum. Your greediness never fails to impress me,” she sighs mournfully, putting on an act to rile her pretty girl up even more. “Say, you think you deserve to cum? You really think you’ve been good?”

“Yes!” Charles sobs, digging her fingernails into Max's shoulders. “I’ve been s’ good for you, daddy! Drank everything and-- and held my piss like a good girl.” She’s crying again, choking on her own sobs and spit. It’s a pitiful image, but Max relishes in the loud weeps. 

Charles is just so bewitching when she’s reduced to nothing but a sobbing mess. 

Max hums, deep in thought as she pretends to weigh the limited options she has. They don’t want to tease Charles for much longer, doubts they even can do it without giving themself blue balls, but God, they want to. Briefly, she thinks back to the list of things she’d planned out to do with Charles today and suddenly she doesn’t care about teasing Charles. She’d rather overstimulate her until she’s blabbering nonsense and shaking. 

“Colour?” 

Charles frowns at him, pout tugging at her lips. “Green,” she mumbles, chin tucked into her chest. “Please, daddy. It hurts!”

“Oh?” Max quirks her eyebrow, smirking down at the corrupted little thing. “Where does it hurt, baby girl?”

Her hand flies from Max's shoulder, resting gently above her own bladder, careful as to not press on it. Max can’t have this. Without much care, she moves Charles hand aside, pressing her thumb into the woman’s swollen abdomen. 

Charles’ sobs rip through her body, writhing as she tries to get away from the pressure Max is putting on her. In one swift move, she pulls her lover down, shirt riding up along with the mats. He moves from his place atop Charles’ thighs, momentarily sitting on the mattress while observing her. 

Without the weight on top of her, Charles lifts his head, confused and dazzled. She spots Max quickly, and without much thought she gives Max her best puppy eyes, bottom lip jutted out to effectively pull on Max's heartstrings. 

“Daddy, please come back and touch me,” her girl demands, face smushed into the pillow. “Wanna cum, please.”

Gods, Max will never tire of hearing her beg. 

He doesn’t utter a single sound while maneuvering Charles to sit between her legs. Doesn’t sprinkle any mean comments in when Charles wraps them around Max's waist, ankles crossed behind her back to hold Max close. Even when Charles buries her face deeper into the pillow, Max doesn’t say a word. 

They’re observing, committing every detail unfolding in front of them to memory, tucking away the pictures for later. 

Charles whimpers into the cotton covers, holding back another sob. “Hurts, daddy.”

“Does it?” Max asks. Her fingers itch to touch, to claim what’s hers with dark bruises in the form of Max's palms. “Should I make the pain go away, puppy?” The woman nods minutely. Had Max not been paying attention, he might’ve missed it. “Alright, darling. I’m gonna take your shorts off now, ok?” Another easy to miss nod. “Can you check in with me real fast, angel?”

“You can take them off, daddy. I’m green, j’st really hurts. Wan’ cum but it’s too much.”

As soon as the shorts and soiled panties are off, Max holds Charles’ foot gently, bringing it to his lips. She presses a single kiss in the middle of her sole, making the woman giggle despite the discomfort she is in. It brings a smile on Max's face, hearing her pretty girl laugh like this, all shy and soft. Charles covers her face, hands hiding the beautiful blush Max's put on her cheeks. 

Still, she can’t hide her pretty pussy, bruising red and leaking down her thighs, making for the most unholy view, nor can she conceal the flush on his neck, going under the shirt and coming back on her hips and thighs. Charles blushes beautifully, Max has come to know. Her whole body turns the loveliest shade of red, from the tips of her ears when Max leans in to whisper sweet I love you’s in public, to her thighs, burning red under Max's ministrations. 

It’s truly and absolutely fascinating, to say the least. 

“How do you want this, Charlie? On your back or on your stomach?”

“Back,” Charles answers eagerly. 

Max chuckles darkly, amused by the woman’s enthusiasm to piss all over herself. “Well, pup, go ahead. Wet yourself like the dumb mutt you are.” 

It’s an interesting progression, what happens next. Charles’ eyes shut tight, a deep frown creasing her forehead. She’s silent, panting while she struggles to let go. Under Max's loving gaze, Charles breaks. Frustrated sobs wreck through her, fists balling into the mats. The image is enough to make possessiveness spark underneath Max's skin, igniting their desires to keep these moments safe and away from anyone else. To keep Charles to themself. 

“Max, I can’t.” 

In a way, Max understands her pain and frustrations. She can imagine how hard it must be to let go, how humiliating the idea of pissing herself must be for Charles. Worry seeps into her bones again. 

“What can’t you do, angel?”

“I can’t--” Charles cuts herself off with a loud mewl. “Can’t go, daddy!”

“Can’t?” The fingers rubbing soothing circles on Charles' ankle ghost over her leg, moving to her hip, touch cold and brief, before stopping on the woman’s abdomen. “Or won’t?” The press is just a brief, a green ticket for Charles to call it quits in case she changes her mind. 

She doesn’t. 

“Can’t, daddy! It’s too ‘mbarrassing,” she mumbles into her hands, hiding behind them as a form of faux-comfort. “Help, Maxie…” The hushed and broken tone makes Max blink at his lover. 

Realization floods him. “Oh, you’re such a naughty thing, love,” he says with a laugh. Her previous gentleness is gone, thumb pressing roughly into Charles bladder, making the woman squirm in discomfort and pain. “Needing me to make you piss,” Max tuts, shaking her head at the crying beauty laid before her. “Naughty, messy little one. You never fail to impress me.”

Back arching off the mattress, Charles thrusts her hips in the air, oh so close to Max, yet so far away. She humps the air, ivory teeth biting the back of her hand, canines digging into tanned skin without an ounce of self-control. And yet, she’s still not letting go. 

It’s a wonder, how she’s managed to keep it in for so long, despite Max's continuous teasing. It makes Max just that more hungry, craving to see Charles come apart at his hand. 

“Daddy--” Charles stutters, the frown on her face only deepening with each second in which Max tortures her slowly. “Can’t do it, Maxie. Need your hand on my clit, daddy! Hurts too much!” She sounds so completely and utterly broken, so distressed and in this moment, Max swears she’s never been more in love with the sounds someone makes, let alone with the person letting them out. 

“Since you’ve asked so nicely,” she agrees without a fuss, right hand moving between Charles’ thighs, finger pressing into her swollen clit, squeezing it harshly to draw out more needy noises from Charles. 

“Thank you, thank--” Charles whines loudly, teeth pulling at her fingers, bitemarks imprinted on them. Desperate sounds bleeding into the room plague Max's mind. “I’m gonna--”

But Charles doesn’t get to finish her warning. With Max's hand moving faster and faster over Charles’ clit, she finally comes undone. Her whole body goes rigid, before relaxing into the sheets as a hot stream of piss leaks down her thighs, soaking the sheets, the mats, Max’s sweatpants, everything. 

Max didn’t know what to expect when he was planning this. Piss, surely; a mess, of course. But she didn’t expect for it to be so… enticing. The idea of Charles pissing herself did fascinate her, but she never thought it will be this hot. Watching Charles break turns her on more than she’d like to admit; it’s maddening, intoxicating. 

The stream doesn’t seem to be ending, liquid glistening atop Charles skin, seeping into his shirt, the mats absorbing as much as they can. Max is surprised that not much gets on his own clothes, only his knees wet with how he’s standing on the bed, the shirt he’s wearing remaining dry, safe for the edges pooling around his waist. 

She’s impossibly hard in her sweats and the sinfully erotic image of Charles panting, eyes shut tight, pussy spasming and leaking, piss drenching her clothes and the bed she’s resting on… It takes everything out of her to not devour the woman, but despite her best efforts she can’t stop her fingers from twitching with need, moving from Charles abdomen down her thigh, squeezing the fat with brute force. 

“Charles,” Max breathes out, voice strained. “Can I fuck your thighs?”

Charles legs tighten around her waist, hands gripping at Max's forearms. They’re bound to be bruised the next day, but neither care. Max loves being marked and purple just as much as she adores putting them across Charles' perfect body. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” Charles chants, head thrown back in pure bliss. “Please touch me, daddy. Wanna cum now, daddy.”

Laughing to herself, Max reaches into their bedside table for the lube, fingers still massaging and squeezing at Charles thighs. “What, pissing yourself wasn’t enough to make you cum?” There’s no time to wait for the woman’s response. Max needs to cum just as badly as her sweet girl. 

The pretty blush spreading across Charles' body stops them for just a moment. A moment they uses to gawk at Charles, put some more images away in their head for later. She’s gorgeous. Thoroughly and unconditionally so. 

And Max, Max whose heart beats faster each time she steals a glance at her beautiful girl, Max whose stomach fills with butterflies and whose organs are wrapped in flowers and crystals and vines so thick they're making it hard to breathe, Max who cannot do anything but fall deeper in love with Charles, falls. She falls again and again, until she’s bruised and her knees are bleeding, yet she cannot stop. She wants this perfect woman, her perfect girl forever. Wants to fall for her more and more as their bones grow weak and the soil reclaims what belongs to it. 

The lube is cold when it hits Charles’ thighs, if the hiss she lets out is any form of indication of it. Not even the hotness that Charles emanates is enough to warm it up while Max sheds her sweatpants, cock springing free. He’s redder than Charles, untouched and begging to be buried in between Charles thighs. They’re both silent as Max guides Charles to squeeze her legs together, feet thrown over Max's shoulder to make it easier for her. 

Soft moans fill the room, Charles saccharine noises coating Max's dazed mind with a thick fog. Charles is a fuel, a fuel for unprompted decisions leading to handprints bruised on a tanned neck and fingerprints atop wide hips. Charles burns her, her touch burns deep into Max's skin, melting hardened walls with ease. It feels like she's boiling alive, underneath her skin. 

All because of Charles. 

His cock aches as he pushes its head past Charles' thighs. The press is astonishingly tight, so much so that Max feels the air being knocked from her lungs the more she pushes. God, she loves Charles’ thighs; she cannot get enough of feeling them around her, squeezing her, pulling her cock farther in. They want them wrapped around their head, their waist, their cock. Everywhere. 

“Angel,” Max moans, grip on Charles hips more secure with each shallow thrust. “You feel so good around me, angel. Your thighs were made to be fucked.” As an answer, Charles whimpers, biting on her bottom lip to keep the loudest noises away. “Made entirely for me to use, isn’t that right--” Max prides herself for the amount of self-restraint she has, but once she’s touching Charles, it all dissipates. 

“Yours, daddy. Only belong to you,” the woman agrees mindlessly. 

The drag across hot skin is rough, even with the amounts of lube and piss still on Charles legs. It’s mind numbing, uncomfortable enough to make Max hiss in pleasure as he increases the speed minutely. 

Charles' eyes are glued to her own legs, watching Max's cock poke out between them hungrily. If Max didn’t know any better she’d even say she’s salivating, mouth slightly open, tongue sticking out. But she’s not, because in moments like this, when Charles gets so focused on something that she doesn’t even blink, it’s almost like all her bodily functions shut down. All but her ability to stare and burn each detail into her retina. 

“You like watching your thighs swallow me whole, baby girl?" Max asks with a soft chuckle. “You have no idea how good you feel, love,” his words get stuck in his throat, another frail whine escaping Max. 

“Want you to touch me, daddy,” Charles whispers into thick air. It takes Max a moment to realize she’s spoken and then another one to take in what Charles said, but once she does her hand immediately moves to rest against Charles' clit. 

He doesn’t move it yet, waiting for Charles to break once again and beg for Max to make her cum. The thrusts don’t slow down, each one pulling Max closer to the edge. Volatile reds bloom across Charles' body, tainting Max's pale skin in its progress. She’d rather have the woman’s teeth stain her ruby and violet instead, but this will do. 

The sight of her beautiful lover alone can make Max cum. Seeing her so transfixed on the part where her cock peeks out, eyes glazed with want and lust only adds to the carnal effect she has on Max. 

Max is close, thrusts coming to a halt every time her navel touches the back of Charles’ thighs. He’s close and Charles is surprisingly quiet, yet just as spellbound. Without hrt own accord, Max's fingers rub over the woman’s clit, drawing out a series of rich whines and sobs, each more delicious than the other. 

She swallows them all with a hungry, starved kiss. 

In a flurry of chasing their own orgasm, Max's hand begins moving faster over Charles, sweet noises escaping the woman with each thrust and every press. The position is uncomfortable, Max's neck hurting as she leans down to press kisses on Charles face. She doubts the way Charles is folded is any better, but her lover’s only complaints are about needing to cum faster and harder. 

“Max, Maxie--” Charles chokes on her own spit. “Can I cum? Please, let me, daddy!” She’s sobbing again, beautifully so. Face red, with streaks of tears upon streaks of tears, saliva dripping down the corners of her mouth. 

Max almost doesn’t manage to give her permission, voice dying in her throat before she can get the words out on the first try. Their movements get that more clumsy with every pull back, the hand on Charles’ pussy stopping its strokes for a brief moment.  “Yes, sweetheart,” she says after her hips still enough for Max to recompose herself. 

That is all Charles needs. The granted permission, the grazing kissing Max continues to press all over her face, the hand that resumes its fast paced stroking. All of them tilt Charles over and with a single, loud keen, she cums all over Max's hand. 

Max isn't far behind. The woman brings her legs closer, impossibly tight, wishing to have Max's cum mix with hers. Max can barely breathe, air coming out in short puffs as he struggles to keep himself above Charles, lest he wants to collapse on top of his lovely girl. 

Charles' thighs are Heavenly around him. 

"Maxie," Charles moans, a quiet sob coming out of her. "Cum for me." 

With a whimper, Max goes still, spilling all over Charles' perfect thighs. The room is silent, safe for their heavy breathing and occasional whine Charles lets out. 

Blissful afterglow seeps into Charles' features, red bleeding out and leaving only coral pink behind. She's breathtaking, basking in her own orgasm, eyes closed and head tilted back. She's breathtaking, thighs still shaking around Max, hands letting go, without meaning to, of Max's arms.

Max's hand pulls away, moving up towards the woman’s mouth. The cum is already drying on her fingers, but that doesn't stop her from pushing two of them past Charles lips, watching with so much love as she sucks them into her mouth without a single complaint. 

God, Max just keeps on falling. 

"You're so pretty, Charlie. Been so good for me today," Max's tone is quieter, scared of breaking the moment they've created. Charles stays silent, only smiling up at her lover, completely blissed out with the fingers slowly pushing in and out of her mouth, resting on the brunette’s tongue every now and again. 

“Thanks, mate,” she whispers around Max's fingers. 

Max stops altogether, a stunned expression on his face. “Did you… just call me mate after I made you piss yourself and fucked your thighs?”

The smile Charles offers him is so stupidly endearing that Max can’t even find it in her to be upset by the absurdity of it all. 

“Alright, pretty girl, let’s get you in the shower. You reek of piss and I’m too tired to do anything else tonight,” Max says with a soft laugh. Her fingers leave Charles mouth, and though the whine the woman gives her does tug at her heartstrings, Max doesn’t give in. Charles can always fall asleep sucking on their fingers if she really does want that, but right now they’d rather take a long, hot shower and not think about the smell seeping into their mattress. 

“You have to carry me, though,” Charles informs him, matter of factly. 

Max scoffs, but nonetheless she stands and picks the woman up, throwing her over her shoulder. “I always carry you, idiot.”

“Yes, because it turns you on that you can manhandle me,” Charles scoffs back. “I’ll blow you in the morning if you wash my hair.”

Max sighs. “Fine,” she agrees, not bothering to tell Charles that she would’ve taken care of that without the promise of a blowjob. Charles doesn’t need her ego inflated any more than it already is. “It better be the best blowjob of my life, though.”

“Oh, you’ll love it, mon chou,” Charles laughs. 

Max doesn’t doubt it, but it’s nice to play the role sometimes. 

After all, Charles still hasn’t caught up on the fact that Max is so in love with her she’d give up everything to make her happy.

[gh7stly]

EPILOGUE — poly 141 x immortal gn!reader

<not proofread or anything, been sitting in my draft for the longest time! i hope someone'll enjoy>

The blood that painted your body itches, you noticed. It irked you, really, so the idea of spending one more hour on the same clothes you had on when you left for this mission was a torture by itself. As the helicopter shook one last time while landing, you immediately started making your way to the community bathroom, ignoring every greetings of other soldiers, previous mission partners and privates in the way. Muppets. 

“I thought the military taught basic etiquette, soldier. Been looking forward to making it home?” A voice not so strange called after you, slowly turning around as if scared to scare it away, Kate Laswell enters your vision. “Happy?”

You make a false discontent face. “Last time I saw your face I had 7 less lives in my hand, happiness is not the right feeling…. More like a bad omen?”

“I’m glad You're here and alive, then. You even taken a bath yet? There's subjects to be taken care of and I need you available as soon as possible, and, yes, I'm making the proposal again”, you take notice of how she avoided the responsibility and somehow proved your “bad omen” point, Kate's proposal didn't mean good things to come. “This is not the place to talk about it, Spook, but it is the right time. We need y-”

You bark out a laugh. “Fuck no, Laswell”, patting her on the shoulder, you turn around and start walking. “Coronel is not agreeing, plus, I have no interest in your suicide inhibitions against the US. Give up!”

“Spook. The time is running out. You know why you'd be the most important thin-”

“Thing?” 

Laswell makes a disapproving sound from getting interrupted again. Aware of the sudden seriousness of the moment, she grabs your arm to go further into the corridor away from the crowds and recruits.

“You are not a 14 year old girl, Spook. You are a soldier, a soldier responding to one of the biggest special forces in the world, and you have the ability of doing what I could only wish to do”, she stopped walking abruptly and stared down into your soul, this discussion is your least favorite one to have. “You can fuck up. Has this not internalized into you yet? Dead boys are sent to their mamas everyday for a tiny mistake but you have the ability of throwing it all into the air and walking away unharmed, so why not use who you are for the better cause? We need you”

Her words punctuated your gut, your frustrations boiled up deep in your stomach and revealed itself by the shaking in your hands; they've gotten worse recently, you've come to notice. There wasn't much to do about it except put them into fists and dig your nails deep into the palm of your hand until it made you grounded enough to find your voice, stuck in the back of your throat. This subject, this proposal and its implications had enough force to make you crumble easily, Laswell of course knew nothing about it – just that you were stubborn and kept refusing. 

“I am here because you asked me to make you useful, because you wanted to help. I know you're a human, Spook, but you're in the military and not a playground. What you want is not what you're getting sometimes, not because you don't matter, but because you are a useful trick we could have up our sleeve. So I'm going to ask you again, are you going to fucking help or not?

Staying in silence, you bit your tongue to stop from getting an insubordination letter. Part of you, the human part you guessed, felt talked down still. Did you ask for this life? Who made you this way? Wanting to help didn't mean killing yourself on purpose on missions, didn't mean getting used by superiors like an unbreakable toy. You're here because you wanted to be a hero, but right now, you're afraid of having more blood on yourself than the villains.

The other part, the freak one as you called, knew that that's exactly what you were. A puppet. From the moment you joined the military, it was better to devoid yourself from feelings, needs, or any basic thought. You liked it, even. Getting pushed to the limits of morality, treated like a piece of a big chess match. A cold air passed through you both until you finally had swallowed enough ego to speak.

“Let me at least change clothes and then you can go through your little plan." That was the closest thing to a yes you could've gotten before puking bile, but it was enough for her.

“Thank you, Spook. 1700 sharp” nodding, you let out a sigh you weren't aware of holding.

“You're a bad omen, Laswell. After today, I hope it'll be a long time until we meet again.” Even with the harsh words, a project of a smile showed in your face. Kate Laswell was probably the closest thing to a mom you'll ever have in your life. “I agree.”

[magicalbuttertarts]

26 on the smut prompt list, with current HHH (wrestling name/in-character) and f reader. thanks 🤗

WWE Masterlist

Smut Prompt List 2

This has not been proofread. Please enjoy though.

Warnings: Smut under the cut. Unprotected sex. P in v. Cock warming. Oral (m receiving) cum swallowing.

Requested by anonymous.

WC: 682

©️ magicalbuttertarts 2025: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

#26: “Come here, you can sit on my lap till I’m finished”

"You told me you would be done by now." I told him as I closed the door to his office. He didn't even bother to look up from the paperwork he was going over.

"You know I have to get this last bit of paperwork signed before we leave today." He looked at me from over his glasses.

I huffed and collapsed in the chair sitting across from him, and I could see that he was enjoying me acting like a little brat.

The room was silent, the only sound was his pen scratching against the paperwork.

I began to fidgeting in my seat, and I knew Hunter hated when I just couldn't sit still.

"Come here." He finally said, pushing his chair back as I stood up, excited to finally leave, but he wasn't getting up.

"Now, sit here." He patted his lap as he saw the confused look on my face.

"I am not a child, Hunter." I went to go back to the seat I was sitting in, but he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me back against him.

"I know you aren't, just sit here and look pretty for me. Yeah, can you do that for me?" My mouth went dry as he unzipped his pants and pulled his hard cock out, jerking it.

My pussy clenched around nothing at the thought of cockwarming him as he worked.

"Come here, you can sit on my lap till I’m finished."

I took off my panties, kicking them to the side and sitting in his lap, my chest pressed against his as I slowly sank down onto him, my eyes squeezing shut as my ass met his thighs.

Hunter groaned my name as I placed my head in his neck, shuddering at the feeling of him filling me up perfectly.

"Now if you sit still until I am done, then we can go." He grunted out through clenched teeth

"Okay." Was all I could say.

♥︎

Hunter kept adjusting us in his seat, and I swear it was on purpose.

I couldn't help but make a mess in his lap, as he worked. I knew his pants are a mess due to me, but fuck, he keeps hitting my g-spot just to make clench my pussy around his cock.

"Doing so well for me." He said to me as he kissed my tear stained cheeks, the pleasure becoming to much for me.

But he moved once more, and I couldn't hold it back anymore. I clung onto him as my body shook with how intense this orgasm was.

I could hear him swearing under his breath as he stood up, and laid me across the papers he was signing.

Wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling back just enough to leave the tip in before slamming into me, making me scream his name.

Hunter didn't hold back as he fucked me through another orgasm, his hands gripping my waist so fucking tight, I will feel it tomorrow.

All of a sudden, he pulled out, forcing me to the ground, demanding I keep my mouth open before shoving his cock in my mouth, just in time for him to cum.

His cum filling my mouth so fast, that I had trouble swallowing, some of it leaked out of the corners of my mouth.

"Fucking hell." He groaned as he pulled back, dropping back into his chair.

I wrapped my lips around his cock once more, cleaning him off as he was trying to catch his breath.

"Let's get out of here." He said as he stood up, tucking himself away and handing me a few serviettes to clean my face with.

"If we are going out still, I will need to freshen up." I told him as he helped me to my feet.

"Oh no love, we are going to find a bed, and I am going to spend the rest of the night between your legs, making you scream my name as you cum on my face." He promised as we walked out of his office.

Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @madhatterbri @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @tahiri-veyla

[sewliia]

After TMA episode 108

(I wrote this for a friend after she listened to this episode and wanted to know what Elias And Peter were up to after Peter spooked Martin. I usually don't write much or share this stuff so I dunno - enjoy.)

Elias smiled from ear to ear as the fog crept into his office and up his leg. It announced the tall man long before he had even entered the room.

"Ah, Peter," Elias didn't look up. "I was wondering where you were."

"I suppose you think you're very funny. Don't you, Elias?"

There was no sound as the door opened and closed again after the man had entered. The thick fog swallowed up everything, even the sight. Elias found the latter particularly annoying. Most of the time.

But right now Peter was making another scene and Elias was enjoying every second of it.

"Oh, I found it quite amusing." Elias said as he put down his pen and turned his gaze to Peter, who was emerging further from the thick wall of fog with each step.

"I thought you'd like to meet Martin. The boy has some potential, doesn't he?"

Silence.

Maybe a little grumble.

Peter already looked tired. Deep trenches under his pale eyes only emphasised his listlessness.

"Why are you wasting my time?" It growled from Peter's throat, leaving a cloud of mist in its wake.

Elias smile faded a little and he stood up with a sigh. His hand slid over the smooth wood of his desk as he walked around it. Closer to Peter.

"Well, I was hoping we could talk about the Stranger's ritual and the consequences that might follow. But -"

Elias raised his voice teasingly and placed his hand on Peter's upper arm. He moved his thumb gently up and down while his gaze rested on Peter's eyes.

"I'd like to spend some time with you, too."

Peter let out a heavy breath that sounded like utter defeat. His shoulders slumped and with them the fog, as if following his posture. Slowly, the man raised his pale hands and wrapped them around Elias waist. He could feel the cold that radiated from Peter even through his clothes.

The lonely man knew no warmth and perhaps that was why Elias clung to Peter. They didn't need flirtation and empty words, which were usually only said to appease their partner anyway. He didn't even know if they had ever said 'I love you' to each other.

It didn't matter.

He liked it the way it is.

Elias put his free hand on Peter's cheek and smiled.

And Peter leaned forward. Kissing him.

[thewistlingbadger]

I'm annoyed that the many issues with canon Timebomb due to the rushed way the show handled the pairing have started to seep into the fanfic sphere too - namely, Jinx's mental illness being downplayed, Ekko having no personality, relationships or individual motivations outside of his relationship with Jinx and the Firelights being non-existent.

It's got to the point I actively seek out fics published between S1 and S2 over newer ones. They are more likely to nail Jinx and Ekko's characterisation and their dynamic where even the show's writers couldn't.

As someone who doesn't ship timebomb I completely understand your take and it is VALID. Timebomb as a concept is very interesting because theoretically you have these two childhood friends that lost each other only to be reunited later in life as enemies on opposing sides. That is some really compelling groundwork for a romantic relationship! However, the show doesn't really do anything to actually frame them like this. We rarely get to see Jinx and Ekko interact in the whole show, let alone exchange any dialogue with each other.

The timebomb "content" in season two feels misplaced and undeserved because it IS. The only time we've seen these two actually together in a meaningful way in s1 is their fight one the bridge. That fight made it clear that these two have a history that the audience isn't privy to and this one scene is the entire foundation for arcane! timebomb. Ekko has an entire episode in season two that is NOT dedicated to expanding his character, NOT dedicating to elaborating on his relationship with Jinx, but an episode that is dedicated to exploring an alternative reality where Jinx grew up to be a different person. We spend all this time with Ekko and Powder and then the show acts like their dynamic is somehow transferable to Ekko and Jinx by showing us that somehow when Ekko went back to Jinx he was able to reconcile with her and save her life and get her to fight one last time.

To me this makes no sense because episode 7 really didn't show us anything illuminating about Ekko or his relationship with Jinx. It didn't explain what happened between them, or why Ekko would have romantic feelings for Jinx. We go the whole show without ever actually getting any context as to what happened between them, so the nature of their relationship is truly a mystery. Ekko doesn't go through any major development in that episode, he stays consistent throughout the whole time. Ekko in general is unfortunately a character that goes unexplored throughout the whole show. We don't know much about who he is as a character and his goals, motivations, or reasonings. This same issue occurs with The Firelights. We know they're a group of rebels, but what do they ACTUALLY want and what are their plans to achieve their goals?

Ultimately it was decided that none of this mattered because instead of using the groundwork laid out in season one, season two only had one thing in mind: their end goal. And that end goal consisted largely of fan service, which is why we got a timebomb kiss. Not because it added to Jinx and Ekko's story (the kiss wasn't even between Jinx and Ekko lol) but because the ship is popular and they knew a kiss would make fans happy. A large part of the fandom is very happy with the fan service they received in this season and now they are, predictably, running wild with it. Timebomb has become even more popular than it already was and most of the content is very sweet in nature. I'm glad that shippers are fed and enjoying themselves. However, I cannot look past how the adoration for the ship has made people turn a blind eye to what was established prior to season two. The Firelights are important to Ekko, and Jinx killed many of them over the span of several years. Jinx was born with mental illness and her illness impacted her everyday life. Ekko and Jinx seemingly have a complex history that needs to be unpacked before they can even ATTEMPT to be on good terms again. The last time we saw Ekko and Jinx in s1 they LITERALLY tried to kill each other! This is a relationship that deserves and NEEDS time to be understood.

As for Jinx's mental illness being downplayed? 100% true. In season one Jinx's mental health was vital to the story the writers were trying to tell. They didn't want Jinx to seem like a manic, Joker-type character. They wanted her to be someone the audience would simultaneously pity and fear. But in season two, the end goal was to have Jinx reconcile with Vi and be a hero. To the people behind season two, this wasn't possible without stripping Jinx of everything that made her a fan favorite. Season one was all about rejecting the past and embracing who you truly are and what you've become. Jinx's final action in season one is sitting in the Jinx chair, proclaiming she has changed, and then nuking topside. But in season two, Jinx answers to the name Powder and says "Jinx is dead." In season two, Jinx becomes completely pacified and is no longer a murderous criminal who struggles with daily hallucinations. The erasure of her mental illness and identity has led fans to come to the conclusion that she was never really "that messed up" to begin with, all her problems were because of Silco and now that Silco's gone, she's better. This view is incorrect because we see Jinx have meltdown before she even meets Silco AND arguably Jinx reverting back to Powder isn't inherently a good thing. Powder isn't inherently the "better" version of Jinx. The fact that she even reverts at all goes completely against the message of season one and Silco's dying words, "Don't cry. You're perfect."

[squarebracketsmileyface]

i have this headcanon i adore where jay and alex were hanging out in college at jay and alex’s apartment and brian comes over to visit. one thing leads to another and alex is sitting in the kitchen while brian pierces his ear because this guy wanted his ears pierced. it doesn’t hurt but it’s the sort of shock more than anything (and blood) that sorta makes him cry? it’s not a bad cry just a sort of in shock cry that jay eventually talks him through, and afterward alex really does like the piercings. i have ideas on what follows but i shan’t say for now. but it’s a hc i really enjoy, the intimacy in something not quite intimate but you’re doing because you adore your friend/partner thing. plus i love giving them fun college experiences.

Omg yes.

I just. I love needleplay. It's so fucking pretty. And making it permanent rather than being play piercings they have to take out right after? Even better. God Alex would look so pretty. I think he'd have to sit in his hands so he doesn't panic last second and grab Brian's wrist to stop him, because he does want his ears pierced, his lip pierced, his nose pierced, his eyebrow pierced, but he's always been bad with pain, or things he thinks will hurt. So even though he's actually surprised by how little it hurts, just a really really sharp pressure while the needles actively piercing through his flesh and then literally no pain at all after it's no longer breaking his skin, his body just acts on instinct to stop whatever is gonna cause him pain. They only manage to pierce his ears the first time they do it, tho it takes like four false starts, and for the fifth try Alex sits on his hands so Brian can do it.

Brian cuddles the shit out of him afterwards, like, so much. The whole thing gets Alex so floaty so fast, and they knew it was going to happen, but they didn't realise just how fast he'd go down with the shock of the pain. Like getting both piercings actually done takes less than a minute, Brian's good at this by now, he's done so many of his friends and his own piercings, but they spend like a solid half and hour afterwards just cuddling and Brian telling Alex how amazing he was, how well he sat still even though he wanted to squirm away. He's so fucking soft with it. They're not even dating or anything, it's just a good ol' helping of platonic kink, y'know?

Like, if it was Jay getting pierced, Brian would kiss him and probably fuck him afterwards, just cos, but this is Alex, so they just cuddle and eat snacks and watch a movie together and it's fucking amazing and they love each other so much. And when Jay gets back in from somewhere (idk lectures or something shit) he just joins the pile on the sofa and is like "omg omg show me show me" and Alex lifts his hair up so he can see the piercings, and he cooes about how good they look on Alex, asks if he'd do it again and grins when Alex nods and is like "yeah honestly I'm already thinking about getting my lips pierced now."

And Brian's fucking beaming, he's like "well, you know where to come when you wanna do that" and the three of them just spend the rest of the day together.

I do like the idea of Brilex having a totally platonic kink relationship. Like, they never kiss, they don't fuck or get off during the sessions, just have fun with pretty rope, or piercings like this, or wax or literally whatever, y'know? Stuff like that.

God I love the idea of if they lived in the same house or whatever, Brian helping Alex care for his piercings, helping him put saline on them every morning and night and stuff like that, just tenderly holding Alex's chin and tilting his head, tucking his hair carefully behind his ear to keep it out of the way while he swabs a bit of saline over the piercings, praising Alex for how well they're healing, how well he's taking care of them.

OMG QUEERPLATONIC BRILEX, they're not romantic, and they don't kiss or fuck or anything, but they're definitely something other than 'just friends' y'know? Oh they'd be so cute. Bray dating and fucking, then in the morning coming downstairs to hug Alex and have breakfast with him, a big ol' poly QPR :D

[1794]

every single time my grandmother talks to me she's like so are you and Saifey making any friends? going out? :))) and every single time I tell her that I do not want friends in any capacity and provide some anecdote that describes why I don't want friends. and she's like oh sure I understand that. and then next time it's like so have you and Saifey been meeting new people? :)))

[prismaticsaltedink]

Scoria and Sakura are best friends! It's so cute when I see the things they do together, and it makes me so beyond happy that they both came to live with me so that they could share their lives with each other. They absolutely insist on it, and does so much good for the other.

I can't imagine how else they could have found happiness if things hadn't worked out exactly as they did. Scoria has basically been Sakura's "emotional support snake" while she worked through things from her past I'll never fully know that caused her a lot of issues with panic and fear. Sakura knows this too, and looks out for her sister, the only one she truly trusts and feels completely safe with.

The moment they wake up they both want each other to snuggle and play with. Scoria loves to be affectionate with both me and her sister who seems to have not had this earlier in her life- but Scoria is showing her how nice it is not only directly but demonstrating with me and Sakura also trying, copying what she has seen her sister do.

Sometimes when one goes to check on the other they'll join in on... I'm not even sure what they were doing. But they had a good time while taking a mandated union break from digging tunnels for the isopods.

So happy I get to share in the adventures of these two best friends! It makes me so happy to see them living their best lives together, and being beyond content snuggled together with their found family.

[coern-art-very-cool-and-nice]

encore nnks