#and loving it for the brief amount of time they have it

[whatiswrongwithpeople]

Unspoken Understandings

part 2 to “Shattered Silence” (Jayce Talis x reader)

Part 1

Summary: After that fateful night in the lab both ,Jayce and you, have been unsure how to address the sudden shift in your dynamic. However, sometimes all it takes is a certain yordle to force Jayce to take a break from his work and leave the lab.

Warnings: none, no spoilers for s2, no canon plot, a good amount of domestic fluff

Notes: I am really REALLY surprised about how much love “Shattered Silence” has received and hope that you enjoy this follow up just as much. <3 Once again , this has been written in my notes app, I hope I didn’t miss any mistakes.

Tags🏷️ @a-queen-blr @anxious-doodler @brabuscoffwe

The days after the break-in were a blur of frantic packing and moving. You had to find a new place fast—nothing too fancy, just something safe, something that could hold your things and the remaining bits of your research. But the weight of it all pressed down on you, your muscles aching from days spent running between your old and new apartment. You didn’t have the luxury of time to process what had happened the night you stormed into the lab, or even think much about him.

But the nights…

The nights were when you couldn’t stop thinking about how, despite everything, Jayce had held you. How, for a brief moment, you had leaned into him without fear of rejection. You’d allowed yourself to feel vulnerable, and he hadn’t pushed you away.

Now, you found yourself trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in your chest every time you thought about him, but the silence between you both felt suffocating.

Meanwhile, Jayce had buried himself in his work. The breakthrough he’d been chasing for months was nearly within reach, and that goal, that obsession, kept him up at night. But even as his mind raced with equations and possibilities, something nagged at him—a thought that he couldn’t shake, no matter how hard he tried.

It had started that night when you had collapsed into his arms, your trembling form clinging onto him like a lifeline. The way your body had felt in his embrace, how you had allowed him to hold and comfort you… something about it just felt right. And the days since? It was almost like he couldn't think straight without you. Your presence had become something he couldn’t quite get out of his head. Every time he closed his eyes, your face would appear—raw, vulnerable, but somehow more real than anything else in his life.

But what exactly was that thing between you? Was it something real, or just the aftershock of an unexpected and stressful situation? Jayce couldn’t even bring himself to ask.

---

It was late when Heimerdinger found him pacing in the lab, his mind so tangled in equations that the pieces didn’t seem to fit anymore.

“You’re working too hard, Jayce.” Heimerdinger’s voice was calm, but there was a quiet insistence behind it. He hadn’t seen the young inventor so distracted in what felt like ages.

Jayce, who had been scribbling furiously on a piece of paper, didn’t even look up. “I’m close to figuring this out. I just need a few more adjustments,” he said, but his voice lacked the usual tone of conviction.

Heimerdinger tilted his head slightly, his sharp gaze studying the younger man. It didn’t take long for him to figure out the nature of the inventor’s problems. “You were always quick to tell me how distracting it was when you were around her. How you could hardly think clearly when she was near.” Heimerdinger spoke , a nonchalant tone covering up the intention behind his statement.

Jayce froze, his pen hovering mid-air. He couldn’t remember ever having said that, but since the incident the times of feeling annoyed by you felt so far away. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was true. That really had been how he’d felt around you, hadn’t it? You had always found a way of breaking through his concentration, making him second-guess his thoughts and decisions.

But now? He didn’t feel distracted anymore. The thought of you didn’t pull him away from his work—it was more like you were... quieting the noise in his mind. Every time he thought about you, his thoughts slowed, calmed. The gears in his brain didn’t spin at a hundred miles per hour anymore. They… rested.

Sighing, Jayce met Heimerdinger’s knowing gaze. "It’s not the same,” he said, his voice quieter now, unsure. “It’s... different.”

Heimerdinger gave him a pointed look, crossing his arms behind his back as he looked up at the young man. “You’ve been working non-stop for days, Jayce. Sometimes the best breakthroughs come when we step away from the work for a little while. You’re going to burn yourself out if you keep this up."

Jayce opened his mouth to argue, but Heimerdinger was already walking toward the door. “I’m forcing you out of here. Take a break. Go see her,” he said, an almost cheerful tone in his voice. And with that, he was gone.

Jayce sat in stunned silence for a moment, the yordle’s words hanging in the air. Go see her? If he was honest to himself, he hadn’t even thought about it. A part of his mind harbouring a feeling of anxiousness regarding the inevitable confrontation. But something in Heimerdinger’s voice made him hesitate. It was as if the older man had seen through all the layers of self-doubt Jayce had buried himself under.

With the scrape of his chair he stood up. He needed to get out of the lab. He needed to breathe. He needed to see you.

---

It wasn’t hard to find your new place. Jayce had always been able to track down anything and anyone, with ease—Piltover wasn’t exactly a large city after all.

But as he stood outside your new apartment, his stomach churned. The weight of everything he had avoided saying hung over him like a dark storm cloud. He had no idea how this would play out—what could he even say? That he hadn’t been able to think straight since the night you’d come to him? That he’d wanted to be there for you, but had no clue how to navigate what had happened between you both?

But before he could completely lose his nerve, the door to the apartment opened, and you appeared.

You looked… tired. Your hair was pulled back in a messy up-do, and your shirt was slightly wrinkled, but there was something comforting about the chaos surrounding you. Not wanting to stare , his golden eyes quickly drifting to the space behind you. It was clearly your place now, your sanctuary, but it was still a work in progress.

You saw him before he could even open his mouth to say anything, and a flicker of surprise crossed your face. “Jayce? What are you—”

“I—uh, I came to check on you,” he said, running a hand through his hair, suddenly awkward. His nervous gaze switching back and forth between you and the wood on your door. “See how you’re doing… with the new place and everything.”

You raised an eyebrow but stepped aside, allowing him to enter. “Well,” you said with a tired half-smile, “it’s been a lot of work. Still don’t know where half my things are.”

Jayce chuckled as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. His mind reeling at how your presence suddenly made him feel less anxious, like he didn’t have to carry his burdens anymore . Not here, not now.

You motioned toward a pile of boxes in the corner of the living room, your smile sheepish, almost apologetic. “You wouldn’t happen to be good at putting together furniture, would you?”

Without a second thought, Jayce was moving toward the pile, rolling up his sleeves with a quiet determination. “I can manage,” he said with a grin, glancing back at you. “But only if you promise not to laugh at my attempts.”

You smirked, feeling a flicker of warmth in your chest. “No promises,” you teased, but there was a lightness in your voice now where tiredness had been before.

For the next few hours, the two of you worked side by side, not really talking, but filling the space between you with easy silence. There was something almost intimate in the simplicity of it—a shared task, each moment feeling like it stitched something new into the fabric of your newfound connection. The screech of a screwdriver, the soft clink of metal against wood, and the occasional, shared chuckle when one of you fumbled—it was like you were building something together, but not just the furniture. It was this. Whatever it was that had started to grow between you.

You worked in rhythm, so comfortable with him that it didn’t even feel strange. You caught yourself looking up at him a few times, watching the way he moved, how the muscles in his arms flexed when assembling the pieces and silently admiring the way the light caught the lines of his face. Jayce wasn’t just the scientist, the bold, sometimes aloof figure you'd known—here, in this space, he felt… real. Vulnerable, even. The arrogant mask you had become so accustomed to had slipped away, leaving only the person beneath. And for the first time, you saw him as someone who was just as human as you.

When the last piece of furniture was assembled, both of you collapsed onto the couch. The apartment was still a mess, but somehow, it felt more like home now. After hours of unpacking, moving boxes, and trying to make sense of the chaos, you and Jayce had both reached a kind of quiet, shared exhaustion. There was something about the way the late afternoon light filtered through the windows—golden and warm—that made everything feel a little less overwhelming.

Jayce was beside you on the couch, leaning back against the cushions with his sleeves still rolled up, hair unkempt and his face still a little flushed from the work. Normally, by now you’d be bickering with each other, exchanging sarcastic remarks til one of you would have enough and storm out of the room. But ever since your distraught form had stormed into his lab, that usual dynamic was missing. The crackling back-and-forth had faded into something quieter, something more... honest.

“So, this is it, huh?” you said, glancing around the room. It was a mix of completed and incomplete, a snapshot of a new beginning. “Still a long way to go, but... it’s getting there.”

Jayce surveyed the room, his gaze lingering on the boxes and the half-finished furniture scattered around. “It’s... definitely not what I expected,” he said, his lips twitching into a smile. “You still got a ton of stuff for someone who has been robbed.” You laughed lightly, but it wasn’t a tense laugh like it would have been just a few days ago. It was more... genuine.

The silence stretched a little longer, and you found yourself thinking about how easily you used to hide behind the jabs and insults. You had both spent so much time pretending—pretending that you couldn’t stand each other, pretending like there was nothing more beneath the surface. But nevertheless, despite years of constant back and forth, Jayce had been the one your heart had led you to when your mind was in a state of absolute panic.

“You know, I’ve spent a lot of time pretending,” you said softly, looking at him from the corner of your eye. “Pretending like we couldn’t get along, pretending like I didn’t... care.”

Jayce’s eyes flicked over to you, something unreadable in his gaze. For a moment, he didn’t respond, allowing the truth to settle between you.

“I think I was pretending, too,” he said finally, his voice low and honest. “Pretending I didn’t want... this.” He gestured loosely between you two, his hand hovering in the air, as if the words were more difficult to articulate than the feelings behind them.

There it was. That truth you had both danced around for so long. And now, it didn’t feel awkward. It felt like a breath you both had been holding ever since Jayce had comforted you that fateful night, waiting for the right moment to exhale.

You turned toward him, your body instinctively moving closer. You didn’t have to think about it. The space between you was just too small now, too important to leave empty. As if by reflex, your hand reached out, softly brushing his arm, letting your fingers rest gently against his. The touch was tentative at first but you felt him respond instantly—his hand turning slightly, his fingers seeking yours, meeting you halfway.

It was subtle, a small connection that sent a rush of warmth through you. Neither of you said anything. The words didn’t feel necessary anymore. Jayce shifted a little, his knee brushing against yours, his hand gently drawing you closer. He wasn’t in a rush. You weren’t either. But as the space between you closed even more, something shifted, and you both knew the moment was right.

Jayce’s thumb traced along the back of your hand, his touch light but deliberate. Slowly, he turned toward you, his body leaning in, and you could feel his breath on your lips before his mouth even touched yours. It wasn’t a desperate move, but one full of quiet intent, like this was something that had been building between you for far too long.

His lips met yours gently at first—just a soft brush, testing, as though waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t. Neither of you did. The kiss deepened, slowly, naturally. His hand moved to your jaw, tilting your head slightly as his other hand slid around your waist, his electric touch finding its way underneath your shirt, pulling you closer. The warmth of his body against yours felt so right, so easy, just like it had back in the lab when he had shielded you from your troubles, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You melted into him. There was no rush, no hesitation now. Just the soft pressure of his lips on yours, the tender way his hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if memorizing the feel of of your skin underneath his fingertips.

When you pulled back, there was no immediate rush to fill the space with words. The air between you felt charged, but in a quiet, intimate way. You both breathed deeply, your lips tingling from the kiss, your pulse still racing a marathon in your chest.

Jayce’s hand lingered on your waist, his thumb absently tracing circles on your skin. “Guess we don’t have to pretend to not like each other anymore,” he murmured, his voice hushed, almost unsure, like the weight of everything was finally settling in. You shook your head slightly, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips as your hand found his again. “No. I guess not.”

Jayce leaned back into the couch, his body angled closer to yours now. His eyes twinkled with that familiar teasing glint, but there was something new in the way he looked at you. Something lighter. “So, dinner? I think I’ve earned it.”

You chuckled, your fingers still intertwined with his as you stood. “You’ve already helped me move half my furniture, Jayce. You’re definitely sticking around.”

He flashed you a relaxed grin, leaning back against the couch with a satisfied sigh. “Guess I don’t have a choice.”

Letting go of his hand, you turned toward the kitchen, starting to gather ingredients, and Jayce followed you, leaning in just enough to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Need any help?”

You glanced at him with a smile. “Unless you’ve got a Hextech gadget to chop vegetables, I’ve got it under control.”

Jayce chuckled and stepped back, settling in at the table as you started to prepare a meal. There was something comforting in his quiet presence, in the easy rhythm of the evening. You moved around each other effortlessly, the space between you filled with warmth rather than words.

Soon enough, you set the table and sat down together, the simple meal feeling more like a shared moment than just food. Jayce took a bite, then raised an eyebrow in approval. “I’m impressed. Didn’t expect you to be this good at it.”

You laughed, your fingers brushing his as you reached for your drink. “I’m full of surprises.” He smiled at that, his eyes lingering on your face , as if trying to capture the moment.

After dinner, you started to clear the table and do the dishes when Jayce moved to help. You smiled and gently took the dish towel from his hands. “I’ve got this,” you said softly. He gave you a mock pout in return. “I was just getting into it.” Looking up at him, you smiled fondly at his behaviour. “You’ve done enough for today.”

Jayce stepped closer, golden eyes soft as his hand reached out for the towel again. “I don’t mind,” he murmured, his warmth filling the tiny space of your kitchen and wrapping around you like a safety blanket.

“Thanks,” you whispered, cheeks burning with a soft blush as you suddenly felt the quiet comfort of his presence in a way that made everything else feel far away.

Jayce leaned in to brush a kiss against your forehead, light but sincere. “Anytime.”

And just like that, everything felt perfectly in place.

[videokilled]

Vox’s face gave a brief twitch of glitching annoyance when he was outright ignored. (Missing the irony.)

But knowing his mood was sliding south fast, he could just use the other bathroom for now. And he was too crabby to pester the other about it anyway. He knew a fight when he smelled it.

The sudden attitude from the other was entirely baffling- they had been cuddling not 5 minutes ago.

Mustering the scraps of self control that he had, he just exhaled and turned away and moved out of the room.

Why did this always seem to happen right as he ordered food. Why did they have such a habit of NOT eating the expensive food he ordered in.

Vox’s stomach growled. Nothing could keep him from this breakfast this time. He was hangry.

He spent the next 20 minutes or so taking a shower in the guest bathroom, then doing all his amounts of self care and morning routine that he could from being not in his tower.

Showering, using his scrub that he loved, screen cleaning, OLED maintenance, buffing out any dings in his claws, and of course trying to pull the one antenna straight- to which it stayed for all of three seconds- before flicking back down to its kinked inward shape.

Pulling on them made his eyes water, and he didn’t like to overthink how that worked.

Regardless, when the door was knocked on to signal the food being dropped off, Vox walked out fully dressed in his usual suit. Also seeming in a million times better of a mood. (Appeasing his powder deficiencies,) And with a cigarette in the corner of his mouth.

He fiddled with his cufflinks as he went to the door and retrieved the food.

“The food is here.” He called, but if there was no immediate sign of Alastor, he would wander on over like a lost pup till he could set eyes on the other.

Vox say there upright unmoving for several more moments. Then finally seemed to have a conscious thought. He needed his phone to order food.

Feeling around in doomed vain the bed for his phone. He wouldn’t find it, he hadn’t even brought it into the room with him when they fell asleep. Having been pulled from his own darkness.

He stilled slowly after a moment. Tension growing just slightly as if he were holding back a little tantrum. Then he finally just scooted to the side, and pushed himself off the bed to shuffle out of the room. A bit stiff and clumsy. Still not totally conscious. His sleep pants were a bit twisted and rumpled. And his shirt had disappeared in the nice. Something that happened often when he got hot.

He picked up his phone from somewhere in the other room and presumably distressed immediately by the amount of missed calls immediately, a rather thin quiet groan was pulled from him.

Vox did very slowly shuffle back though. Tapping into his phone to call presumably Valentino back.

Then handed the phone to Alastor with the app open to pick what he wanted to eat.

The call still active on the top bar of the phone, but no call audio.

“What.”

“Morning.”

“What did you call me for.”

“That’s what you called me for? You called me 17 times.”

“I’m not going to be there today.” He said with some palpable tension creeping into his voice.

…

“Just do what we spelled out- …Please just do what we spelled out.”

“I said please you masochistic fuck.”

Vox was scrubbing at his closed eyes with his palms, just standing there. The distress in his voice might not have been obvious to most except definitely Valentino and maybe Alastor. It was subtle. But the words he was saying not so much.

“No- I did hear you. I did listen. I don’t care. Valentino.” Vox’s voice snarled abruptly, hands still on his face.

“I’m texting Velvet.”

That must have gotten a reaction from the other party because Vox rolled his eyes and threw his head back, his arms throwing out wide.

“Too late. Bye.”

Vox ended the call and pulled a cigar out of the box near his dresser. The lit end immediately glowing bright orange as he pulled air from it, and started pacing again. Not nearly as panicked as earlier but not relaxed.

“Did you pick?” Vox said to Alastor finally.

[virtualvault]

Finish What I Started

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara  x f!reader

Summary: After being called away while he's between your thighs, Miguel comes back to finish what he started.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+ ONLY, brief angst, oral(f receiving), fingering, brief somno, kissing, dirty talk, pet names( baby, good girl), kissing, unprotected p in v, creampie. Let me know if I missed anything

WC: 2.3k

A/N: I know reader starts off sad but don't worry, Miguel fixes it with his dick lol I was determined to make Miguel his regular dirty self, but spice it up with a bit of angst. Also, no explicit consent for somno given by reader beforehand, but I wrote it as if there is general consent within the relationship to do so. As always, feedback is encouraged and appreciated!!

For the past few months Miguel has been gone more than usual. He's home a few days then called away again and it's starting to weigh on you. He's just returned from a week away and he's finally back. He was taking care of some 'business', which he of course doesn't tell you anything about. You know it's for your own good, but sometimes it would be nice for him to open up a bit about his work. At least vent to you. You know he's under an extreme amount of stress and it would do him some good to open up about it.

But of course, he tells you he doesn't want to burden you, even though you've told him a thousand times that it wouldn't. He does have his own way of communicating, though. It's just usually through actions instead of words. Like when he holds you close and locks you into a needy kiss and you can feel the desperation and all his pent-up emotion. It lets you know he's back where he wants to be. Home with you.

Which is where you are right now. He kisses down your stomach, taking his time not only to savor you, but show you how much he's missed you. He makes it to your folds and places a few light kisses there before diving in. You let out a long sigh, reveling in the feeling you haven't gotten to indulge in for what feels like forever. He never fails to take your breath away, though. The way his tongue glides against you and prods at your entrance. You wrap your fingers in his hair, lightly dragging your fingers across his scalp and he leans closer into you, and he groans.

His hand comes up to join his mouth, and just before he can push a finger in, you hear it. That dreaded sound. A high-pitched ring accompanied by a buzz, letting you know he has to leaves you. Again. You try to put things into perspective any time he gets called away and try to find the restraint to not get on your knees and beg him not to go. You know he helps people, and he puts his life on the line for the greater good, but you can't help the sadness that blooms in your chest each time.

He doesn't say anything, just pulls his mouth from you and rests his head on your thigh, letting out an exasperated sigh. A pathetic whine falls from you lips in return. You cradle his head in your hands and hold it against you, silently pleading with him to stay. He gently pries your hands off and kisses each wrist before sitting up and tapping his watch, answering the distress call. He shares a few quick, and quiet, words with someone before leaning back down to you.

"Baby-" he starts. "I know," you respond, sounding dejected, and he looks back at you apologetically. He knows he asks a lot of you. You live your life around his work and are always left waiting for him to return. The unpredictability and the time away are a lot to deal with. You do it happily because you love him, but he knows it takes a toll on you. It takes a toll on him too, and he finds it harder and harder to leave you every time.

 He kisses your forehead and lifts your chin to meet his eyes. "I'll be back as soon as I can. I promise." He pulls you in for a kiss, then makes his way to the door.

You hear it close and are immediately overwhelmed by the emptiness. It's dark and the silence is deafening. You look over to his side of the bed and pull his pillow into your arms. Usually, you'd at least give yourself a pitiful orgasm to let out a little of the sexual frustration he left you with alongside the emotional, but you don't have it in you. You roll over and hold the pillow close. You can smell him on it and the comforting scent lulls you to sleep.

Miguel returns in the dead of night, and he shuts the door softly behind himself to avoid waking you. He was only gone a few hours, which is something of a rare occurrence. Turns out he just had to assist in a little damage control and then he was racing back home to you. Part of him was hoping you'd still be awake, but he knows that'd be unfair to expect of you. It breaks his heart to think of you curled up in bed, sad and alone, waiting up for him.

He walks into the bedroom, and he's met with a wonderful sight. There is a feeling burning hot within him at the sight of your exposed backside. He ripped the pleasure from you upon his departure and is determined to give you what you deserve. He wants to express how grateful he is that you stay by his side, giving so much to him and the relationship. That you are the most important thing to him and that he cherishes you above all else. These are things he makes an effort to tell you all the time, but right now he wants to show you.

You wake up to a pulsing heat in your core. You're on your stomach, one leg hiked up, and Miguel's pillow still held against you. Your eyes flutter open, and you attempt to roll over, but two pairs of hands hold you in place.  You let out a soft moan and you shake your head, clearing the last bit of haze as you become fully conscious. That's when you feel it. Miguel's tongue firmly, yet slowly, rolling against your exposed nub.

"Miguel?" There's a slight drowsiness to your voice. It doesn’t last long as you exclaim his name at full volume when he slips a finger inside you. "I'm here, baby." He lifts his head long enough to offer you the reassurance and flip you over, then he resumes his position between your thighs. He slips two fingers in this time. You gasp and you grab the pillow beneath your head.

"You're home," you pant out and he chuckles. "Yes. I am. There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

He brings his thumb up to your clit while he speaks to you and rubs in slow, teasing circles. "I left you all desperate for me. That wasn't very nice, was it?" He asks and you quickly shake your head 'no' as you tilt your hips up and start grinding your hips in time with his movements. "Did you touch yourself when I left?"

Again, you shake your head and let out a ragged "No," and he cocks his eyebrow. "Why not?" He asks. You don't answer as he starts moving his fingers faster and biting across the flesh of your thighs. "I bought you that wonderful little toy to keep you company when I'm away." You blush as you think about the vibrator sitting in your nightstand. It was a very thoughtful gift, and you do get a lot of use out of it, but there's no substitution for the real thing.

 "It's not the same," you moan. He lets out a pleased hum at your answer. "I want your fingers…your mouth… your cock." Your last word is punctuated by a whine as he probes deeper inside you. He groans and you see him grind his hips into the mattress. "Well, I'm happy to give it all to you, baby." He places his tongue back on your clit and before you know it, you're cumming around his fingers.

"That's it, good girl. God fucking girl," he praises, admiring the way your arousal gushes out of you and down his hand. When he slips them out of you, you pull his fingers up and into your mouth. His breath hitches as your tongue slides along each digit. When he looks up at you, you can see the desire dancing in his eyes. His kisses up your stomach, across your breast, and up your neck until his face is hovering over yours.

"That's two out of three. You gonna give me your cock?" You speak in a teasing tone, but you're dying to feel him inside you.

He chuckles. "Happily."

He sheds his clothes and settles between your thighs. "How do you want it, sweetheart? On your back? Stomach?" He asks, wanting to give it to you exactly how you want it. "Um…" you take a second to think and realize what you really want. "I want to feel your arms around me while you fuck me," you respond, looking up at him through your lashes. He nods and moves your body into position. He puts his arms under you and flips the both of you over. He plants his feet onto the mattress and wraps his arm around your waist, using it to move slide you up and down his length, effectively coating him in your slick. The friction feels wonderful, and you gasp when his tip catches on your clit.

 Once he feels he's properly lubricated, he slowly guides himself inside you. You both breath out a sigh of relief at the feeling you've both been waiting so long for. He's got one arm around your waist while the other goes to cradle the back of your head and he pulls you into a heated kiss. Your shared longing and need are apparent in your movements. You slide your tongues over each other's messily and only pull apart when you become desperate for air. Then, urgent with need, you begin grinding yourself down on to him, earning a throaty moan from the man below you.

"I've made you wait long enough, haven't I?" You nod and nip at his lower lip. "Please, Miguel. I need it so bad."

He starts slow, stretching you out deliciously and you melt around him. You drop your head to his shoulder and nuzzle into his neck as he picks up the pace. His deep, steady strokes cause pleasure to ripple over your body. You can hear his ragged breathing and the noise of your skin slapping together and it adds to the warmth building in your belly. You begin placing sloppy kisses on his neck and nipping at the flesh. That always drives him crazy, and he holds you tighter against him. He grips the back of your neck and starts pulling you down to meet his thrusts.

"Oh, god baby, you're gripping me so tight," he groans, speaking against the crown of your head. He breathes in deeply, relishing in your scent. You whine into his shoulder as you feel him fucking you at just the right angle. Pleasure pulses through your veins and you can tell you're close. So can he.

"Let go, baby. Make a mess on my cock. Wanna feel you squeeze me." You keen at his words as they vibrate against you, and it has you tumbling over the edge. He grits his teeth as your walls quiver around him and you babble out thank-yous and sweet nothings while you ride out your high.

Before you can fully come down, he rolls you over and before you know it, he's rutting into you again. He pushes your legs up by the back of your thighs and admires the way his shaft disappears inside you. "You take it so well. This pussy was made for me, wasn't it?" He brings his thumb down to circle your clit and you writhe under him.

"C'mon, say it." he brings his other hand to the back of your head and angles so you're looking at him.

"This pussy was made for you. I was made for you" you say, raggedly. He moans at your confession before wrapping his arms around you once more. You're completely enveloped by him now. By his body, his scent, and his sounds. It overwhelms your senses int the best way and you can tell you're about to succumb to the pleasure again. You wrap your arms around his shoulder, holding him to you, and run a hand through his hair. You give it a tug each time he hits that soft spot inside you and he groans at the feeling.

You gasp with each measured thrust, although they're getting sloppier, and you can tell he's close too. You'd love to cum with him, so you contract around him again and again. Now he's the one whining into your shoulder.

"I'm never leaving again. I wanna stay buried inside this pussy forever," he admits, breathily. He voice is barely above a whisper, and you think he's saying that not only to you but himself as well. You know he will inevitably leave again, but he speaks with such passion. So, you both let yourselves believe, even for just this moment, that it's true. When the words leave his mouth, you allow yourself to let go.

You arch your back and drag your nails across his skin as you let the ecstasy wash over you. It pushes him to his own release, and he presses his lips to your forehead, and you feel him twitch inside you. You pulse around him, and he stills as he spills himself inside you with a strangled moan.

He pulls away and cradles your face, looking deep into your eyes. "I know I'll have to leave again, but I will always come back to you. Always." He vows.

"And I'll always be here when you do. Always," you reply, then seal your promise with a kiss.

[ephemeral-phosphorescence]

The total Total Trauma Review:

AN OPEN APOLOGY TO WYATT AND JUDE SHEPARD @totaltrauma: THE TOTAL TRAUMA V1 REVIEW. 

Dear Wyatt Shepard. 

Sorry. 

About a year ago, I won the Total Trauma Fanart contest, and as a prize, I received a free copy of Total Trauma V1 and a matching set of tarot cards, sent directly to my house in Australia. This endeavour, which represented an untold amount of time and effort given to the making of both of these items, as well as the costs of printing and shipping, I have rather unfavourably received with total radio silence.

 I did receive this beautiful gift. I squealed over it when it arrived, laid out the cards and looked over them, read the volume multiple times. Did I send a thank-you note, or a nice comment, or even a dm acknowledging that the item had been received? No. To be fair, there was a lot going on at the time and a lot has gone on since. But, honestly not really enough to justify not reaching out with gratitude for the lovely, lovely gifts I received. And to that end I am deeply sorry. I hope that my disgraceful actions have not impacted your creative work or ego to any degree. 

In order to make up for this lapse in judgement I now intend to make you aware of every lovely thing I have to say about Total Trauma V1, compounded into an easy-to-read if lengthy review of the book. This has been in no small part inspired by Switch1e’s Comprehensive Roast series on Youtube and by my desire to see such a piece dedicated to Total Trauma. 

Wyatt and Jude, you may not have the time to read such a piece. Your considerable and formidable creative endeavours astound me, with both their quality, diversity and quantity. I’m really looking forward to reading Jude’s book when it debuts.

 I’m sure you have many many compliments to read in a day, and have to hire a stoic butler to mail the important ones to you. I’ll be brief in this opening so you can know that this scumbag received your book, absolutely loved it and am very thankful that you put the time into creating it and sending it to your little fan in Australia. 

Much love. 

Peggy.

READ THE FULL REVIEW ON GOOGLE DRIVE

[magicalgirlsandcerulean]

There's a campaign for a signed iroshiki from Masuda.

There's a moving Yumoto chibi for Love Macho.

Here's the cover for Eikyuu Fuhen Love is Life. It will be sold on Jan. 22nd 2025. If you buy it from Canime, you'll get a reproduction of the cast's signatures (22 voice actors in total). Yamazo gets most of it, but wonders what's up with Goura being naked and having an axe...

That purple creature in the movie trailer? That's Aye-aye, voiced by Kappei Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi made a comment:

This is my first time appearing in Binan Koukou Chikyuu Boueibu! What, boys transform using magical-girl-like transformations and protect the earth? Then I was invited for a monkey-like role? When I was waiting for what kind of story this was, it seemed this wasn't just "monkey-like", it really was a monkey-----LOL [1].

Aye-aye, whose eye~s are rou~~~nd. He's [2] not only cute, but he also has a certain amount of mystery. I was always with Wombat (Mugihito), so I was happy. Also, during the dubbing, I had fun portraying the character by going "Try doing it like this", "Try doing it like that".

Then, this time is ETERNAL LOVE! Look forward to eternal love from everyone! [3]

[T/N 1: According to some brief research, aye-ayes are primates like monkeys, but are distinct from them.]

[T/N 2: Remember, there are no girls in Boueibu.]

[T/N 3: Yamaguchi uses English for the all-caps instance of "eternal love" and then kanji, causing a double-up in the translation.]

There is also a comment from the voice actor of Deathamor (romanisation copied from here and yet to be confirmed), Jurota Kosugi:

My first thought was when I graduated high school half a century ago [4], I couldn't even apply to this school, no matter how much I wished. Since it's Binan, there is nothing that can be done about it. This time, I was flung into a role with that annoyance and futility. Everyone, please look forward to it to your heart's content.

[T/N 4: See Kosugi's Anime News Network page here.]

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

https://www.usmagazine.com/celebrity-news/news/how-king-charles-prince-williams-dynamic-has-shifted-amid-power-struggle/

I was trying to parse the origins of this story and thought it could have been dropped by a few interested parties until I got to the bit about a purported Camilla “Kate” rivalry. To me there’s really only one individual who would push that angle. Looking at the article through that lens it then appears to be a ploy to push on all of the King’s well known trigger points.

Any thoughts? Perhaps I need to go touch grass…

Let's break it down.

Source #1:

"The dynamics have shifted."

"[William's ascension] is a sensitive topic, and there's occasional tension. (William is likely being briefed on things like constitutional matters, government relations and state affairs, as well as transitioning titles and responsibilities.) The royal household is refining protocols and communications strategies for a smooth transition."

"Modern times call for a modern monarchy and William has been active in getting that together."

Charles "doesn't feel sidelined" and is "more proud than anything" but he "does feel the public anticipation for William's future role."

Camilla wants Charles to hold on to the reigns for as long as possible. "She loves her responsibilities. Her whole life, she has always wanted to be queen so she doesn't want to let it go so fast."

"[Camilla and Kate] have always had a tense relationship" and Camilla is particularly hesitant to pass on her duties to Kate.

Prince Andrew "has no intention" of leaving his home at Royal Lodge.

"His older age is getting to him, and he's not snapping back as quickly as Catherine did. For the most part, Charles is doing well. But there are still some concerns and he knows his reign will be up soon."

Kate is "realistic and supportive of William's future."

Source #2:

Charles has wanted to be the monarch for decades. Even though he's battling cancer, he's not letting that get in the way of his desire to be successful on the throne or a dynamic leader. [William] is preparing behind the scenes for when his ascension happens. Like his father, he takes being a success in the royal role very seriously."

"The currency featuring Charles is not even in circulation yet. He knows he has to be dynamic in the time he has."

While Charles and William "are close," they are "rivals when it comes to work," noting that Charles's envy is "similar to how he felt about Diana."

"Charles is a workaholic and the amount of work he accomplished during his recent trip to Australia was unbelievable."

"[William] puts up clear boundaries. He wants the upbringing of his children to be different from his own."

"William is very stubborn and private. He keeps his movements and calendar away from Charles' team to such an extent that he won't listen to anyone or take guidance from [his father] or his team. He keeps things very locked down and separate."

Source #3:

"The Palace sprung into action. William and his team have agreed on what they will focus on at the start of his reign and funeral plans for his father. [Charles] does not feel comfortable speaking about it at length, so nothing more than is needed is brought up to him."

William is ready to bring "new, younger energy."

"William and Kate have been preparing for this for many years. They both feel comfortable stepping into greater roles - and [are confident] William can provide a modern way of ruling that everyone will see as a breath of fresh air."

Here are some clues for me:

Source #3 calls Kate 'Kate' and not Catherine - this is most likely someone not in the royal circle as everyone there usually calls Kate 'Catherine.'

All three sources uses the royals' Christian names with no titles, so they're not palace insiders because palace people - especially those authorized to speak officially - usually call them by their titles.

None of this is new information. We've known William (and Kate) will be modernizing to a quality-over-quantity strategy for many years now. We know that transition planning for William has already happened because they talked about it during Charles's ascension.

The "Charles has waited forever to be monarch" and "Camilla has always wanted to be queen" lines have never been narratives addressed or discussed by Clarence House because it goes against their own actual PR that Camilla never wanted, or intended, to be Queen.

Also the line about "Catherine bounced back quickly" isn't something from KP, as KP's stance is that this has been an incredibly harder, tougher, rougher time than William and Kate have expected. They wouldn't talk about how quickly Kate bounced back from her issues (unless they're talking about the initial condition, the stomach issues prompting the first surgical procedure) because all that does is pour fuel on the fire that a) Kate didn't really have chemo and b) Kate isn't actually as ill as she's said she was.

Plus, neither BP/CH nor KP has ever acknowledged any tension between Camilla and Kate. Definitely not officially and not anonymously, so this is someone on the outside parroting public commentary.

So on the whole, the article reads very much like a Clarence House puff piece - it mostly promotes Charles and Camilla at William and Kate's expenses, while also loosely endorsing William's future. But looking at the actual quotes from the three sources, I think it becomes pretty clear that 1) it's not a CH puff piece and 2) the sources aren't actually CH, KP, or palace insiders.

So where could this be coming from? The Yorkies. That's my guess.

Because Andrew is the only one, in the whole dang article, who is referred to by his title. They're close enough to CH and KP that they'd be at least aware of some of the dynamics behind the scenes to make the story sound real but they're also far enough away that they're not "in the know" and can only resort to popular criticisms of the four principal royals.

Edit: adding the link

Archived Link

[hello-sweetheart]

Fame and Fortune

Do you dream of glory? Crowds of thousands all adoring beneath you. The roaring cheers echoing in the arena. Countless of small white lights held up like beacons creating a sea of waving stars all for you. Breathless exhilaration has your chest heaving, skin glistening and damn. To feel like a god: never ending, eternal.

What would you be willing to do to get it?

What are you willing to sacrifice for fame?

Who are you prepared to lose?

Could the love of millions be worth the love of one?

——

[Backstage: Corroded Coffin Global Tour-Los Angeles, Ca]

Eddie is pacing, more than just pre-show nerves numb his hands. His cigarette burns quickly, ash falling on the carpeted floor, but no amount of nicotine filled lungs will fix this. Gareth, his drummer and long time friend, is watching him pace, eyes pleading.

“Is it worth it, Eddie?

We all got what we wanted; why are we miserable? You can’t lie to me, we all feel it. I see it in everyone, even you! You haven’t been the same since—“ He receives a withering glare from the frontman and sighs, speaking softer.

“I miss mom and my little sister. It’s been so long since I’ve seen them… I’m no longer drawn in her crayon family portraits, did you know that? Does Anne even remember me, anymore?

How can you keep going like this and expect us to do the same? I’m grateful—I really am—for you. You got us where we are now, a fantasy that we never even dreamed would become reality. It was amazing, I’m glad I got to experience it all with you, but I’m tired. I’m so tired guys.

I just want to go home.”

The long drag he takes burns his throat,

“Look, we’re all tired, I get it. Really, I do, this tour has been… particularly grueling I’ll admit, but come on. This is our last show, the big finale! We’ll give them all we got and then we’ll be able to take a break to freshen up before doing what we do best: creating kick ass music.

Like always. You’ll feel better after this, we always do after the last show—“

Gareth cuts him off, his patience clearly stretched thin.

“No, Eddie, listen to me! It’s different this time. I’m happy with the money we’ve made, we all have enough to live comfortably and I’ve been thinking that, you know, it’s time to settle down. I can’t do that if I’m always working. This, the band, it doesn’t… it doesn’t make me happy anymore.”

Jeff stands and his imposing figure makes Eddie pause from wearing a path into the floor.

“He’s not the only one, man. Im sorry, but its killing me. We don’t expect you to give it up either, you can keep the band name, find new members, keep signing… But for us? We can’t keep going, man. This is the end of the line.”

‘Not him too. Fuck. Fuck!’

“No! What am I—I’ve given up too much for this, you can’t just, fucking, bail on me!” This band, playing with his friends, it’s become his entire world. He’s lost too much to get here.

“Woah, woah, hey! No one fucking told you to and you know it. We’ve always had your back no matter what, but anything you chose to do is on you. Not us. The least you could do is extend us the same fucking curtesy and respect the fact that we’re fucking done with this bullshit.”

His gaze is venom as he looks at band, Grant and ‘Freak’ silent but agreeing with the rest. They refuse to meet his gaze.

“Fine. Do whatever you want.” He turns and leaves. They’ll be starting in 15 minutes.

Fucking cowards. Ungrateful bastards.

A memory plays in his head. Brief and intrusive. The voice of someone long gone from his life rings in his mind.

“I’ve missed you, Ed. Are you done at the studio, yet? When are you coming home?”

“Steve, this is important. You know this. I’ll be pulling a few more all nighters here—this album has to be perfect, baby.”

A crackling sigh is barely audible through the phone.

“I know, I know. I’m just being selfish. I’m sorry. Miss waking up to you next to me.”

“Miss you too, baby. You’re my world you know. Love you more than anything.”

“More than music?” It’s a timid question.

“Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he’s the only one to laugh into the receiver.

“Right… night, Eddie.”

“Wait, Stev—“ fuck. It was only joke. Whatever, he’ll apologize tomorrow.

Right now, he has music history in the making.

[kittybroker]

hey any music recommendations?

all of my own music. okay this is a disaster question to ask because I'm a big musichead and I listen to a lot of different music. I do listen to a lot of late romantic/early modern which I do really enjoy. I'll doa quick list of a few pieces and composers to check out to try keep it brief.

Mussorgsky/Ravel, Pictures from an Exhibition: Already a big fan of both composers here, this piece specifically however combines the rough late-romantic style of Mussorgsky with Ravel's phenomenal orchestration ability. The orchestra particularly is incredibly well arranged by Ravel and adds a huge amount of color to the original piano piece by Mussorgsky.

Samuel Barber; Adagio for Strings/Agnus dei, and Music for a Scene from Shelley: Both pieces by Barber are very nice. The Adagio for Strings/Agnus Dei is absolutely sublime and has an almost haunting effect and the Music for a Scene from Shelley is just generally quite nice.

Arvo Part, Tabula Rasa: I particularly love the first movement from this piece. I'm generally not the biggest fan of minimalism, or post-minimalism either but Part always strikes into an interesting boundary that I find particularly captivating with it.

Other composers that I enjoy and might be worth checking out are people like Prokofiev and Lili Boulanger who have a number of very nice pieces.

Guilty pleasure of mine is also Touhou music and Vocaloid at times so take of that what you will.

[giamee]

╭┄────────── 𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 ┆ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓! ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

featuring. gepard 〆 wc. 0.7k

art creds. mucithy on twt 〆 contains. allusions to injury/death, a big ole amount of comfort

gia's notes. going 2 for 2 with this new theme + my essay is now due in 4 hours teehee 🧘🏻‍♀️ i drank a STRONG coffee and my guts are gonna blow up i fear

��┄➤ ❝ request. anon 〆 hello! could i request gepard comforting his gf who had a nightmare, please? thank you! ❞

IT'S THE SOUND OF YOUR VOICE CALLING HIS NAME THAT ROUSES GEPARD, a melodic siren's song that pulls him from his depths of unconsciousness in the dead of night. he's groggy, sure, his brow furrowing and a complacent whine leaving his lips as he curls into you even further than he was before, but he's still responsive to your every beck and call.

"mm, what is it baby?" he mumbles into your skin, sleep-addled brain trailing soft kisses after his words. he doesn't hear any response from you, which was odd, odd enough to make him lift his head up from the crook of your neck to properly look at you. well, as best as he could in your dark bedroom.

your own eyes are shut, a slight sheen to your forehead, and for a lack of better words you looked troubled.

despite being unconscious, you seemed fairly lucid, twitching and frowning as you slept before stuttering out another call of your boyfriend's name.

and it's now that he blinks himself awake, realising a little too late for his liking that your sweet voice calling his name had a fearful edge to it, one that was shown in all of your actuons as you shook your head vehemently.

and gepard's torn now, distressed and wide awake at the sight of your discomfort, but not sure if you would want him to shake you awake- but with another pained cry of his name his heart tugs at him and his rough fingers are brushing against the skin of your shoulder as gently as he can as he begs you to wake up just above a trembling whisper.

it takes him a few times to get you to come to your senses, but when your eyes finally open to see the concern in his crystalline ones and his concerned face hovering over you, you can only let out a strangled sob and throw yourself into his chest.

he immediately wraps his arms around you, strong and warm and solid against you as your tears run hot against your face, dripping into his shirt that you'll have to apologise for later. you vaguely recognise his hands stroking over your hair, his hushed reassurances that everything's okay and that it was just a dream.

you don't know how long it takes for you to calm down, but when your muffled sobs finally become a staccato sniffle, only then does gepard ask you "do you want to talk about it?" there's a brief recount in your head of all the awful things your subconscious had presented you with, of gepard, your lover, the captain of the silvermane guards, having to fight a most fearsome foe in front of you and become overpowered before he-

you shake your head to rid yourself of the gruesome thought, burrowing impossibly closer into your boyfriend's chest. he reciprocates your actions, curling himself around you further, letting your legs slip between his. he presses kisses to your hairline, cooing again about how much he loves you and that he's here and you're safe.

"it just all felt so real," you finally manage to croak out. "i could see you and- it all happened so fast and i couldn't do anything and it-" a hiccupy sob interrupted you, and gepard didn't speak, merely clutching you to his body even tighter than possible, almost protectively.

"hey, i'm right here darling. and i promise that i don't die so easily. have some faith in me, i'm not exactly weak." you smile despite yourself, nodding against him slowly, feeling a puff of air escape him at your ginger acceptance of hos attempt to lighten the mood.

"i just... i don't know what i would do without you." gepard pauses his hand's careful trail against your hair, the heartfelt sentiment stopping him dead in his tracks.

"... then that's just another reason for me to make it back home every day, no?" your eyes are still leaking the occasional tear, though you suspect that they are no longer caused by the remnants of your nightmare as you laugh, before pressing a deep kiss to gepard's lips.

"i love you."

"and i love you too. always."

➤ IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... bound 2 fall in love!

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what is your favorite thing about charles and your favorite thing about erik? separately, as in what you like most about their characters :]

a devious question this one is, my friend!!! it's hard enough for me to explain my thoughts cohesively, but having to pick ONE thing i particularly love is difficult. with characters like charles and erik, theres been so much done with their characters over the decades and so they have so many components to them that make them so interesting and fun to observe. BUT I TRY FOR YOU TODAY. under the cut i kinda ramble and the size of this text box makin me anxious

i think if i were to be simple and broad, what i enjoy most about charles is his determination to help others, even if he isn't really thanked and/or if people don't even like him. ofc, this isn't to say he hasn't done wrong- to be honest, the fact he does wrong/questionable things at times is another aspect of him i really enjoy, maybe because- broadly speaking- he's meant to be altruistic (intent vs outcome and all that). i don't know if that's super exciting to most people, but it is for me

as for erik, my reason for liking him is easier to explain tbh. To Be Simple And Broad, his progression from villain to antihero over the decades has been fun to observe (as much as i have so far anyhow) and analyze. i think to be a bit more specific, him using his rage and pain as justifications for his villainous actions is definitely what compels me the most: hurt people hurt and the sort, an idea i've always found interesting (something something vicious cycles and the like). yet now, he recognizes this wasn't really. A Just Thing To Do and is beginning to change that, which i enjoy

[jekyll-doodles]

for the emojies ask... I choose red heart (what is their love language), for all the wakey wakey lords in "the after"

���️ RED HEART - their love language(s)?

Nigredo - Words Of Affirmation

Albedo - Quality Time

Citrinitas - Acts Of Service

Rubedo - Physical Touch

This really applies to most stages of their unfortunately long, complicated lives.

[snixx]

you'd think losing people would stop hurting as much after you've gone through it a bunch of times but I guess if humans can learn to love over and over with the same or even greater intensities it makes sense that the following pain of losing said people you give that love to is proportional each time too

[chuunibyou-showdown]

Setsuna only got in last year so I could beef up the contestant number to be 32 but now he has a chance as a contestant again,,, truly the underdog (collar) candidate

[kaurwreck]

for the ask game: LILAC CHARCOAL AND RASPBERRY

anon this is so sweet 😭

[ask game provided below for reference; if you'd like to play, please reblog from OP here:]

[glorious-spoon]

the thing about friends-to-lovers is that, done properly, the tension comes from the fact that you can love someone so much that they’re like a part of your soul without ever wanting to date, fuck, or marry them, so knowing for a fact that the person you’re pining for loves you doesn’t actually help much. makes it worse, in some ways.

[amitykinz]

.