#anyway i’m just very happy and have some really really great people in my life

[kurooh]

★ EPISODE 01. GREED

SUMMARY. nothing like new beginnings, right? UA studios is the luckiest second chance you’ve ever gotten! once you’ve met your new manager and signed the last legal papers, you’re supposed to head off to your very first shoot. there, you’ll film your debut and prove that you belong to UA.

WARNINGS. 18+ content, mdni. fem! reader, casting couch, panties used as a gag, dry humping, unprotected sex, blowjobs, dirty talk. wc / 7.3k

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a document covered in legalese, clauses, and words you’ve never seen before is slid toward you, along with a pen for when you’re finished reading through it. 

“this is the last one,” your new manager gives you a half smile, unsurprised by the confusion that washes over your face. “it’s a form verifying that everything you’ve signed off on is true.”

your eyes drift further down the page, toward the neat signature of his name. shinsou hitoshi, printed beneath a scribble of what appears to be his initials. although you haven’t been with him for more than an hour, you’re already much happier than you were when you’d stepped foot in the building. naturally, as all people do, you compare shiketsu studios and UA side by side. it’s pretty unfair, because of your disdain for shiketsu and lack of experience at UA, but the latter comes out on top.

shinsou sips his coffee. you read through the contract, pausing to squint at some of the last few conditions referring to unprofessionalism in the workplace; here, it’s taken seriously. you were nervous at first, especially with the ball and chain of shiketsu’s scandal dragging behind you, but it never came up. not in the phone call, not in the conversations on the way up to the office, and not once since the paperwork began.

black ink glides across the paper, smooth and formal. with two fingers, shinsou tucks the paper into your file, along with the rest of your necessary personal information. he offers you a wider smile—exhausted at the edges—and easily extends his hand, as if he’s done it a million times before.

your palm presses against his in a firm handshake, and he fixes you with a meaningful look. 

“welcome to UA.”

“more than happy to be here,” you reply automatically, smile making its way through your voice as he leans back into his chair, folding his hands.

“we went over scheduling on the phone, and i set you up for a shoot today, just as requested. i know you’re not necessarily new to the industry, but i’m gonna tell you all of this as though you are, okay?”

you nod, raising your cup of complimentary coffee to your lips. creamer swirls in the middle of it like a whirlpool; each sip is slow and unhurried as you savor the flavor. it’s an ordinary cup of coffee, but it’s the most ordinary you’ve had in a long time.

“it typically depends, but you can expect to be on set for more than two hours today. filming can take a while, and we’ve had talent spend the whole day on one set, just to get everything right. because of this, actors are limited to filming a maximum of three times a week.”

your eyebrows shoot up, but you nod again. “that’s actually a great rule to have.”

“people need time to rest and recover, and plus, the studio’s huge! there’s no need to overwork the same actors. at UA, maintaining work-life balance is really important to us. our films and videos are kind of crazy, but management is everything but. anyway, let me give you my number.”

with his nice black pen, shinsou scribbles his phone number onto a light purple sticky note. it seems to match the color of his long, grown out hair, and you can’t help but wonder what came first. did he like the sticky note color so much that he dyed his hair to match it, or was his hair always purple and he just bought the stationary to match it?

“this is my personal number,” the square of paper is torn away from the stack with a sticky sound, “if something comes up and you can’t make a booking, you call me. if you’re adding people to your yes list and no list, which you’ll do over time, you let me know so i can take care of it and keep track. even if it’s something simple, like you get turned around when you’re walking through the studio, send me a text. i’m your manager. i’m here to help you and make your job easier. don’t hesitate to reach out if you’ve got something going on.”

.  .  . 

noon rolls around faster than you expect it to.

shinsou’s given you all of the details regarding where you need to be, who you’ll be with, and what you need to be wearing when you get there. the dress code is simple—you’re expected to wear a casual, slightly revealing outfit with a matching set beneath. 

you tug unsurely at your top, smoothing down the ruffles near your midsection for what’s probably the sixth time in ten minutes. it barely moves, looking the same as it did before. anxiety thrums in your chest, tangling itself intricately in your ribcage; the pressure to perform at your best is eating away at you, leaving you with an uncomfortable weight in your stomach and little to no air in your lungs.

again, you try to remind yourself that UA was the one pursuing you, not the other way around. the affirmation is supposed to put you at ease, but it has the opposite effect—if they were after you, they clearly expect the best from you. that thought doubles the weight upon your shoulders, nearly crushing you to the floor like a soda can.

before you can overthink any further, you’re already at the door, hand trembling just above the knob. you can hear the chatter of voices inside, the relaxed tones of conversation. you suck in a sharp breath, quickly running through the information about the shoot in your head; it’s some kind of run-of-the-mill casting couch video with one sero hanta. when he was reading you the details from a printed sheet of paper, shinsou didn’t seem worried in the slightest. he just wore a neutral expression, and reminded you to get there on time.

nausea swirls in your stomach. if you don’t just breathe and walk in, you’ll end up getting sick all over the floor and fired within the hour. you inhale shakily, plastering a smile onto your face as you twist the door open. this is fine.

all heads turn toward you. too many faces in such a small room, with so many cameras and microphones set up around a black couch. you can’t even choke out a greeting before someone’s on his feet, offering you a handshake and easy smile. “there’s the lady of the hour.” 

“that’s me,” you laugh nervously, grasping his hand. the carpet looks dull, the once colorful patterns faded by foot traffic and time. despite its worn appearance, it looks cleaner than one might have expected. you look up at the person standing in front of you, so dazed you hadn’t even noticed you were staring at the carpet. 

“the name’s hanta,” your co-star releases your hand, jerking a thumb at himself. he’s saying something about the camera crew, but you don’t really hear it—you’re more focused on how big he is. he’s a lot taller than you and full of energy, the corners of his lips tugging into disarming smiles that almost make you want to melt. “—this one’s mostly improv, y’know? kinda going for an all-natural video here, and your manager totally thought i was the right guy for the job.”

hanta’s standing in front of you, sounding all nice and friendly when he talks. he almost has the audacity to look a little clueless, like he’s completely unaware of how good he looks. you’ve seen him on camera, watched a few of his videos. at shiketsu, during breaks, you’d sometimes hear his name come up in conversations between the girls. some of them would watch UA’s videos before shooting, just to get themselves wet for their unsightly co-stars. once, you may not have seen the appeal. but now, standing as close as you are to him, you definitely understand it. something electric rushes through your stomach and leaves a sparking hot trail as it descends between your thighs. 

“sounds great,” you say, even though you blacked out at some point while he was talking and only regained consciousness just now. he probably knows a thing or two about you, but you officially introduce yourself nonetheless. “nice to meet you, hanta.”

the director comes over to shake your hand. “like he said, this is supposed to be a very low-key debut. i’ve prepared a small list of things you might want to say, but otherwise, this is mainly improv. if you’d like to take a seat on that couch right there, we can go ahead and get started.”

.  .  . 

you’re on the couch, sitting up straight with your hands folded in your lap. it’s already a few degrees warmer than when you’d first stepped into the room—the fan had to be unplugged, lest it become an annoying noise in the background during filming. a few camera people busy themselves with setting up and situating the microphones and such, while the director looks through the camera at you. 

“hmm. perhaps you could be a little more relaxed? maybe sit back and lean into the couch. we don’t want you to be too stiff, even if you are nervous.”

you’re in the middle of readjusting yourself when hanta clicks his tongue, holding a hand out to motion you to stop moving. “she looks good the way she is. you see nerves, i see confidence and attention.”

the faintest trace of tension curls through the air like dissipating smoke. the two men hold their ground, looking one another in the eye, before the director raises his hands in surrender, exhaling through his nose.

“i suppose i hadn’t thought of it that way.”

someone tells the director something about having set up all of the microphones, while another plugs in a hand-held camera to charge. hanta situates himself in a chair behind the camera, looking like he’s in command of everything, while the actual director sits beside him with a whiteboard and marker.

“you can call cut at any time, if you’re uncomfortable with something. i’ll hold up the whiteboard in case you need any additional guidance or help with lines if you draw a blank.”

“thank you,” you nod at the director and take a deep breath. he glances briefly at hanta, playing it off as though he was just looking toward the camera. “action!”

“so, how’d you hear about us? what brings you to our agency, babe?”

it’s easier to lie, or come up with an answer, when you’re focused on hanta, not the camera. “i’ve seen a few ads online, but i’ve also heard really great things from my friends.”

the girls at shiketsu talked about more than just sero hanta—many of them had little crushes on the UA stars, as well as personal interests in the studio. but with UA studios being a primary rival to shiketsu, conversations remained hushed and secretive. honestly, shiketsu’s downfall turned out to be a success more than anything else; some of the drug addicts could finally recieve help, and the sober talent could look into working elsewhere.

clear and effortless, hanta’s words roll right off his tongue, despite the absence of a script in his lap. he’s looking directly at you, as if the camera doesn’t exist. “i understand you’re looking to work as a model with our agency. could you tell me a little more about what you’re interested in?”

you introduce yourself by name again, face growing warm as you follow his lead. “i’ve done some modelling before, and i took a small break, but i’m ready to get back into it. oh, i’ve never modelled swimwear or underwear before, but i wouldn’t mind giving it a try.”

he smirks, eyes shamelessly raking down your clothed body, as if he’s daring you to strip. “someone isn’t shy. would you mind showing me what you’ve got to offer to our agency?”

it’s acting. it’s fake, and yet, his words make your thighs squeeze together.

you nod, smile wavering. for a moment, you think the director will call for a cut, but he holds up the whiteboard and its instructions: strip down to your underwear & bra.

the jeans are the first to go. denim slides down your thighs, barely catching on your heels, and soon, it’s on the floor. you take care not to move too quickly, too hurried, as you lift your shirt up and over your head. it lands beside your jeans in a pile on the dull carpet, and you’re left in a matching black set.

hanta’s grin only grows wider. “our producers are gonna love you. if you’re interested, i can pull some strings and set you up for a shoot as early as tomorrow. how does underwear sound?”

a genuine smile spreads across your face; you don’t realize how innocent it makes you look, or how much it turns hanta on. oh, and you even sound a little excited! your acting is spectacular, for a newbie. he’s seen your shiketsu videos—trashy, low quality clips of you getting ruined on camera, posted for millions of people to see—and was more than excited to accept this shoot with you. shinsou had let hanta know that he’d specifically requested him for the job because of hanta’s tendency to be easygoing and charismatic with new actresses; at the end of his email, shinsou wrote a note saying that this set-up was him paying off his debt to hanta.

“that sounds great! i wasn’t sure if i could find my groove again, after being out of the industry for so long. could you tell me a little more about the photoshoot or the brand it’s for?”

hanta leans forward, propping his chin up on his fist. “slowww down. i haven’t even told you what i want in return for giving you this job, sweetheart.”

you pout, playing along perfectly. you’re selling this nervous, virgin-turned-slut image really well; hanta’s rock hard, though his slacks do a good job of hiding it. he’d rather have you feel it than see it—the thought of your reaction makes his cock twitch against his thigh. what if he touched you in all the right places, spoke everything you’ve ever wanted to hear into your ear? would you fall apart and forget all about the plot of the video and its loose script in favor of him?

“oh. i didn’t know your offer came with strings attached.”

“it’s just apart of the industry,” hanta murmurs, his eyes hooded with barely restrained desire. he’s so open, displaying his emotions on his face; he looks at you like you’re some kind of dessert that he doesn’t want to keep his hands off of. “anyway, what i want is for you to sleep with me.”

part of your true persona shines through in your breathless response, “i . . okay. yeah. yes, i’ll do it. for the, um, photoshoot.”

hanta draws it out, just for the camera. just because he wants your debut video to do well. definitely not because he’s on the verge of creaming his boxers from excitement and arousal. no. never. (he needs to jerk off more often.)

“that easy, huh? you’re a model, not a pornstar.”

“i could be both,” you say, eyes meeting his in a heated glance.

the director calls for a cut and claps his hands, getting to his feet. he’s going back and forth with two members of the camera crew, and you don’t really realize that the camera’s no longer rolling until hanta’s standing in front of you. tall and broad, his body casts a shadow over you.

your eyes drag up from his waist to his face, where a small grin plays on his lips. “that was pretty good, babe. where’d you learn how to act so well? ooh, and that improv.” he playfully wiggles his eyebrows, and it makes you laugh.

“i don’t know. i kinda picked it up over time, y’know? making porn isn’t that different from making movies.”

“gotcha. i gotta hand it to you, you’ve got—”

“places, everyone! we need to get ready for the next shot.” the director unintentionally interrupts him as he tries to get your attention and hanta’s. he turns around to look at the director, his face souring, but you don’t see it.

“couldn’t have waited until i was done talking?” “we’re on a tight timetable today,” the director replies, voice clipped. “places, please. i want both of you on the couch, so we can edit the last scene to fade into this one.”

you stand, and hanta lays back on the couch, propping his head up on the armrest. the rest of his body is stretched out over the cushions in a not-so-silent invitation for you to take a seat. heat rushes to your face, and you smile nervously, glancing at the director.

“should i take off my heels or leave them on?”

“leave them on for now,” hanta purrs, even though your question wasn’t directed at him. the director nods jerkily, likely put off by your co-star’s penchant for making filming decisions. “sit down and we can start rolling again.”

without kicking him, you swing a leg up and over his waist; now that you’re hovering above him, you slowly lower yourself onto his lap. the contact makes your eyes widen—he’s hard enough to cut diamonds, his cock pressing firmly against you through the few layers of clothing between your bodies.

he sort of grimaces, hands flying to your waist. “mind if i adjust you? your heel’s kinda digging into my leg.”

hanta barely lifts you more than an inch. he moves you forward and slowly drags you back, the ‘adjustment’ nothing more than a ruse to get some friction. the director either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t call it out; he gestures toward you instead, using his hands to motion forward and backwards.

“if you could get on all fours, that’d be great. we’re trying to transition the talking scene smoothly so that you’re already in the middle of it by the time it fades out,” your hips lift up and off of hanta’s lap as you position yourself according to the director’s instructions. “yes, that’s great! now all you’ve gotta do is arch your back and keep it that way until he moves you later.”

“sorry if my heels are poking you,” you tilt your head forward to whisper the apology into his ear, cheek brushing against his. 

his voice is breathy when he replies, “you’re good.”

“action!”

there is a split second where you aren’t sure what to do. but hanta’s hand comes up to cradle the side of your face, and he pulls you in for a kiss. it’s a smooth, fluid action, as if it’s been done a thousand times before. the stubble along his upper lip is rough in contrast with the softness of his lips, which slide hungrily against yours.

hanta tests the limits, running his tongue along the seam of your mouth. breathless, you let him in, moaning softly at the new contact. but as he kisses you, tongue moving with yours, it doesn’t take long for him to get greedy. large palms coast along the planes of your lower back before he starts to insistently push you down, his hips jerking up to meet yours.

“fuckkk,” hanta lets out a broken moan and tucks his face into your neck, breathing you in. then, more for you than the camera, he murmurs, “you have no idea what i wanna do to you.”

what does he want to do to you? would he fuck you with reckless abandon and keep going even when he has to hold your limp body up? what if he decided to sit you on his lap, play with your pussy with one hand, and choke you with the other? you want nothing more than to find out.

“show me what those hips can do, sweetheart.”

you’re already panting. you hadn’t quite realized how hot you’d gotten since the camera had started rolling, or how easily he’d stolen your breath away with those slick kisses. you sit back, aligning your pussy with his cock through all of the clothing, steadying yourself with your palms planted on his pecs. the lean muscle is solid beneath your splayed fingers.

“like this?” it’s a half-moan, half-plea for some praise. hanta answers you with a grind of his hips and a drawn-out groan. he likes it. he likes what you’re doing, even if he doesn’t say anything—he doesn’t have to.

one of the camera people quietly steps toward the couch with a hand-held camera to capture different angles for the video. you’d nearly forgotten about the video, having gotten caught up with your co-star and everything you want to do to him. god, if there wasn’t a camera and a job to do, you’d sit on his face and see if his tongue was more than just silver.

“yeah, you got it,” hanta’s eyes squeeze shut against the indomitable arousal coursing through his body, hot and buzzing under his skin like a live wire.

“gonna give me that underwear shoot tomorrow, boss?”

you swear you feel his cock jump at your words, and that excites you. it’s only your first shoot, and you’re already making waves. how much could your reputation and popularity skyrocket if you were to get him to cum without even taking his clothes off? wicked delight floods your chest at the thought, and you bear down, pressing more firmly against him.

his throat bobs, and you can see the cogs in his head turning while he tries to think up a response. it must be difficult to do so when you’re batting your lashes innocently, acting as though you’re not riding him like a pony. 

hanta makes up a response by the skin of his teeth. even though the director is silently pointing at the whiteboard with instructions, his movements frantic, your co-star absolutely refuses to accept the help. is it pride? is it snootiness? is he just trying to keep up with your improv?

you expect him to show off his desperation, but he flips the script by scoffing at you, like you’ve just said something stupid. “if you think just this will get you a job, you’re sorely mistaken. put in some work, girl.”

the friction is almost too much to tolerate—each deliberate, aching drag of fabric against fabric makes your mind all the more hazy. wetness visibly soaks your panties, dampening the material enough for it to slide too much to one side now and again. hanta notices—of course he does—and it only winds him up tighter, gets him feeling more frustrated.

he smirks up at you, pleased by the concentrated pinch of your brows and the feverish expression taking over your face. this is you putting in work, and it is hot as hell.

“better. i’m slightly more convinced, babe. might put you down as a backup if the main gal cancels.”

your clit catches perfectly on the seam of your underwear and your jaw drops, a moan spilling out of your mouth. it’s louder than either of you expect it to be, and now that it’s out, you can’t seem to stop. one turns into two. two turns into three, and then the room is full of noise that you can’t hear. you can’t even hear anything past your own heartbeat as you chase the ultrahot ecstasy coiling in your gut, the pressure of it increasing with each rough pass of your hips.

hanta just watches you, eyes tracing your face like he’s trying to memorize everything. past all of the flushed skin and sweat, there is a sort of reverence buried in his expression. he counts himself lucky to be the very first to see you like this—one could argue that you’re no virgin, and you’ve been in the industry for a couple years, but your experience means nothing. you’re a good actor both in unscripted conversation and on the set; in many of your shiketsu videos, you didn’t look like this. you did a good job of faking orgasms and taking weak dick, and now you’re finally enjoying yourself. only ten minutes in and you’re starting to gasp, mouth running too fast for your brain to keep up.

“oh, oh, i’m gonna cum,” hanta’s hands are still on your erratic hips, and he’s guiding you straight to heaven as you begin to lose your rhythm, “fuck, hanta, i-i’m cumming.”

you probably weren’t supposed to say his name, since he never actually introduced himself in the video. but when you’re saying it like that, who is he to give a damn about the plot of a porn video?

you look gorgeous when the euphoria shatters you, hitting you so hard you fall onto his chest, shuddering as the aftershocks rock your body like little earthquakes. hanta holds you close, and out of the corner of his eye, notices the director’s whiteboard and the black writing scrawled across its surface. 

it reads break?? and all hanta can derisively think is how kind the bastard must be.

there’s a beat of silence. no response from hanta, and you’re still slumped against his chest, trying to regulate your breathing. his hand strokes over your back, fingers slipping under your bra straps; you came all over him—he can feel something wet seeping through the front of his pants—and he barely had to lift a finger. it’s a major ego boost, of course. without saying much, he can tell you’re really interested in him . . good, he’s definitely making number one on your yes list.

“cut!”

the camera stops rolling in the nick of time. it doesn’t catch the way his face darkens, and neither do you. his eyes narrow at the director, but he doesn’t say anything aloud.

with a soft sound, you push yourself up and off of his chest until you’re sitting up straight again. your eyes have glazed over with a noticeable desire for more, but the director steps forward before either of you can do anything off-camera.

“are you both doing okay? i’ve got a few bottles of water if either of you need some.”

“thank you,” with a polite nod and dazed smile, you start to move off of your co-star’s lap. water sounds pretty good right about now, honestly. a sip of cold, right out of the fridge water might just give you another orgasm. 

hanta moves faster than you do, his hands securing you in place. his grip is solid, preventing you from moving any further. “we should finish the scene first.”

not standing far from you, the director eyes hanta and raises a brow. “it’ll take less than two minutes. a quick break would benefit both of you anyway.”

quite literally, you aren’t in much of a position to say anything. the refreshment can wait ten or fifteen minutes, right? it’s better to deal with it later, if it’s this much of an imposition.

hanta’s dark eyes narrow, “water’s not going anywhere, is it?”

the director almost frowns, but he backs off and gets behind the camera again. you watch as he drinks some of his own water, his eyebrows furrowing when the erased whiteboard is handed to him by a member of the camera crew.

“eyes on me, babe,” your co-star draws your attention back to himself with a gentle hand cupping your jaw. when you look at him, his face is devoid of any negativity; his expression is calm and curious, like he didn’t just butt heads with the director of the shoot. still, you find yourself leaning in close, skin prickling when his breath ghosts against the shell of your ear. “you ready for the next scene?”

heat floods your cheeks. are you ready for the next scene? you swallow, nodding. “yes. yeah, i’m ready. i’ve been ready.”

“action!”

you take the lead, and hanta follows suit. he grinds you down on the bulge straining through his clothes while your hands waste no time slipping under his shirt and hiking it up. the only time either of you pause is when he sits up to pull his shirt off of his head; it goes smoothly, giving you a great view of his upper body. 

lean musculature defines his entire torso. his chest looks like something you could take a bite out of, and his waist—god, his waist—is slender, shaped on either side with the sharp curves of a v-line. a dark smattering of hair trails along his lower abdomen and descends past the waistband of his pants. you’d be lying if you said your mouth wasn’t feeling particularly empty at the sight; he notices the hunger in the way that you’re looking at him and he chuckles, lips curving up in a half smile.

“like what you see, huh?”

you make quick work of his belt before hooking your fingers into his waistband and dragging his pants down his thighs. “shouldn’t i be asking you that?” you mutter in reply, buzzing with impatience. finally, his god damn boxers are off. you yank them right off his ankles and toss them to the floor, glad to be rid of them. 

hanta’s cock nearly looks as good as it felt. thick, long, and curving to his left, it looks like quite the mouthful. you’re staring at it with this bright look in your eyes, and he swells with pride. yes, he knows he has a great dick, but this just inflates him even more. but then, almost apprehensively, your hand wraps around the base of his cock, and he sits up straighter.

“i wanna – uh, is it okay if i just give it a try?”

it strokes his ego, literally. 

hanta nods, fighting back the instinct to push your head down. he really shouldn’t be this damn excited. it’s just a blowjob, something that he’s had plenty of during his time at UA studios. he’ll split his focus, so that he’s outwardly paying attention to you while he inwardly names cities in japan so that he doesn’t cum too quickly.

you’re nervous, at first. silky soft and pretty pink, your tongue experimentally laps at the head of his cock. his precum tastes salty, and the faintest tinge of smoke makes its way to your tastebuds before the flavor dissipates entirely. 

one of the crew members silently steps closer, holding onto a large camera. he tilts it in a way that gets the premier angles of this slow, unhurried act of sin. hanta drags in a breath when you wrap your lips around the tip and lightly suck before sliding further toward the base, little by little. the grip of your hand loosens as you take in more of him, letting his cock fill up your mouth.

sendai.

his palm cups the crown of your head, fingers making their way into your hair and curling tightly. you’ve begun bobbing along his cock, almost clumsy as you try to develop a rhythm that works for you. firmly, you start to stroke the lower half of his cock, compensating for the inches you can’t quite fit into your mouth.

yokohama.

thin and permeable, the fabric of your panties is completely soaked through. since you’re on all fours with your ass up as you suck him off, it’s safe to assume that the person holding the camera is zooming in on the wet spot between your thighs. hanta’s heavy on your tongue and sliding even deeper with each movement of your head; tears of both strain and delight gather in your eyes. 

nagoya.

hanta may be struggling. he might be finding it very difficult not to tremble against the sheer glory of your mouth, and the city counting method might actually be failing him. if you were to just sit up and ask him what city UA studios is located in, it’d take a minute for the answer to load in his brain. the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, making you gag; everything tightens deliciously around him, and he lets out a moan, fingers winding tighter in your hair.

osaka.

you’re struggling to breathe as the pace increases, growing a little sloppy. each stroke is fast and filthy, better than it has any right to be. you glance up, looking past the tears gathered on your lashes, to see his head tossed back over the armrest while he chews on his lip. the sight of him is a reward and motivation to push yourself a little harder—he doesn’t look that far off from letting out a whine or two. a particularly breathy moan spills out of him before he can muffle it with the back of his free hand, and the sound goes straight to your clit, making you moan in response.

toky—oh.

something salty gathers faintly in the back of your throat, and hanta drags you away, willing his eyes not to roll back when your front teeth graze along the length of his too-sensitive cock. he yanks you off of him with a sticky pop and his eyes meet yours. it’s a clash of lips and teeth and whatever in between when he pulls you into a kiss, releasing the tight grip he’d had on your hair.

you had him on the ropes there.

nobody gets him that close with just their mouth.

fuck, he’s really gotta start jerking off more. or film more scenes with you—but he doesn’t think he could ever get used to that mouth of yours.

operating based off of the director’s hand motions, the guy with the camera steps back to film from a different angle. hanta’s sitting up now, his eyes closed as he pulls you against him, all without breaking the kiss. breathing is close to impossible now, but it doesn’t matter in the slightest when he’s pulling your panties off you.

well, almost.

it’s more difficult than it should be to divest you of your panties, and hanta’s not in the mood to stop so you can properly slide them down your legs. so, he tugs until the fabric gives with an agonized rip, and then tears them right off you. because your bra is easier to work with, it doesn’t meet the same fate; your fingers bump into his as you hustle to get it off.

“god, fuck,” hanta lets out a sigh once you’re finally just as naked as him. his hand finds its way to your bare chest, where he lightly squeezes you. not enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp. “tits like yours are my favorite, sweetheart. can’t wait to see ‘em when you’re modelling.”

he sees the confusion pass over your face. “just fuck me,” you say, hips swinging toward his cock. part of him wants to make some stupid quip about the whole modelling script, but it’s time for him to do what he intended to do since the very moment he saw the news about shiketsu studios’ shutdown.

with a short and out of breath laugh, hanta lifts you up. this time, he moves you, turning you around so that your back is facing him. instead of being face to face with your attractive co-star, you’re now looking at the director, who’s quietly doodling on the whiteboard to give you at least a shred of privacy. also, the camera is positioned directly in front of you and capturing your every movement, along with the hand-held being moved around the room for closeups.

“lift your hips, baby. i want you on your knees for a sec,” hanta’s voice is in your ear, guiding you in the right direction. your bare pussy sideswipes his cock on the way up, and the anticipation bubbles up in your chest like carbonation in a shaken soda can. there was so much foreplay, so much buildup, that every second now feels like it’s dragging past much slower than it actually is.

his hand is wrapped around his spit-slick cock, keeping it straight and steady for you. he doesn’t even have to say anything and you’re already sinking down, arching your back as his cock slides into you. it’s a tight fit and an even tighter stretch—each inch punches a gasp out of your lungs and leaves you breathless, shaking against him.

“mhm, y-you got it,” hanta tries his best to keep the stutter out of his voice and fails, but you’re too caught up to notice. for some reason, you’re torturing yourself by sitting down as slowly as you are. he supposes it’s something to be thankful for, though. if you were to just drop yourself down on him when he’s still not over the sensitivity from your mouth, he might end up cumming and ruining the entire scene. but would it really be a bad thing if he had to re-shoot this with you?

maybe there’s a wire or two crossed in your brain, because you start pulling up. yes, up, and away from his cock. he thinks you’re going to pull off when you barely have the tip left inside you, but then you do the very opposite—you sit back, dropping yourself all the way down.

“holy shit,” hanta half exclaims, half groans. he wraps an arm around your middle and feels your heart pounding out of your chest as you struggle for breath. incoherent mumbles and whines slip out of your mouth, nothing that he can understand, but he just presses a kiss to the nape of your neck and looks to his left, then right. he reaches for your now tattered panties and offers them up to your mouth. he’s planning to make you scream, and this might prevent your sounds from being picked up as background noise on the videos of anyone that may be filming nearby.

you bite down on the panties, hips twisting impatiently on his cock. he’s both filling you up and stretching you out, but neither sensation is enough. you won’t be satisfied until he fucks you so hard you forget this is being filmed.

hanta’s hands come up under your thighs, and he holds you firmly, slightly pushing you up. the muscles in his arms pull taut, stretching with the effort, and he looks good. slick with sweat and flushed all the way down to his chest, with the cherry on top being that divine look on his face when he’s really enjoying himself.

you want to see him so badly. you almost want to call cut so someone can move a mirror in front of you, but you’d be lost in your own world and fucking by the time they came back with it.

“keep looking into the lens, babe. i want all of this on camera, and i’m pretty sure you will too.”

low and quiet, his words make their way to your ears. what he’s saying isn’t loud enough for the microphones to pick up, but it’s clear that something’s going on, with the way you nod feverishly in response.

it isn’t slow, and it isn’t controlled.

with about as much grace as that of a wild animal ready to mate, sero hanta begins fucking up into you like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to have you. his cock bullies itself deep against your cervix and stretches out your cunt in a way that renders you speechless. a graceless sob tears out of your throat, just barely muffled by your wet panties, and it only inspires him to go beyond.

clap, clap, clap.

your ass is bouncing off of him with each and every vigorous thrust. because you’re facing forward, you have no choice but to look into the camera as he fucks away any coherent thought you could possibly have. embarrassment over having sex in a room with people you don’t know watching and filming you? gone. nervousness about your raunchy debut at UA studios? nowhere to be found. all of it vanishes into thin air, until the only thing left in your empty head is the echo of his name trembling on your tongue.

stars shoot across your vision, glowing and golden as he fucks you into oblivion. hanta’s panting, his ragged breaths hot and balmy against your back. his heart is pounding out of his chest like he’s running on the treadmill at the gym, but he grits his teeth against the exhaustion setting in and shifts his hips.

“oh, shit,” your mouth falls open in a sob, back arching hard in his grasp, and he smiles. “right there—oh my god, d-don’t you dare stop.”

“looks like i found it, huh?” the cockiness makes its way through his voice, and if you weren’t falling apart right now, you’d roll your eyes before retorting something back.

wetness pours from your soaked cunt and makes the slide of skin against skin all the more filthy. there’s enough to dampen the couch, but neither of you can bring yourselves to care about it. thick and curved, his cock is lodged in all of the places you could possibly want it; each nudge of the tip against your cervix is controlled, just barely, but you can feel the strain of restraint behind it.

god, just the thought of him destroying you this much while also still holding back is enough to push the tears over your lashline. they run down your cheeks in crystalline trails, and you must be audibly crying now, because hanta chokes out a groan, tipping his forehead against your shoulder.

“i’m gonna—fuck, i can’t, i’m so close,” your head is falling back, teeth clenching around the ruined panties, and impending euphoria surges through you like a cresting wave. at this point, teetering on the very precipice of something big, you’ve stopped making sense. hanta can almost make out what you’re babbling through the panties; each word is broken and choked thanks to the change in his rhythm. instead of holding you up and fucking into you that way, he’s decided to drive his hips up and pull you down onto his cock; each thrust hits much harder than it did before. “p-please, hanta, you’re gonna make me cum—!”

that’s right. 

he’s going to make you cum, and he’s going to make you cum hard.

he yanks the panties out of your mouth and drops his hand from your chest. hot with intent and moving quickly, his fingers make their way down toward your clit, where he begins to rub it. twisting and arching—a little like you’re possessed—you gasp as it all starts to become too much.

“go ahead, sweetheart,” hanta murmurs into your ear, no longer caring if it’s picked up on the video or not, “tell them. tell everyone that’ll see this who’s fucking you this good.”

your breath escapes you when you sob out his name again.

teeth sink into the slope of your shoulder, but you’re too lost to feel the sting. this time, when he speaks, his voice is husky with conviction and acidic desire. “i want to hear you cum all over me, okay? ugh, fuck, if this wasn’t your first goddamn shoot, i’d—”

you cum all over him with a noisy keen of his name, and it’s the only thing on your tongue as you ride it out, slumping back against his chest. he follows shortly afterwards, spilling hot and thick inside your pussy. 

hanta wishes he could just lay here with you on him, but his eyes open and he ends up looking straight into the camera. standing behind it is the director, holding up the whiteboard and some directions that he couldn’t care less about. instead, he presses a kiss to your temple, almost smiling at the way your body twitches in response.

he has definitely made number one on your yes list. 

good. he hasn’t gotten his fill of you yet.

hanta smirks as his eyes run over your exhausted, spent body. then, he looks into the camera, holding you close and spreading your thighs to showcase the mess between them. 

“looks like someone’s officially secured her first photoshoot.”

[giveemhales]

🦇 My 30 Favorite Batfam Fics of 2024 🦇

I’m continuing my annual tradition of sharing some of my favorite fics that came out in the past year (you can see last year’s list here). This is just a way for me to show my love and appreciation for the many amazing artists/writers who keep the fandom alive. If you read any of these fics, please make sure to leave some kudos and comments! And there are so many amazing fics I wasn’t able to include, so I encourage you to show some appreciation to your own favorites!

Please be sure to read all tags and warnings. I’ve provided warnings for the darkest fics.

All of these fics were completed in 2024. I only do one fic per author, but definitely check out all of these authors’ other works. Also, most of these feature tim, because he is my favorite. Now, without further ado…

Sparkles by @iselsis (2k, jason & bruce, fluff, a/b/o dynamics, batman finds an omega kid covered in cuddle pollen and going into heat)

until the bounds of death have been unwound by @vinelark (2.9k, tim & jason, fantasy and angst with a hopeful ending, tim is a demigod and he goes to save jason from the underworld) (the sequel is also great!)

Sacrificial Lamb by @kgraces (3.3k, tim & bruce, angst with a happy ending, bruce makes a deal with the devil to trade tim’s life for jason’s, his kids later find out) (this fic messed me up, i actually think about it all the time)

wouldn’t wish it by @green-eyedfirework (3.3k, jason & damian & tim, whump/angst with a hopeful ending, talia calls jason to save his brothers from the league of assassins) *READ THE TAGS

Lucky Number Three by @sohotthateveryonedied (3.4k, tim & bruce, angst and hurt/comfort, bruce has to deal with the consequences of his actions while he was under the influence of truth serum) (won’t make much sense unless you read this fic which honestly destroyed me)

Anything by @byrambles (3.5k, dick-centric, angst with a happy ending, bruce tells dick he wants to adopt his siblings, dick assumes this does not mean him)

possess by @envysparkler (4.6k, bruce-centric, angst with a happy ending, bruce is possessed by a demon that want, fortunately jason has magic swords)

The Guilt Never Really Left, You Know by @neuro-psyche (4.9k, dick & jason, angst with a happy ending, nightwing saves and then confronts red hood) *READ THE TAGS

Sacrifice by @onemuseleft (5.4k, bruce & his kids, light angst with a happy ending, the justice league is successfully negotiating with alien invaders until they request the sacrifice of one of Batman’s children)

you’ll be alright [or else] by @call-me-quill (5.9k, tim & jason, angst with a happy ending, tim takes a bullet meant for jason and doesn’t understand why jason is so upset)

the bed and breakfast by @adelfie (6.2k, dick-centric, fluff and angst with a happy ending, dick is stranded at a b&b during blizzard, things seem fine until he realizes he’s being held hostage)

with the exception of… by @dss1101 (6.4k, tim-centric, hurt/comfort, everyone realizes tim had a very different experience with his batman than all the other kids)

How to be a Little Brother by @die-erlkonigin6083 (7.4k, damian-centric, fluff and light angst, damian tries to learn how to be a good younger brother)

Reply ‘STOP’ to Unsubscribe by @motleyfam & @batmoniker (8.4k, jason & tim, angst with a happy ending, tim imagines his dad when he’s hit with fear gas at school) (this will probably make more sense if you read the rest of the series first, but I don’t think is strictly necessary (but you should read the series anyway bc it’s great))

Of A Genius’ Legacy by @sparkoflena (8.5k, tim-centric, fluff, tim graduates high school, a lot more people than he expected show up)

Flatline by @dragonpyre (8.9k, jason-centric, angst with a happy ending, jason is injected with a drug that basically shuts down his body, he has to watch his family’s reactions to finding his “dead” body)

Our Dead Drink the Sea by @ghost-bxrd (9.2k, jason-centric, angst with a happy ending, jason is a selkie and bruce kept his pelt when he died, the red hood takes the pelt and the batfam want it back)

In The Back Room by WhumpKing223 (9.9k, dick & jason & tim, heavy angst with a hopeful ending, batman discovers black mask is holding three boys captive, bruce wayne decides to take them in) (the rest of the series is about the boys’ time with bruce and it is great) *READ THE TAGS

Boom, Boom, Pow! by LilaVaporizer9000 (11.1k, tim-centric, absolute hilarity, kid tim steals the batmobile and wreaks havoc/ saves the day)

how to feed your local demon by @inkpotsprite (14.5k, tim & dick & bruce, fluff and humor and light angst, dick is an incubus and isn’t doing well after jason’s death, tim shows up to help)

the fire under your feet by @phneltwrites (17.8k, tim & jason & damian, angst with a happy ending, tim shows up to the league of assassins while jason is still there, they must team up to save damian from ra’s)

Perfect Storm by @banditywrites (25.1k, tim-centric, angst with a happy ending, tim is winning the game of not needing anything from his parents, but it starts getting harder and his neighbors are concerned)

you’re not defenseless, i’ll be your shelter by @fandomtrash-whataboutit (26.3k, tim-centric, angst with a hopeful ending, tim is lex luthor’s captive and is in charge of watching over the new captives- young justice) (the only batfam relationship in this is tim & dick, but the rest of the series has more batfam plus timkon and is so good)

Brother of the Fucking Year by @aceofdivinechlorophyll (26.4k, jason-centric, fluff and crack, jason makes plans to chaotically meet and bond with his siblings… as red hood) (will probably make more sense if you read the first part of the series first, which is also funny and great)

Join the Club by @cephalog0d (26.9k, jason & tim & dick, fluff and humor and light angst, where tim and jason meet at school, tim is dick’s biggest fan, and jason thinks it would be funny to make them meet) (this was filled for me for FTH but I would have included this fic regardless, it’s great)

What Christmas Means To Me by @taralaurel (29.9k, tim & dick & jason & bruce, fluff and angst, tim meets bruce when he is dressed as santa and asks for his parents to be home for Christmas, the batfam takes this as a challenge)

Screaming In The Dark (While We All Play Our Part) by @yourwakingnightmares (32.9k, dick & jason & tim & damian, heavy angst with a hopeful ending, the batboys are captives of a very evil batman, they escape and go to the justice league for help) (I also rec the sequel, which is ongoing and great) *READ THE TAGS

The Right Substitution is Key by @addictedapple (34.4k, jason-centric, fluff and crack and light angst, nightwing and batman go missing, robin asks red hood to fill in as batman)

the loneliness in worth by @yeeyee123 (56.1k, tim & damian, angst with a happy ending and humor, tim is supposed to be training in paris, he instead ends up with the league of assassins and decides he’s gonna help damian get to his father)

Northern Attitude (I Was Raised on Little Light) by @theskeptileptic (103.2k, tim-centric, heavy angst with a happy ending, tim is bruce’s biological son, jack drake has been punishing him his whole life for this, the batfam just want tim in their life) (technically not finished, but I didn’t put it in the WIP section as there is only one chapter left and it’s honestly at a satisfying stopping point) *READ THE TAGS, there is graphic child abuse

+5 WIPs I’d love to see more of in 2025!

[Refuge] by @raberbagirl (7.6k, tim & jason & dick, mostly fluff, the boys take refuge from the streets in the abandoned and supposedly haunted Wayne manor, the spirit of the manor is just happy to care for the kids)

a cuckoo in the nest by @antebunny (9.4k, tim-centric, angst and fluff, bruce makes a deal with the fae to get jason back, he has to take tim in in return, tim just wants to be loved)

Mine by @millytsworld (18k, jason & dick, angst with a happy ending, dick is the right hand man to an infamous mob boss (bruce) and decides jason is his new little brother, jason completely misunderstands dick’s intentions) *READ THE TAGS

Losing Time by hatlessmule (40.3k, tim-centric, angst (hopefully with a happy ending), tim finds himself in a universe where he doesn’t exist, the batfam want to know who this flighty kid is)

Care and Keeping and Kryptonite by @mild-and-hammered (96.9k, superbat ft. the bat kids, fluff and light angst, mild-mannered reporter clark is injured and has to stay with playboy bruce wayne and neither know the other’s secret identity, meanwhile bruce’s kids start meddling to bring the two closer together)

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.

or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?

or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~

Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.

It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?

Danny’s obsession was going crazy.

Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?

Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?

Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*

~~~~~

Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!

~~~~~

Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?

~~~~~2 hours later~~~~

~~~~~

Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.

Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.

To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.

Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.

The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:

~~~~~

Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Red Mercedes

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: Perfect married life sometimes hides the rotten truth of lies.

Warnings: cheating, slight manipulation, George getting what’s his at all cost, curse words and smut implication

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: After a frustrating week of not having any good ideas, I had a dream, so I finally had something to pour my heart into. It was so intense that it didn't let me eat my lunch, how fast my fingers drummed at the keyboard and my thoughts flew out of my brain. Enjoy it! :) wanted to include my favorite pregnancy trope, but i decided to not go that way this time

———

“Dad, I’m trying to tell you that mum is acting weird.” Your twelve year old son was travelling with George to Cayman Island for this event he was invited to, to speak about his ongoing career path as a leading F1 champion. 

George glanced at him, his hands gripping the steering wheel, regally upset about the fact that even your son noticed that something isn't right with your marriage.

“Mum is just tired. That’s all.” he tried to brush it off, but he knew. 

“You know, dad, I’m not stupid. I saw her with some man a week ago, sitting at the restaurant when we were out on a bike with boys. She was smiling at him like… Well, not like she’s smiling at you.” his son continued to ponder with his thoughts, pouring his mind out, making George feel uneasy. Pulling over at the hotel they were supposed to stay at, engine off, he turned his body to face his son.

“Buddy, I know that you love your mom, hell, who could not love her.. But she’s- it’s just a phase. I’m gonna figure it out, and you have nothing to worry about.” he tried to reassure him with his soft smile, his eyes betraying him, reflecting the weight of the growing lies.

———

“I see that you’re here with your son, he grew so much throughout the years, aren’t you afraid that he’s gonna be after you soon, you know, with racing and stuff?” 

George chuckled, moving his gaze at his giggling son in the first row, his sweaty palm wrapped around the microphone. “Well, there is the possibility, but his hobbies are different. He’s much more of a cyclist, so I think that Tadej Pogacar should be scared of having another rival.” 

“Oh, that’s great! Guess the Russell’s family is spreading through the field of sports. It’s a shame that your wife isn’t here with us, we had planned to have a family photo shoot for you, also spending some time on the yacht with the staff here.” 

George was professional at keeping his composure, so he just chuckled again, looking at the crowd of people in the small room.

“We can do that anyway, we don’t need my wife for that. She’s busy with some of her other projects, so…” 

Everybody seemed to be happy about it, not noticing the slight frown on George’s face and his son’s.

You were staying at home in Monaco, texting with your lover. Your naive brain was living in an illusion that nobody knows, you sneaking around with someone else, secret meetings at the old restaurant on the other side of the town, your red luxurious Mercedes parked in front of it very often. You were really dumb in some aspects and being so careless about getting after your own desires, you hurt your family in the process.

All those years of your marriage you heard it around you all the time, how George is a gentleman, kind guy, loving and caring husband and father, how every other woman would die for having him just for at least five minutes. But nobody saw that toll that had an impact on you, your life when you fell pregnant unexpectedly, and how George married you just because of it. Feeding you with all those empty promises, but leaving you alone through all that maternity shit because he was at the peak of his career while you were breastfeeding his restless son at night.

Yeah, there were times you were genuinely happy as a family, somewhere between the three to ten years of your son, George was more present, you accompanied him at races from time to time, depending on how his and your parents were willing to look after your kid. 

But the last two years felt like a nightmare, because George won another two championships after five years of no luck, his fans being literally everywhere, even breaking into your home. You spent a lot of time on the go, changing your location and you grew tired of this. Intimity between you and George was long gone, and you yearned for something he couldn’t give you, the tension, secrecy and passion. Even if it meant to destroy everything you have.

———

Darkness overtook the docks in Monaco, rain washing away the summer heat wave. George stood at the huge ass window of your penthouse, sipping on his whiskey, even though he did not favour the liquid that much, he got used to it from time to time. Your son was away for the holiday cycling camp, and with summer break in F1, it left him home alone with the lingering scent of your expensive perfume you saved for your not so secret lover. His mind wandered over divorce, but he was too prideful to let it happen. He didn’t care about your needs, shameful desires, he wanted to keep his family together. Even if it meant to ruin your sweet secret life. And he knew his plan was working the minute you stepped into your home through the threshold, sobbing quietly, with your dress soaked through, droplets of water dripping down your hair. His lips curling into smirk, he took the last sip of his drink, leaving the glass on the coffee table in the living room, walking slowly to the hallway.

You kicked off your heels, running your hands through your wet hair, wiping off your tears along the way, your mascara staining your cheeks. Feeling how your dress is sticking to your body, you let out a frustrated sigh with a whine, finally noticing George standing in the doorway, his arms folded over his chest wearing an unreadable expression.

“What’s the matter baby?” his tone was laced with smugness, he couldn’t hold it back anymore, seeing the mess you were.

“Nothing.” you muttered, trying to walk around him to get to the bathroom, but he was after you.

“You’re clearly distressed. Tell me what happened. You were supposed to have a night out with girls, if I remember correctly?” yeah, he was playing dumb.

“I was. But my car left me in the parking lot, because the smoke started to go out of the engine and I needed to call the towing service and-” you stopped in your rant abruptly as you got to the part you wanted to erase from your memory and you didn’t want to talk about it with George.

“And? Tell me darling.” his tone was firm, demanding, he caged your body against the counter in the bathroom.

You looked up to see his face, locking your gaze with his, reading his mind. He knew. And yet he was still there.

“He left me.” with your head slumped down you whispered feeling deeply ashamed. 

George smiled victoriously as the memory from earlier this week flashed through his mind, him paying that pathetic lover of yours loads of money to leave you, to ruin you, to destroy you.

“Oh baby.” he cooed sweetly, cupping that mascara stained cheeks of yours, listening to your sobs. And that was the last straw and you broke down in tears, all of the suppressed emotions flowing out as you wrapped your arms around him tightly, remorse and guilt building in your heart. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry…” you whispered into his chest, your tears staining his shirt. 

“Shhh… I’m right here baby. It’s okay.” his fingers brushed through your hair affectionately, making you relax.

“You should be disgusted with me…” 

“Believe me, I was at first. But from your point of view I somehow understood it.” 

“How… How long have you known?”

“Since the first time you giggled at your phone.”

“I thought that I’m good at hiding it.” 

“Oh, you were so naive that I won’t notice. You weren’t even creative at hiding your car properly. That exclusive red shade of it doesn't go unnoticed. Even our son saw you many times.” 

You shuddered when you felt his lips ghosting against your temple. The mention of your son stabbed you through your heart. 

“George, I-” 

“Shhh, darling. Your stupid boyfriend ditched you, so let your husband, the man who truly knows how to devour you, take care of you.” George whispered with a soft hum, his lips pressed under your ear.

The way he talked made you feel ashamed. But it ignited something within you, the lust and desire for him. And it made you curse internally at how dumb you were for the past years.

“I’m gonna make sure you remember who you belong to.” 

After the night to remember when George really took you like a slut you were, listening to your whines and moans, making you tell him how that lover made you feel, what he did to you, he made sure that you won’t escape his embrace again. Watching you sleep beside him, your body covered in love bruises and marks he hasn’t seen on you for months, he brushed the strand of your hair from your face, smiling proudly at how easy you were. All those years he thought you’re this soft and reserved girl who likes vanilla in bed, only to find out that you loved to be cock drunk all the time, overstimulated to the madness to keep your mind from wandering outside of the wedlock. 

“You were so wrong to think that I’d let you go, my beautiful wife…” and his whisper lingered through your sleeping brain like a lullaby.

-

Please don't use my writings without a permission. Pictures found on Pinterest.

Tags: @chilling-seavey

[zorosangell]

I’ll request for Cora then! I don’t really know what to request tho 🤔 but I love all your writing so I’m sure I’ll love whatever you write. how about just general headcanons? thank you! ❤️

⛥ﾟ・。corazon general and specific headcanons

synopsis: just some headcanons for the nine-foot tall blonde of my dreams

cw: none

a/n: this was so fun to write! thanks anon for the ask. i think i'm gonna open up my inbox for headcanons on other characters like kid or law or whatever

a/n 2: stay safe and rive carefully y'all. happy new year <3

general headcanons (you both are in a relationship)

— while i've seen others view cora as an overall shy, introverted person, i actually think the opposite, at least in some cases

— granted, he's not shouting from the mountain tops or actively going out of his way to talk to others, he is very extroverted with the people he knows and trusts

— like you, queen <3

— he likes to tell jokes and use his clumsiness to make you laugh, even if it isn't on purpose most of the time

— and when you do, he feels like he's on top of the world

— he's also very protective of you

— certain things in your relationship he likes to take a back seat on, but your safety is not one of them

— he's seen some things, and he'll be damned if something happens to you because of his negligence

— in a crowded room, he'll position himself behind you, acting as a guard dog as he keeps tabs on all possible threats

— in a bar, he'll keep a watchful eye on your drink and make sure an arm is around your waist at all times

— on the sidewalk, he will always, always make sure he's on the street side

— but that ties in with him being a perfect gentleman

— that being said... YOU NEVER HAVE TO PAY FOR ANYTHING

— actually gets offended if you try

— you're his lady; when you're with him, you don't lift a finger

— he may be on a marine's salary but when it comes to you he acts as if he has all the money in the world

— loves to splurge on you

"aw, baby, look! that necklace would look great on you, wouldn't it!"

"cora, honey, it's 90,000 berries... and you just got me a 70,000 berry bracelet last week"

"and?"

— honestly not very opinionated, doesn't really have many preferences when it comes to material things

— often has you order for him at restaurants, or pick out his clothes for the day

— hates arguing and fighting in general (though arguments are few and far between for you both anyway)

— if you don't like kids, that might be a bit of a deal breaker, seeing as law is a large part of his life

— not only that, but if you just are not a kind or decent person, this is not the man for you

— but trust, if you hit it off with law, you will have this man's heart forever (easier said than done tho)

specific headcanon (story-ish i guess)

— for the sake of whatever, let's say you're the nurse of doflamingo's crew (by circumstance, you're still a good person)

— when you first joined, cora was floored by your beauty; like actually, he fell flat on his face when doflamingo introduced you to the crew

— he was baffled that someone like you was a pirate, and even more so when you opened your mouth to reveal that you were incredibly kind and warm hearted

— (he would later learn that you had been blackmailed by his brother into joining the crew—the warlord promised no harm would come to your family if you joined him)

— initially, he was both enamored and suspicious, seeing as only those with cruel intentions joined his brother's crew

— but as time went by, he was quick to learn that it was quite the opposite, and quick to grow a certain fondness for you

— i imagine cora as a slow burner, so of course all of this happens over a decent amount of time

— but within that time you manage to weasel your way into his heart

— being the ship's nurse, you are always tasked with patching him up after his mishaps

— even though you do slip up and let out a chuckle or two, it never comes from a place of malice, unlike the others

— and even still, you scold and warn him about being careful around fires and hot liquids

— though, most of the time, it goes in one ear and out the other

— sometimes he's too preoccupied with your soft hands on him, or your pretty eyes locked with his

— sidebar: he blushes like a school girl because of his fair skin, i'm talking full on tomato

— anyway, it isn't long before you two become incredibly close

— communicating is a bit of a hassle given his silence, but he appreciates your constant effort

— he makes a point to keep you as far away from doflamingo as possible, often sending you on "errands" to avoid the two of you from interacting

— and when he can't do that, he floats around, not straying too far away as his brother pulls you aside for a chat or asks you to check a pain on his abdomen (barf)

— that doesn't just apply for his brother, btw

— he does that for everyone on the crew, executive or not

— no one gets you on your own without him knowing about it

— on the outside looking in it might sound stalker-ish, but in his mind he justified it as performing his duty as a marine

— all he was doing was protecting a helpless... sweet-smelling... adorably-laughing... angel-looking... young woman

— but in actuality, he was protecting his dream girl

— his dream girl who absolutely loves kids! (if you don't, then, once again, cora might not be the one for you)

— you always treat baby 5 and buffalo with such kindness, even when they act like little monsters; making sure they take their baths, making sure they eat, giving them their monthly check-ups

— it's one of the many things cora loves about your personality

— as well as nurse, you play the role of nanny to the kids onboard

— and your mothering only expands when law and dellinger join the crew

— fast forward to when cora is about to take law away, he comes to you first, severely surprising you by reciting a passionate dissertation as to why you should join him

— he couldn't imagine leaving you behind in the clutches of his brother; no protection, no one to shield you from the horrors of the family

— so it was only natural that his heart fell to his ass when you declined, but your reasoning was that doflamingo still had your family hostage

— though, on one particular night, when you had happened to walk past the door to his study, you overheard him talking to the other executives about how gullible you were, as he had killed your family years ago

— distraught, you ran away with cora and law that night

— and it was bbq chicken from there...

[davidisnotmyname]

MAJOR FUCKING SPOILERS FOR THE SEVENTH COMIC (also this post is really long be warned)

Okay I wanted to give my thoughts on the seventh comic because I, a sleep deprived teenager with absolutely no knowledge on comic making or writing, feel that my opinion is logical and good /s

First off, my immediate reactions to the comic:

OH MY FUCKING GOD THATS A CHILD. THATS SOLDIER’S AND ZHANNA’S CHILD. THATS THEIR BABY. WHAT THE FUCK

the second I saw this shit I knew this comic was gonna give me an aneurysm (in a good way).

waitasecond…

THERESTWOOFTHEMOHMYGOD (also im so fucking happy that the joke I see in fan media a lot about Soldier naming his kids stuff like that is officially canon)(also east meets west fans were eating good this comic)

I like that the comic creators have put so much focus on Spy and Miss Pauling’s relationship. Not only is their dynamic great, but it shows that Spy isn’t a heartless jackass and he not only genuinely cares about the people around him, but can and will show it (I mean most of us knew that already but… someeeee people have fallen victim to the temptations of flanderization)

you’re gonna see this come up a lot in my rambling but I fucking love the shit the mercs are doing in the background, their expressions are so funny: Heavy is sick of their shit

Demo is asleep

Scout can’t breathe

Spy is also sick of their shit

Medic (and that godforsaken baby baboon) is sightseeing

Pyro is having the time of their life

and Sniper and Pauling are just trying to make sure they don’t all fucking crash and die

This is irrelevant as fuck (but most of the stuff I say is) but I just wanted to bring up how much I liked the secretary’s design. It’s very pleasing to look at.

They are like ants to me. I want to put them in a jar with holes in the lid and a bunch of leaves and then roll them down the stairs

I know this might not be what the scene is trying to imply, but fuck yeah, lesbianism (also thank god they gave Scout some semblance of character development, they are very cute as friends)

more background mercs. Medic and Pyro in particular have me in hysterics (this comic has so much good shit I can use for my discord pfp). Also Demoman my belemoman

GOD I FUCKING LOVE THE CHARACTER DESIGNS SO MUCH, thank you young Administrator for reminding me that I am in fact gay in every direction. RIP Admin, she served cunt and died

Get that fucking thing away from me

MAKAMI!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!!!! THIS SHIT BELONGS IN THE LOUVRE!!!!!!! THIS IS GENUINELY THE MOST INCREDIBLE PANEL IN ALL OF THE COMICS, I AM AWESTRUCK

Yet again more background mercs. They saw your AO3 history.

okay I was gonna say something but my phone flagged this image as nudity for some fucking reason? What

anyways, as I was saying:

GAY (guys listen it’s canon okay you have to believe me guys wait come back no wait)

also my first thought when I saw this was “heavy is trying to hold him back from doing weird shit to the corpses,” and I don’t care how anyone else interprets it because I am objectively the most correct /j

also looking back at this I’m realizing heavy’s hands are almost the size of medic’s entire torso lmao tf2 isn’t beating the yaoi hand accusations

I’m actually gonna be sick and die oh my god what the fuck is wrong with me

I’m not gonna put all of the panels cuz I feel like it’ll get annoying quick + the image limit, but the whole series of Pauling just standing there as the Admin is cosplaying a Nature Valley Honey and Oats Bar while everyone slowly trickles out of the room just hits so hard and so good. These comics are such a compelling narrative disguised as a series of shitposts and I’m all for it.

MISS P. NAME DROP???!!!!! (Also can we get an F in the chat for all the Francine Pauling truthers)

He is literally her dad I don’t make the rules (also yes I’m aware that it’s stated that he’s her legal guardian literally two panels later so this joke really isn’t funny, but none of my jokes are so what’s your point)

Yet another casual masterpiece by Makami, with the added bonus of the subject being a beautiful hairy old man who’s built like a fucking brick house. Heavy Weapons Guy TF2 I wish you were real. Also bearded heavy goes hard, i need to cook him into a fucking soup oh my god

Hey chat so did you know I’m actually going to be inconsolable for the next three years. Also this is obviously photoshopped we all know his last name is Elbertson (no but seriously I actually started running around my room and rolling on the floor when I got to yet another name drop)

Okay, I need to either say this now or have it fester in my psyche for eternity. That haircut gave me physical and psychic damage when I first saw it. Scout tf2, you’re ugly as shit but that’s honestly poggers, welcome to the club man (also oh my god he looks so much like Jerma I’m screaming, but Jerma isn’t ugly though I promise I would never diss my king like that)

Nobody talk to me

I SAID NOBODY FUCKING TALK TO ME

spy with his granddaughter, he loves her so much but still can’t bring himself to reveal who he truly is. I actually can’t fucking do this anymore this comic is gonna have me keel over and die of a heart attack

That’s it. Get in the fucking wood chipper right now /j seriously though I can’t even begin to explain how much this scene means to me. Spydad was one of the main things that got me so interested in tf2 over a year ago, and seeing him and Scout not only being civil about it, but genuinely caring about each other is everything. I’ve never been one for spydad angst (no shade if you do like it, I just personally prefer happier stuff), so I’m glad that this was the route the comics took with that plot point.

also don’t think I’m not gonna bring up the fucking mask. after seventeen years, we finally have spy’s face. Not only that, but the reveal was done through him giving it to his granddaughter. It’s done in such a casual and sweet way but it’s so impactful. He can be vulnerable around these people. This man, who’s spent his life building up walls around himself, refusing to let anyone through to the point of wearing that stinky ass balaclava everywhere, can now freely live as himself with his son and grandchildren. I’m gonna start eating screws I swear to god.

oh fuck I hit image limit hang on I have a little bit more to say check the reblogs the rest of my descent into madness will be present there shortly.

[hugemilkshake]

hii! okay sooo....

seeing you write a Yandere Ancients x Reader....that got me thinking....what if it was the Dragons? YANDERE dragons? OMG SCREAMS AAAAAAAARGRHRGRRGRH ( im obsessed...i love yanderes sm they make me crazy MUAHAHHA i crave for more yandere dragon cookies content YUMMY )

same plot, basically the dragons (yandere) react to reader's rejection to them and pushes them away or something? or what if reader prefers someone else? i would really LOVE to see their reactions heh....IF U SEE THIS I BEG OF YOU- it would be the happiest moments of my LIFE if u do this RAHHHH anyways...THANKIE AND GOODBAI COOL PERSON !1!1 *skedaddles away*

(ok seriously i love they way u write the dragons. i crave more of ur amazing content hshshshsh)

Enjoy the milkshake! I’m a slow writer lololol and also my jaw hurts-

I would do Lychee and Longan but I can’t think of any ideas for them rn </3

Pitaya, Ananas and Lotus getting rejected

-Romantic-

!TW! Under the cut there will be stuff like guilt tripping, arson, punishing innocent people, forced starvation, implied cheating, manipulation and obsessive behaviors

Pitaya Dragon

You were already happy with the cookie you were with, your life was practically perfect.

But The Great Red Dragon thought that you’d drop everything just to be with them. I mean imagine being with one of the strongest characters on earthbread! You’d be treated well!

But… your more loyal than the dragon thought.. Your loyalty was something admirable but Pitaya hated that it wasn’t for them. You saw the dragon try to play it off normally but there was and underlying rage.

A month goes by you lived your normal life, the confession occasional coming up in your thoughts. Today was an average day, a clear sky and cool wind.

But then… you smelt it… smoke..

Smoke and the stench of burnt butter. You eyes gaze up at the sky and you see the smoke drifting across the blue sky, staining it in a dark gray. You look and spot that the smoke is coming from the local village, that same village your partner was visiting…

—————————————

When you rejected Pitaya, they were very angry. For days they burned and destroyed their cave.

But after they cooled down a bit they cleaned their cave up. Not because they accepted your rejection, but because they had a plan

They see how horrified you were at the sight of burnt cookies and homes, but most importantly… your partner being held up by the collar.

You had an ultimatum. Either save your partner and go with Pitaya or you let your partner and more cookies die, I mean… you wouldn’t want to be the cause of so many deaths right?

If you go with Pitaya, you are always in their vicinity. The dragon is quite clingy to you. They have their tail wrapped around time or your resting in their lap

They feel a little bad for forcing you to come with them, but not bad enough to let you go.

Ananas Dragon

A rejection to The Golden Dragon is quite the insult, but a rejection in favor for another? That’s just blasphemy.

After your rejection, your tribe started to suffer. Fruit stoped being produced, fish avoided the tribes hunting grounds and cookies started getting sick.

No one knows why, other tribes aren’t experiencing this, so why is yours?

Some cookies start to suspect that you have something to do with it, why else are there so many golden treasures and trinkets around your home?

Some cookies think about sacrificing you to the Golden Dragon, others think you did something to anger the dragon… which is exactly what Ananas Dragon wants…

—————————————

Your rejection was the most disrespectful thing Ananas Dragon has heard. I mean, you would be spoiled in riches beyond your wildest dreams! And yet, you choose some.. BORING old cookie over them?! Blasphemy.

The only thing that they could think of is to punish you. Your tribe had it good for too long. It’s time to bring some trouble.

All food sources started to die out. Anything you’d grow would die, all and any fish would be no where to be found.

Cookies of your tribe had to start rationing food and even eating plants that wouldn’t be considered edible, just to avoid starvation.

But due to the food situation, cookies were starting to get sick.

But while this happened, the more gold was left at your house. Cookies started to think you had something to do with this

The more who think you did something… the quicker Ananas Dragon will get you in their grasp…

Lotus Dragon

This confession didn’t happen immediately. It happened when you were head over heels. Yes, you have a partner but that doesn’t mean you can’t fall for someone else right?

It’s slow but Lotus is very patient. They can wait for their wish to come true. But while they’re waiting… why don’t you listen to them play their mandolin for a bit?

Don’t worry about your partner! They didn’t think about coming with you, they might not be as loyal as you think… but that’s probably not the case!

Right..?

—————————————

Lotus knows you’re loyal to your partner, and they know that you’d reject them, so unlike some other dragons, they would make you and your partner fall out of love.

Friendship. That’s where all love usually starts.

To befriend a dragon is quite a great feat. Others are envious and amazed at your friendship with the wish giving dragon

But… Lotus whispers doubts about your partner… like why don’t they spend time with you? They don’t seem to notice when you’re upset so why do they stay with you?

And unknown to you (and lotus) cookies tell your partner that they aren’t good enough for you since you are apparently friends with a dragon.

In a matter of time… you and your partner are broken up and you actually accept Lotus Dragons confession

But be warned… if you even come close to figuring out that they aided in breaking you and your partner up… you might get locked up…

[biancasaidstfu]

As with most things in life, I suspect the truth is somewhere in the middle. I know there’s a lot going on behind the scenes, but I really don’t care or want to know about any of that. I’m curious and sat here a year later because of the information they themselves have put out into the world.

I always loved them as Colin and Pen and Clare, but like most of us just thought they seemed like great people with insane chemistry in their real-life interactions. But as each day goes by, I unfortunately start to lose some of that original admiration and respect. I fear that they’ve painted themselves so far into a corner that they are looking rather disingenuous no matter the truth. They feed us hints that only we would know and then immediately land a left hook. 

The main reason I’m still interested at all in Lukola is I’m astounded daily at the dumb decisions being made and presented to the public. Sure some of it comes from other “sources” but it always feels coordinated to some extent. Yes, it keeps a small portion of us in this little corner talking but at what expense? I mean they are being made to look foolish whether it’s self-inflicted or on “advice” from PR reps. And I hate that I’m constantly cringing on their behalf. As a fan, I want better for them.

Yesterday for me was different, though. So we get fed the usual breadcrumb story post that life is sweet with a “mystery man.” There’s only one that I know of who happens to love both coffee and cake (literally Tiramisu) and is always cut out of photos. Sure it could be the “other one”, but in my opinion it was intended to indicate our favorite. 

Yes, we’ve been trolled A LOT but I just don’t think this was the intent for once. I mean we did know the left hook was coming and of course my stomach dropped seeing the photo yesterday. I just can’t imagine they would want that kind of image out there after the hell of last summer. It just doesn’t make sense to me in light of the the recent INSTA professional clean-up. Unless they knew it was coming and weren’t happy about it. That photo wasn’t professional or fun in any way, shape or form and definitely not giving James Bond vibes. 

Anyway, this is just a long-winded way of saying that yes it’s very possible to still be a fan but also criticize choices being made no matter the actual intention. I know there’s a lot we don’t know about certain people also involved but our favorite couple aren’t victims either. They agreed to this to some extent. As of right now, none of this is believable to those of us who have lived life and have a functioning brain. 

It’s just a watch and see what’s next type of thing now. Thanks for your thoughts anon 💙

[a-b-riddle]

Different Tastes: John & his Sweetheart

The '141' stops as soon as they are back home. After that, they are just close friends. Simon, John, Kyle and Johnny had managed to settle down and find themselves sweet little things. All who adore their brave men and all who share different tastes

In this 'series', it's essentially bits of each of the 141 one and their kinks they have with their partners. With that being said, I don't really care if you think that Soap is submissive or Ghost is into CNC/Primal play. That's great. But in this fantasy, this is what it is. It's what I wanted to write. If you want Kyle Garrick to be a pleasure Dom and John to be a Daddy Dom. Cool. Go find other fictions that write that, or be the one to write them. I'm not going to argue about what kinks they would really have.

CW: NSFW. aniligus on male and female anatomy. D/s dynamics. Name calling. Degradation. Oral. Humiliation. Aftercare. Mentions of pornography. Not establishing safe-words. Poor understanding of establishing BDSM boundaries too late. (Not in a non-con way. But two people who don't really have prior experience to BDSM).

MINORS DNI

John and his girl are perfect for each other. For his career, it's very difficult to turn the Captain mode 'off'. He's used to giving orders and taking control over situations. It had been a problem in all of his previous relationships.

So when he found you, his perfect girl, he would have moved the moon if it meant making you happy. Add into the fact that you did like to switch your brain on autopilot and let John control mostly everything, it worked out well for both of you.

Where do you want to eat tonight?

What do you think I should wear?

I'm getting kind of sick of my hair? What do you think? Longer, shorter? Darker? Lighter?

You always relied on his opinion and followed it.

John couldn't get enough. You never got sick of hearing his thoughts and opinions. You didn't get pissed when he gave you what sounded very much like an order. To you it was John being John. He didn’t simply stop being a Captain when he wasn’t in the field and you were content with that. Liked it even.

But soon enough his bossing around had taken you both down a slippery slope. You had always wanted to explore BDSM and each order in your everyday life made you fantasize about John as a Dominant. Your sex life with John was already fantastic and he always took the lead anyway. So it felt only natural to add-in some kinkier aspects. John wasn't opposed to tying you up. Dishing out occasional discipline when you did something wrong until you ultimately admitted you hated it.

You felt when he 'punished' you, you disappointed him. John's palms started to itch when you confessed that you would much rather him spank you simply because he wanted to. So he did. Whenever he pleased. Often bending you over the counter and giving you a few swats. Your pussy already dripping for him by the time he was finished.

Deeper and deeper you dove down to more than just tying you up and spanking your ass until your juices practically leaked down to your thighs. Service submission had been what you liked the most. If John told you to be on your knees when he got home with a whiskey neat in one hand and a plate of food in the other, you did it.

When you told him this, he started casually mentioning what kind of wedding ring styles you liked.

Eventually you admitted you like being degraded.

"I know you love me," you said one night. Lazily sitting on the couch with John after a dinner date with Kyle and his girlfriend. "And respect me." Butterflies fluttered uncomfortably in your stomach. You didn’t want John to think you liked being abused per se, but this is something you’ve wanted to try with him for so long. "but I don't always need to feel like I’m respected during sex."

John didn't pull his arm off of you as he turned to face you better. His head tilting to the side when he asked you to elaborate. You felt your cheeks heat up as you told him how you wanted him to treat you like a toy. That during a scene, you wanted to feel like he had total control over your body. You could outline actions and phrases you were okay with if it made him feel better about doing it. Even developing safe words.

There hadn't been a need for safe words up until this point. If you asked John to stop, he stopped. If you complained about something hurting, he still stopped and either readjusted, or ended the scene. But this time you confessed that you didn't want ‘no’ to be an option. No felt like you weren't being his good girl. You knew it didn’t make you bad for stopping but it just helped in some weird way you couldn’t quite explain.

He agreed. First came the colors. Then the limits. And most importantly, the fantasies.

After that John finally admitted that he wanted to try anal play on you since you didn't list it as a limit. He’s always fantasized about it, but he had always felt uncomfortable asking you. At first you thought he simply meant a finger up your ass. Some poking and prodding that led up to anal.

However, with the new found confidence to truly divulge his desires to you. John laid it all out.

Price knows what he likes and he absolutely loves worshipping any part of you he can get his hands or mouth on.

The first time he ate your ass it quite literally stole your breath. He had you bent over his desk; his scattered reports long forgotten. You had just gotten home from work. He heard the opening and shutting of the door before grabbing his phone. He had texted you to come into his office in 30 minutes.

Your outfit is on the bed. I’m in my office. Bring me a drink. Daddy feels like drinking some whiskey and eating a peach.

That was your signal. You were a nervous fucking wreck as you got ready.

Before you knew it, he had you bent over with two fingers in your cunt, rubbing that sweet spot while his tongue explored a place no one else ever had.

Months laters, neither of you were no longer shy about John taking you however he wanted. Whether that was hogtied with your ass in the air or you humping his boot when he ordered you to show him how much of a desperate little slut you were.

He loved seeing you so desperate for him. He was obsessed in the way you tensed when he had you bent over. Licking a long stripe from your clit all the way to your puckered hole before settling there.

What was once an occasional thing became a weekly occurrence.

As expected, the two of you eventually tried anal after realizing how good his tongue felt in your ass. The first time he fucked your ass he spent what felt like forever working his thick fingers inside of you before finally working your way up to take his cock. He refused to have such an intimate first thing be in any sort of scenario where he wasn't soft and loving. If you wanted it to be degrading, it would just have to wait.

John was a stern man, but he took care of you. This wasn't something that would be initially pleasant for you and he was damned and determined to make this a good experience by the end of it.

Because of the lack of pressure he put on you to just take it, you had loved it. Even craved it now. You loved when he called you a pathetic little whore after you followed his order of bending over and spreading your ass cheeks for him. You loved when he told you how pretty you looked before landing a glob of spit on your puckered asshole. You loved how he made you beg him to fuck your ass when it was that time of the month; that you were so desperate for his cock you will take it in any hole.

But funny enough, as much quality time John seemed to have with your asshole, you can't really remember if you've ever seen his. Sure, you’ve seen his bare ass sauntering around the house and in the shower, but he’s never been in a compromising position while naked.

Even funnier, you're not sure if you've ever really seen a guy's asshole. So down the rabbit hole of pornhub you went until you found what eating ass was also known as.

Rimming.

And more importantly, how men were rimmed. Your curiosity had eventually grown to wondering what it was like. What would it be like?

So you just asked him.

At first he laughed, assuming you were joking. But then you shamelessly admitted to finding it hot. You confessed how the porn you’ve been watching had pretty much centered around male worship. Although the underarm area and feet were usually something you skipped over, seeing women on their knees giving rimjobs was something that made your core ache when you thought about doing it with John.

To say he was flustered was an understatement. He tried to dissuade you. Insisting that it was, well, gross were his exact words. When a flash of hurt crossed your face he realized his mistake.

It wasn’t that he thought the act itself was gross per se. He felt as though he was gross. "Too gross to let a pretty little thing like you do that." Yet it didn’t deter you from showing him how much you wanted him.

With a little bit of assurance that it’s something you wanted to do, not just reciprocate what he had been doing, he relented. Although, having you on your knees, hump his boot practically begging to with tears in your eyes did make him believe you actually wanted this. John loved when you begged him, but always felt the need to tell you yes when he wasn't serving as your dominant.

Yes. John loved taking charge, but he hated telling you no when you hardly ever asked for anything.

So. It was a safety measure John and you had put into place. When you wanted something that he may say no to because he felt as if it would degrade you as a partner, you didn’t ask as his partner; you asked as his submissive. This put in the acknowledgment that he wasn't making the decision as a partner. John was going to do what he thought best, whether or not you agreed to it. You always set the precent, gave him the permission to be the one to make the decisions. It showed him that you trusted him and whatever he decided.

John always felt more freely when you had gotten in your sub space. He felt more confident in telling you no or giving you orders. He had spent so long being the one to call the shots in his career, he was always afraid of his domineering nature taking control in the relationship.

Your confidence in him meant everything.

He had just gotten home from an extended stay on base. Usually you were able to get a facetime or a call here and there, but besides the occasional texts you were met with radio silence for almost five days.

It wasn't until he came home Saturday just before lunch. You had snacked all day, suddenly feeling guilty you hadn't even gotten groceries for the week. You offered to order something when he told you he hadn't eaten lunch, but he declined.

"C'mere, sweetheart." He ordered pointing right at his boots. A soft smile played on his lips as you sank down to your knees and crawled over to him. John took a deep breath. Reminding himself he can't fuck you right now. Not when he finally built up the courage to do what he was about to do.

“I need to freshen up." He said, squatting down until he was almost eye level with you. "Open." He ordered. Without hesitation, you opened your mouth, tongue out prepared to let him do whatever he wanted. He gently grabbed your tongue, holding it between his thumb and finger before giving it a light squeeze. Drool already slipping out of your mouth. "When I get out of the shower, I expect you to be in our room, on all fours with this pretty little tongue to worship me. Understand, sweetheart?"

Your eyes widened as you felt your core involuntarily clenching around nothing. Fuck. This was so hot. Fuck. This was happening. It was happening.

John stood at his full height before heading to the master bedroom. You waited until you heard the clicking of the door before practically sprinting behind him.

You sat on your knees, anxiously listening to the sound of the running water from the bathroom. You wondered how he would discuss it. Both of you played out possible scenarios and weeded out ones you were absolutely not okay with doing.

One scenario you agreed on was you laying on your back with your head hanging off the bed. John would face fuck you for a bit before he got into a sixty-nine position. He would have the view of you playing with your greedy little pussy. You would lap at him like a pathetic whore while he stroked his cock before he finally came all over your tits.

One thing John didn't feel comfortable doing was simply bending over on his hands and knees. Hiking up a leg, sure. But something about the position made him feel vulnerable and he just didn't want to try it.

Waiting patiently by the foot of the bed. On your hands and knees like a good girl, you head the water shut off.

Fresh out of the shower, John walked over to you before sitting down on the bed. You waited for his order. Never jumping the gun and simply taking him the moment he waved his cock in front of your face.

He spread his thighs apart, letting his limp cock hang near the edge of the bed. "Put my cock in your mouth, but don't suck. Just want you to warm him up a bit." You immediately take him in your mouth without hesitation. Loving the way you feel his cock slowly harden.

You maintain eye contact, trying hard not to move your tongue. Fighting every urge to start sucking and being a good little whore. When he finally give you permission, he still sets the pace. His hand firm on the back of your neck.

"Go at your own pace, sweetheart." He said, kissing your forehead. "Just remember," He reminded, his voice still gentle. "Mo fingers and stop if you need to, yeah?" You nod, remembering that he's doing this for you.

He scooted down further on the bed before laying on his back. Legs spread.

You weren't really sure where to start. So you just started slow. Built up to the same way John did to you when he was the one licking your ass. You started with soft kisses. Letting your teeth graze over the skin of his thighs, getting closer and closer to where you wanted to be.

You felt him stiffen as you got closer. You gave a soft kiss before waiting for him to tell you to stop.

He doesn't.

You continue.

You start soft. Closing your eyes and licking and mouthing at his asshole like you were making out with it.

"Fuck." You hear him curse, but he doesn't tell you to stop.

"Can I please rub my pussy, Sir?" You asked, your hands aching to touch your wet cunt.

"Yes." He granted, his hand starting to slowly stroke his cock. "But you still need permission to cum." He reminded before closing his eyes and letting you continue.

With low curses and gasps falling from his mouth you became more and more enthralled. Your face pressing harder and harder against him. Trying to get your tongue as deep inside him as you possibly could.

The humiliation of it all making you feel already so close to falling over the edge. Your fingers rubbed methodical circles around your clit as you began mindlessly nodding your head along, tongue sticking out; lapping at his asshole like the stupid little bitch you were.

“You like that, huh? Licking me like the dirty little slut that you are." He said, knowing that was something you wanted to be told.

“Yes, Sir." You admitted, only breaking away briefly to answer him before resuming servicing him.

“Damn fucking right.” He growled out. "That's my good little whore. Worshipping my fucking asshole." His words made you clench around nothing. Making you wish you had asked to use a dildo or the fucking machine instead.

Next time. You thought.

"Can-fuck-" He pants tugging harder at his cock, his orgasm building. "Can I push your head, sweetheart?" It wasn't something the two of you had went over, but he wanted to be sure. During blowjobs were fine, but you had never done this before.

"Yes! Please!" You pant out before feeling his hand grab a hold of the back of your head and pulling you deeper into him.

You manage to spit, making it sloppier, wetter. Easier for you face to glide and knowing it probably felt better for him too. It's not too long before Price finds himself grinding pathetically against your face. "Fuck, sweetheart." He pants. "Fuck that feels so good."

You could barely breathe. Your mouth too busy lapping away at his asshole to bother breathing. Your nose pressed too hard against his taint to get any air. You decided if this is how you die... well, you wouldn't hate it. Hard

"Can I cum? Can I cum?" You repeated. Your voice muffled, but John knew what you wanted.

"Cum, but don't you fucking stop." He ordered. His grip tightening, legs beginning to tense. "I'm so close. Don't stop, sweetheart."

You kept going. Your jaw beginning to become sore as you kept going. Not even stopping when you felt John's body shake. Not stopping when your own orgasm took hold of you. Tears falling from the intensity of it all.

Not stopping when you heard him release a string of curses and praises. Not stopping when you felt his cum landing on the top of your head. Only slowing when he began to relax. Only stopping until he finally pulled you away.

You sat on your heels. Hands placed on your thighs. Waiting for him to look up at you. You were in position just waiting for fall apart. Trying so hard to be his good girl.

Finally he collected himself enough to manage to sit up. He looked down at you, marveling at the sight.

Mascara smeared. Face covered in spit. His cum now dripping from your head down to your face. Fuck, you looked beautiful.

Fuck.

Your hair.

Was that something you agreed on doing?

Fuck.

You had both agreed on him coming in you, on your face, tits, pussy or ass. Hell, you even agreed to lick it off of him or if any of it fell onto the hardwood. But you never went over if coming in your hair.

"Sorry, sweetheart." He apologized, swiping at a string of cum on your eye brown, threatening to make its' way into your pretty eyes. "Should have asked if your hair was okay." You smiled hazily at his concern, but honestly thought it was a little funny. This man pushed your face into his asshole while he called you filthy things and he was worried that you were concerned over a little cum in your hair.

"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" All you could do was nod as John hauled you to your feet and practically carrying you to the shower.

Tenderly, he got the oil based cleanser and began to clean your face as gentle as he could. It wasn’t methodical and not necessarily the best way, but he was too worried about rubbing your face too harshly knowing how raw it probably felt.

You didn’t care. You always marveled in the tenderness of his touch after an intense scene. Basked in his words of praise and adoration after he debased and dehumanized you. It was therapeutic. To be taken so low only to have the same man build you back up.

He spoke lowly in your ear. “Did so well for me, sweet girl.” After he ran the soft spray of water over your face, he pulled you tightly to his chest. You felt his lips press on your wet hair. “Made me feel so fucking good.”

You felt your knees weaken, but John continued to pamper you. Being sure to take extra care in washing your face again until at the remanets of your messed up make up was gone.

"You liked it?" You asked, closing in your eyes. Relishing in his touch.

"Yes, baby." He answered. "I loved it." Your chest swelled with pride. He liked it. He liked your fantasy too.

"Would you wanna do it again?" You asked, praying the answer was yes.

"I'd love that." You hummed in contentment as he turned you around, now starting on your hair.

Although John had never came in your hair before, he had learned your washing routine to the point of perfection and honestly his touch felt so much better than your own. It was a way of aftercare now, but initially he learned when you had hit a sub drop.

Neither of you knew that it even existed before it was too late. And two days after an intense scene you still hadn't washed your hair.

When he finally finished, he grabbed one of the microfiber towels you used to dry your hair. He methodically and gently squeezed out the access water before wrapping you in a huge towel. He stayed behind in the shower for only a minute to wash away your spit before joining you.

He took your hand, leading you to the sinks before turning you around to face him. You hated this part. It was when you were the most exhausted and you wanted to just crawl into bed. "Gotta dry it, Sweetheart." He said, sitting you down on the bathroom counter. "Just relax. Let me handle it."

So you did. You let John handle it. Let him have the power. It always worked out better for you anyway.

Eventually, John was satisfied and picked you back up. You were half asleep, barely holding on when he tucked you in. He pulled your back close to his chest.

It was nearing the end of your aftercare. John was scrolling on doordash, trying to find something that would be good to eat as he always did, asking for input. Sometimes you offered it. Mostly you said anything he wanted was fine. He always made sure it would be delivered after an hour. Giving you enough time to bask in the post-coital cuddles.

He continued talking. How much he enjoyed it. What he wouldn't mind trying next. Your eye were growing heavier and heavier the more he spoke. A brief moment of silence passed before he spoke again.

“You know,” he started. “Johnny was mentioning something about pet play with his girl.” It wasn't surprising. The four men of the 141 weren't shy in telling the others what them and the missus had been up to in the bedroom. Even going as far as to let the girls play together, but making it a point to never share.

None of them had any interest in letting another man touch what belonged to them, but they didn't mind letting the girls indulge in a little girl time.

“Heaven knows that MacTavish needs to be collared.” You said, feeling the edges of sleep beginning to take over your vision. You tried to stifle a yawn as you spoke, to no avail while John barked out a laugh.

“Who says Johnny's the dog?” He asked.

[polarity-disturbed]

The set design of the Rani’s Bone Palace bothers me.

This is a very specific part of Wish World/The Reality world that’s been bothering me. And since I haven’t seen anyone else talking about it, I’m going to assume it’s a “me” problem. Then again—what is this blog for other than my twisted rambles from my weary mind.

It really started to itch at my brain when I watched Doctor Who: Unleashed, and they offered this as a direct quote explaining the set's design choices:

“There’s a lot of bird references in it. A lot of avian references.” “Okay. That’s interesting. Why did you go with birds?” “We just thought they looked cool. We just thought they looked great.” - exact moment here

I... I just... okay.

Listen. My degree is in technical theatre design. I usually live in the world of sound and lighting—that’s my happy place. But I have designed sets professionally, and I cannot stress this enough: “we thought it looked cool” is not a valid primary reason to design anything in a narrative medium. That may be part of the process, but it should never be the foundation.

Set design is an extension of character and story. The environment should reflect something about the world or the people who inhabit it. It’s not just aesthetic; it’s psychology, geography, history, and intention.

We arrange our environments both consciously and subconsciously. Our spaces reveal who we are, what we fear, what we want to control. And this is the Rani we’re talking about—someone whose entire thing is control, science, order, ego. Her spaces should say something about that. They should tell us something new.

But the Bone Palace? It’s big. It’s white. It’s empty. There’s a clock. A big seal of Rassilon. That’s it. No sense of her past, her goals, her emotional landscape—just bird skeletons.

The only other bone-related elements in the episode are the Bone Beasts. Which—fine—cool concept, sort of, except they aren’t even hers. They’re not minions. They’re not tools she created. They’re just a consequence of realities colliding. They graze on atoms. That’s it. Not touching the sci-fi hoblesquabble of that right now, but what I’m saying is: there’s no direct connection between her and the Beasts, so the whole “bone” aesthetic doesn’t anchor to anything.

The best I can come up with is this: the Rani likes dinosaurs. The Bone Beasts vaguely resemble dinosaurs. Dinosaurs had bones (hot take, I know). Birds are descended from dinosaurs. Bird bones. Voilà. A thin, speculative, retroactive logic tree that still doesn’t explain why the Rani lives inside an empty, glowing aviary cathedral made of vertebrae.

Even if that’s the real-world rationale (and honestly, if “they looked cool” is the best we’ve got, I’m screaming into the void), it leaves a glaring absence in the actual story: why is the palace like that in-universe? Did the Rani build it? Did she steal it? Is it the bones of some long-dead dimensional god she killed in the Time War?

Is it meant to be a metaphor for her obsession with structure over life?

But they didn't say they did it for that, they said they did it "because it looked cool" I'M LOOSING MY MIND. ahem anyway............ The dismissal—or worse, the lackadaisical handwave—of the Rani’s environment just highlights how little thought seems to have gone into actually integrating her into the story’s world, plot, or emotional landscape.

Because as it stands, it doesn’t feel like the Rani’s domain. It feels like a Pinterest board titled “spooky vertebrae + cathedral moodboard” got approved by committee and then vacuum-sealed in white light.

And I know Doctor Who has always danced between narrative logic and vibes. I love that about it. But there’s a difference between “this doesn’t make sense because it's alien” and “this doesn’t make sense because no one thought it through.”

[pinksobg]

Message from someone that loves you 💌

so good to be back! I was doing some exams and recovering myself. 🌷 happy leo season for you all and happy birthday to me yay ☺🍵 I hope you guys enjoy this pick a card and that you all are doing good! <3

Pile 1 - Hello, hello cinnamon roll! Pile one! Yes, yes. Ok! Could it be a child? Definitely someone younger than you. Or a childhood friend for some people in this pile. Ok! It could also be a friend from adolescence. Ok, that person. I keep thinking "soul level." Ok! It could be that you have healed your inner children together! How cute! Someone with a good sense of humor, cheerful, and upbeat.

Message: Don’t let anyone tell you what to do. I don’t like seeing you feeling down or being bossed around. What I mean is that I want to see you show your braver and more authentic side to the world more often. But, haha, yeah, maybe the world isn’t ready. My dear, I don’t know if you care much about your appearance, but you attract more attention than you think! You are much more beautiful than you realize! Much more. 💌 I will protect you, I will protect your heart, just as you did with my inner child’s heart, haha. Don’t look at me like that! I’ve grown up a lot already, haha! I learned from you and see you as a role model. It’s true, you inspire me. Even from afar or without words. Watching you chase your dreams is amazing! It’s what I want to see the most! Yay! 💌 I’ll send you a song.

songs: blessed-cursed - enhypen; birds of a feather - billie eilish; say you won't let go - james arthur.

___________________

Pile 2 - Hello pile 2! My melody! Ah! How sweet! It could be a romantic interest or someone who has a crush on you! How cute! Really, you give this person butterflies in their stomach or speed up their heart. It could also be a confirmation if you’re feeling discomfort in your lower back, because I started noticing that while writing the beginning of your pile, and I wasn’t feeling it before. Anyway, let’s go to your message?

Message: Hi! You don’t leave my mind and can sometimes make me a bit confused. Well, yeah, I’ve been thinking a lot about you, but my ability with words isn’t as good or as voracious as my thoughts. In my thoughts, everything seems to work out perfectly, thank you, but I wonder if you feel the same. I’m at a loss for words to describe or express what I feel inside. 💌 Your scent is wonderful and your hair is beautiful! Something about you makes me admire you so much, and I’m looking to meet people like you now. Thank you for helping me notice certain patterns in my life. Now I just want people in my life who make me feel good, just like you do. You are someone who makes others feel heard, and that’s great! I want to be like that too. 💌 See you again! <3 💌🌷

songs: fate - g-idle; stereo hearts - gym class heroes ft adam levine; don't you worry Child.

___________________

Pile 3 - Hello, hello pile 3! Hello Kitty pile! It seems to be an old friend, someone whose connection reminds you of human warmth or maybe summer. Predominantly feminine energy. Ok! Let’s go to your message?

Message: Hi, dear! It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Well, you seem a bit tired? If you feel guilty for resting or wanting to rest, please don’t feel guilty. If you’re choosing between two paths, let me tell you a story to try to help you! Sometimes we’re like ducks swimming in a familiar lake, but sometimes we have to move and migrate to another place because of the temperature. So, don’t feel guilty for choosing what’s best for you now, my dear. 💌 Look, I have to tell you that I’m very proud of you! I’ve always believed in you, and your potential never ceases to amaze me, you know? 💌 Shine brightly as always, you’re my rock star!

songs: bring me to life - evanescence; ophelia - the lumineers; sweet juice - purple kiss; midas touch - kiss of life.

[callmecoke]

Hi again! I looked through your blog very briefly (gonna take a deeper dive once I am free from uni stuff, sigh), but honestly you feel like someone I would click quite well, so if you are still looking for requests, I would really love to see something fluffy and comforting about Graves from you. I really will devour with great pleasure anything you cook, but if you do something for Graves x Russian reader, I'd be even more happy. No pressure tho, genuinely

Most importantly I really hope you write things you enjoy and have people you like around you, here and offline obv. Sorry if I sound annoying lol, I just think you're cool. Much love!!

HEY!!!!!! You’re not annoying at all and I really appreciate the request! So, minor warning before hand, I am incredibly Australian, and know, admittedly, fuck all about Russia or Russian people. So if anything here is wrong or incorrect, just put me down 😞 (JK, lemme know and I can correct anything, or maybe add a few tidbits if a learn some new things) Anyways, I hope you enjoy this! I decided to do a headcanon list and not a full story lol I hope that’s okay.

Russian Reader x Graves Headcanons (Fluff)

Graves has picked up a few words during his time working with many, many different types of folks from all four corners of the world. They’re not full sentences though, more random tidbits. Sometimes their phrases that he doesn’t fully know the meaning of, but finds fun to say (The Russian version of “I’m going to fucking kill you” was repeated to him so much he started saying it out loud around the house. Didn’t know what it meant until you had to sit him down and explain why your relatives were looking at him a bit offended)

Despite how well he can repeat phrases he finds on the field, he absolutely fumbles when attempting to actually teach him the language. Suddenly, his fat American tongue can’t wrap around the words and it sounds like the syllables are choking him. Looks at you all proud each time because in his mind, he’s absolutely nailing this (he isn’t)

But there are some phrases you’ve taught him that he caught on to quite well. Things like “Я люблю тебя” (I love you) and “Любовь всей жизни” (Love of my life) he learned pretty quickly because his association was with you. He also looooves to pull these out when he wants something from you or is trying to soften you up. He a cheeky bastard like that.

Now, Phillip is all about the grill. He is the man who has full control of the barbecue at any and all social functions. He has self assigned that role and he takes it very seriously. However, that doesn’t mean that he is a single minded cook. In fact, with a clear recipe he can just about make anything to near perfection.

Pirog? The juiciest meat stuffing available. Kasha? Every morning with side of strawberries. Literally any dish you want, he can make. He cooks to impress. (And it’s a bonding moment if you have some recipes you wanna teach him. If you stand behind him and guide his hands you’ll get him blushing a little and give him a good laugh because you knooooow he’s normally the one with his chest against your back)

I do believe this man is a chronic google-er so he spends a lot of time on his phone searching up phrases like “New Russian Partner” “How to impress Russian family” “Russian culture” “Russian language learning easy”

If you’re new to America and are struggling to find your footing, he is more than happy to come to your rescue. And doesn’t necessarily mean he understands what you’re going through, because he honestly doesn’t know what it feels like to be homesick or isolated to such a degree. But that won’t stop him from trying to help.

I think you’ll find a lot of that in your relationship with him. There’s no real way around the fact how different the two of you are culture and upbringing wise. That’s not even talking about the distance between a civilian and a pmc. But that doesn’t stop him. He doesn’t give up for nothing, even for a partner three times out of his league.

He knows he’ll never fully understand the cultural shock, or your upbringing, or even half the words you speak. But he keeps doing his darnedest every single day, in the hopes that one day he will understand. One day he will speak Russian fluently, and understand Russian culture, and learn the history and learn everything and anything about all the things that make you, you. One day, starting now.

[imaginesandsmut]

So Good

Paring: Ethan Landry x fem reader

Summary: You and Ethan had hated each other since you too met, but when you're at a party dancing with a frat boy, Ethan takes it upon himself to show who you really belong to.

Warnings: Alcohol, smutty smut smut, and some fluff at the end.

Writers note: This was requested by @kianachampion and was definitely a great idea. Don't be shy to send fic ideas my way, ya'll. But anyways, enjoy xx

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You laughed whilst trying to steady your hand, the mascara wand shaking from your movements. The music in Tara’s bedroom was louder than any concert you have ever been to, pounding in your ears and causing you to go slightly deaf.

“Okay but I’m serious,” Tara yelled over the music, “if you don’t wear this skirt, I will kill you. You’ll look so good.”

You turned in your seat at Tara’s desk, turning to see her hold up the shortest skirt of your life. It was tiny, denim, pleated and with a chain dangling from one loop to another. It was cute but you didn’t know if you could pull it off, your ass would definitely be seen if you so much as lifted your arms.

“Please.” Tara tried her puppy dog eyes, pouting her lip in an effort to win you over. “I can’t be the only one wearing something slutty.”

“So you admit it’s too short!” You laugh at her attempt at playing cute.

“It is!” Tara walked over to her bottle of vodka and took a swig, swaying to the music. “But no one will care, it’s a frat party for god sake.”

You both were getting ready for the next rager at whatever Kappa Kappa Fi house it was at, most likely filled with the same people but during this exam season, everyone is looking to blow off some steam. 

You could hear Mindy and Anika singing to the song through the walls, they were both in the living room preparing drinks for everybody. Chad and Ethan were somewhere in the apartment, probably hyping each other up by calling each other snacks and grunting.

You turned back to the mirror and inspected your makeup, satisfied with the results you got up and took the mini skirt from Tara’s hand. She clapped her hands dramatically with glee as you took off your sweatpants and replaced them with the skirt, suddenly feeling very cold. 

“You look hot.” She pushed you towards the mirror to inspect yourself. The skirt looked nice, your legs looked nice too. You paired it with a graphic baby tee and your beat up tennis shoes.

“You look good too.” You turned to Tara and took the bottle from her, taking a swig as she smiled and twirled her short dress for you. 

You enjoyed these moments with your best friend, just smiling and happy. You both met in your first class of University, you were nervous because you hadn’t made any friends in the city yet but the spot next to Tara was empty and you were feeling bold. She smiled at you when you sat down, you smiled back and it was the beginning of your friendship. 

“Can you two hurry up now!” Mindy yelled from the kitchen, her voice much louder than the music.

You and Tara giggled at each other, both already buzzed from the few swigs of alcohol. You both left her room and joined the group in the living room, they were all drinking and laughing together. It was moments like this that made you really love your friends.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

Except for one.

Ethan was taking in your appearance, a red solo cup filled with whatever alcoholic slushie Anika has made for everyone. His outburst caused everyone to look at you, all of them looking you up and down.

“Damn, you’re hot.” Mindy 

“Thank you, Mindy.” You send a scowl at Ethan, the boy sipping his drink with a crease between his eyebrows.

Ever since you became friends with Tara, you became friends with the rest of her friends. The only person you can’t get along with at all is Ethan, he annoys you to knew end and he lets you know that the feeling is mutual. Constantly bickering with each other and fighting over anything possible. Anything that he could make a snide remark about, he does.

“You’re gonna get cold.” Ethan’s voice was a mumble, like he was annoyed with your own choice of clothing. 

“I’ll be fine.” You cross the room and grab a drink from Anika, downing it in one go. With just a few words, he managed to get on your nerves and fill you with a need to punch him in the face.

“I’m just saying that it’s just a frat party, not a fashion show.” Ethan continued his attack on you.

“Oh my god, It’s not like you have to wear it.” You turned to look at him, crossing your arms defensively. 

“If you bend over everyone is gonna see your ass.”

"So what?" You ask, annoyed and confused as to why he would care.

"God why do you need to be so uptight about everything?" He takes a swig of his drink whilst still taking in your appearance. "You need to loosen up."

"I would if you weren't around."

“Okay!” Tara claps her hands loudly, shutting you both up. “Let’s go.”

The whole walk towards the frat party was filled with you and Tara laughing over something whilst Mindy rambles about the newest Stab movie. But all you could focus on was Ethan walking behind you, way too close behind you. He kept bumping into you from behind and not even apologising for it, just shrugging when you told him off. It wasn't long till you reached the party, pushing your way through the crowd and towards the drinks table, shaking Ethan off your tail.

"Go find some boring person to talk about movies with." You shout at him over the music as he tried following you through the crowd. It was annoying how much he fought with you yet still followed you around, an endless torture cycle.

"I'm just waiting for you to fall and show your ass to the entire party." He shouted back, his frame towering over you.

"God I don't care, just leave."

"I'm not leaving." Ethan looked around the party, obviously trying to find a place for you both to go so you could fight even more. "Let's go to the kitchen over there."

Before he could turn back to face you, you slipped away from his sight and hid behind a group of people. You watched Ethan turn back to where you were supposed to be, the wildy look around to find you. He gave up after a bit and huffed in annoyance, walking over to the kitchen and talking to Chad.

You walked over to another area of the house, hoping to be free of the ever irritating Ethan Landry. The pool table came into your sights and was loaded with bottles, ice and cans. You grabbed the first closed cap you could find and cracked it open, taking a swig and almost gagging at the taste.

“They’re not very good.” A voice behind you spoke, it was slurred but confident. You turned and took in the most stereotypical looking frat boy in your life, complete with the unbuttoned shirt and backwards cap. 

Normally, you would wave boys like him off. But you were tipsy and looking to have some fun tonight, so you played into his trap.

“Then what do you recommend?” You put on your most charming smile for him, completed with a slight tip of your head.

“I would try this.” He beamed at you, reaching over and grabbing a bottle from the table. “It tastes like Fanta.”

You take the drink from him and take a sip, nodding your head at the taste. He take your approval with a grin, nodding his own head. 

“I’m Luke.”

“I’m Y/N.” 

“Do you wanna dance, Y/N?” Luke seemed nice and charming, and he wants to dance with you which gives you a big ego boost. “You look so good, I just have to ask.”

You take his hand and let him guide you to the dancefloor in the centre of the house, bodies upon bodies push up against each other in momentum to the song. Luke pulls you close to him, his hands on your hips and moving them with his own. You put your arms around his neck and pull him close, your faces close enough to feel his breath on your cheek.

You look around the room whilst dancing to see what everyone else is doing; Tara was talking to a girl from your classes, Chad was playing beer pong, and Mindy and Anika were already making out on the couch. You looked around subconsciously for Ethan, trying to find him through the crowd.

It was then that you caught his eyes, an ever present scowl across his features. Ethan was sitting on the nearest couch, someone was talking to him but all he could do was focus on you and how close you were to this random frat guy. The drink in his hand long forgotten, the red solo cup gradually getting squeezed harder and harder with every sway of your hips against the guy. 

You don’t know what came over you, maybe it was the drinks in your system or the dark look Ethan was giving you, but you decided to put on a show. You turned around in Luke’s arms and pressed your back against his chest, moving your ass against his crotch. The infamous short skirt began riding up with every movement you were making, letting you get bolder and bolder. 

You threw your head back and rested it on Luke’s shoulder, looking to the side to make eye contact with Ethan. You could see him shaking his head at you, obviously annoyed about something like he always is. He was leaning back on the couch, arms crossed against his chest, manspreading like owns the place.

Luke was gripping you harder, his breathing heavy as he groaned at your movement in your ear. You smiled to yourself for doing this to him, but you felt like it was all wrong, like he wasn't the person you wanted him to be.

“Can’t believe I haven’t seen you around before.” Luke’s voice was low, distracted by everything you’ve been doing. 

You don’t reply, you felt mechanic against Luke, like his very touch made you feel wrong in every way. Your eyes kept drifting to Ethan, trying to peek at his reaction. The boy in question was now resting his elbows on his knees, bent over and giving every bit of his attention to what you were doing.

His jaw was tense, like he was going to crack a tooth from the pressure. His eyes were dark and focused, like nothing else in the world cared to him but watching you. The person next to him kept rambling on about whatever conversation they were previously on, but Ethan didn’t care. 

Ethan didn’t know what was coming over him, it was like he was taken over by a force of anger and jealousy. Everytime he was with the group, you annoyed him to no end and he made sure you knew it. He never once thought of you in any way but the annoying girl in the group. But now, seeing you dance with another guy, all he wanted was to grab you and pull you onto the couch with him. 

Luke’s lips attached themselves to your neck since you already had it stretched out trying to get a look at Ethan. His breath was hot and his lips felt weird on your skin, like he was trying too hard to make it sensual but it felt rushed and timid. You pretended to lean into it, like it was what you wanted.

That’s what set off Ethan.

He pushed himself off from the couch and made his way through the crowd, not even looking at the people he moved out of his way. You could feel him getting closer, like there was a pull he had on you and you could tell when he was away or too close.

A hand reached out and pulled you from Luke, earning a gasp from you and an annoyed yell from him. Ethan was gripping onto your arm like you were going to disappear, his eyes stared at you with disgust. 

“Hey, what the fuck, man?” Luke threw his arms up, confused as to why someone would interrupt him.

“Don’t touch her.” Ethan stopped looking at you and turned his attention on the frat boy, yet his grip on your arm never ceased. 

“Why? You her boyfriend or something?” Luke laughed, pushing Ethan’s chest.

“No, he’s not.” You tried to wiggle your arm out of Ethan’s hold but with every movement you made, his hold on you tightened. You’re sure that you’re gonna get bruises soon if he doesn’t let go. 

Ethan sent daggers your way at your outburst, like it was anything far from the truth and he was surprised by it. Luke laughed at your reply and stepped closer to Ethan, challenging him. 

“So what are you? Some sad friend that couldn't get any from her?” Luke’s voice was mean and his demeanour was scary, different from the charming way he was talking to you. It reminded you why you steer clear of guys like him at parties, and now Ethan’s hold was feeling a little more comforting. 

Ethan didn’t say anything to Luke, instead he just turned to look at you. You looked back at him but you couldn’t describe the look in his eyes, like he had someone to tell you but couldn’t voice it.

“Let’s go.” His voice was small and quiet, but demanding.

“She’s not going anywhere.” Luke was looking at you expectantly, like he was waiting for you to shrug off Ethan.

You looked back at Ethan, he wasn't waiting for you to say anything, probably preparing to drag you away no matter what you said. You could feel some eyes on the three of you, watching to see what would happen. You turned to Luke and apologised before pushing on Ethan’s chest and taking him into the nearest private room.

You shut the door behind both of you, effectively shutting out the party and the music. You looked around the room, a small study with books lining the walls. It would be nice if you weren’t pissed off.

You looked at Ethan who could only look down at his feet, a wave of nervousness overtaking the confident facade he just had on.

“What is wrong with you tonight?” You tried to keep your voice down but the anger was bubbling over the surface.

Ethan didn’t even look at you, just shrugging his shoulders in response.

“You have been acting like a total dick all night, more than usual.” You continue, running your hands through your hair. “And now you’re being a dick to others, seriously? Why do you have to ruin everything good in my life?”

Still, no answer.

“Are you going to say something?”

It was a quick decision for Ethan, one that he's been wanting to do for ages but had only seemed to have gotten the courage to do it now. He made the few steps towards you, closing the gap and reaching up to cup your face, all before crashing his lips onto yours.

It was sudden, him pressing his lips onto yours. You wanted to fight, to push him away and tell him off. You wanted to tell him off for the whole night and all of his antics, but you stayed still and let him kiss you. It was hungry, feverish, like he was expecting you to push him away and he knew it was going to be the last time.

It wasn’t until you slipped your hands into his hair and pulled him closer that he finally relaxed, moaning into your mouth and pushing his body closer to yours. He backed you up against the door, pressing his hips to yours to cage you in.

You hated yourself for what you were doing, knowing that you might hate yourself in the morning. But right now, kissing Ethan, it was all you wanted.

“Couldn’t handle seeing you with that other guy.” He whispered against your lips, kissing you between almost every word.

You didn’t say anything, just wanting to live in this moment forever because you didn’t know how long it’ll last, he might start fighting with you as soon as you back away. You tugged on his curls, earning a groan from him and a thrust of his hips against yours. It was getting hotter and heavier every moment that your mouths were on each other, losing all thoughts of how much you were supposed to hate him. 

“The only way I thought you’d look at me was if I was mean to you.” Ethan’s lips latched themselves onto your neck, sucking and biting every bit of skin he could get to. “But seeing you with him, I just wanted him to know that you’re mine.”

“Ethan.” It was like you were dumb, you couldn’t think of anything else but his mouth on your neck and his hands on your hips, gripping them as if you were going to run away.

“If you knew how much I wanted you, you would have ran away.” He was rambling, speaking to you as if you weren’t listening. 

“I wanted you too.” Maybe it was the drinks or the dancing, but your tongue felt loose and you split every thought you had to him. “I did all of that for you.”

He couldn’t say anything else, too turned on by your words and your hands tugging on his hair. His hands moved down to your thighs, gripping the exposed skin and chuckling at how you were trying to stifle your moans. His hands trail upwards underneath the skirt and to your underwear, caressing your hips with his thumbs.

“This fucking skirt.” His mouth moved to hover just above yours, your neediness made it almost impossible to focus on his words. “I wanted to rip it off you the moment I saw it, tried blocking you from everyone on the street during the walk here.”

“Is that why you hate it?” You chuckled, caressing his cheeks and taking in how pretty he really was for the first time. “Because you love it so much?”

“I wanted to take you back into Tara’s room and show you a reason why you shouldn’t wear it.” His eyes were laser focused on you, you were almost scared to look away. “Now I guess I’ll have to show you here.”

“What do you mean?”

Before any more words could leave your mouth, Ethan’s thigh wedged its way between your legs, the rough material of his jeans pressing against the flimsy fabric of your thin underwear. Your moan caught you by surprise, Ethan grinned wildly at it and was determined to hear more, 

“Want you to get off on my leg.” His voice was low and hesitant, like he was waiting to see how you would react to him being demanding with you when you would normally tell him off. But all you could do was nod and start grinding on his thigh, the jean material rubbing against your clit and causing you to go a little hazy.

Ethan was much taller than you so his thigh between your legs caused you to stand practically on your tippy toes, the only anchor you had was his shoulders. You nails dug into his skin through the fabric of his shirt, using them to help you drag your pussy over his thigh. The sensation was making you desperate, you could feel him flexing his thigh every time you moved your hips forward, making then feeling on your clit so much better. 

“If only the group could see how needy you are for me.” Ethan’s hands were on your jaw, holding your head up so he could see your face properly, grinning to himself at how your face scrunches up every time your clit feels a particularly good part of his thigh. “They would be so surprised to know that all that hate you had for me was just masking your true feelings.”

“What feelings are those?” Your voice was breathy and almost silent, you had never felt like this before.

“The feeling of wanting to fuck me, wanting me to fuck you.” Ethan’s lips ghosted your cheeks, kissing them after every moan you tried to silence. “If only you told me earlier, baby, that you wanted me. I would have helped you out, I will do anything for you.”

You don’t know why but those words spurred you on, causing you to pick up your pace and grind yourself on his thigh faster. Ethan could see you needed help and placed his hands on your hips, ready to help you. But before he did anything, he stopped you, much to your dismay as you let him know with a needy whine.

“Tell me you want me.” His voice was no longer cute and joking, he was serious. 

“Ethan.” You whined and tried to move your hips again, but his hold on you was too strong and bruising. 

“Tell me that you’re mine.”

You looked at him, his eyes dark and tough. As much as you two bickered and fought, he had never looked at you like this, it scared you a little. But the way he was holding you, the words he was speaking, it was all so hypnotic that all you could do was follow his instructions.

“I’m yours, Ethan.” It scared you more that you knew you meant it, you had known it for a long time but this was the first time admitting it. “I have always been. Now please, make me feel good.”

The last part was what got Ethan, the desperation in your voice and the way your hands clung to his hair like he was all you needed in the world, it felt him with a sense of pride. His hands started moving your hips for you, helping you drag yourself over his thigh. It was all so delicious, the feeling of your own lace underwear and his rough denim on your sensitive clit, the groans he was letting go in your ear, his lips on your shoulder blade.

“You look so good, baby.” 

You smiled at the compliment, biting your lip as your eyes closed. The sight made Ethan almost cum there, how happy and hot you looked riding his thigh. He could look at your face all day.

Then, Ethan picked up his pace, dragging your hips over him with a new found speed, added to the sensation of him flexing and bouncing his knee to stimulate your pussy even more. One of his hands left your hip and went under your top and bra, groping your boob and tugging your nipple. 

It was all too much; the feeling of him on your clit, his cold fingers pinching your nipples and his mouth sucking hickies on your neck. You swore that if you had any thoughts apart from you and him, you would be embarrassed that the party was hearing how loud your moans were.

Ethan could tell you were getting closer from the tugging on his hair to the stuttered motion of your hips, you were starting to lose all control. Ethan crashed his lips back onto yours, pushing his tongue into your mouth in a messy show of dominance, wanting you to know who was making you feel this good.

“Come on, baby.” His breath was hot against your lips, and you couldn’t wait till he kissed you again. “I know you’re close.”

“Mhmm.” All you could to was whine, the feeling within you getting tighter and tighter the long you grinded on him. It wasn’t until Ethan took his hand from your hip and dipped it into your underwear, rubbing your clit in lazy circles and you feverishly thrusted against him

“Good girl.” He almost laughed at how whiney you were, so different to how mean you are to him in front of your friends. “Let go for me, let everyone know who’s making you feel good, yeah?”

The band within you snapped and you came with a cry on Ethan’s thigh and fingers, their own assault on you never ceasing and he continued to rub your clit and help you move your hips on him, allowing your orgasm to drag out. 

He took in your face, so blissed out in ecstasy, he kissed you hard. You smiled into the kiss, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him closer, not wanting the moment to end. You were scared about what was going to happen when you got off his thigh and left the room; would you two go back to fighting as usual or did this spark some change within him.

“Come back to my dorm?” Ethan’s tone was now nervous and unsure, and yet his demeanour remind confident. “I wanna see you in my bed, naked. Be away from the crowd so you can chant my name.”

Ethan watched your face, waiting for you to say something, anything. He was nervous too that you were going to push him away and act like this was a one time thing, he wanted it to be more, for both of you to be more. Fighting with you was the only way he was able to get your full attention, and so he did it because he had no other choice. But now, knowing that you like him back, he wanted you to be his. 

“Okay.” You looked up at him and touched his lip with your thumb, a soft gesture but it caused him to melt. 

“Yeah?’ His smile was contagious, causing you to grin yourself. 

“Yeah.”

[loveless-arobee]

"I never liked roses anyway"

For the last day of ASAW, I have a slightly more personal piece. And also a self-portrait.

Somewhat an explanation below the cut, as well as some more personal thoughts about my aromanticism (and my queerness in general.)

My relationship with my aromanticism has not always been nearly as positive as it is today, which is not surprising at all given how I was raised. Being aromantic meant not being at all what other people wanted me to be, and what I (thought I) wanted to be.

So, figuring out I was aromantic (and trans) also meant learning that everything I’ve been doing throughout my childhood and teen years had been fake. That I’ve been lying to myself because others, especially my mother, wanted me to fit a very specific mould, and my queerness meant I’d never fit that.

That was hard for me to deal with and accept. That I never liked what I made myself do and tried to convince myself I wanted.

The aromantic community, and especially the AroAllo community, has helped me a lot to learn to accept myself for being aromantic and also helped me learn a lot more about myself. Somehow, it has helped me even more accept my transmasculinity than the trans community ever did, too.

My whole life was basically build on doing what other people wanted me to do. Being the perfect daughter, and that I’d have to become the perfect wife to a good partner and mother.

The aromantic community helped me learn that I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to do. And it helped me understand what I even wanted in the first place.

It helped me understand and accept that I didn’t want romance or love (roses), or even most types of partnership, and that that wasn’t a bad thing or meant I was broken, and it helped me embrace what I do experience and want; which is sexual attraction and sexual connections (represented here by dill flowers, which are associated with lust).

So, despite how afraid I was in the beginning of being queer, and especially of being aromantic, today aromanticism, for me, means freedom, in a way. Freedom to do whatever I want to do, to make the choices I want to make, and most importantly to just be whoever I want to be.

This is why I came here in the first place to talk about my experience. I hoped I could help other people figure themselves out the way I’ve been helped (and I’m very happy to know that I have in fact helped people with that! Such a great feeling :D), by sharing my experiences.

I hope I can continue to learn about myself and others, and that I might be able to help more people learn about themselves at the same time.

All this to say: I really need to thank the aromantic, and especially the AroAllo community. I don’t know where I’d be today had I not found aromantic people speaking about their experiences a few years ago.

So. Everyone, keep it up. I hope you had a nice aro-week.

[octobobble]

*posing cutely, sticking one owl leg in the air*

What are your ideas for how the Gods are worshipped in GGG?

Oh man I could’ve never seen this question coming woah. Anyway [cracks knuckles

Generally - Paintings, statues, etc. The gods of the grove seem to have a lot of art involved in the way people like worship and look up to them.

Mitternacht - This is god prime. We think she gets a lot of sea shanties and sailor chants since she looks over the cove. Generally though we don’t think she has a very specific form of worship? She’s the sort of “everything works” member of the pantheon since her role is sorta just. God.

Inspekta - The Bizzyboys! Join the Bizzyboys! Or at least help em out. Also enjoys offerings and directly helping people find out where they need to be led in life. Sadly many of these practices fizzled out with Inspekta’s mental spiral and subsequent self isolation. I imagine he used to be an extremely accessible and easy to visit god before then.

Cobigail - She’s got some of my strongest or most set in stone thoughts, which is! It’s basically witchcraft! Sigils, charms, rituals done with certain foods or drinks. I have a really strong “Cobigail is a witch that ascended” headcanon that sorta bleeds into all the stuff I write for her teehee. Yay!

Thespius - Revelry baby!!! He’s the god of love AND mirth! Being happy and having fun in his name is great! Drinking with friends, doing silly improv, dancing around to music. That’s all Thespius worship baby! Love doesn’t have to be romantic after all, love your friends and love your life ;] More direct worship may include sending him music, writing, etc specifically made for him

Click Clack - I think writers and storytellers will often try to invoke him for luck with their work. Little mask charms on typewriters, notebooks, and computers. Even braver worshippers might even send their works in progress straight to Click in the hopes he’ll give them the time of day. I hear sending it in with the gift of coffee beans makes it more likely :)

Bauhauzzo - Worship of Bauhauzzo is very closely tied with visiting him, listening to stories and telling him some of your own, even if he already knows it. Other forms include working in libraries, helping in museums, doing your best to preserve things such as old family relics and all. He’s the god of knowledge, preserving as much as you can in his name sounds like worship to me!

Huzzle Mug - MAKE WEIRD ART! GO! MAKE IT NOW! Also buzzhuzz speak. The buzzhuzz dialect of nonsense words is basically a form of everyday worship, whether it came before or after Huzzle mug doesn’t really matter anymore in the grand scheme of things because it’s definitely a mimicry of how Huzzle talks in the modern day. Aside from that though? It’s making weird art, pushing the limits, changing things up. Try a new clothing style, switch up your pronouns, shave your head bald, whagever! That’s change, baby!

King - We see the least of King so I’m working my brain real hard on this one. I think King gets a lot of like. Travelers. Writing letters and praying to King that they’ll arrive safely or even delivering the letter yourself. Pilgrimages to other parts of the grove or even earth or the drain. Sorta trying to mimic all the help King offered people. And after she ascends she probably sets up an entire like post office or delivery group or whatever. There’s a bizzyboys 2 joke here somewhere. Anyway go become a delivery person for King 👍

Thank u for asking! This is a post I’ll probably come back to and edit in the future but for now this works

[kwisatzworld]

I’d like to know if you like this life. I love it so much because it’s a strange life, one you would never live unless you had a great passion for it. You have to let go of many habits you might have had before, like hanging out with your friends or going for a drink at a bar in the evening. You can forget about those things.

Why did Valentino choose you, out of all the friends he had? Maybe because we had a bit more of a connection. We were a tight-knit group of ten, but he and I had always had a good connection since we were kids. That’s the first reason. The second is that I worked for my father, so I wasn’t a factory worker, I was free. One day I told him, “Dad, I’m quitting because I’m going to work for Valentino!” And he was happy to let me do it. So, in practical terms, I had more possibilities. That’s how I started.

How would you define your role if you had to give it a name? What do you do? I don’t really like it when people say, “Uccio, Valentino’s friend?” I am Valentino’s friend, of course, but first and foremost, our friendship came before this job. My job, first of all, is to take care of the motorhome. Besides keeping it tidy inside, the motorhome is fifteen meters long, so it has its own needs. You have to take care of everything and clean it, it’s like a moving house. Just like at home, things can break, like the washing machine. I also drive it to races and tests, only I drive it. And only he and I sleep in it.

So you don’t stay in hotels? Let’s debunk this myth! No, absolutely not. Hotels are inconvenient. You have to wake up early every morning. We really like sleeping.

Maybe you stay up late? No, we go to bed early because there’s always a lot to do at the races, and there’s also some tension. I mean, we don’t go to bed super early, but not too late either. We don’t go out, we just stay in the motorhome, chat a bit, watch a movie… we just stay there.

Do you do any management work? Not really. But I do help take some stress off him. If someone comes asking for a photo, I know how to say no in a better way. I know what he wants, just one glance between us, and I understand what to do and what not to do. That’s my job. Anyway, every rider has an Uccio. Whether they are friends like we are, since we’ve been friends since we were five years old, maybe not everyone, maybe no one. But still, it’s a job.

Does friendship mix with work? For example, do you argue? Of course! We definitely argue, but not about work, just like two normal friends. Like, I want to eat somewhere, and he wants to eat somewhere else, that kind of thing. As for work, he lets me do whatever I want. If he arrives and the motorhome isn’t clean, he doesn’t get mad at all, he knows I’ll clean it up in five minutes. We have that kind of understanding.

What do you feel for him? I care about him a lot and have so much admiration for him. He’s someone who never loses his temper, even in his private life, he’s always very calm. A lot of people come at him, but he always keeps his cool. Plus, he makes people feel included, not just me, but everyone. He always involves you in everything he does. Even though he has way more opportunities than others, he always makes sure that everyone feels equal. That’s something really special. If he rents a house, it’s for everyone.