#anyway period anon you’re saying all the right things

[lightlycareless]

i just read ur reader piercing naoya's ear fic and i was wondering can u write smth about naoya finding out reader got their belly button pierced? xx

Hello!!!

Did someone say smut? because that's what we got. I think hehe. I'm still somewhat uncomfortable writing it but you know what they say!! practice makes perfect 🙈🙈🙈 Anyways, thank you so much for your patience and for sending this ask!!!!! 🥺 it took me a while to get an idea of what I wanted to write, but here we are :> I hope its to your liking!

Also, I believe this is the fic anon is referring to :> If not then gee I've written more about piercings that I've ever expected lol.

warnings: smut. MINORS DNI. you get a piercing and decide to... act weird about it. naoya does not like it :)

Happy reading!

How you managed to hide your piercing from his ever-wandering hands is a commendable feat, even after all went down, you still don’t know how you did it.

Though all this could’ve been easily avoided in the first place if you hadn’t convinced yourself to do it after seeing a particular photoshoot and thinking “I can look just as good.”

As well as believing this would further spice up your life with Naoya. Like it wasn’t spiced enough!

But only after you surpass both your embarrassment and heal; unfortunately, the former only growing stronger and stronger upon realizing this was far more than what you bargained for.

You initially try to play it off as being sick whenever he gets too close. Not in the mood, even. “I’m dizzy.” “My head hurts.” “I’m on my period.” Are just a few of the excuses you deployed.

And your loving husband, always the (surprisingly) patient one, takes it, because he supposes that for his ever-willing wife he could allow these exceptions. Thus, right after you reject him, he cuddles up to you and falls asleep.

However, his tolerance quickly ends when understanding this wasn’t to be a 1-week occurrence. But rather, a monthly endeavor that soon turned his everyday into utter punishment.

Naoya frantically attempted to make sense of it all. Think that perhaps the reason behind your distance was because of some unknown issue that troubled your mind; you always tended to keep things to yourself, even if he’s countlessly assured you he could fix all of your problems—he just needs to know them first.

…

But even then… Naoya could not understand how easily you were able to detach from him. Because to him… to do so meant death itself.

The problem wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. Naoya had more than enough means to keep you satisfied however you needed it, and he made sure of that too.

Thus, at the lack of answers, he begins to feel threatened. Intimidated. Replaceable.

And we all know how Naoya gets when feeling such way.

“Princess, you will explain yourself—now.” Naoya demands, his abrupt, towering presence forcing you deeper into the bedroom, nowhere to escape.

“I don’t—I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You gasp, a blatant lie that only served to bury you deeper into your mistakes.

“Oh, no. I think you know exactly what I’m talking about, mochi.”

If you hadn’t transgressed Naoya, you would’ve found his approach very, very inciting.

Unfortunately, even if you wished to go down that path, your dear husband was far too infuriated by your ridiculous behavior to consider anything else that wasn’t confronting you.

“Why are you avoiding me? And don’t even try to get out of this one, I’ve been patient enough.”

You knew this moment was fast approaching; only a matter of time before you ran out of excuses… or patience to abuse.

There’s only so much he’s willing to tolerate before he… well, you don’t want to think about it.

“I’m just… I just— I don’t know how to tell you…” you breathe.

“How to tell me what?”

“Do you promise to not get angry at me?”

“I’m not sure if I can promise that.” He frowns. You swallow.

“…at least not too much?”

Naoya squints his eyes, as if considering it. You knew he wouldn’t, you were in the wrongdoing after all.

“Just don’t judge me, please.” You eventually profess, and after taking one last breath, you reach for your obi and untie it, careful to not reveal too much but just enough to show the bare skin of your abdomen—

And the shiny addition to your navel.

Naoya couldn’t hold back his laughter.

“Is that all, princess?” He chuckles loudly, like you just told him the funniest joke he’s ever heard. You do not find it amusing. “Is that the reason why you’ve been avoiding me??”

“Y—yeah I—I guess!” You frown, cheeks burning hot. “Don’t make fun of me, I was really hesitant whether to tell you or not!”

“Really? For this silly little thing?”

“It wasn’t silly to me, Naoya!” you cry.

“Alright, alright—I didn’t mean to upset you.” He says, curiously attempting to reach for your piercing before you smack him away. “Hey!”

You glance away, placing your obi back in place.

“Come on now, you don’t have to hide it from me.” Naoya smirks, stepping closer. “Hey, princess—”

“It’s still healing.” You quietly explain; a partial reasoning behind your dismissal.

“Ah, so you’re telling me you wouldn’t like me to help you?” He enticed, you retreated further into the wall; if possible. “I have more than enough experience with piercings, there’s no one in the estate more qualified than me.”

“Don’t misinterpret my words, you know I didn’t mean... that.” You caution, though he spoke nothing but the truth.

“Is that a yes?” Naoya continues, placing his fingers under your chin and pulling your gaze back to his.

“…only if you don’t make fun of me.” You eventually agree, and he seals the deal with a chaste kiss on your lips, followed by a tight hug that has you whining in pain. “Na—Naoya!”

“Oh, princess, I’m sorry.” Naoya says, quickly releasing you. “You poor thing… is this how it’s been since?”

You nod.

“Well, you’re in good hands now; and luckily for you, I know just the right thing that will ease your pain.”

Had you known Naoya would completely dedicate his time to make sure you weren’t passing any discomfort, then maybe you would’ve told him of your small endeavor from the very beginning.

It just… to see him so enthralled by your impulsive decision, you couldn’t help but wonder how different everything would’ve been if you had decided otherwise.

As well as how much you exaggerated your worries; hadn’t your husband consistently proven how far he’s willing to go just to make you happy?

From whatever craving you desired (but nothing that would hinder your healing process) to the endless kisses he’d place on your navel—as if he weren’t sufficiently hypnotized by your body, your piercing heightened that desire—Naoya was all yours. Completely allured.

But mostly by the rush he got at being the only person to know of the debauchery that hid beneath the pristine, meek and obedient look you carried around the estate; fitting to the wife of the future leader of the Zen’in— the same woman many admire by her gentleness, how you’re his living contrast, his better half; never daring to be as outrageous at he is!

If only they knew the truth.

No. It was better if they didn’t. He’d fervently keep all this enjoyment for himself.

“St—stop, Naoya!” you cry, squirming beneath his touch that roamed across your body, caressing the places where he’d like to taint next, such as your now sensitive nipples, which he’d squeeze and pinch incessantly for you to suffer in the following days.

Or your twitching clit, grazing it with no particular desire outside of tormenting you with pleasure. Remind you who really was in charge of your mere existence.

Yet, nothing compared to the way his cock plunged into your warm, tight walls—choking him so painfully exquisite, Naoya can’t help but moan whenever you do. Keeping your hips steady as he gives you all that he could not these past few months—blinding your sight with stars when bruising that one spot that always has you coming undone, which you desperately grasp whenever possible, wanting to steady that agonizing sensation.

Because as cruelly as your husband teased you, you equally desired to pour out all the desire you bottled up by a silly fear, let him enjoy the gift that was always meant for him. Your role in this marriage.

“It—it hurts—Naoya—!” you whimper, a profession Naoya was quick to interject as a lie given the way your cunt refused to stop milking him.

“Hmmm, it does, doesn’t it?” He breathes against your skin, placing ardent kisses across your cheek down to your neck as his hands reached for one of your nipples once more, giving it a particularly tight pinch that made you squeal.

“N—Naoya—!”

“Would it hurt here too, if you got a piercing?” he ponders curiously, another wave of excitement travelling all the way down to his member, which you felt grow even harder, bigger at the thought. Hips unwavering as if he were attempting to drill the proposition deeper and deeper into you.

Naoya was pretty much depraved when it came to your breasts, his hands or mouth always on them whenever possible; So, with this, you fear your chest will never know peace again.

But it doesn’t frighten you. In fact, you are willing to entertain such an idea. Endure the pain that follows this decision—for him to completely succumb to you.

“Would you do that for me, princess?” Naoya gasps, plummeting faster, stronger into you in that familiar sloppy way that signaled to you he was dangerously close.

You instinctively, as if second nature, wrap your legs around him, keeping him close, right there, followed by the agonizing tightness of you walls that soon make his voice tremble—stopping any silly consideration he might’ve had of spilling his seed anywhere else except where you deserved… though Naoya never entertained otherwise.

“Show how much you truly love me, by—by doing this?” he gasps, firmly shutting his eyes to not urge his release at the sight of your bouncing breasts.

“N—Naoya—!” you gasp, pulling him closer to you and captivating his lips in a heated kiss. Moaning into his mouth as your tongues intertwined with one another. “Ah—Naoya~! I—”

“Ple—Please, Y/N!” He suddenly begins to beg, now delirious with pleasure. “Please—Please do it for me, princess, you don’t know how happy this would make me—how much I wanted this!”

The combination of your devotion, your sweet whines, the tightness of your core, and the eagerness in the markings in his back is his ultimate downfall, just a few more thrusts and the first spurts of his burning seed spill deep within you—ropes of white covering your walls which you welcome almost jealously, as if wasting the smallest drop was the highest sacrilege.

And to a longing mother, it just might—but beneath your desires of a family, you wished to welcome back the husband your actions had unwillingly estranged: his intoxicating scent, the strength he’s amassed throughout years thanks to his strict routine, his burning touch tracing your skin with invisible lines…

But most importantly, his love, which you tightly held onto as he came down from his high, resting on your chest as he lets out a deep sigh, still plugged into you, just as he’d done the past few times in hopes his seed will finally take root. Naoya wishes to be a father too, and the thought always makes your heart flutter.

It’s the look of a man well satisfied. A man that has wholeheartedly committed to you, body and soul…

A husband that deserves to be rewarded, consoled. Urging you to speak coherently for the first time that night and let him know he no longer stands alone.

“I’ll do it.” You say, Naoya snuggles closer to you.

“Hm?”

“The piercing thing. I’ll do it, if that’s what you want.”

“The… oh.” Naoya blinks, moments of his passion suddenly flash back to his mind. Wouldn’t be the first time he’s spoken at the heat of the moment, nor the last.

“Do you really… want me to do that?” you murmur hesitantly. “Get another piercing?”

And for a few seconds, the two remain in complete silence, whether enjoying the intimacy he’s been cruelly deprived from, or considering your words… it didn’t matter. Neither wanted this moment to stop.

It was simply… perfect. Just the two, with each other’s heartbeat to fill the quietness in the room—and the doubts in your mind.

“No.” Naoya eventually confesses, placing a kiss on your skin. “I do not.”

Because as much as the idea enthralled him, he didn’t want to force anything on you. Certainly not for a piece of metal.

“You’re perfect to me like this. With or without piercings.”

Your heart tightens at his words.

“You don’t mind the one I already have, then?” you ask, he laughs. As if it hadn’t just shown you.

“No. Not at all; I didn’t think you could be any hotter, and yet, here you are… proving me wrong, my adorable lava cake.”

You frown at the gross nickname, playfully smacking him on the shoulder.

“Hey! What’s with the aggression?” He jests, but you simply hug him tighter, closer to you. “Is that how you treat the husband that had so lovingly filled you with his seed—"

“Shut up, don’t be crude!” You say, resting your head on his. After a few moments of silence, calming down, you declare: “…I love you.”

Naoya lets out a breathy chuckle, succumbing to your affection moments before his slumber.

“I love you more, my little mochi.”

Oh, how could you ever doubt his affection?

I always suspected Y/N to be more of a tattoo kind of person; idk why, but I think it would complement each other nicely too. Naoya is with the piercings, and you with the tattoo's. We all known which one he'd like.

Also, I will never tire myself of writing Naoya as completely gross with you. Like, the mere thought of you hiding such a simple piercing from him is OOF he loves it. I mean, without the constant pushing him away lol But yeah, watching you walk around in one of those traditional yukatas with your hair all pulled up in the most appropriate way ever, looking to appease the Zen'in only for him to be like:

"Yeah, you see her? No one would suspect my wife has her nipples pierced." IS SUCH a HUGE turn on to him. Maybe you do get them later on, who knows? 😏

Anyways, I hope you liked this small thing I wrote 🫣 I shall continue to strive improving my smut skills, sometimes I get so inspired, sometimes... I don't even know what I'm doing :'(

Well, still; I wish y'all enjoy it. Take care and hope to see you soon ❤️❤️❤️

[zootopiathingz]

Antis telling me not to ship Charlastor are funny to me. Like besides the fact these two demons they're arguing about are not real they really cannot grasp WHY we ship them and harass us over it.

Im sorry, am I not supposed to ship the main character with her narrative parallel? Am I not supposed to pair her up with the man she shares a love of dancing, singing, pineapple pizza and a sense of humor with? Am I not supposed to like the absolutely amazing dynamic between two opposing forces who learn from each other and turn into the best versions of themselves because they cover each other's weaknesses and become each other's strengths?

All I got from the show I just watched was that the most character development Charlie had ever gotten was the episode with Alastor so it only made sense to me that she should be shipped with someone who doesn't hold her back, doesn't stifle her potential but actually helps her grow into a person that is well-equipped with the skills needed to fulfill her dream.

How I sleep at night knowing I piss off an entire group of strangers online because I ship two fictional characters from a cartoon about demons in Hell:

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Neil.

I know you are flooded with asks and this somehow became extremely long. Too long. “Why am I suddenly telling this poor man my life story?” too long. “I think I’d rather he work on the GO3 script than read this wild beast” too long. “He’s going to think you’re criminally dangerously insane” too long. If you never get to it, I’m good with never seeing a response from you. Maybe it’s better that way? Maybe an anon would have been nice here. But, it’s 2024, so I say “we ball.” It’s a privilege to be able to send this to you at all. You get a lot to this effect and I hope they give you good feels, so maybe what’s the harm, yeah? Because this is not an ask. This is a thank you letter.

First, thanks for reblogging my therapist post, I hope it amused you. I nearly sent you “How am i supposed to explain this to my therapist?!” But refrained. At that time.

So, therapy. What is therapy really? Well…

Things have been really rotten for as long as I can remember. Bad health, bad doctors, bad relationships, bad coping mechanisms, bad all kinds of things. (Yeah, bad is a weak and unhelpful word, my therapist reminds me, but we’re doing this.)

Well, things got even more really really rotten and BAD these last few years. Health declined further, coping mechanisms declined further and more intensely, packed up my life, applied for disability, moved back in with my parents across the country.

Then 4 years ago last week I watched my fiance die of a sudden heart attack. I was 29. Two years later my best friend died. Then last summer I sauntered vaguely into a cancer scare. Not long before an operation my cat who has been my companion through so much garbage died as well. I’m not entirely in the clear on the cancer scare front. All my attempts at going back to work, volunteering, going to grad school - they collapsed on me because I couldn’t get through this STUFF.

(Sometimes when I talk about this, when I tell people, I think “they are going to think you are a raging pathological liar.” Because I’m not sure I would believe someone if they told me all of this happened to them. In such a short time period. All before they were 35. And hell if that hasn’t been isolating. You know how it sounds? Lonely. And it is.)

I did the hypervigilant and sensation/experience chasing stage of PTSD. It got me in a lot of trouble in all kinds of ways. I had to do a lot of medical and psych advocating because things kept getting worse. That was exhausting. Then that peaked. I went into the thick of the “I feel absolutely nothing” stage for a long time. I didn’t feel fatigue or hunger or thirst. Not people, feelings, a reason. Not hope.

But of course, like seems be for a lot of us, I somehow found Good Omens at just the right time. I was a very “I’m so cool and intellectual I mostly consume non-fiction media” person for too long. Like, what? How is that even a real thing? And it wasn’t real. It was just part of this curated autism mask that I don’t think anyone really bought anyway.

I think I got to a point where I’d just had too much reality. I needed fantasy. I didn’t realize I always needed it. But I denied myself for too many odd and painful reasons. Maybe I thought it was an escape I didn’t deserve.

But as it turns out, it wasn’t an escape. I watched both seasons last fall, and then this light came on. I watched it again and again.

I came to tumblr because I needed more. I found this fandom. I stepped into this beautiful world of fanart and fanfiction and brain flexing meta writing and a sense of community and wonder that you and Terry created - that everyone involved in the show inflated - exploded in the right way - like fireworks if fireworks were some kind of autocatalytic reaction - a self perpetuating force.

It’s not a “saved my life” feeling. Not a “getting my life back” feeling. It’s been a “maybe it’s time for you to have the life you’ve always been denied - that you’ve denied yourself” feeling.

I’m creating. I’m not “great” yet. Not terribly “good” at all. Maybe “behind” as far as the ���proper” timeline for starting. I know there isn’t one, not really, but boy does that society machine make ya feel like there is. And sure, I started and stopped a lot in the past. But the second it got hard I always gave up. I felt like if I didn’t get it “right” to begin with, then I just didn’t have it in me at all. But for once I’m really in it. I’m writing and trying to draw things that look less like fever dream five year old drawings. (Not that there’s anything wrong with those, is there? 🙃) I’m eating better. I’m sleeping better. I reach out to old friends more. I’ve made new friends who share this love of Good Omens.

My therapist has been floored by the change in me. After that first funny mini flop, he has been so encouraging about it. I saw him this week and I said “Maybe this is helping me get prepared to start living again. Maybe it’s a springboard.” And he honest to god said “But You ARE living. This is YOU LIVING. Why does it have to be a springboard? Why do you have to turn this into ‘work?’ Just let yourself have this for once in your life.”

But there were two more added elements that made it all work. And I can’t help but think this whole brainrot thing wouldn’t have happened without them. So many things just happened all at just the right time - a proper coincidence.

In all of the madness of the last few years I finally got the memo that I'm autistic. i figured I was for a while. But it finally sunk in for me and my docs and my people. So I’d been working on unpacking that. Grieving the life that could have been entirely different, shedding the mask. I let myself hyperfixate openly instead of hiding it and hating myself for “spiralling” or “obsessing” like others -!like ‘I’ always punished myself for before we knew that it was a trait and not a personality flaw.

Then over the last few months my therapist and I started trying this new exercise. One session he stopped me and said “in the last 20 minutes you have responded to what I’ve said with 9 ‘I knows.’” My response to that? “Ugh, I know.” So we started this “I know” swear jar type situation. Really, I’ve been afraid of not knowing. I couldn’t let myself “not know.” Because it meant I was “dumb.” I was just drowning for so long in guilt and self loathing for the “I knew better and screwed up anyway.” Or “I should’ve known better - I should know that by now.”

As it turns out, there’s a lot of things I don’t know. That I didn’t know. Things I will never know. And refusing to admit all of that kept me from learning a damn thing. Kept me from asking questions. Kept me from trying new things because it was scary to do something new - something unknown - and I "knew" how it would all turn out anyway. Kept me from connecting with people because it was painful or embarrassing when they knew things I didn’t and it seemed like I already should have. Kept me from getting better at making art, music, writing. Kept me from forgiving myself. Kept me from growing. And kept me from moving forward. Maybe not on. I don’t know if we ever “move on” from things. But we can move forward as we carry them. And as we do, the weight gets less. We’re able to carry it better. But only if we can admit that we don’t know how. Only if we don’t treat ourselves like this is something we do know or should know and we’re just failing because we’re less than. Not good enough. Not strong enough. Not deserving. We have to be able to say “I don’t know how to do this.” And then we can start looking for the answers. We can ask. We can learn.

I thought about the apple. Being able to tell the difference between good and evil. Aziraphale’s years and years of watching what he “knows” to be true be proven wrong. Crowley’s need to ask questions…

The simple and enormous gift of “Knowledge.” The “Knowledge” of the difference between Good and Evil. The “Knowledge” that can only be gained by realizing, accepting, admitting that there are things we don’t know. Asking the questions. Sometimes we get answers we don’t like. Sometimes the consequences of asking hurt us. And unless you want to stay in that painful place that painful knowledge got you, well, you’ve got to let yourself learn how to get out.

So all of this good? I never expected this. I never thought I deserved it. Joy and belonging and this sense that “Yeah, maybe things can get better. Maybe things can be good.” Because I said those things, not truly believing them, to the people I thought needed to hear it. But it couldn’t save them. It was hollow. The proof for us wasn’t really in our orbit or on our radar at the time. And now they’re gone.

People always say “it’s never too late.”

One of the people I lost said “it’s later than you think.”

I jokingly would respond “it’s already too late.”

It was for him in the end. For them. For some people I guess it really is. But maybe a lot of the “too late” people are there because they think “they know” that things will never be good for them. So they stop looking, they stop asking, stop finding. And eventually they just stop.

Then there came Crowley’s “It’s always too late.” The first time I heard it I thought “For sure, Crowley-cakes, I KNOW.”

But then…I just needed to rewatch the whole thing. And lines like that…familiar things…familiar themes…I was suddenly identifying with these characters. I suddenly saw myself. And the realization hit - I connected with something! Something new. And I FELT THAT. And that tiny little crack that made in the wall was just enough to start breaking it down. Yeah, when you start letting yourself feel after not feeling for so long, opening up to the good feelings means opening up to feelings and then the bad ones come out too. But when there IS good … it helps you balance. You can deal with the bad a little better because you’ve got the good thing to lean against when it gets too much. And now you’ve got feelings. You’ve got good and bad. You’ve got sticky foggy grey. You’ve got life.

Whew.

So, TLDR, thank you. From the bottom of my slowly healing heart, thank you.

And to sign off with some shits and giggles… I couldn’t find this in existence as a sticker so I had to custom order. Perhaps this will spread misery and panic among the humans of my city - or at least a malignant and creepy sense of unease.

Or maybe they’ll say “wtf” and go home and google it and they’ll fall into the Good Omens hole they never knew they needed too.

Thank you for this. I never quite know what to say to messages like this apart from I am really glad that it helps. (It becomes the weird extra piece that I worry about when writing season 3 -- hoping that it will be that thing again. Not just a story, but something that helps people feel and helps with healing and helps with love.)

[toxycodone]

oviposition anon teehee i wanted to elaborate more last night but i was tired as fuck and zooted off the penjamin. but like getting separated from the rest of the party and encountering the slime creacher alone with Laios.... you think he'd tell you what the thing is? im sure he knows alllll about it, like he has a private little list of all the most fuckable monsters and of course the damn oviposition slime is on there. do u think he just dives right in head first, or does he try to create some kind of plausibly deniable situation in battle? youre terrified cause you cant make heads or tails of this creature in order to kill it and arent strong with fire magic but.... why does he look like he's having fun? and is that his clothes getting dissolved in there....? and why is he so hot all helpless suspended in the pink gel (ive just now decided the slime is pink), shuddering with pleasure as each near transparent egg enters his body? if you were to get caught by it without knowing what it is i dont think he'd leave you in there, but when he pulls you out of the goop his raging hard on is impossible to ignore and just BEGS questioning.... maybe you need to go seek out another one? or maybe i need to get writing

LISTEN TO ME. ANON YOU ARE ONE HUNDRED PERCENT ONTO SOMETHING. (And I would 100% be down to read something full about this bc oh my god???) and pink slime is the superior color you’re based.

contents: monster fucking, mutual masturbation? if you can call it that?

When you two encounter the slime, Laios is oddly…excited? I mean, he’s always excited to see monsters, but this. Is different. He doesn’t brandish his weapon or look stiff at all when you two encounter it, so you put away yours and you’re like…what the fuck is the deal man??

Laios looks between you and the slime. After a few moments, he casually walks to you.

“Well…um…this slime. They’re usually aggressive, but, you can tell by the color that it’s breeding season. And they’re unusually docile when this occurs…”

So you’re like? Okay. Awesome. No fight required. Let’s get out of here.

But Laios taps his fingers. He looks away a little as he plays with his thumbs.

“You see…it’s docile. But it doesn’t mean we can just leave. Unless we want to find another route. But it’s going to keep going until it eventually finds an adventurer…to use as a host….”

And you’re kinda like um? So do you wanna kill it? Or

And Laios is like “I HAVE AN IDEA. So…the secretions of this slime numb pain and promote healing. If we help this slime out…we can get some of those. It may be useful when Marcille’s out of mana….” Laios then puts his hands on your shoulders and looks at you seriously. “I PROPOSE…we let this slime use us as hosts. And in return, we collect its secretions and save any other unaware adventurer an encounter with it!”

And you’re floored. But once he explains to you, it’s just eggs (they lay them in adventurers to spread their kind to other floors). And it’ll feel *good*. You put your hands on your hips.

“Let me guess. You’ve been waiting for us to encounter this monster, huh….?”

*Cue that iconic Laios blushing panel.*

Anyways, you accept. Laios gives you the rundown from his guide and notes from his journal. First, you have to remove your clothing. The slime will get them soaked and likely tear them to shreds anyways, and if you don’t have a spare you’re screwed. Then, the slime’s secretions will coax you into relaxation. You’ll feel yourself go limp, but it’s not a bad thing. It’ll just make it easier for this whole process—so don’t fight it. Lastly…just enjoy? The slime does all the work and the eggs aren’t dangerous. You’ll pass them in a few days when the incubation period has succeeded (Laios wants to keep one or two to eat, but he doesn’t explicitly say that now).

And so you agree. It seems…oddly fun. Neither of you get time to really do anything sexual while dungeon crawling. And this seems like a good release.

And so you let it happen and it’s fucking MIND BLOWING. The slime’s secretions are absorbed through your skin as it surrounds you, making you feel some weird mix between drunk and high. Your body is limp, but everything you feel is extremely heightened.

The slime teases you all over and gently prods at your holes before slowly opening you up. (if you have a cervix) it’s numbing properties keep it from hurting as it spreads you open and pumps its eggs into your womb/hole. It’s honestly one of the best experiences you’ve had.

It’s like. Some sort of ethereal mutual masturbation experience with Laios, because when you look at him his skin is almost as pink as the slime. His brows are furrowed, eyes shut tight as he moans wantonly, not a care in the world. You can tell when an egg is laid in him bc his face contorts, but then his licks his lips and lets out a shaky moan. There’s already streaks of white in the slime and you’re not sure if it’s just a ton of precum or if he’s already came from the slime.

But you don’t have a lot of time to think about that before you’re shuddering from your own orgasm. It seems the slime coaxes as many as it can from you and Laios—as the more you relax and enjoy the experience the easier it is to continue pumping eggs into your system.

And afterwards, the slime resumes its usual light blue color and withdraws from you two. If you weren’t mistaken…you’d think it was blushing….theres two pink patches left on its “cheeks” as it slithers away, streaks of cum and slick still present in its body.

And. Of course. In typical Laios fashion, while you two are coming back to your senses, covered in slick and slime and who knows what else. All he can do is look at you with that same dopey lovestruck expression and mumble about how much he loves you.

[rileyslibrary]

Where’s my pen, Lt.?

Summary: You’re PMSing, and Ghost comes to the rescue.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,110

Notes:

Angst and fluff

Dedicated to my ✨ anon

Want more?

———————————————————————

How can you be angry, sad, and tired all at the same time? It’s a never-ending cycle. Every month right before your period, you feel like shit. What did your species do to deserve such a cruel and recurring punishment? What a selfish b*tch that Eve was. So much for taking one for the team.

You’re standing in front of a table with a shattered drone resting on its mahogany top. Fortunately, with the right tools, carbon fibre is easy to repair. Unfortunately, this army base doesn’t have the necessary equipment and personnel for the job. It can be a complex task if you don’t have the resources, especially if you lack the energy and strength to do it just by yourself.

Ghost is sitting in the corner of the room, cleaning his handgun. He looks calm—sirene—as if he didn’t just stare death straight in the eyes a few hours ago. How does he do that?

On the contrary, your movements are sluggish, you have terrible back pain, and you lack the motivation to complete even the most basic tasks. But you have to fix that drone for its next mission.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in one of the drone’s camera lenses. You’re unrecognisable. Your hair is acting up again, with unruly strands forming a halo at the crown of your head. Not only that, but your reflection reveals another issue. You take a closer look at your face. Fuck; another pimple. It decided to settle on your chin this time. Great—just great.

“Everything alright?” He asks, interrupting your thoughts.

“Y-yes, ready to start the process.” You answer with false confidence. Can he tell you’re faking it? Probably.

He says nothing but keeps staring at you with an unreadable expression, his silence giving an answer in itself. After what seemed like an eternity, he stands up and walks towards the door, exiting the room and leaving you alone.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, exhaling in relief. Come on, get a hold of yourself. Focus.

You gather your hair up and fix it with whatever you have available in front of you. Now is not the time to be making stylistic decisions. You’re not here to compete in a pageant, anyway. What you need to do is fix that damn thing and fast.

You roll up your sleeves, grab your notepad, and open it on a new page. You pick up your p-

Where’s your pen?

You begin searching the table for your missing item, picking up drone components and putting them back in an unruly manner.

Maybe it rolled off the table!

You kneel on the floor, furiously searching for your pen as if you’d lost your most treasured asset. Where did it go? It can’t just grow legs and walk away! It must be here, somewhere.

You stumble as you rise to your feet, bumping your head on the table’s corner. Dizzy and frustrated, you stay on all fours, attempting to calm yourself with every ounce of dignity you have left.

Until you ultimately give up. So much for the confidence boost you tried to give yourself a few moments ago. You roll around and sit on the floor, drawing your knees close to your chest and burying your face in them as you let out a long, deep sigh.

“Is that part of the repair process, soldier?” Ghost asks as he re-enters the room, “do you grieve the drone first before you glue it back together?”

Today, of all days, he decided to act like an asshole.

“I misplaced my pen, Lieutenant,” you reply, still seated on the floor.

“You’re crying because you misplaced your pen.” He repeats in a deep, monotonous voice.

“I’m not cr- forget it.” You sigh defeated.

You can’t tell him what’s going on inside you. He’ll never understand. Ghost could take a bullet to the shoulder and still manage to climb a mountain while you’re whining about a minor inconvenience.

“Get up.” He commands, and you follow his orders. You pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and attempt to stand as straight as possible.

He stares at you with those interrogative eyes of his and slides something from across the table. You look down at the purple-wrapped rectangle in front of you.

A chocolate bar.

“I know what’s up,” he says, shrugging as he looks at the chocolate, “you tend to be like that a few days before.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “How do you know?”

“I keep a log,” he explains. “I might be confident enough setting up an ambush in the middle of the desert, but I don’t push my luck with you.”

You crack a smile and accept the chocolate. “Thank you, Ghost,” you mutter, eyeing the piece of candy. He keeps a log, huh? What a guy.

“About that pen you were looking for,” he continues, “it’s in that patty of yours,” he explains and points at you.

In the what of yours??? You stand perplexed by his last statement until he gestures toward the back of his head. You mimic his actions and chuckle in embarrassment as you realise what he’s referring to. But of course! You used the pen to secure your hair. You exhale in relief and pick the pen off to set it on the notepad.

“You’re a lifesaver, Simon.” You reply.

“Keep your gratitude for the battlefield, soldier,” he adds dismissively. He’s obviously flattered, but he’ll never confess it. “Now tell me, how’s your back doing?” He asks, “still in pain?”

You nod. “Hurts like a motherfucker, sir.”

“Let me see,” he says, and you lift your hair up to expose the back of your neck. He moves in closer to get a better look, and you can feel the heat of his breath against your skin. His fingers are gentle as he works his way down your neck, kneading the soreness and pain away with skill. You wince as you feel his touch, but the pain is nothing compared to what it was before he began to work his magic.

“Oh, and, uh, Lieutenant?” You whisper softly, almost inaudibly, as you feel the tension leaving your body.

“Hm?” He murmurs, his strong hands now carefully massaging your shoulders.

“It’s called a bun,” you say with a smirk, “not a patty.”

———————————————————————

[temis-de-leon]

Gn!MC with chronic joint pain

Characters: Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub and Belphegor (x reader, separately, could be read as romantic or platonic)

Main Masterlist

Anon request: Could I request the brothers with a gn!MC with chronic joint pain? Sure, medicine makes it feel better when they take it, but it never 100% goes away and the meds aren't without side effects. On a good day, they can function relatively normally even if they do certain things at a slower pace. However, on a bad day, they can hardly get out of bed or do basic tasks (brush their teeth, lift a coffee cup, use a hand towel, etc) without difficulty, and require a fair amount of support when flare ups happen

A/N: I'm pretty sure Google thinks I'm the one with chronic pain

.

Mammon

Although he’s the one who spends time with you the most, it took an embarrassingly long time to notice how significant your winces and fatigue were. After all, his initial belief was that humans were naturally weak.

He thought he understood why you stayed too long in bed from time to time or why your brows would frown when you grabbed your backpack if it was especially heavy some days.

You’d say you couldn’t help it whenever he teased and of course, you talked with frustration each of those times, so he learnt to ignore it; just like you tried to do.

Then came the day when he crushed you in the hallway while running away from Lucifer. The only thing he could do before both of you fell to the ground was twist your body so he could act as a cushion, but even that wasn’t enough.

You started to complain before he had the chance to ask for payment for his ‘sacrifice’, but it wasn’t just words or berating; Lucifer was already doing plenty of that.

It was a mix of gasps and moans of pain that stopped both brothers in their tracks.

The only reason why the eldest didn’t obliterate the younger demon on the spot was because the guilt was already eating him alive.

He helps you with no asking needed, carrying your backpack to and from school, helping you put on your coat or making you breakfast, although it’ll most likely be burnt.

He’ll stop if it makes you feel useless or incapacitated on days when you are mostly okay, but if you’re barely able to lift your head off the pillow, you can bet all your money he’s laying right next to you ready to make you some company, even in silence.

It will take him some time, but, eventually, you will have his undying support.

Levi

Being as distracted as he is, with his eyes glued to a screen most of the day, wasn’t an excuse for him to ignore all the pill bottles in your bathroom cabinet or the way you sometimes couldn’t keep up with him when he was excited and walking too fast.

He feels like a horrible friend when you tell him. He should’ve known!

You will have to explain the whole situation to him in the comfort of his room, moments after he requests your presence for the testing of an arcade shooting game that will, for sure, make your arms sore for the next few days.

Although you assure him you can still play, just not for excruciatingly long periods and on lower difficulty, he still feels like he failed you in some way.

Sharing his interests with you will never be enjoyable as long as it has the possibility of causing you pain.

Fortunately, he knows countless games where long-range movements are not required and you can have fun anyway: visual and choice-based novels, turn-based RPGs, social simulation games…

He especially likes the choice-based ones. From your views on morality to romance and friendship, each important interaction with the characters or the lore helps him know you more and more as the game progresses.

It doesn’t stop there, though.

He will also try, not so subtly, to find games, shows, comics and manga where you can relate to the main character in one way or another.

It could be seen as pity, but that isn’t his intention at all. You should enjoy the media you interact with! Either heroes or villains or something in between, you should have someone you can understand on the screen or paper.

Asmo

Since observing you and everything related to you is an enjoyable pastime of his, it doesn’t take him long before he figures out your medication schedule. At first his beauty-driven mind thinks your pills are vitamin supplements, but then he notices the headaches, the stomach issues and the exhaustion; no doubt side effects.

It is on one of your worst days when he knocks on your door asking to spend the evening together. The only thing you can do to greet him is throw a weak peace sign from beneath the blankets and that’s when he pouts and frowns in worry.

He hopes you trust him enough to talk about it in case you want to keep it a secret and, if not, why would he treat it like a taboo subject?

He may be the only one who straight-up asks with absolute normality.

Changes are not noticeable at first seeing that he already liked being around you and dotting on you before knowing anything, but rest assured he will be there if you ever need him.

On days when you feel like you can’t take care of yourself, the only thing you have to do is send him a message.

Whatever you need, he will do.

From drawing a bath so you don’t have to stand up while holding the shower head to applying dry shampoo on your hair so you don’t get out of bed at all. He will also do your skincare routine and even your makeup if you're up to it; brush your teeth and your hair and organize your room while mindlessly chatting with you.

His favourite shared activity is painting your nails since you don’t have to move at all and you still enjoy each other’s company.

The rest of the brothers need to remind him from time to time that you aren’t a doll for him to dress, but he won’t ever do something that makes you uncomfortable in any way.

Beel

He doesn’t really notice until it comes up naturally in conversation.

You’re both in the kitchen, getting a snack to hold on until everyone is ready for dinner, and he starts talking about a new workout plan he is following in the gym. A famous bodybuilder posted it on his Devilgram account and he was too curious not to give it a shot.

Although he can do it on his own, he likes to spend time with you, so he innocently asks if you want to go with him someday and try it, even if it’s a watered-down beginner version.

It’s not like you can’t go to the gym, but the number of exercises you feel like you can do is limited and you need to be mindful while doing all of them. Hell, even at home you need to be careful with some of your movements, doing simple chores like making your bed or washing the dishes.

You remind him how you cook too, usually doing one-pot meals and trying to use your body as little as possible; there are human influencers (highly recommend) that show specific tricks to make cooking easier for people like you, after all.

Luckily, he understands immediately, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to give up.

Unbeknownst to you, he researches specialized exercises and routines, as well as food, made to alleviate pain and strengthen your weakest points.

It isn’t a definitive solution, and certainly not the best, but it’s the thought that counts and he’s genuinely trying to make your life more comfortable and pleasant; not so draining.

He won’t push if you decline his offers and options (he’ll never force you to do anything, even if it benefits you), but will be extremely happy if you accept.

Belphie

He never asks, but you never have to tell him either, he just knows.

Your pain reflects in the way you move and live your day-to-day life, slower than the rest of them and always taking precautions, medicating yourself periodically even if sometimes that isn’t enough.

All of them have dinner in your room when you’re feeling way worse than usual and each time his memories can’t help but go back to that fateful evening in the attic.

He willingly and excitedly caused you abysmal pain back then, but he doesn’t want to imagine how underestimated his measurements are.

You suffered, yes, but all of that happened in the past.

Asking you what exactly hurts and what makes it worse won’t help his guilt at all.

Now that he can help you, he won’t do anything but.

Being who he is and liking what he likes, he has a trustworthy list of mattresses and pillows that he doesn’t hesitate to share with you.

He knows better than anybody else what a well-rested body can do to the mind and, although it may not help much, he insists you try at least once.

Going shopping for something like this and doing it with him is a double-edged sword; while he couldn’t be a better critic, there’s also the possibility of him falling asleep on one of the mattresses on display.

And you know perfectly well you aren’t going to be the one dragging him back home, so inviting Beel as well is always the best choice; especially since you can hang out after shopping knowing that you will have your purchase delivered.

If you still feel like you aren’t getting any rest, he will use a little bit of his magic to make you fall asleep more easily without waking up in discomfort.

.

.

Taglist: @hatchers-hoard @ilovecandys2010  @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

[mythicmanuscripts]

I keep thinking about how both Jace and Aemond must have some serious insecurities about how they look. For Jace obviously it’s tied to his dark hair and bastardry. For Aemond it’s his eye. Certainly nobody could go through that kind of horrific injury at such a young age and not have long lasting physical and mental trauma from it.

So anyway I just imagine you cuddling with Jace one evening in bed or finding him on the balcony of Dragonstone and coming up to him and wrapping your arms around him from behind as he’s pouting after a tiff with his mom. And you run your fingers through his curly hair and kiss his head and remind him that you love his beautiful dark hair. And maybe that can’t fix the issues that may come from his parentage, but hearing your praise definitely helps him accept himself a little more.

Meanwhile I feel like Aemond would be sooo bad at accepting praise over his looks at first. He’s fine at accepting compliments on his swordsmanship or his excellent high valyrian. He’s been trained by Cole in the former and plenty of people have lauded him for his skills before. He can accept that kind of praise because he’s worked hard on those skills for years so of course he’s good. (Of course, when you praise him for these things, he stands a little taller and a little prouder.) But when you compliment his looks he falters. It must be a joke right? And you have to assure him over a long period of time that you really mean it when you brush your fingers through his hair and call him handsome. Or trace his scar gently with your fingers and call him beautiful.

Uuuugh I just need these boys to feel loved and appreciated and valued :(

You’re so right anon!!! I love all of these thoughts.

There’s nothing too NSFW in my answers so I won’t add a cut but there is implied sub!jace and sub!Aemond so bare that in mind before scrolling :))

JACE:

So obviously we all know Jace’s insecurity stems from people doubting his parentage and saying he’s a bastard because of his appearance. The response he usually gets from others he’s close to when these insecurities or doubts arise is to tell him that he has his father’s name and no one can prove he’s a bastard and Rhaenyra certainly won’t admit it to him.

So I actually think the best way to help Jace might actually be to acknowledge it? Everyone else tries to convince him otherwise or dance around it. Instead, you tell him that he very well might be a Strong bastard but that changes absolutely nothing to you because he’s still the same person he’s always been and you still love him.

The first few times you do this jace just rolls his eyes and assumes you’re just trying to be nice. But then he starts to speak more to you and engage with you and be vulnerable and then he starts to realise that actually you’re completely serious.

When those insecurities rear their head, you always pull him into your arms first and promise him that you will always love him. Then you like to run your hands through his hair and tell him how pretty he is, how you have the best looking husband in all the seven kingdoms.

That last part always gets him to blush and then he sort of just collapses against you and wraps his arms around your shoulder to keep steady. You let him hide there, holding him around the waist and the moment he starts to stand up again you pull him back and tell him to take all the comfort he wants.

AEMOND:

Yeah I fully agree about the praise. Aemond wants to badly to be praised, especially about things he’s insecure about, but he can’t believe it. The first few times he actually thinks you’re mocking him because he just can’t understand how you could possibly find any part of him attractive.

I think the best way to start is to sandwich a compliment he’s not used to between two compliments he is used to, or at least between between two he might actually understand. Now this method works very well for helping him open up and accept your praise, but also you’re giving him three compliments in short succession so he may malfunction for a moment.

The first time you did this he drops the flagon of wine he was carrying. He came believe how many night things he just heard.

I also think he takes things better when you’re touching him at the same time? Like you don’t just call him pretty, you trace his father with your thumb and kiss his nose and jaw. He’s practically jelly when you do this, entirely overwhelmed.

Aemond really struggles to understand why anyone would ever compliment his appearance, so it definitely takes a long time to sink in. What really helps is consistency, telling him all the time and never wavering.

At the end of the day, no matter how insecure he is, he still wants to please and obey you and so if you tell him he’s pretty then he has to get it because he won’t fight fight you on it.

I also think a big stumbling block in this process is the fact that Aemond can actually be really affected by those around him and what they say to him? He’ll act like it doesn’t affect him but then the next time you’re complementing him, he can’t stop thinking about the way someone earlier had insulted or judged him.

You start a rule where he has to tell you whenever someone says something bad about him to him. At first he's shy about it, mumbling whatever was said so softly that you can barely understand what he's saying.

But after a while he actually starts to love being able to go to you to tell you these things because he always get praised and kissed and it makes him feel so good.

[nadvs]

Hello! Im the anon who asked for a fic with rivaly at college 😍 OMG! I love what this turned in to. You are an incredible writer!! I hope you know that. You have me hooked. You write dialog amazingly. It feels so real. Never stop writing!!

Can you write something about when she get jealous? Maybe when he is in the NBA?

Hope you have a great day!

Love from Sweden

HIII omg it’s such a good premise!! i remember being in love with it the second i read your ask 🙂‍↕️ thank you so much 💘 i’m so touched that people like the au and want more of it 🥹

based on this fic

» au masterlist

rafe can get wildly, intensely jealous. and while they often joke about how similar they are, that’s one trait she doesn’t share with him. until he gets signed and moves away.

he doesn’t have as much time for texts and calls. he’s training with his new team, working up to the season. she gets it. or at least, she tries to.

she already had unwelcome thoughts swimming in her head when he had been signed to a team states away about him getting lost in the fame and potentially being unfaithful. she never worried about him cheating before. and she hates that she’s doing it now.

but she tries to keep it in. things between them are already tense. accusing him of something just because she’s insecure isn’t fair and will likely just push him away.

then, she visits him. they share their first i love you’s. they’re in a good place.

but when the season starts, that’s another story. it’s surreal seeing her boyfriend play on tv on such a massive scale, thousands of seats surrounding the court filled. she’s so happy for him and whenever the camera focuses on him, she can tell he’s nervous and she loves that she’s the only one in the world who knows it.

but then between periods, she catches glimpses of his team’s cheerleaders before the cuts to commercial. and she can’t lie to herself that these girls are beautiful. and she wonders if maybe he already lived out the college fantasy. maybe now that he’s a professional player, he’ll have his eyes on professional cheerleaders. or really, any girl, because she’s sure he could get any girl he wants.

as the season goes on, because she likes to keep up with the nba on social media, specifically him and his team, her tiktok automatically shows her videos and edits of her boyfriend, some comments from fans about how he’s the next best thing, but most from girls going crazy over how hot he is.

it puts her into a funk. he sees gorgeous cheerleaders at every game. he gets comments on his instagram from beautiful girls. the internet is losing their mind over him. how can she possibly compare?

so, the next night she’s on facetime with him, she can’t hold it back any longer. after they talk about their days, she starts to pick at a string on her shirt, looking down.

“so…” she says. “do you ever get a chance to talk to the cheerleaders?”

rafe looks at her with knitted brows. she’s been off since she picked up the phone, seemingly mad at him. it’s not like them to not be direct.

“baby, what’s wrong?” he asks.

“nothing,” she lies. “just wondering if you ever talk to them. they’re good dancers.”

he hates the way her lips are turned into a frown, her eyes off the screen.

“i only wanna talk to one cheerleader and she’s pretending she’s not mad at me right now,” he says.

this earns a smirk from her.

“they’re all so pretty,” she says. “i’m not blind. and you’re not, either. there’s no way you haven’t noticed them.”

“i moved here to play,” rafe tells her.

“and you know girls online are going crazy for you,” she continues. “don’t act like you haven’t seen all the comments on your instagram.”

rafe studies her image on the screen.

“you know you have nothing to be jealous of, right?” he says. he hates to admit it, but it’s kind of flattering, especially because she isn’t usually the intensely jealous type. it shows him she still wants him.

she sighs. of course he sees right through her. not like she’s being subtle anyway.

“i do, though,” she says. “and maybe it’s stupid to talk about because i’m annoying you and making you feel like i don’t trust-”

“you’re not annoying me,” he interrupts. “you’re being really cute, actually.”

“cute,” she scoffs, her eyes still low.

“look at yourself on your phone,” he says. she rolls her eyes and obliges, gazing at her reflection on the screen.

“now what?” she mumbles.

“if you can’t see how beautiful you are, maybe you are blind,” he says.

“stop,” she laughs softly. “it’s not that i don’t trust you. it’s just that… it has to feel like a waste to be getting all this attention and ignoring it all because of some girl back home, doesn’t it?”

“some girl,” he echoes. “you think you’re just some girl?”

she shrugs. his chest aches.

“you’re my best friend,” he says. “i wouldn’t fuck this up for anything or anyone in the world. you’re it for me.”

her vision blurs with tears. she flattens her lips together and finally nods.

“sorry,” she says weakly.

“for what?”

“for being so jealous.”

“i already told you it’s cute,” he says. she smiles again.

“i love you, okay?” she mumbles.

“i love you, too, okay?” he teases.

they talk for another hour, then she tells him she needs to go to sleep so she’s not totally exhausted for her morning lecture. he has the day off the next day, so he stays up a bit longer on his phone after they hang up.

when she wakes up, she sees hundreds of instagram notifications on her phone. rafe posted a photo of them from the last time she visited, tagging her with the caption: All I need.

before she even gets out of bed, she’s crying. because of how good he is to her. because he’s telling the world he belongs to someone already. because she’s sure that he loves her just as much as she loves him.

[bwabys-scenarios]

Kite hcs PLEASSEE i saw ur post abt him, the anon was right theres NOTHING on this man, if im lucky i can find a decent fic😔 ANYWAYS THANK U SMM

Kite SFW/NSFW HCs

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: oral(female and male receiving), creampie, fingering, fem!reader

!!REQUESTS OPEN!!

SFW

-this man is so affectionate behind closed doors. he loves to hold you, give you tender kisses

-he has very long hair, and lets you do anything you want with it! he will 100% wear little pink hair bows to work if you put them there!

-he’s such a softy. can’t be mad at you or upset for more than a second. you’re just so cute, he’ll just pay your head and say how spoiled you are

-he enjoys taking you out for nice, quiet dinners where he gets to see you all dressed up

-kite prefers giving you more sentimental, hand made gifts! like photo albums of your time together, baked goods, or cards he cut out himself

-he has a hard time relaxing when he’s away from guy for long periods of time. he doesn’t want to involve you with his work, but tries to be with you as much as possible

-he’s very patient, and it takes him nearly two years to confess his feelings to you. he knew he was in love when he watched you save an animal, despite the fact it was trying to kill you. he smacked you over the head after, but was touched by your kindness. that didn’t stop him from scolding you for putting yourself in danger lol

-he actually dislikes receiving gifts! he’d much rather just bask in your presence and get extra kisses than receive a material object

-he’s really bad at cooking, but a decent baker! he likes to make you lots of different sweets when you’re sad to cheer you up! he’s pretty good at baking bread as well~

-he can get pretty jealous. he’s a bit insecure, feeling like he doesn’t give you enough attention due to his job, so when he sees you hanging out with other men he feels… possessive. he won’t do anything, but will be a bit cranky. this can be solved by cupping his cheeks and reassuring him how much you love him!

-would love to get married and settle down in the near future. he sees a future with you, and wants to slip a ring on your pretty little finger as soon as he deals with that chimera ant situation…

-he will let you use any pet names with him, no matter how cheesy, he finds it absolutely adorable

NSFW

-he’s very much focused on your pleasure, making you cum on his tongue and fingers several times before he even THINKS about fucking you

-soft dom…

-he’s an ass guy, though feeling your thighs squishing his cheeks while he eats you out is also quite nice…

-likes to cum inside mostly, not for any particular reason, you just feel nice and warm and he’d prefer staying inside you as long as possible!

-he loves fingering you, curling them inside your cunt and feeling your walls tighten around them… makes him hard

-sex with Kite is slow, sensual, and sweet. he holds you hand, gives you lots of kisses and praise, and will do anything to make you feel good, comfortable, and loved

-he does have a thing for overstimulating you… seeing you cry and whine as he rubs at your puffy clit turns him on to no end. you’re really cute 🥰

-he’s pretty quite during sex, only speaking when praising you, or telling you how good you’re making him feel. otherwise it’s quite grunts, and soft moans

-you give him a blowjob and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him look so flustered. he’s swallowing thickly, looking down at you with half lidded eyes as the prettiest pink blush takes over his cheeks…

-“fuck, sweetheart, that feels really good…”

-he prefers calling you pet names like sweetheart, love, dear, and darling(used occasionally)

[lunicho]

Hiya, can I be 🩶 anon?

My request is not a NSFW, I’m curious what you’re thoughts are on who likes to be pursued vs pursue for &team, zb1, Riize, and enhypen?

(send riize asks to @angeltsan)

yess u can be 🩶 anon!! also i don't write for enhypen and im going to do this request for riize since it's a lot to write for all of them!!

taro - pursue: definitely starts off as friends and gets to know you over a longer period of time. he's very sweet and thoughtful. he'd want to really find out what kind of person you are before pursuing anything with you but once he feels like you guys have a common understanding of each other he'll go in for it. he's very very kind and i feel like his confession would be so cute. the type to wanna kiss u straight away so he'll be like, "can we kiss to make it official :> only if u want to ofc!"

eunseok - pursue: he's gonna be so straight up with u. he'll kinda get a feel for the situation and if he senses that ur not going for it he might just completely keep it to himself and not say anything at all. but sometimes he may just let you know how he feels just incase and also because he does Not wanna carry that feeling,, like he'd kinda wanna get it off his chest so he'd let u know, especially if u guys are friends.

sungchan - pursue: this is big dawg right here, it'll make him feel like big daddy for sure if u pursues u (im sorry lemme be serious) but i feel like he'd want to pursue u so he can make it very special. the type to spend time figuring out things u like and things to add to the surprise to make it more special. he's probably playfully flirted with u by now though so you'd be kinda aware that he at least finds u attractive. i feel like his confession would be sloppy (cuz he's just kinda a mess) but so thoughtful and cute anyways <3

wonbin - be pursued: i feel like for him it really depends on the person. i could see him being very obvious that he likes you but i don't think he'd outright go and pursue u. sometimes he's very stone cold about how he feels so i feel like he may give mixed signals at times but he likes u to kinda go for it and when u do?? oh he's so hype

seunghan - pursue: whipped vibes 😝 you'll just know he likes u cuz he probably would casually tell u im ngl. he just thinks ur so!!! i just feel like he wears his heart on his sleeve and he's so so sweet about it. he respects u if u don't like him back (literally go to hell if u don't) but that doesn't mean he won't still have feelings for you anyways :( but he'd let you know and he'd be like, "let me take u out, i can treat u right, promise 🫦"

sohee - be pursued: oh he's so sweet. i feel like he'd be quite shy when it comes to his crush and things like that so he'd rather keep it to himself. if anything he's sometimes very obvious through his actions. like the type to do little things that could be disguised as friendly but for him he's trying to let u know that he likes u but he doesn't wanna be Super straight up yk? he just wants u to come and kiss him like is it too much for a boy to ask!!

anton - be pursued (let's all act shocked): he'd get so choked up trying to tell u that he likes u. he wouldn't even wanna do it, like he probably wouldn't even attempt it to save himself the embarrassment. he'd just wanna sit back and look pretty while u tell him how u feel about him and then he'll go crazy and start telling you how much he likes u back, it would be all good after you make the first move but he is Not doing it himself fr

[baekhyunsbestie]

This anon is so true for spilling the truth beans. Like didn't we talk about how he walks around as if it is heavy (it is a heavy thannngggg) so like he needs to dump the load from those heavy smacking balls and well we know what happens next

But now I am thinking of honeymoon period marathon sex that does lead to the conception of his first child aka his cutest baby girl and like he is so smug to carry his baby girl in his arms in the first wedding anniversary like everyone can do the math and understand why the baby is here within 9-10 months of getting married. Honestly speaking he is the type of guy to drop protection completely after getting married because like what is the point since both Baekhyun and reader are okay with the idea of having kids (he is more feral tho and obviously can't keep hands off of her)

But anyway, I am probably just projecting and I should calm down 😭

LMFAOOOO maya this is us whenever we talk 😭😭😭😭

omg but i think the first time he'd hit it raw is when things are serious, like truly serious. when you're both completely intertwined in each other’s lives. like you’ve met his family, he’s met yours, the three big words have been exchanged, and talks of a future together flow naturally. you've been on birth control since long before dating, so there’s no stress about that, but baekhyun is still cautious. he’s meticulous about protection, using condoms as an extra preventative—not that he’d mind a surprise. still, he’d rather plan it out, especially for the first one.

lmfaaaoooooo one day though, right before the diabolical boogie, he checks his nightstand and says, “oh shoot, i guess i forgot to grab more condoms.” LIE. you shoot him a look of disbelief, almost laughing. baekhyun? forgetting something like that? no waaaaaay. the guy practically has a mini drug store stocked at all times.

“ssuuuurrreeee you did, baek,” you roll your eyes, seeing right through him. “so what're you gonna do????? i’m drying up over here.”

after a second, he breaks into a grin and shrugs, half shy, half resolute. “aahhhh, fuck it. we're gonna get married one day anyway.”

you'd look at him like ?????? 😭🤚🏼 and go, "woah, did i miss a proposal or something?! don't i get a say in this????"

lmfao and he'd be like "hmm, actually.... no!!! you're stuck with me for life."

you’d murmur something teasingly like, “geez, i hope the real proposal has a little more romance than that.”

and the second he feels you, skin to skin—his bare, already aching tip brushing against your slick heat—god! it's like a switch flips. the feeling hits him so hard, so deep, he knows in an instant: there's no going back, e v e r.

three minutes in, and his mind’s already racing, making a mental checklist: who to call, what to plan, how soon he can make this official. because holy shit, with the way you’re gripping around him so tight, so wet, he’s this close to hauling you to the courthouse tomorrow and making you his wife 😭😭😭😭

later, he’s in the kitchen, grabbing a usual post-romp snack (because of course, he’s gotta eat after that), and you call out, “hey baby, do you have an extra charger? mine's not working.” he yells back that there should be a spare in the nightstand. and as soon as you open the drawer, you find it. same place it always is.

a brand-new, sealed pack of condoms.

he’d hear your laugh and rush back, eyes wide as an instant blush creeps up his neck, blooming across his cheeks. the realization hitting him cus he just got CAUGHT hahahahaha

[nhasablogg]

Dungeons and tickles

Fandom: Stranger Things

Characters: Lucas/Max, Eleven, Will, Dustin, Mike

Summary: Lucas is slightly too stressed and so his friends decide he needs a distraction.

A/N: Commission for anon! I hope you like it!

Words: 2.5k

None of them really thought Lucas was cheating, because how the hell was he even supposed to do that? Buying weighted dice in Hawkins of all places was a near impossibility, and Lucas just wasn’t a good enough liar to be lying about his hit points. Besides, it made no sense to cheat in Dungeons and Dragons, a game which relied on player choices, dice rolls and the interpretation of a world through the eyes of one single creator. Not to mention Lucas’ evident respect for the game. It was simply absurd.

But it was just way too much fun to pretend that Lucas was cheating, as that agitated him more. He’d been a bit of a pain in the ass recently, tryouts for the basketball team keeping him jumpy and snappy, only for him to turn around and apologize immediately after. Still, the constant mood swings weren’t canceled out by the apologies, even though they all appreciated them. Roping him into the game, while Max and El sat on the sidelines and watched, had been hard to begin with, but his mind seemed to be wandering anyway, and so they knew he needed a proper distraction to get him out of his funk. What better way than to mess with him a bit?

“I’m not cheating,” he said for the tenth time, throwing up his hands as Dustin pointed at him and doing a good job of not bursting into laughter through his fake accusation.

“You are,” he shot back. “Tell me how you’re doing well when you’re obviously not all here.”

“Maybe I’m just that good.”

“Oh, please.”

Lucas raised his eyebrows in a way that was dangerous. “Do you have something you wanna say?”

Dustin grinned innocently at him. “No, nothing at all.”

“We can all see that you’re cheating though,” Will said, and Lucas sighed loudly.

“Not you too,” he said, rubbing at his temples. “I’m too tired for this. I give in. I’m going home.”

“Oh, come on,” Max said, grabbing his hand before he could stand up. “Don’t go. We’re having fun, right?”

“I’m being accused of cheating. That’s not fun at all.”

“So stop cheating.” Mike’s words made Lucas turn to him, annoyance evident across his face. “It’s as simple as that.”

“You know damn well I’m not a cheater.”

“Do I?”

Lucas gritted his teeth. “I’m leaving.”

Max’s grip on his hand suddenly tightened. “No.”

Everything was a blur after that; voices mixing and limbs tangling, until Lucas found himself pinned to the floor by them all, with Max most prominently straddling his waist.

“What are you doing?” he asked, suddenly aware that maybe all the accusing fingers were simply there to mess with him. He felt his annoyance melt away, being replaced by nerves instead. From the prospect of this, with Max on his waist, Will and Dusting holding his hands and Mike sitting on his legs, his body was left slightly too exposed for his liking. Eleven, who’d been quiet throughout it all, was sitting beside Max, smiling at him in a way that made him all the more nervous.

“We’re getting you back for cheating,” Max said, quickly dropping her facade. “And helping you get rid of all that excess energy you always have when you’re nervous about something.”

Lucas pulled weakly at his arms. “You can help me in other ways, you know. I don’t remember deserving whatever you’re about to do.”

“Uh, remember being rude to me at lunch today?” Dustin said.

Lucas rolled his eyes. “I said I was sorry.”

“Yeah, but you’d been rude the previous period too.”

“I’m going through a lot right now-”

“Oh, we know. This is simply just a bit of revenge.”

Lucas knew deep down what they were about to do, and so he turned toward Max, knowing if anyone would show him mercy it would be her. But Max was looking determined and Lucas realized he was doomed.

“Please don’t,” he said as she pulled up his shirt to expose his belly to the cold air of the basement.

“I’m sorry, but we have to.” She moved over to let El scoot closer beside her, the two of them sharing a look which he couldn’t interpret but which he knew meant trouble. He realized what was about to happen when they both leaned down, their faces coming close to his skin, seeming giddy like children.

Lucas screamed as they started blowing raspberries into his skin on either side of his belly, as if their lives depended on it, over and over, sending ticklish shocks through him. The initial panic merely doubled as Will suddenly started blowing raspberries into his neck as well, just beneath his chin where Lucas couldn’t shield himself. He could feel them laughing into his skin, enjoying this, and one part of him relished in their enjoyment. They’d not been kids for a long time. Maybe having to endure this was worth it just for the laughter.

Mike was going to town on his feet, holding onto his ankles for dear life lest he wanted to get his teeth knocked out. He’d grown taller, stronger over the summer, although Lucas was still stronger and probably always would be. Still, their tickle fights, rare as they were now, were no different from the ones they’d had as kids. Chaotic. Merciless. So much belly laughter they nearly couldn’t breathe. They’d not gotten Will as often as they used to after he’d gone missing and come back, but the few times they had - careful pokes, gentle smiles - had been reminders of childhood. Dusting screaming bloody murder whenever they got him. Mike running away until Lucas tackled him. Lucas having to be pinned by all three of them if they wanted to even attempt to poke him.

But Max had mellowed him out. Max had shown him it was okay to be vulnerable. Max, with her nimble fingers and teasing grin, who was beaming up at him now between raspberries. Max kept him young as the world around them tried to literally kill them. And in turn, Lucas remained gentle despite it all.

Lucas snapped out of his brief daydream (how the hell could he daydream through tickling like this?) when Mike switched spots, latching onto his hips which made them all shuffle around. He protested as they all paused their tickling for a moment, but no one was listening to him. Will simply grabbed his thighs, as if ready to squeeze at any moment, while Dustin wormed his fingers into his armpits, making him squirm from simply the contact. Max remained at his belly while El moved upward to take Will’s old spot at his neck, and suddenly Lucas wondered if he was to survive this. Max still had him straddled, but she was sitting up properly now, gently caressing his stomach as if to calm him. It tickled, but not enough to make him laugh. The only reason he was giggling now to begin with was due to the anticipation. He was pinned. He was exposed. He knew how this would end.

Did he plead? Of course not. He had a, somewhat misguided, ego to think of.

He would, though. Eventually. He knew that too.

The world was still for a moment, and then they all started at the same time, turning him into a momentarily fumbling mess of confusion, not knowing what sensation to react to first, until it all suddenly exploded simultaneously in the form of hysterical laughter. He felt Max’s hands around his belly button, squeezing around it lightly while El was curling her fingers under his chin. Those two things would be enough to have him begging for mercy, only somewhere beneath that he could feel Will squeezing his thighs, kind enough not to be gentle at the very least. He wasn’t sure if he could handle gentle scratching on his legs right now, not when Dustin was succeeding more and more in prying his arms up so that he could tickle his armpits more properly. Behind Max, somehow fitting between her and Will, Mike was still latched onto his hips, squeezing them in all his might. It was a miracle Lucas hadn’t bucked Max off in his struggle to escape, but later, when he’d been granted his much needed mercy, he would realize she probably wasn’t the only one pinning him down.

He could picture it. El and Will and Max taking turns holding his flailing arms, while Will held his legs down so that Mike could reach his spot. Or maybe it was Mike who was holding him down so that Will could tickle his thighs? Lucas didn’t know. Lucas couldn’t know from where he was lying, on his back on the floor, eyes squeezed shut as he laughed and laughed. He felt another raspberry on his belly, just beneath his navel, and he didn’t need to open his eyes to know it was Max. A raspberry to his neck told him that Eleven was following suit, not necessarily a follower as much as being unsure of what was allowed. He was glad that, in the midst of it all, none of the others started blowing raspberries on other body parts. That would’ve been crossing several lines.

“Aha!” Dustin’s exclaim was heard through his laughter, but was mostly just noise to him now, busy as he was. He could tell his shout of triumph came from Dustin finally pinning one of his arms to the side, not fully above his head but enough so that he could wiggle his fingers in the hollow of his arm with no problem, making Lucas’ focus shift to him for a moment. It was probably the worst of it; how he couldn’t focus on one torture at a time, but was bouncing between them. One moment he was with Will, who was still squeezing his thighs as if his life depended on it, moving between spots at the speed of light. The next he was with Mike, who was tickling his hips at the same spot over and over, slowly driving him insane. Before he could notice anything else about it - if he was being gentle or not, how the hell could Lucas tell like this? - he was with Max again, who wasn’t blowing raspberries anymore but was instead circling a finger around his belly button, getting ready to dive in. Lucas would’ve asked her not to, would’ve screamed and pleaded and begged, had El not switched tactics in a drastic enough way that he noticed, transferring his ever moving focus to her.

“No!” he cried, possibly his first coherent word since this started. But El didn’t listen, because how could she even tell he was speaking to her? She simply tickled both sides of his neck at the same time, just below his ears, making it impossible for him to scrunch up for defense. And maybe that would’ve been his demise had Dustin not found the spot that connected his upper ribs to his armpit…

He didn’t know how he did it, only that Max was suddenly flying off of him and his foot had accidentally knocked into the side of Mike’s head, and maybe the sight would have been funny had he been in any other position. The momentary relief simply made for a worse continuation, when he’d tasted the lovely taste of a non-ticklish existence.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he said when Max started poking him, although not straddling him again.

“You did that on purpose,” she was saying, laughing along with him.

“Where did you get your strength from anyway?” Mike asked, holding his head. “Maybe you should audition for the wrestling club or something instead.”

“Mike, they’re not called auditions.”

“You know what I meant.”

Their game of DnD was forgotten, as were the accusations of Lucas cheating. The tickling was turning into a tickle fight rather than pure torture, but Lucas was drained and had a hard time putting up a fight, and so it wasn’t hard for Mike to grab his feet again or for Max to claw at the back of his ribs when he tried to roll away. The other three stayed back this time, except for the brief poke Dustin aimed at his ribs when Lucas rolled closer to him.

“Please, mercy, oh my god-”

“You think he’s had enough?” Will asked.

“He can take a bit more, can’t you, Lucas?” Lucas managed to catch the moment Max’s face softened as she grinned down at him, maybe realizing he wasn’t able to handle much more. “But maybe we should round it off. Does anyone want one last tickle before we let him go?”

“How about another raspberry?” El said, and Lucas could only close his eyes and lie there and take it as she, Max and somewhat surprisingly Will blew raspberries on his belly for another moment. It wasn’t as bad as the rest, but being all tickled out it was enough to send ticklish shocks through his body, although he did little to stop them.

“I knew you were still ticklish,” Dustin said when they’d helped him up again, hands rough against his skin to help rub out the residual tickles that they knew lingered on him.

“Did I ever say otherwise?” Lucas didn’t have the energy to sound annoyed.

“No, but it’s been a while since we tickled you.”

“You just tickled me enough to not have to do it again for the next ten years.”

“Or maybe we just caught up on what we’d missed.”

Dustin nudged him in the ribs and Lucas could only groan. “I’m so getting you back. I know how bad your belly is.”

“Big words from someone who was just begging for mercy.”

“And don’t think I’ve forgotten about your knees, Wheeler. You all better watch your backs.”

They all laughed, knowing full well he wasn’t kidding.

“Are you okay?” Max asked him later, the two of them curled up on the couch when they probably should’ve gone home ages ago. “Did we go overboard?”

“Yes to both.” Lucas softened, like he always did when he could smell sleep on her. “But it’s okay. I guess I deserved it.”

“That you did.” She ran a finger over his lower ribs, not tickling him necessarily but also not staying clear off his sensitive spots. He shivered, for various reasons. “And needed it.”

He felt himself flush. “I guess.”

“You guess, huh.” She grinned and he squeezed her tighter to him.

“Don’t get cocky. I can totally get you back.”

“But you won’t.”

“Not here, no.” He kissed her temple. “But you better be very very nice to me later when we’re alone.”

“I’m always nice.”

“Of course you are.” A pause, and, “I know none of you believed I was cheating.”

Max snorted. “Of course we didn’t.”

“That, if anything, deserves its own revenge, don’t you think?”

He heard Max gulp. Revenge would be oh so sweet. If he needed tickles, he needed to hear her laughter so much more.

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

oh wait I meant like yan Scott and Remy work, but this time reader will be their yandere protégé

🖤 anon

𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐄…

!!! GN reader, manipulation, Scott and Remy can’t agree how to parent mentor you, reader is little sibling-coded, mentions of physical affection, clothing thief reader, overprotectiveness, separation anxiety, they try to set boundaries with you.

RAAAAAAAAA, RATTLING THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE RIGHT NOW.

Poor fellas… don’t even know what they’re in for. The strict dad and chill uncle dynamic is back, but now with a dash of weirdo younger sibling! Again, completely uncoordinated. They lowkey sound like your two divorced dads who are trapped in a never ending custody battle over you and they don’t even realize it.

(YOU’RE SUCH A LITTLE SHIT ABOUT IT, TOO. Scott will tell you to stop climbing something, and you’ll hit him with a, “Gambit lets me climb things,” and he gets so pissed off, it’s hilarious. Then a very disgruntled Remy will track you down after suffering through a lecture about being a responsible role model, and you’re pretending to be completely innocent. “I didn’t say anything at all! I have no clue what you’re talking about!”)

But anyways. Because they’re lowkey kinda focused on undoing each other’s influence on you, there’s a huge grace period where you can essentially get away with anything. Want Scott to give you words of affirmation? Pretend to act insecure the next time Remy teases you. Want Remy to take you out for sweets? Insinuate that Scott’s been really harsh lately. If you play your cards right, you’ll have them wrapped around your finger based solely on their opposing mentoring tactics. Just remember that subtly is key; they’re extremely perceptive. Use this mainpulation tactic sparingly to keep their suspicions low.

For any sort of psychical affection, you’re gonna have to play the long game. I highly recommend going the little sibling route. Both of them have a soft spot for that endearing naïveté, so of course Scott has to give you head-pats while Remy teasingly uses you as an arm rest. It also provides a good justification for you constantly going in for hugs and hanging onto their arms. Yeah, they may find it a little weird at first, but you only do it cuz you look up to them, right? With enough time, they’ll begin to reciprocate your touches, maybe even going as far as giving cuddles!! You may find it easier to coax Remy into cuddling than Scott, though that’s not to say Dadclops cuddles are out of the question!! Scott’s just trying to maintain his professionalism (booooo, so lame).

Honestly, I think you can get away with stealing their clothes. Definitely not by going into their rooms or anything (especially Remy’s; you can’t convince me that man doesn’t have his room boobytrapped from hell and back), but they’ll practically hand you their sweatshirts or jackets for free if you act even the slightest bit cold. Just don’t expect to keep Remy’s favorite trench-coat. He’ll let you wear it, but he’s shaking you out of it like a carpet when he wants it back. Other than that, everything else is free game. Enjoy your forever growing collection! Use it well, use it wisely (i.e. making a nest on your bed. Obviously).

It doesn’t take long to figure out that Scott folds under the power of puppy eyes. As long as you keep up good behavior, you can basically wring anything out of him with the right amount of pleading. You want him to carry you around the mansion? Well… that’s a bit strange, but you’re such a little sweetheart, so maybe just this once. Meanwhile, trying to hit Remy with the puppy eyes is like hitting a brick wall. “Nice try, petit, but y’gonna have to try harder than that to convince Gambit.” Luckily for you, he doesn’t really question things as much as Scott does. You could throw yourself into his arms and he’d be like… oh, okay. Guess we’re doing this now. Cool.

If you’re the overprotective type, missions will be absolute hell for your anxiety. It’s hard to watch both of their backs at the same time when Remy usually goes off to do his own thing. You may find yourself choosing to stick by whoever looks more vulnerable, or even bouncing between the two periodically. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Scott, who will try to talk some sense into you. He appreciates the concern, but you can’t keep going off mission like this. He’ll even enlist the help of Remy, who reassures you that there’s nothing to worry about. He and Scott know what they’re doing!

That’s when you pull out the crocodile tears. You can’t help it!! You’re just worried!! What if something happens to one of them? They’re like your big brothers… you don’t want to lose them!!

If anyone say your sly smile while they each separately give you a reassuring hug, no they didn’t.

So, Scott sort of relents. You’re still expected to follow through with missions, but he at least makes sure you’re stationed near Remy or himself to help ease your worry a bit. They’d be lying if they said the extra cover wasn’t helpful. As long as you give enough room for Scott to make orders and Remy to be flashy, they’ll get used to your protective presence.

(“Slim and the Cajun got themselves a loyal guard dog,” says Wolverine.)

I think they’d eventually meet with each other to talk about your behavior. You’re obviously super attached to both of them — almost to an uncomfortable degree — and they’re not really sure what to do about it. They may not see eye to eye on most things, but they at least agree they both care about your well-being. Whatever this is… it’s unhealthy.

For now, they kind of settle on separation anxiety as the cause. It may not explain all of your weird behaviors, but it at least explains why you’re in absolute shambles when either one or both of them are away on a mission while you’re stuck at the manor. They figure the best course of action is to accommodate for you… which unfortunately means working together. Who would’ve guessed the uptight Scott and reckless Remy would actually work together?

Finally they’ve got some sort of coordination going on. As mentor-figures to you, they’ve gotta make sure you’re taken care of… without feeding into your weird behaviors (little do they know, giving you any sort of attention is already feeding into your weird behaviors). Expect them to start setting boundaries, still letting you do certain things while softly explaining why you can’t do certain things. Manipulation tactics really start to lose their edge now, so you’re shit out of luck if that was your main tool.

But don’t get discouraged!! Remember that they’re still trying to accommodate for you! If one’s away from the manor, you get to spend the entire day with the other!! While they may not be as effective as before, puppy eyes still work on Scott, and it’s not like Remy will stop being so lax anytime soon. You can get what you want out of them separately with careful enough plays.

Overall, I really like the idea of Scott and Remy slowly realizing overtime that something may be wrong with their little protégé. They don’t wanna believe it, but they’ll eventually have to face the unfortunate truth as this goes on.

[clitorises]

Comparing spicy food to domestic violence...bad take lol. Why is a man beating you so he can orgasm better than beating you in general? It's worse. If a man slits your wrists because you asked, is that OK? You people are mentally ill.

A radfem in my inbox? Who didn’t bother to read my blog before messaging me? On anon, no less? What a surprise. Alright, let’s dance: I’ll point out your small mistakes before we move on to the big one 🖤

1. I’m a dominant. Nobody is beating me, unless, of course, I order them to.

2. I’m a lesbian. No man is coming near me, let alone COMING near me. Gross.

Alright, now that that’s out of the way: your concept of what BDSM is appears to be sadly informed only by Fifty Shades (Powerful Man Hits Helpless Woman!!!) which is… not reflective of the realities of this lifestyle. “Negotiation,” or talking to a potential partner about what you both want, is a bedrock of these relationships. You can find plenty example of yes-no-maybe checklists on the internet or in books—it’s quite common for partners to fill out a checklist of this type and compare them. Anything that anyone has marked “no” on is off the table-

“But wait!” you say, as I mention consent, “Men don’t care about consent! Men watch violent porn and reenact it on women! Men prey on women who are seeking BDSM relationships in order to abuse them!”

Well. Yeah. You’re right. This is not because of some innate evil in BDSM. This is because our patriarchal culture is built on male entitlement. Like… come on. I will point you to one of your own philosophies, the rules of misogyny, and I will speak to you in your own language:

I, a dyke, who is fascinated by the intersection of pleasure and pain and have been incorporating it into my sex life since it began, have nothing to do with men abusing women in any context. Period. What I do with other lesbians does not perpetuate male violence. Males perpetuate male violence. I KNOW you know this. Do not waltz into my inbox pretending ignorance. I will not pretend ignorance either: BDSM is risky on its own, and that risk increases exponentially for women who seek male partners in the scene. I love those women and do what I can to protect them. I will not, however, change my approach to sex or my general hedonistic philosophies just because men use BDSM to hurt women. If I never engaged with anything a man has used to hurt a woman, I would spend my life doing a whole lot of nothing.

Alright, that’s quite enough of that. Back to negotiation and consent: As a dominant, I’ve found that much more of my time is spent being told a submissive’s dangerous fantasies, and figuring out how to take them as close as I can get them to their desires without actually hurting them. Choking (or, more accurately, strangulation) is a great example of this. Many submissives actively desire that helpless feeling, that light-headed euphoria. I, however, do not want to kill any of my beloved’s precious braincells. So we negotiate, experiment, and find ways to achieve what they want without doing anything that I mark as too dangerous. But that’s just one example: any potential act is discussed in detail before a scene begins. Either partner gets to say no to anything during these discussions, and during sex as well, just like in vanilla sex.

My spicy food metaphor was silly, but it has a grain of truth to it—things that hurt can feel good, too. Contact sports, roller coasters, skydiving or BASE jumping, bouldering or ice climbing, even running marathons, are all things that are scary, painful, dangerous, or carry risk. Humans do them anyway. We love doing them. I love doing them. And you are not going to change my mind by strawmanning in my inbox. See you around.

[my-castles-crumbling]

HIYA CAS ❤️ It’s wolfstar anon!!!!!! Remember me? Guess what? ME AND CLARA ARE DATING NOW! 

So turns out she’s had a massive crush on me for ages. Which, you know, seems obvious in hindsight. 

So imma just tell u what’s happened and then like- the adivce I need. Cool? 

SO BASICALLY I’ve been tryna keep outta my house over the summer cause my parents work from home and it’s not civilised, so I usually go out and chill with my mates. 

SO like two weeks ago (we’ve hung out a lot these are just the important ones okay?) I text Clara and ask if it’s cool for me to drop by cause it’s like 9am and she’s usually still asleep, but she texts back that she’s awake cause she’s got these awful period cramps (being a person with a uterus can fucking suck right?) so I go to her place, it’s past town so I pick up some of those like heat up pad thingys that stick to you cause she likes tho and said they were out and obviously snacks and then, because she’s in pain and i’m a sucker, watch Taylor Swift videos and the Era Tour with her (AGAIN). 

Nothing against Taylor just not my vibe. Also i’ve watched it with Clara SO MANY TIMES cause she loves it that I know like every song. 

Anyway, we’re sat in her room watching it and I realise that i’m being a fucking idiot. I always forget to consider romance just cause- idk it doesn’t occur to me 😭 BUT Clara is amazing and also, I need to chill. She’s my friend most of all, I should just TALK to her. 

ANYWAYS so last week I got my head out my arse and told her about what i’d been thinking about, and she admitted she DOES LIKE ME, and has for a while. 

Sometimes I feel like i’m not being as genuine as other people you know? Like, Clara has fancied me for a while and I didn’t even notice? And I don’t really know how I feel. I just find romance and stuff like that so hard, because it’s never been THAT important to me. 

But now it is because it’s Clara.

I didn’t ask her out until like three days ago. After we talked last week, I told her that her admitting she likes me won’t fuck with our friendship, but that I have like no idea how i’m feeling so i’d get back to her, but in the meantime she can vibe and know that we’re cool.

And I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Like how am I supposed to know if I fancy her or not? Sure I do things for her I wouldn’t do for other people, because I care more, but maybe i’m just a dick to other people? I DONT KNOW CASSSSS. 

Look so like three days ago I decided to ask her out so that I could know. 

And we had an amazing date and it felt like nothing i’ve felt before but I felt guilty at the end cause it was like I was using her.  So I admitted I had no clue how I was feeling, and that I never get crushes on people first cause I never feel like that until I start feeling like that and I think maybe I always had a crush on her and mixed it up with friendship and how i’m a mess she should probably stay away from.

And then she told me she knows i’m a mess because she asked me out last year and we went on a whole date and she kissed my cheek and then I DIDNT REALISE IT FUCKING A DATE 😭

So… yeah. You’re now updated :)

Long story short, we’re dating and i’m hopefully not a dick ❤️

Also how the fuck do you know the difference between friendship and- not? Like, more? I feel like no one’s taught me EMOTIONS correctly 😭

Wow I am SOOOOOO SHOCKED :P

But for real as far as our question, this is a difficult one. Personally, I see more than friendship as someone who I care deeply about but also who I want deep intimacy with. Someone who I want in my future, but someone who I also crave closeness with in all ways. But some people don’t like certain types of intimacy for whatever reason and still feel romantic feelings, so people see romance differently depending on who it is.

I think honestly, you should give it a shot. If it starts to feel wrong, communicate that. Say you love her but just as a friend! Just keep the lines of communication open and be honest, that’s the best thing you can do 🥰

[rivangel]

//ftm!Levi, panic attack, self-hatred

Several minutes past the time Levi left for his shower, you start to worry. He said he'd be five minutes—which he almost always is anyway—but.

Weird. You paused the movie (and he made sure you did) as he left, and the silence is getting to you.

Frowning, you push aside your fluffy blanket for your housecoat, and amble down the hall to the bedroom.

On the bathroom door, you knock. “Baby?”

...More silence. Then a whispered scuff of movement. The knob twists before your eyes, revealing a tense Levi in long lounge pants, a towel neatly pinned to his chest, and damp hair. The worry wrinkle between his brows is harsh, his jaw tight. His eyes are a little glazed. “What.”

“Hey,” you say, much more gently this time. Over his shoulders, his skin is an aggravated red. “Hey… What’s wrong?”

“...I can’t—” He huffs. “Can’t get the binder on. I need it. But it’s too wet.”

Of course, you almost say, it’s too difficult to work a binder on when his skin is wet, but he doesn’t appear to accept that logic right now. His shoulders are hunched and he’s no longer looking at you—instead the rumpled fabric in a lump on the marble counter.

“No, you can’t," you say quickly. "But that’s okay. You just need to dry—”

He whips his head back and forth. “No. It’s fucking—disgusting. I’m so disgusting. It’s not right”—his breaths start to heave—“I need it now.”

“Levi…”

“My shitty body," he snarls. "Fuck off then. I can get it.”

“No.”

You tear your housecoat off, and fix it over his trembling shoulders, closing the fluffy lapels over his front like curtains. Whatever happened, whatever triggered him to panic like this, you don’t know, but it isn’t unheard-of. Levi showers in near-total darkness most of the time, but he doesn’t always get away with it without coming out unscathed.

He gasps like he’s drowning as he hangs his head, causing wet strands to fall over his eyes. One of his hands replaces yours, gnarled in the cotton with strength to tear as he starts to hyperventilate. "I c-c-can't—"

Silently, you wrap your arms around him and leave room for him to reject you at first. He doesn’t. His face buries in the shade of your neck as you squeeze him close, and firmly stroke his back.

“Shh… It’s okay. You’re going to be okay, baby. Breathe. Everything’s going to be okay.”

A silent, yet thick sob causes his shoulders to lurch as he totally melts against you. His stuttered panting beats over your neck, and to compensate, you take louder, slower, deeper breaths. You stroke his wet hair. “Just breathe. You’re doing such a good job…”

He rides out the panic attack over a period of minutes. Your legs feel weak from standing in place like this, but you can't imagine how he's feeling. When his breathing softens and his body has ceased shuddering, he still stands motionless.

You don't let go—you don't even slacken your hold. He'll pull away when he pulls away. “I’ll get you the hoodie.”

…He whispers, “I hate myself.”

Stinging tears immediately rise to your eyes. Thickly, you swallow, and whisper back, “I love you.”

He inhales. “…Don’t know how you put up with this.”

“I love you,” you say. “Sit down for me, okay?”

You hear him murmur an apology before he hesitantly steps away, still clutching the towel and coat, and retreats to the foot of the bed, where he sits, looking smaller than usual. His eyes are a little red. You’ll make him some tea.

The thing is, you knew already. Levi doesn’t have to say it for you to know the way he feels about his body. That he hates it. You wish he wouldn't include the rest of himself in that statement, but.

All you can do for now is keep working towards a time when he doesn’t. One day. One day.

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