#anyway sports emotions are the only emotions that matter

[reshinless]

(dom) stoner!kinich high sex pretty pls.... ‼️😣

i dont know what being high is like so pls forgive me if this doesn't make sense :3 fair warning this is kind of over 1k words (I think) +mostly smut

dacryphilia if you kind of squint, gn!afab!reader (no specified prns)

kinich often got high, and always offered you some. but obviously you never obliged, wanting to stay clean for the rest of your life.

you were there every time he did something, anything related to it—and you've always said to stop, yet he simply nods and continues doing it anyway.

he says it's for relief, and other times he says it's for fun.

but one night you get a little curious.

"kin'." you poke at him as he hangs his head back, manspreading into the chair, brushing excess dust away from his nose.

"mmm?" oh he was definitely into it. clear in his voice—a much more different tone was laced, yet he was still coherent, and able to reply. he wasn't the type to take too much of it anyway.

he took a drag from the white powder-like substance on the table- it was cocaine, as well as a quick puff from his cigarette, watching as he let out the huff of smoke away from you. he knows you don't really like it, which is why he was stunned at your sudden question.

"can.. can i try?" your voice was light, with a sense of curiosity. "oh, pretty, you know that curiosity killed the kitty right?" he let out a deep chuckle, you could hear the smokiness in the rasp of his voice. he had offered you a few times before, but seeing your clear distaste for such matters, he didn't try to push it any further.

"please? just once." he let out a laugh at your silly little pleading. "you sure, kitty? this seems to be a bit strong for people who are new to it." "just lemme try some!"

he reluctantly lets you near him, letting you sit near him so he can briefly put it into your mouth. at first, you sneeze at the sudden smell of tobacco. kinich can't help but let out a raspy chuckle at your cute reaction. "too strong?" "no, I'll... I'll take it!"

as you take in your first puff, it definitely felt a lot different than what you imagined. your emotions felt so... enhanced. emphasizing specifically lust, is it possible to lace a cigarette with an aphrodisiac?

well, whatever was inside it got his head buried between your thighs, while your fingers threaded, and grasped at his hair. your drunken little moans definitely only got him more pussy drunk, and drowsy. he couldn't tell if it was the tobacco smell in the air that influenced his taste, or if your essence just tasted that good.

whatever that cigarette was, it definitely enhanced whatever he felt, as well as yours. you could feel his determination to suck you dry with the way his tongue glided over every sport, fuck he hit everything alright...

he held your hips close, not letting you go just yet, no he had to get every little crevice, every little drop he could. he didn't know what the hell was he tasting but archons was it close to celestia. whatever that was.

you couldn't help but spew out pathetic mewls, it was your own fault you took the silly little dust into your system. even as you came right onto his face, you still wanted more.

fuck, squirting into your best friend's mouth like this, it was unethical! so dirty, and naughty, why were you still entertaining these stupid fantasies you had, finally letting these dreams come true.

before you knew it, he was already flipping you onto your back to fuck your tight entrance into oblivion!! he circled his finger around the very rim of your entrance, aching- almost asking for more.

it throbbed harder as you felt him enter with one digit. clenching harshly onto kinich's fingers, he let out a groan. "s'tight... and it's just my fingers..." your back instinctively arched against them, how he was obviously curving the tips of his fingers into that one spot you loved so much.

before you knew it- you were already creaming onto his very palm. the overstimulating feeling from just reaching your peak about five-ish minutes ago by his talented tongue, and now by just as talented fingers.

gosh it's always him and his heightened senses that mixed well with his excitement. his hurriedness almost shocked you frozen—yet your eyes continuously rolled to the very back of your pretty little head, his digits only fastened the pace.

his tongue licked a long stripe all over your nape as a way to tease you, as you slowly calmed down from the exhilarating feeling you had just experienced—but he didn't want you to rest just yet.

his hand leaves the ripe, soft hole. looking back up at him as if to ask for more, and oh would you be getting more.

as if dragging your hips to attach to his, he believed your legs weren't spread far enough; lifting up one of your soft legs onto his shoulder for support.

you were almost already accustomed to his wildness and let your arms go numb beside your head, as his slowly started to enter inside.

you didn't know what to do- but it felt like you had to hold onto something—now wildly grasping onto the sheets below you as your head buried further into the mattress. fuck you felt like you were being split apart right then and there!

"ahhh- kin'- fffuck it hurts..." with you eyebrows knit and a loud wail comes from your throat, he leans down to whisper how he knows that you can take it.

"c'mon I promise it'll feel good once I'm in, pretty..." each word he said, an inch entered inside you—fffuck he loved how you stretched over him so well.

"damn, you're so tight baby- ahh sssshitt..." he stops midway just to admire the little tears that trickled in the edges of your eyelids, and how your hands flailed everywhere, you yourself didn't even know where to place your fingertips on, his neck or the bed itself.

his loud groan didn't help as he pushed the last few inches into, making you shudder- your back ached as it arched once more. almost screaming his name, and lands one of his hands onto your mouth—a finger over your mouth.

"you remember we have guests over, yeah? not too loud now, baby." cold fingertips wipe your tears away, a smirk grows on his expression.

working himself in and out of your hole with a calm pace, knowing that you weren't too used to him—not to mention his size. your little mewls, shit are you begging him to rearrange your insides right now?

he admits that he had fantasized this before, and for as much as he wasn't a virgin while doing this with you right now—he can admit all the girls he fucked he only thought about you the whole time.

and not to mention how turned on he was right now- the mix of getting to fuck you and the drug he took, actually no aside the actual drug, fucking you was the drug.

he'd overdose on it if he could. if he always got to see how you would furrow your brows, your cute little eyes roll to the very rear of your head, and getting to feel your soft skin on his.

the sound of skin slapping against each other was loud, and vulgar, and probably enough to get the attention of your guests outside. even so, you still attempted to hide your wails of pleasure.

before you realize it- you've came onto him for the third time this night, as he finishes inside you as well. squirting everywhere— some of it getting onto his chest, and a bit on his face. his own head throwing back in pleasure, barely holding in his own noises, attaching your hips to his for a bit.

"f- fffuck... never seen anyone squirt like that before. y'wanna do it again?"

[asidian]

I've seen a lot of really excellent analysis on Charles' reaction to Edwin's confession, but there's a huge aspect that I haven't seen talked about at all yet. And that is, namely:

Charles Rowland is a people-pleaser.

Doesn't seem like there's a connection there, does it? Have a seat, my friends. Let me break this down.

The show lays the groundwork for this aspect of Charles' personality early. It's one of the very first things we learn about him, in fact. He's kind and agreeable and helpful, and he's always, always smiling. When Crystal insults him, he laughs it off. When Crystal and Edwin fight, he scrambles to diffuse the situation. He calls himself "a good sort of a chap," and it's important to him that he is.

In episode 3, we find out why. At home, love was always conditional for him. He spent his entire life trying to please his father, and he confesses to Crystal that no matter how nice he was, or how good at sports, it was never enough. That's how Charles sees the world. If he can make people happy, he might actually be good enough for them to love him.

Not only didn't he earn his father's affection, he didn't even manage, in his own eyes, to clear the low bar of being good enough to earn the privilege of not being hurt. And his mother, he says, was "quiet." From the flashback we see, she never stepped in for him or defended him. However hard he was trying, it wasn't enough to get her to intervene on his behalf.

So who else does he have? His "friends"? The ones who literally murder him when he steps in to stop them from doing a terrible thing? The act he put on wasn't enough to win them over in the end, either. However friendly he was, however personable, they turned on him and left him for dead.

Then he meets Edwin.

And when he meets Edwin, he's at his absolute lowest. He's not smiling and putting on a show, for once. He's in a corner of an attic cowering while he slowly freezes to death. But here comes Edwin, offering him kindness, and company, and comfort.

All these things that Charles has spent his whole life chasing, trying to be good enough to earn? Edwin just gives them to him.

Of course he stays with this boy. Edwin is there when he's lost in the dark, shining a light to guide the way. Edwin has seen him unsmiling and afraid, not a shred of his usual act in place, and Edwin has offered him kindness anyway.

So they begin their time together. And what are the things Charles will pick up on almost immediately?

Edwin says right away that he's spent ages in hell. He's plainly had an awful time. He doesn't know how to handle people anymore, but Charles, he knows how to be amiable, how to smile, how to offer levity when things get grim.

So he does. He falls back into what he thinks Edwin needs, the way he always tried to be what his father wanted to see. In the very first episode, he tells Crystal, "I try to be extra happy for all of us, don't I? And I do a pretty good job."

He doesn't ever discuss his own trauma because these boys are terrible at communication, but more than that. He doesn't ever bring it up because he's busy being the support he thinks Edwin needs.

And importantly, Charles doesn't have the self-reflection skills to realize that's what he's doing. Crystal clocks him with shocking accuracy, three episodes in. "He's been hiding it from you," she tells Edwin. "Probably been hiding it from himself." She's spot-on here: when Charles doesn't want to examine his own emotions, or can't face them, he shoves them down under a smile and he carries on pretending.

But that's not the only thing Charles will have picked up on from Edwin.

It's blindingly obvious that Edwin is bad at people. He's terribly repressed. He's from a culture in which emotional honesty and physical affection were not valued or encouraged. But more than any of that, Edwin has his sexual awakening during the events of the show. Before then, he is absolutely clueless about his own wants.

So we have a situation where a consummate people-pleaser who has spent his entire life learning that he has to earn affection finds his way into a friendship with the first person who ever saw him with his mask down and gave him kindness anyway.

Of course he stays with this boy. Of course he wants to keep this.

And what's the best way Charles knows to win someone over? Well, by being what he thinks they want.

So, out come the smiles, for Edwin's sake as much as his own. But more importantly, out comes whatever Charles thinks he needs to perform, in order to keep what is the single most important relationship in his entire life and afterlife.

At this point, Edwin has shown zero romantic or sexual interest, not just in Charles, but in anyone at all. He doesn't especially seem inclined to dating, or to romance, or even to physical affection.

So Charles takes his cues from Edwin, and the cues are very firmly, for thirty years: this boy doesn't have a glimmer of interest in him, not that way.

Fast-forward to the events of the show. Fast-forward to a staircase in hell, where they are being chased by a literal demon. Suddenly his best mate, who he has spent thirty years with, who is his most important person in the world, is saying that he's in love with him.

Of course he needs a minute. Of course he has to sort that through. Any feelings he has for Edwin are things that he has spent literal decades firmly ignoring in the scramble to try and earn affection by being what he thinks Edwin needs him to be.

Because Charles is a people-pleaser at heart. And he may be dreadful at self-reflection, but he is aces at hiding things from himself.

[hiitsm]

Beneath the Surface: The Second Piece

Beneath the Surface is for 18+ only.

Angst & Smut is included in this Second Piece.

-

Other parts of Beneath the Surface: The Broken Heart Pieces

-

It's been two weeks now, and you still haven't heard anything from your girlfriend—or is it ex-girlfriend now?

You try to respect her wishes and give her the space she asked for, but it doesn't provide any answers.

The lack of clarity gnaws at you.

Why does she need space?

The thought that she must have been struggling in your presence without you noticing fills you with sadness. You feel an overwhelming sense of failure for not having been there to help her.

But that feeling of failure quickly gives way to your own sadness and anger.

She left you a letter.

You had been together for almost three years.

How could she just leave you with a letter?

You turn onto your side in bed, letting the tears flow freely once more. You've been isolating yourself from the world, unwilling to leave the sanctuary of your bed.

Everything around you reminds you of her, and you're not the type to discard those memories. You cling to a sliver of hope.

After all, she said she hoped to see you again when the time is right, didn't she? Or is it wrong to hold onto that hope?

Perhaps you should try to let go.

But even the mere thought of letting her go makes your chest feel heavy and your breaths come faster.

No, you can't bring yourself to let her go.

A couple of days ago, you ended up taking nearly all of your vacation days at work. Fortunately, none of your colleagues were on vacation, allowing you to get the time off.

This meant you could spend three weeks crying and isolating yourself in your apartment, avoiding not only the world but also the workplace where you had met her.

You quickly push that thought aside, remembering when the two of you first met, and finally summon the strength to get out of bed.

Clad only in a sports bra and boxers, you grab a rather large t-shirt from your closet.

It's hers.

Despite knowing you shouldn’t, you put it on anyway.

The fabric feels soft, and it still carries a hint of her scent.

It comforts your hurt, if only a little.

You walk to your kitchen and try to eat a banana, though your appetite demands nothing. Still, you know you need to eat something, so you slowly nibble on the banana.

When you're done, you walk to the bathroom to freshen up a bit. Not that it will help much. You've cried your eyes out for days and look like a wreck no matter what you do.

As you open the towel closet, a small book falls from the top shelf, hitting you on the head with a painful thud. You grunt a little while picking it up from the floor.

You hold your breath.

It's the scrapbook you had been making for your third anniversary with Alexia, which would have been in two weeks.

You had hidden it from her in the towel closet, knowing she never looks on the top shelves.

In the midst of everything, you had completely forgotten about it yourself.

You open it.

You shouldn't.

But you do.

And seeing the first page with the first picture makes you cry all over again.

It's not just any picture of the two of you together.

It's a picture filled with so much emotion, capturing a moment that holds a world of feelings within it.

It's the two of you in bed, just waking up from your first time just sharing the night together.

You know that for Alexia, this has been her favorite memory of the two of you so far.

She had woken up first and watched you, feeling you safely in her arms, a moment she wished she could wake up to every day.

But would it still be her favorite memory?

She insisted that you should be the little spoon. You remember her voice, urging you to take a picture, saying, "Come on, we should take a picture, Bebita. For our memories. Our first night together. it's a special memory, just for the two of us. It will look cute like this," and oh she was right. Because it did look cute.

You still feel so much love when you look at her in that picture.

It shatters your heart into a million little pieces all over again.

You close the scrapbook in a second, unable to bear the flood of memories and emotions that come rushing back.

But you couldn't push all the memories away.

They flooded back, overwhelming you.

And as you try to return to your bed, another wave of memories hits you.

A very special, intimate memory that you couldn't push away.

No matter how hard you tried.

-

Alexia was rolling her hips, slowly rocking into you.

Your girlfriend had proposed trying out a strap-on, something new for both of you. The fact that she had asked you and trusted you enough to explore new things together made you say yes in an instant.

Now that you were laying on your back, with Alexia and her strap between your legs, you still struggled a bit with keeping the stress at bay.

It was something new, and you weren't quite used to the stretch.

But it felt good, so good.

And the overwhelming feeling you got when you watched your girlfriend hovered over you and between your legs made you feel things you have never felt before.

Which is a little scary if you are being honest.

But with every soft kiss she gave you, you felt yourself being pulled back into the moment.

Being pulled back into her.

"You're doing so well, you're being so good to me," your girlfriend whispered softly into your ear, eliciting a small moan from you.

The room was quiet, bathed in the gentle glow of four candles placed in each corner of Alexia's bedroom.

"Are you still feeling okay, mi vida?" She always checked in on you, wanting you to enjoy this as much as she did.

You nodded slowly, still trying to steady your breathing, feeling the slight tension on the surface.

Alexia noticed, as she always did.

"Should I slow down a little?" She whispered softly, her gaze searching yours for an answer.

When you didn't respond, she stopped with rocking her hips back and forth completely.

"Amor, look at me please," she asked, and she gently tilted your head, trying to meet your eyes.

"It's okay if you want me to slow down. This is the first time we're trying this, and I know it's something new for both of us," she assured you softly, easing your nerves.

"I'm so happy and grateful that you want to try this with me. Whatever you feel, whether you want me to speed up or slow down, we'll do it. I promise that I'll listen to you." Her words enveloped you in comfort, and you tilted your head up slightly to meet her lips in a soft kiss.

You smile softly at her. "Thank you, amor. Lo siento. I'm just a little taken aback by how good it feels. How good you feel," you murmur, reaching up to kiss her neck softly.

Your gesture elicits a moan from your girlfriend's lips, her hand squeezing your right breast softly.

"Please, go on, mi vida. Make me feel so good," you whisper, kissing her earlobe gently.

All your stress melted away, replaced by a newfound confidence.

You reveled in her reassurance, knowing you could trust her completely.

As her hips sped up again, you both moaned in pure pleasure.

The tension built between you, both aware that you weren't going to hold back.

The edge was approaching, and you both knew you would take each other over it.

"You look so beautiful, Bebita," she urged, setting an even better pace, her fingers teasing your clit, just the right amount.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt that familiar sensation, but even more intense.

"You make me feel so good. Come with me, amor," she whispered, biting softly on your collarbone.

You watched her, the rhythmic motion up and down, a beautiful sight that sent you right over the edge.

Together.

With her.

-

She was always so kind, so gentle, so full of love for you.

You could feel her love radiating from her, a constant source of warmth and reassurance.

Yet, you still couldn't understand how this could happen, how she could leave you.

Doubts start to creep in.

Maybe it was your fault.

Maybe you weren't enough for her as a girlfriend.

Maybe you needed to change things about yourself.

She had doubts, right? Maybe those doubts were about you.

Your mind spirals back into self-doubt, grappling with questions that seem to have no answers.

You try to close your eyes and just sleep it off.

And you're so exhausted that the moment your head hits the pillow, you fall asleep immediately.

-

Six weeks later you set foot in the stadium you have always loved so deeply once more. You knew it would stir old memories—memories of better days.

To be honest, you hadn't wanted to return to this place. But your friends insisted on dragging you out of your apartment, and after all, it was the Copa de La Reina final.

Barcelona would always hold a special place in your heart. And who would you be if FC Barcelona, especially FC Barcelona Femení, were not a part of it?

Your friends knew you had isolated yourself from the world for a couple of weeks now, but they didn't fully understand why.

You hadn't mentioned your girlfriend in a while, and they were careful not to bring it up. They understood that if you hadn't spoken about it yet, you were still trying to make sense of everything on your own.

But even if you tried, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it. How could you, when it still hurt too much to even think about?

But your friends wouldn't be your friends if they didn't try to help you in the ways you needed, even if they didn't know exactly what that was.

That's why they invited you to watch this match. And that's why you couldn't bring yourself to say no—because they were your closest friends, and they were trying so hard.

You were quiet, but your friends were glad you came with them. You were quiet because you knew every single detail about football, analyzing the match unconsciously.

A few years ago, you didn't even know what offside was. But then you met her, and everything changed. You wanted to understand everything about football because it was her passion.

And she was your everything. So you made it your mission to know every single aspect of the game.

You didn't notice a tear streaming down your face until one of your friends gently wiped it away. You looked into her eyes, and she gave you a soft smile, wrapping one arm around your shoulder in a comforting side hug.

The match ended with FC Barcelona Femení triumphing 8-0. You felt like a proud culé, swelling with pride for her.

She had played an amazing game, even though she hadn't started.

Despite the hurt she caused you, the love you felt for her remained undiminished.

You couldn't escape the overwhelming wave of love that washed over you as you watched her from a safe distance.

The safe distance was soon to be over as your friends wanted to move closer to the players to congratulate them on their fantastic performance.

You always thought it was a bit much, but seeing the happy faces of your friends, you couldn't resist. This time, however, you felt hesitant.

Still, you didn't want them to ask any questions, so you reluctantly went with them.

You were lost in your thoughts, staring at the grass, when you looked up and saw her. Your everything. The very essence of your heart, who had broke your heart into a million little pieces.

You knew right away, that coming to this match was a mistake.

You feel a panic attack coming.

You noticed that she had stopped in her tracks, shock evident in her expression upon seeing you there.

Emotions surged within you as memories flooded back.

Suddenly, you could feel her laughter against your neck as she hugged you from behind.

You could feel her gentle touch on your skin as she made love to you in your favorite way.

You could feel her strong hands on the sides of your waist when she was rocking you both slowly to the music inside your own apartment.

It was overwhelming.

You needed to escape.

You thought you had picked up a small piece of your broken heart when you set foot in this stadium.

But as you reached for the second piece, it slipped in your grip when you looked into her eyes.

Taking the first piece with it.

It hurts.

Sending your friends a wave goodbye, you rushed out of the stadium, leaving them slightly confused.

You didn't know that Alexia longed to come after you.

But she couldn't reach out to you, not right now.

You didn't know how deeply she regretted hurting you.

But she couldn't reenter your life with just an apology.

You didn't know how much love swelled in her heart when she saw you after so long.

But she couldn't act on those feelings, not yet.

You didn't know that she desperately wanted to make things right.

But she couldn't, not at that moment, because she doesn't know how.

-

Note: Thank you for taking the time to read my fics. I truly appreciate your support and hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy writing them.

Beneath the Surface: The Third Piece, will be out next sunday.

[cleopheanne]

Vedic/ Sidereal observations

- If you have any proeminent Jyestha placement please go buy an evil eye protection, it can be any jewelry with eye imagerie on it not only the classic cristal one that we often see but make sure that it is very visible on you.

The evil eye that is often projected on jyestha is basically a curse, people see your potential even though you crawl in dirt like a scorpio you see. They observe your resilience evolving in a state without resources and fear what you may become once you acquire this abundance, so they manifest your failure DON'T EVER TELL ANYONE YOUR PLANS even if they are family idc

- If you are one of those that went through rahu/ketu antardasha as an adolescent/young adult saturn mahadasa don't got nothing on you , I would say that first the energy of Saturn is difficult because it requires you to actually put in the work: you can not escape it, however when you finally submit and accept it you will often harvest the fruits of your efforts.

Ketu does not work like that at all, your current actions don't actually matter in a ketu ruled period it is your past karma that is resurging, Ketu will take away everything that you actually have not only material possessions but also intellectual ones: opinions, your self-image relationships, everything that makes you appreciate the material world, you cannot truly try to girlboss your way out of a ketu dasa the best thing that you can do is SURRENDER, meditate, be introspective, journal, practice yoga and pick a solitary sport and allow yourself to contemplate life

- Saturn in the 4th house, conjunct moon, or in cancer will destroy the health of the mother

- Mercurials and Martians shouldn't expect empathy from anybody sadly, I don't know why but society seems to agree on the fact that they do not deserve to be understood, taken with softness and respect one thing I think it is due to is the fact that they often appear as very stoic, they keep their emotions often to themselves conserving a very cold even bitchy appearance so people often treat them badly based on this impression, they are often met with the 'you think you are better than us ?' anyway

-I've seen many western astrology post saying how many celebrities have scorpio moons right and it make so much more sense when you see that most of them have their moon in sidereal libra rashi, since saturn is exalted in libra, and saturn is the one who grant tangible material abundance, libras have a natural understanding of how to manifest that abundance: they know how to manipulate the material world, using Māyā.

- Ketuvians how about stoping to hide under the guise of disgust and admit that all you really want is to be included and cared about ?

-Purva Ashada men will have the most long, luscious hair ever beyond that they are often stunning and they conserve a kind of androgynous appearance if often they physique is very masculine with hard features they will have the softest voices, most delicate manners ever, it would be so cool to see them take care of a pet. On a darker side this nakshatra is very recurrent in cult leaders even fictional ones lol

-Dhanista and Revati would do great in bellydancing since both of these nakshatras have instruments associated with them, rhythm is innate to their functioning.

- Rohini women are so funny to be around when they get over their insecurities, they are sometimes so insecure it's just hurtful for me to see that, they will break off their bonds with people especially other women over jealousy and not realize that they are the problem, acting like pick mes, making subtle diss and wonder why they are left alone at the end ! If everybody as a problem (as in you are in an argument ) with you and you are not nodal (ketuvian or rahuvian) you are probably the problem 🤷🏾‍♀️. A little introspection shouldn't scare you 😙 that's how you grow as a person

- I strongly admire Anuradha people, their resilience is unmatched like their bone structure, the most gorgeous faces like they were sculpted by Michael Angelo himself

- Mars and Jupiter are bestfriends so you will notice that in real life most bestfriends have this combination of placements or they can have Venus/Saturn too as these two planets are also best friends

- Purva Phalguni/ leo men are so vulgar lol, they scare the hell out of me, Venusian men in general they act like they will eat you alive 🥲

- Rahuvians deal with a lot of mental issues I've seen mostly chronic depression that can lead to suicide in some cases 😕 if you have proeminent rahu placement, try get more in touch with you ketu placement it has helped me a lot, for example ketu in the first house: self-care, protect your energy and your space do not allow anybody to enter it, take extra care of your body exercise, meditate. Ketu in the 6th house: put yourself at the service of other people, in the 11th house: force yourself to join a community, an organization etc

- I've recently saw an interview of Mia Khalifa and she talked about her childhood and her struggles with her weight and turns out she has a Virgo moon in hasta, it made realize how much Virgo women often struggles with their alimentation in general, they have many toxic behaviors regarding the consumption of food and many many of them have had ED or still have it. It's crazy to see that when the constellation of Virgo symbol is an ear of wheat so it associated with bread and eating in general and the natives of this sign have abnormal behaviors towards food.

[patscorner]

What Love Broke

Summary: You and your girlfriend go through a rough patch

wc: 2,144

Contains: angst, couple kisses, reader petty asf

______________________________

You don't exactly remember what started the argument, but you knew it had escalated far more than it should've.

“I'm just saying- it's so unfair how you can't manage to come to a single one of my games when I've been to every one of yours!”

“Oh, I'm sorry that I'm busy with actual things to do. Maybe if you played an actual sport, I'd come to one!” Neshy shouted back at you, her accent thick.

Things have been tense for a while between you and Ines, the stress of your upcoming softball tournament and her basketball tournament stopping you from seeing each other. The wall between you two was built by two people who were so in love that it was painful.

Now here you both are, arguing in front of your closest friends, desperately trying to hold onto the last string that connected your hearts.

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

Ines’s face flashed a twinge of regret, but quickly recovered. “Nothing, look-”

“No, I fucking knew it! I knew that's why you never came to games. You weren't busy, you just didn't fucking care!”

The evening started fine, some of the team gathering in Paige’s dorm to hang out before practice the next morning. Ines had been unusually cold, and everyone noticed her icy demeanor. It was embarrassing for you, so you tried to subtly ask if you'd done something, only to be met with the same frozen heart.

You tried to let it go, but as the night went on, you’d had enough. You had dragged her into a separate room in an attempt to fix whatever you had broken.

Which led you to now, the pair of you, face to face, shouting at each other.

“I care! All I do is care! You're so fucking ungrate-”

“Bullshit, Neshy!” You ran your hand over your face, a weak attempt to calm yourself.

“How can you call me ungrateful when all-”

“Because, with all I do in this relationship, you don't do anything to match it!” her accent ringing through the air thickly.

“With all you do?!! What about all the time I've put in?! All the time spent watching your fucking games, instead of doing homework of my own! All the times I've stayed up going to games, then going to an afterparty, just to watch you get drunk!” your voice shakes at this, but it doesn't matter, not to her anyway.

“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was such an inconvenience for you to support your girlfriend!” Ines had been pacing this whole time, clearly overwhelmed, and normally you'd respect it. You drop it and pick it up later, but this time, this time, she was gonna listen to what you had to say.

You scoff out a dry laugh. “It's not an inconvenience, Ines, it's just not reciprocated. And until you figure that out, don't bother coming.” You turn to face the door, tired of this argument, tired of fighting, tired of this.

“So that's it?! We're gonna leave it like this?!” She asked, her voice carrying a different kind of weight to it.

“I'm tired, Neshy. I can't keep fighting you like this.” You say spinning around.

She's quiet for a bit, clearly thinking of where to go from here. You can almost hear her thoughts, her face flipping through emotions, until she picked one. The same one she's had all day.

“Don't come to any of my games, then.” She hissed out.

Your heart stuttered, but you didn't let her see that. “Okay.” Is all you say before you turn around and leave, closing the door behind you.

You walk out, finally allowing the tears to fall before remembering you weren't in your own dorm, meeting the eyes of your girlfriend's teammates.

Their eyes carry pity and sympathy as they reach yours.You wipe your eyes before grabbing your phone and mumbling a goodbye.

It's a day before the game between Uconn and Syracuse, the second round of the NCAA Tournament. It's been 3 days, 13 hours, 6 minutes, and 40 seconds (but who's counting) since you've talked to Ines. During those painful hours, you've left your dorm once. One to return a notebook to Paige that you'd borrowed for math help.

You'd seen your girlfriend around campus a couple of times, but quickly avoided her gaze. Your entire goal was to cool off before you went to the game the next day, but that plan failed when you returned to your dorm to your room unlocked.

At first, you panicked, but when you saw Ines in the kitchen, you let out a breath of relief. You set your keys on the counter and your bags on the floor.

“What're you doing here?” You ask softly.

She yelps, putting her hand on her chest. “Jesus, you scared the fuck outta me.”

“Sorry.” you mumble.

“It's okay.”

The silence between you both is not the comfortable one you were used to. This silence was loud, filled with the unspoken words of your hearts. You stare at your feet, avoiding the intense gaze from Neshy.

“What're you doing here?” You repeat.

“I-I, uh, left my jersey here. I didn't think you'd be home soon.” she whispers the last part.

You raise your eyebrows. “So that's why you're in my kitchen?”

Her eyes widened. “Wha- oh, uh. I jus- I noticed your Brita was out of water, so I was just filling it up.”

Your heart shattered. Even after all the fighting you two have done, she still shows that she cares.

You nod. “Thank you, that's- that's very sweet.”

She just hums in acknowledgement, before grabbing her jersey off the counter and heading for the door. You watch her as she turns around to you.

“Are you coming to the game?”

“Oh-uh. I don't know.” You whisper.

“Please.” She begs.

“Neshy.”

“Jus- think about it. Please. I need you there.”

You sigh. “I'll see.”

“Okay.” She opens the door, but turns around and walks back towards you, pulling you into her chest by your waist.

Her lips interlock with yours briefly, a silent plea for you to go.

“I love you.” she whispers.

“I love you, too.” you smile sadly.

And with that, she walks out and closes the door behind her.

Tomorrow comes sooner than you wish, and so does the game. After careful consideration, (and a long conversation with Nika) you decide to go to the game. Even though you were still upset, and the relationship was far from fixed, Ines was your girlfriend, and you were going to support her, regardless of hurt feelings. Plus, you were still friends with the rest of the girls, and wanted to support them as well.

You still didn't want to talk to Neshy, and you made it a goal to avoid her at all costs. At that point, you knew you were being petty, but you didn't care.

Uconn won the game, Ines scoring three 3s and getting a crucial steal at the end of the third quarter. Even though her head was elsewhere, she played well. As you sit in the stands, you help but feel disappointment. She never cared enough to come to one of your games. She never experienced being in the stands, cheering on her girlfriend like you had. She had no idea what that was like and didn't seem to care to find out. Regardless, you couldn't help but feel your heart swell with pride for her. You considered staying and waiting for her, like you usually do. You were undoubtedly happy for her, but she hurt you. You wanted to stay. You wanted to hug her and whisper her congratulations. You wanted to kiss all the angry words you'd exchanged away. That's what you wanted.

But what you needed to do was protect your peace. You needed her to care. You needed 50-50, not 75-25. You needed change. Something had to change.

Your heart fought with your feet as you walked out of the stadium, nobody stopping you.

A knock sounded startled you awake. You groaned as you rolled over, ignoring the interruption of your sleep. Well, you tried, but it didn't work, as whoever it was, knocked again. You grumbled as you rolled out of bed, cursing whoever woke you up at– you check your phone –3:23am.

You swing the door open, to see none other than your girlfriend, and boy, did she look pissed. Her eyes were red and puffy, and bags stark against her pale skin.

“Where were you?” She demands.

“Ines, it's three thirty in the fucking morning. Do you really want to do this right now?”

“You seriously didn't come? I thought you'd be mature enough to put one stupid fight behind us, but you clearly aren't. Like, I'd love to hear the reasoning.”

“Neshy-”

“No, no, actually, never mind. I don't wanna hear whatever your bullshit excuse would be.”

“Ines.” she was spiraling right in front of you, and it was the hardest thing for you to watch.

“I don't even know why I came here. You probably don't even have a good reason. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you forgot.” She rambles. “I can't do this, goodnight.”

And with that she walked away. You contemplated letting her go. She told you what she was thinking, and she seemed pretty sure of herself. But you shook your head, clearing them of those thoughts. She didn't mean it, and you both knew that. You knew that if you let her leave, she might not ever come back.

You stepped out of your dorm in your her large tee-shirt and sweats. “I was at the game.” You call after her. She pauses before looking back at you. She'd made it halfway down the hall at that point. Damn that athletic speed.

“W-what?” Her eyes twinkle with surprise and her eyebrows furrow.

“Come inside.” You say, moving to make room for her in the doorway. You watch her as she walks back to you, pausing for a moment, seemingly looking for permission. The politeness is foreign to you, but you respect it.

You nod before following her inside. She walked into your dorm, and stood at the island.

You wordlessly walk to the refrigerator and get the Brita filter that she'd filled, pouring you both glasses of water. You walk up to her, chest to chest, and set the glass on the table. You look at her, and wipe her tears gently. You feel her hands hesitantly hover over your waist. You almost roll your eyes. It didn't have to be like this.

“You came…? But I didn't see you, a-and you didn't say hi after.”

“I know. I'm sorry. I should've said hi, but I was still pissed.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around her neck.

You both look at each other for a beat before you speak again.

“It can't be like this.” She hums and nods in agreement. “I know.”

“I just need fifty-fifty. I understand if you don't have time during the week, you're an athlete, I'm an athlete, and it's bound to happen. I get all of that. But it can't be like this.” You gesture between the two of you.

Ines nods again. “Okay. I'm sorry. I'm just stressed, I didn't mean anything I said, I was just upset.” She mutters shamefully.

“I know.” You say leaning close to her. Your lips ghost across hers and your heart pounds at the way her breath hitches.

Ines pushes her lips against yours, whining so quiet you almost miss it. Almost.

You break the kiss, locking eyes with her once again. “It's late. Let's go to bed. We can talk in the morning.” You whisper. She nods and you can see the exhaustion set in. She probably hasn't slept in days.

You lead her to your room, falling into the familiar rhythm that is cuddling. You face her as she wraps her arms around your waist, your face buried in the crook of her neck. You listen to Ines take a deep breath, inhaling your scent as if you'll disappear. You press a kiss on her collarbone, humming.

“Neshy?” You whisper. She opens one eye, grunting in acknowledgment.

“You ever yell at me in front of the team again, I will beat your ass.” You smile, but she knows you're dead serious.

“No need, KK said she'd beat my ass if I ever made you cry again.” You let out a soft giggle, moving impossibly closer to her.

“Good.”

“Mhm.” She mumbles, closing her eyes once again. You shift up to kiss her lips before returning to your previous position. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight, my love.”

Even though your relationship was far from fixed, there's no harm in a night's sleep before you mend what love broke.

______________________________

taglist: @wintersstan @bueckerslover @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @girlokwhatever @pbloverr @breeloveschris-deactivated20240 @cosmopretty @hellokittyfeenie @averagelobotomyenjoyer @elliewilliamsthang

[chris-slut]

BIRTHDAY SEX

pairing: dom!chris x sub!reader

summary: chris, being the forgetful boyfriend he is, forgot to get you birthday gift. you try to hold your emotions in but chris can tell your pissed off. he tells you he has an idea on how he can make it up to you..

!all chris p.o.v.!

!warnings!: SMUT, pet names (ma, princess, sweetheart, who’re, mama, slut), oral; fem!receiving, no p in v, fingering, daddy kink?, aftercare (fluff i guess?).

author’s note: first post on here, probably the last to since i have no clue how to fully use tumblr 😭.

“HEY BIRTHDAY girl!” nick says as he walks into the room, holding a bag full of who knows what. my eyebrow raises as i replay what my brother said.

fuck.

i run my hands over my face as i notice her, my girlfriend, walk out in the sluttiest little black dressed that hugged her curves in ways i didn’t know were possible.

a huge smiles plastered on her face, grabbing the bag right out of my brothers hand, “thank you nickkk,” she tells him.

i can’t believe i forgot my own girlfriends birthday.

she walks over to me and sits down on the couch, her legs crossing over mine. “hi baby,” she whispers to me as i turn my head to look at her.

her hairs straightened and is laying over shoulders, her mascara clumped on. all i can think about is how it would look running down her face while i fuck her brains out.

“hey mama,” i tell her. she looks at me like she’s waiting for something— a birthday present of course. i look at her in guilt as i bite my lip.

“what’s wrong?” she asks me as her hands rub over my thighs, looking up at my through her lashes. my breathe hitches as i feel her hands rub circles against me.

“i uhm—“ i say, clearing my throat, “forget your birthday present.” i watch as her eyes shut close for a second as a sigh escapes her lips. i fucked up.

“i’m sorry sweetheart, i really am!” i whisper yell, not wanting my brothers to hear. she shakes her head as she laughs dryly.

“it’s fine chris. i thought you would anyway,” she says as she stands up and places the bag nick gave her on the table.

i watch from the couch as she walks up the stairs. her dress slowly going up. i know shes pissed off, so i sit here and wait for her to cool off.

a few minutes later matt walks in, looking at the empty spot next to me and raising an eyebrow. “where’s your girl?” he asks as i shrug, “upstairs somewhere.”

i watch as his eyes roll and he shakes his head. “are you not gonna go after her?” he says as my tongue pokes the inside of my cheek, “guess i will.”

standing up, i place my phone down on the coffee table in front of me and quickly walk up the stairs, knocking on her door.

no response.

taking matter into my own hands, i open the door to find her standing there in only her slutty little pajama shorts and a sports bra.

she quickly turns to look at me, her eyes meeting mine. i waste no time shutting and locking the door, biting my lip as i walk up to her.

“hey there princess,” i whisper as my hands land on her waist, placing soft kisses along her jawline. i hear her heart beat fasten as she doesn’t reply.

“you were just having some attitude downstairs and now you can’t reply, what’s with that?” i mumble as my lips trail slowly down her neck, placing wet and sloppy kisses along her throat.

“fuck chris—“ she whimpers out as her hands land in my hair, tugging on it slightly. the only thing that does for me is turn me on more than i already am, placing a harder bite onto her neck.

“lay.” i tell her, she backs up and falls back on the bed. “look at you, listening to me like a little slut,” i chuckle dryly as i kiss down to her exposed cleavage.

without asking, i rip the sports bra off and throw it to god knows where, attacking her breast with sloppy kisses. “shit..” her breathe hitches as i place a nipple in my mouth, twirling my tongue around it.

“oh fuck,” she moans a little louder than before, my fingers going to her lips. “can’t be so loud baby, don’t want them to hear do you?” her head quickly shakes as i shove my fingers into her mouth. “suck,” i tell her.

i feel her slowly starts to suck on my fingers as i slowly start placing wet and sloppy kissing all down to under her belly button. she whimpers every kiss i place, turning me on more and more.

my fingers slide out her mouth, a pop noise coming from her mouth. her hips buck as i slide her shorts off.

my eyes widen as her bare pussy is on display in front of my face, “such a slut, not wearing any underwear. you knew i was coming up were— didn’t you?” i ask as she nods.

“words please.” that causes a moan to escape past her lips, “yes- i knew you were gonna come up here.” shit that turned me on more than it should.

i place her legs over my shoulders as i run the fingers that were covered in her saliva over her folds, whimpers escaping out her mouth. “fuck, don’t stop,” she moans as her back arches.

i plunge my middle finger inside of her, curving them as i move my tongue to lick her folds. her hips slowly buck forward, trying to get more of my finger into her.

pushing her hips down, i remove my finger, “who said you can be in control?” i reply in a growl as both my ring and middle finger enter her.

i move them in and out at a medium place as i place my face between her thighs, sucking thighs slowly, teasing her the most i can.

“jesus fuck chris, don’t be a tease!” she says as i remove my fingers, wanting nothing more than to taste her on my tongue instead.

my mouth lands on her clit, sucking on it slowly as i place my hands on her hips to hold them hold. my tongue plunges inside of her as my nose rubs against her. i go up and down as i use my nose to pleasure her folds.

“when did you learn to- FUCK- do this!” she moans out and places her hands in my hand grinding her pussy against my face the slightest bit.

“been thinking about doing this to you, wanting to use you like the slut you are,” i mumble back from her clit, sucking in all the juices i can.

i flick my tongue up and down at the fastest pace i can, my hands now drawing shapes on her thighs as i hear her whimpering, a pillow now shoved on her face.

“look at you, such a little whore you can even keep it down,” i say as i hear her moan, “fuck chris— please don’t stop!”

“why shouldn’t i?” i ask as i slowly pull away, her hands pushing my head back down. “i’m so close, so close chris!” she says which makes me smirk, putting my face right back into her pussy.

slowly, i start spelling my name out. when she notices what i’m doing, she moans a little louder than before. guess i know what turns her.

h. her hands grip against her bed comforter under her, grinding her face against mine the best she could.

r. “d-daddy!” i hear her moan, the only thing that does is fasten my past. hearing her call me daddy made me do more then just spell my name.

i. my nails dig into her thighs as i spell it more aggressively. “you have no clue what saying that’s done ma,” i mumble from her clit.

s. i feel the pre cum coming out of my tip. shit the way her back arches, the scratches i left on her thighs, her slutty little waist shaking, it’s all making me act like a fucking animal. i pull away as i start to place nearly five sloppy kisses against her clit, thighs and anywhere else my body lets me move to.

t. i move my head right back down to her pussy, spelling t as aggressive as i can, “fuck chris, gonna cum!” she moans out as i rub her hips, running my hands up and grasp her tits, “cum on my tongue like the slut you are.”

o— fuck. her hot liquid squirts onto my face and mouth. i feel her whimper out of pleasure as her back arches once last time. licking the liquid off my face with my tongue, i crawl up to her and pull her into one last sloppy, wet, make out.

“you like that, don’t you? feeling yourself all on my tongue. fuck your so hot baby,” i mutter against her lips as i pull away. she’s looking at me through her eyelashes again which makes me place a few more sloppy kisses against her chest, marking spots only i could see.

the air smells like sex, sweat dripping from her body as she grabs her shorts. “no way, i’ll go get towels and clean you up baby.”

throwing my sweatpants on and running out the room, i grab her a towel and walk back to her room. “here, sit up baby,” i whisper as i rub her body, her biting her lip as she watches me.

i reach over to her clean laundry bin and grab her a pair of plaid pajama pants and a tank top, throwing them on for her. “you feel better sweetheart?” i ask as she nods.

throwing my black t-shirt on, i ruffle my hair up and grab a new blanket. she lays down on my chest as soon as i sit in the bed and i run my fingers through her hair.

“i’m sorry for forgetting your birthday present mama,” i tell her as she nods. “i think i would take that over a birthday present any day.”

i smirk as i place a kiss against her hairline and temple, wrapping the blanket around her. “oh yeah?” i tease as i feel her cuddle as close to me as she can.

“oh yeah, for sure.”

like said , don’t expect me to post again cause this shit is ass 😭😭.

[roanniom]

What Comes After

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: When Steve waits too long after you give birth to initiate sex, you take matters into your own hands.

Note: I know very very little about pregnancy and the aftermath. Most of this comes from what I read in other fics, what I’ve vaguely heard from my friends, and a 5 min google search about lactation. Sorry in advance if this is incorrect.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, angst that resolves, mentions of pregnancy / babies / parenthood, PIV/unprotected sex, lactation during sex

After you give birth to your baby, you completely assumed Steve would be itching to ravish you the minute your doctor gave the all clear. In fact, you’d been mentally preparing yourself for that since before you went into labor. Those first few weeks afterwards were as rough as people had warned you and then some, but you couldn’t imagine it without your Steve.

Steve who was there beside you for absolutely everything. Late night feedings, mid day crying sessions, general panic attacks about how to do anything right for the first time, really. You’d wake up to hear him in the next room, holding and rocking your daughter back to sleep, his hushed voice soothing her whimpers and in turn lulling you back to rest.

It’s not that you thought the man capable of being such a loving, gentle partner in this new stage of life would turn into some ravenous monster at the first suggestion of sex. It’s just that he’d always been such an attentive, eager, enthusiastic lover, and that had only magnified as your pregnancy had gone on. Your hormones had made you insatiable, especially toward the end. Steve had very much gotten used to you needing to use him like a toy often - sometimes multiple times a day. So it just stands to reason that he would be absolutely itching to get back to it.

But the day of your follow up doctor's appointment came and went and...nothing. You'd come home and let him know the good news, a way smile on your face as you braced for his celebration. Steve had just looked at you over the baby's head where he had her cradled to his chest and smiled.

"Glad to hear you're healing up right, sweetheart!"

And that was that.

You'd assumed maybe he was holding himself back for your daughter's sake. So that night you'd climbed into bed wearing something slightly nicer than the long flowy nightgowns you'd taken to sporting the last few months. You applied a bit of perfume at your pulse points and rubbed a little lotion on your legs. Steve walked in shortly after running a final sweep of the apartment, making sure everything is off and locked up (he's fallen perfectly into the protective father stereotype), and when he crossed the threshold you beamed at him.

"Look at you. All smiley and beautiful and cozy," Steve cooed, sliding into bed beside you. His arms encircled you and pulled you against his body and again, you felt yourself steeling your nerves, ready for the inevitable escalation. So much so that you leaned up to initiate yourself, pressing your lips against your husband's throat. Steve hummed against your ministrations before doing the last thing you thought he'd do - he kissed the top of your head and turned you in his arms, nestling you into a warm, firm grip.

"Good night, baby. Love you," he whispered in your ear.

And that was that.

You'd been pretty surprised by the lack of action. A little rattled actually. But as Steve's breathing evened out and his arms around you became heavier with sleep, you'd reminded yourself that you hadn't really felt ready anyway. Your feelings of rejection assuaged, you'd allowed sleep to take you with him.

However, as the weeks wore on, you were less and less able to ignore the nagging feeling.

With each passing day that your husband didn't initiate sex, you began worrying more and more that he didn't want you anymore. Your postpartum hormones had you feeling wildly unfounded emotions, and you had to keep reminding yourself that they were unfounded because the evidence of Steve's actions didn't line up with your suspicions.

Steve was nothing but physical with you in the aftermath of the birth of your daughter. Constantly coming up behind you and wrapping you in his arms. Constantly showering your face and neck with kisses when he entered any room. Pulling you down to sit in his lap when you finally put the baby down for a nap or for the night. His hands were on you at all times.

Not to mention the fact that you had woken up multiple times in the middle of the night (needing to pee) to the feeling of his hard cock nestled against your curves, his arms pulling you that much tighter against him when you tried to get up.

All of these mixed messaged led to you feeling extremely confused. So much so that you did the first thing you could think of besides confronting the issue head on (because of course you weren't going to ask Steve directly, that would be too mature).

"Why hasn't he...what?!" Eddie's eyes practically bulge out of his head in response to your question. You narrow your eyes at him in contrast.

Steve has run out to get some Chinese food since "Uncle Eddie" has come over for a movie night. The different members of the gang have been coming over each weekend to help you two out and also give you a much needed dose of friendship normalcy. Eddie is sitting on your couch, your daughter in his arms, as you sit beside him with your arms crossed.

"Why hasn't he fucked me since I gave birth?" you repeat expectantly. Eddie does his best to cover the baby's ears.

"There is literally a child - your child - present, you slut," Eddie accuses in a stage whisper. You laugh out loud at that.

"First of all, she can't understand a single word that's being said. And second of all, you can't call me a slut in front of my child." You move to smack him but Eddie ducks, giving you a cheeky smile.

Eddie might be really close with Steve, but you'd very much stolen him as a best friend in your own right. As it stands, Steve has Robin and you have Eddie, that's pretty much the loyalty line. So you attempt to lean on that loyalty to solve your problem.

"C'mon, Eds," you pout. "I'm really dying here."

Eddie's eyes go wide again and he puts his hand back over your sleeping daughter's exposed ear, pressing her other ear further against his chest.

"You're really missing dick that bad?" he whispers. You shrug.

"Not just dick. Steve's dick." It comes out in a whine that has Eddie chuckling. "I'm just worried he doesn't want -,"

"Well shut right the fuck up," Eddie cuts you off with an emphatic shake of his head. "It definitely isn't that he doesn't want you."

"Aha. So you do know more than you were letting on. Spill, Munson." You lean towards him and Eddie realizes he's gotten himself stuck in something he would rather have avoided. He scratches his head with his free hand.

"It's nothing. Really. It's..."

You stare daggers into him and his shoulders sag.

"He's really scared of hurting you."

You blink at that.

"Hurting me?"

Eddie looks extremely uncomfortable, shifting in his seat and looking down at the baby before looking back up at you.

"He read one of those baby books and it said that husbands can...you know...get amorous too soon and..."

You laugh incredulously, but Eddie looks like he wants to jump out of the second story window of your apartment.

"You're laughing, but he mentioned it to Robin and Robin said that it was 100% true and that he could...I don't know...rip you open or some shit-"

"Eddie!" you cut your friend off before he can make himself any more uncomfortable. "I mean, yes. It's true. But I've been cleared by the doctor. It's been like...months since that would have been something to worry about."

Eddie raises an eyebrow at that. The baby fusses quietly in his arms and he automatically bounces his knee to rock her just slightly, soothing her. Despite the nature of your conversation, the whole image melts your heart.

"Look, princess," Eddie says quietly, pulling out his long-used nickname for you. "Steve loves you pretty much more than any one human can possibly love someone. And you know I hate complimenting that asshole."

You snort in response but he continues.

"I'm sure it's killing him, too, to not be...intimate. Have you talked to him about it?"

"I told him that the doctor said it was okay..." you reply, kind of avoiding the question. Eddie groans, dropping his head against the back of the couch.

"This isn't one of those things where you come to me for help and I find out you haven't even tried doing anything to fix it first, is it?"

"Edward Munson, how could you ask me that?" you ask with faux insult. Eddie rolls his head to the side to look at you.

"I can ask you that because of the time you thought Steve wanted to just be friends with you and instead of talking to him you cried to me."

"That's - "

"And that time you thought he'd been sneaking around behind your back, even though all he was doing was planning his proposal."

"Okaaay, Eddie."

"And the time - ,"

"Alright shut up," you snap, not holding back your laughter. You bite your lip and look back at your friend holding your baby, the product of your love with Steve. You chew on the inside of your cheek. "Fine. Maybe I need to do something myself."

"Ya think?" Eddie asks with a grin that says he's way too pleased with himself.

"But you're going to help me."

Eddie's smile turns into an overdramatic frown.

"Why do I have to do anything? It's your sex life, slut."

"Because you love me," you say simply, batting your eyelashes. Eddie goes to respond but in that exact moment your daughter decides to wake up, stretching and giving the cutest tiny yawn in the entire world, melting the metal head in front of you. He glances up at you begrudgingly and then kisses the baby on her nose. Gazing down at her, he coos.

"Guess I'm gonna help your mommy get laid. Again."

~*~

It's about a week later by the time your plan can finally be put into action.

Steve comes home at the end of a long Friday at Family Video, ready to spend the night with his two girls. He runs in the door of your shared apartment and heads straight to the nursery so quickly he doesn't have enough time to register his surroundings. The dimmed lights, the lit candles, the soft music playing. When he reaches the nursery and finds the crib empty, however, Steve's blinders come off.

"Honey? Honey where are you?" Steve asks, calling out and walking back into the living room, unsettled.

That’s when you step out of your bedroom, leaning against the doorway in a silky robe.

“Right here, Stevie.”

Steve’s jaw drops open at the sight of you, all the air knocked from his lungs. He blinks rapidly. Seemingly unable to process what’s going on.

“Baby…?”

“She’s with Joyce and Hopper for the night,” you reply, though you know the pet name was for you and not a question about your daughter. Steve looks around the room as if taking the state of it in for the first time, but also as if he is slightly aimless without a baby to care for.

“That’s…wow. Is it too soon? It’ll be weird not putting her to bed,” Steve says, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

You know what he means. When Eddie had come to get her earlier this afternoon, you’d felt like your heart was being ripped from your body. But looking at your husband right now - feeling the chasm between you close as his eyes rake down your body - you know it was the right thing to do.

"We needed a night to be grown ups. Don't you think, Steve?" you ask, pushing off from the doorway. Your silk robe slips open, revealing a gauzy babydoll night dress that hits right at your upper thigh. You swear Steve turns a shade of red you've never seen in a matter of seconds. You can hear an audible swallow as you move into Steve's space, tugging at his Family Video vest till it falls off his shoulders and onto the floor. "You want that, too, don't you?"

You don't give him a second to respond. Instead you crawl your fingers up under his shirt, grasping at his sides to pull him to you as you big to kiss the side of his neck. The shuddering inhale is a good indication of the effect you're having on him, followed immediately by the way his arms encircle your body.

This is what you've wanted. What you've needed. What you've craved every night as you laid beside your doting, sweet, silly husband, desperate for a touch he hadn't necessarily deprived you of, but a touch which you needed more more more.

"Honey." He says it like a prayer. Like a question to be answered. You pull back from his skin long enough to look up and find his face a storm of emotion. Love and lust and worry swirl together, but before you can move to comfort or question him, his lips are on yours. Kissing you for all he's worth. For all you're worth. For all the two of you are worth combined.

The kissing never stopped. That wasn't something he'd been holding back from you these past few months. But clearly he'd been holding back in intensity, because there's something all-consuming about the way Steve is kissing you now. It has you gasping for air in the mere seconds of reprieve he gives you before he's back to devouring your mouth, his hands roaming all over the body he'd spent so long treating with kid gloves.

You're the one who begins walking backwards, leading him into the bedroom without pulling away from the kiss. It's easy to forget about the other plans you'd made for the evening. The bottle of wine on the counter, the meal on the table. You'd assumed you might have to wine and dine Steve. Get him a little loose and convince him to ravish you. You hadn't expected him to crumble like this or to become as nonverbal as he has since he walked in the door. Your usually talkative man has dissolved into nothing but pants and grunts as he tries his best to get his lips and hands on every part of you he can.

When the backs of your knees hit the bed and you pull him down on top of you, however, he does finally seem to come to his senses.

"We...oh fuck. We don't have to do anything, honey," Steve mutters, albeit into your lips.

"Wanna do everything, Stevie," you say in response, grabbing his hands and placing them back on your swollen breasts. Steve groans into your jaw this time but is more successful in his attempt to pull away.

"Sweetheart, we should slow down."

"No, we shouldn't," you say, a bit more indignant this time. Realizing that Steve is no longer putting any of his body weight on you, you panic and do the first thing that comes to mind - you yank him down and then twist so that his back is against the mattress so you can clamber on top of him.

"Honey, what are you - ?"

"Steve. I need you to fuck me. And if you’re worried you’re gonna hurt me, just forget about it because I’ve been healed for months at this point and you know it.”

You know your eyes must be shining with unshed tears at this point so you do your best to blink them away, hoping they aren’t visible to Steve in the low light. But of course he notices. It’s Steve.

He immediately sits up so he can be face to face as you straddle him, his large hands coming to cup your face like you’re so delicate you’ll break.

“I just…the books said…you were in so much pain after the birth…”

Steve looks way more lost than you’ve ever seen him, his hair tousled from your hands and his eyes darting everywhere in discomfort before resting back on yours. You wait for him to continue but he doesn’t so you squeeze his biceps.

“Steve. You have to tell me these things that you’re worried about.”

“I know…” he tries to dismiss you, looking away. It makes you grab his chin.

“I thought you didn’t want me anymore,” you finally say plainly. Steve’s eyes stop looking for anywhere else to rest, instead flying to your face and blowing wide. He opens his mouth but you keep going. “I thought you weren’t attracted to me anymore. That you didn’t see me in that way…”

“Honey, stop,” Steve says, speaking forcefully for the first time all night. For the first time in months. “That’s crazy. You know that? You know you’re talking crazy, right? Like certifiably insane.”

“Steve…”

“How could you say that? Are you out of your mind?” His voice raises a bit as he gets more riled up. It makes you bite your lip.

“Don’t…don’t belittle…” you can feel the flood of emotion starting to surge to the surface, the dam much quicker to break these days since you gave birth. Steve grips you tighter, hand on the back of your neck to force you to look at him.

“I’m not belittling your fears. You are belittling my love for you if you think for one second that I’m not attracted to you anymore. That I don’t fall in love with you again every single time I lay eyes on you. That I don’t want you with every dumb molecule in my being. And I know I was shitty in science class but I know thats a lot of fucking molecules. You’re belittling my feelings if you don’t think I want to keep my hands on you every waking minute and that it kills me that that’s not possible. That I don’t get out of bed really early each morning and jerk off in the shower just because I had you in my arms all night.”

A wet chuckle comes out of you unbidden. The corner of Steve’s mouth quirks up but his brow remains furrowed.

“You have to tell me when you’re worried about things, honey,” he says quietly as he rests his forehead against yours.

“Isn’t that literally what I just said to you?” you scoff incredulously. Steve leans back and finally gives you a lopsided smile.

“Well not exactly. I’m sure I changed the words a little bit.”

“Steve Harrington, that is word for word—,”

You’re cut off when Steve closes the gap between you with a kiss. There’s not once ounce of protest left in you. You are starved for his affection. Greedy to consume and be consumed. You kiss him back with everything you have. It is heated and wet and hard and everything that you have been needing. You push and he gives. Allowing you to pressure him down so his back is once again against the bed.

You’re grinding against him now and it’s so good. A triumphant zing runs down your spine at the feeling of how thick and hard he is for you, reciprocating all of your feelings and reinforcing all of his words.

Steve Harrington wants you.

The father of your child and the love of your life.

Your Steve.

When Steve’s lips migrate down over the slope of your jaw to suck at your pulse, you moan loudly. The feeling of suction travels all the way through your body to the space between your legs and before you can do anything to counter it, you’re rocking back and forth against Steve in search of any friction possible.

“Steve. Please,” you practically sob out. He puts his hands on either side of your face but before he can say anything, you continue whimpering. “Please, Steve. Just give me something, anything—,”

“Shh, honey,” Steve says, kissing your heated face. “You don’t have to beg. I’m so sorry to have made you think you ever have to beg. For anything.”

The next series of events plays out in slow motion. Both because it’s the culmination of all of your hopes and wishes for the last few months and because Steve moves incrementally. Gently.

“We’re gonna take this slow, honey,” Steve says quietly as he rolls so that you’re the one on your back, your head propped up on pillows. He grabs one additional pillow and lifts your hips up so that they are elevated by the cushion.

“We don’t—,” you try to interrupt but Steve hushes you again, not unkindly.

“Baby, I’ll bend you over and fuck you so hard the neighbors call 911 again soon,” he chuckles and you cringe at the memory of one of the best nights of sex of your life. Steve takes a shuddering breath, looking down at you spread out for him. “But tonight…we’re gonna do this slow. For both of us.”

Big hands slide the hem of your babydoll nightgown up, revealing your naked pussy which immediately receives attention. Steve presses two fingers to your clit and begins to go in tried and true circular motions.

“I’m just saying. We could go faster…oh.” You’re cut off when one of Steve’s fingers slides all the way into you, causing your eyes to roll back. Steve chuckles and leans forward to kiss your exposed throat.

“Baby, I need to go slow. Don’t you get it?” he mutters into your skin. He moves his finger in and out of you slowly. “You’re acting like you’re the only one who hasn’t been fucked in months.”

The perspective has you preening, but before you can dig into that further, Steve presses the weight of his body on you and you’re a goner.

It’s all weight and skin and sweat and the skim of flesh on flesh and moans and warm breath.

You begin to forget where Steve ends and you begin. You both are one raw nerve ending, spurred on by gasps and rubs and moans. As someone whose patience had seemingly run out, you’re surprised to realize how easy it is to lose track of time with your lover so lost in you, and you in him. You don’t know how long it is that you revel in touch and pressure and heat before you feel him prodding at your entrance. Swollen and hot and and hard and needy and yours.

“Ready, baby?” Steve asks. He sounds far away, but you make sure to muster up eye contact so you can assure him as much as possible.

“Ready, Steve.”

He pushes in slow, and you’re pleased to confirm that you were right. You are ready for him. For this. There’s no discomfort. Just the inevitable sting of his size invading you in every way.

“Oh fuck,” you say quietly. Steve pulls out and then drives back in, more firm this time. You squeeze your eyes shut. “Oh fuck, fuck.”

“Get it all out, baby,” Steve says with a roguish grin. “Say whatever you need to tonight. Don’t want to be all foul mouthed with our daughter around.”

You know he’s joking but you roll your eyes.

“Well Eddie Munson called me a slut in front of our daughter the other day, so—,”

“He WHAT?!” Steve stops immediately, eyes wide. You laugh and grab at his ass, trying to force him to start moving again.

“It’s nothing. Just a joke. Come on, keep going!”

“You saying he called you a slut was a joke or him calling you a slut was the the joke?” Steve asks warily, but he does slowly begin thrusting back into you.

“The second one. I mean the first. I mean both - ah!” you gasp at the feeling of Steve nudging against a delicious spot inside you. Your nails dig deep into his arm. “Oh god.”

“Am I going to have to limit Eddie’s family privileges?” Steve jokes, knowing fully well that Eddie is yours just as much as Robin is his. You’re squinting up at him, brow furrowed. It’s adorable.

“Can you stop talking about Eddie Munson while you’re making me feel like this?” you ask.

“Hey, you’re the one who brought him up.”

You don’t dignify that with a response. Instead you surrender yourself to the pleasure melting through your bloodstream. Steve can see it on your face. It makes his ego swell in that way it always used to. A boyish grin splits his face and his hips pick up the pace.

“Making you feel like this, huh?” He quotes you. “Feels good?”

“Yeah. So good.”

“This what you wanted? Just wanted me to fuck you like old times?”

“If it was - oh god - like old times we’d both be drunk and fooling around in the bathroom at the - fuck - Hideout,” you try to say, though you’re interrupted by your own moans.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve says, leaning down and sucking on your throat again. There will definitely be marks, but you don’t have it in you to care or reprimand him. “I’m drunk on you right now.”

“Steve…,” you whisper. The name cracks in your throat when he snakes his hand down to play with your clit.

“Sounds like you’re drunk, too, baby - oh.”

The tone of his “oh” is different from his earlier teasing and you look down. Two wet spots have formed in the silk nightgown over your breasts.

“Shit. Shit,” you whine.

“Is that…”

“I’m lactating. I’m lactating during sex, Steve.” You have your hands slapped over your eyes to hide you away from the mortification of the moment.

“It’s ok. Hey. Hey! It’s okay.” Steve is chuckling, but his hands do their best to peel yours away from your eyes. Your crumpled face makes his heart hurt so he kisses your cheeks. “Baby, it’s okay. You were feeling good, right?”

“Yeah…but…”

“There’s no but. That’s all that matters,” Steve says definitively before dropping a more insistent kiss on your lips. His tongue delves into your mouth, his fingers winding in your hair. He’s trying to distract you. And it’s working, because soon your hips are rolling, trying to get him to start thrusting back into you again.

Steve finally pulls back, his hand gentle on your jaw.

“Do they hurt?” he asks quietly, glancing down at your breasts and back up.

“They’re a bit achey, yeah,” you admit. He leans down and presses a kiss to the valley between them. Your breath catches at the feeling. Steve hand comes up to cup one gingerly and you bite your lip. “Maybe don’t touch my nipples too much. Sensitive.”

“Of course, baby,” Steve agrees. He sits up higher, propping himself up with a hand by your head so that he’s leaning over you but has the leverage to pick up his thrusts again. Before long the feeling of him bottoming out inside you has you releasing a steady stream of moans. “Seems like you’re sensitive all over, huh?”

“Mmmmyeah,” you confirm, eyes shut tight against the pleasure.

Steve can feel your pussy start to clamp down on him. It’s his favorite feeling in the world - one his own fist could never hope to replicate. The apparent nearness of your orgasm spurs him on more than any aphrodisiac and he begins panting openly, his hips picking up speed.

“You’re close, I know you are, honey.”

You just nod furiously, practically beyond words as you grip his biceps for all you’re worth. Steve lets out a breathless chuckle.

“I know, me too, honey. You gotta cum for me, okay?”

“Steve…” you gasp out, peering up at him through lust hazed eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t…don’t make me go this long again,” you say weakly. “Please.”

Steve’s heart absolutely splinters at the way you say it. He drops himself even lower against you, his thrusts taking on a even harder, more intentional quality.

“I won’t. I promise,” Steve says hoarsely right into your ear, his lips mouthing at the lobe as he does so. “I’ll fuck you right, baby. You’ll see. You’ll never have to ask again.”

You spasm in his arms shortly after Steve makes that promise to you. He’s not far behind, especially not with the way you cry out his name like is both a prayer and and answer to one. He spills into your still quaking walls with a guttural groan that you do your best to swallow, somehow not satiated by the sex alone. You need to consume Steve’s being.

~*~

What comes after shouldn’t be your favorite part, but somehow it is. It’s the part where Steve holds you in his arms, sweaty and still shaking a little. Kisses pepper your temples and his breath fans over your face. After a while, a comedically timed stomach growl reminds you both that neither of you have eaten, so you finally stumble out to the kitchen, naked and draped over one another, to eat a meal.

It’s the part later in the evening where you try to suck Steve’s cock while watching tv, but he won’t let you because he won’t let the mother of his child bruise her knees (he’ll change his tune in a few weeks but it’s cute for now). Instead he drags you back to bed for the night and makes you cum on his tongue before fucking you once more and ensuring you have the heaviest sleep you’ve had in months.

It’s the part the next morning where you wake up with still a few hours to go before Eddie brings your daughter back from Joyce and Hopper’s. Where you wake up to your husband wrapped around you, his morning wood tucked between your thighs. This time you don’t hesitate in initiating yourself. Taking what you both want. Steve’s moans score your morning beautifully, while his cum paints the canvas of your belly and your face wears a self satisfied grin.

Your favorite part is having quiet cups of coffee in the kitchen. Holding hands as you wait for the toast to pop up. Reading the morning paper and handing Steve the comics section without having to be asked. Reaching a hand out to fluff his hair fondly when he reads out the most ridiculous panels.

Your favorite part is when Eddie brings your daughter back and you get to watch the light in Steve’s eyes magnify as he picks her up in his arms. He coos at her and she smiles and you sweat you ascend to heaven.

Eddie lingers in the doorway after Steve hoists the diaper bag and brings his precious cargo into the living room.

“So are you all…satisfied?” Eddie asks uncomfortably. You punch him in the shoulder but you’re unable to hide the massive smile on your face.

“Yes. Yes I am, thank you,” you reply, completely genuine. Eddie grins back at you, squeezing your hand.

“I’m happy for you, slut.”

You’re about to reply when you both freeze, surprised by a loud voice coming from the living room.

“EDWARD MUNSON, IF YOU CALL MY WIFE A SLUT ONE MORE TIME!”

~*~

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I hope you enjoyed! Please comment and reblog to let me know, thanks for reading!

[iskratempestmadness]

How would the Baki men react and do with a short chubby reader?

Baki:

• Oh, the boy is down. He basically has no type, but he is not indifferent to such girls.

• Super helpful. Can't you reach for something? He will help. Even though he is also not tall. He'll bring a chair.

• He adores your body. Seriously. You're his cute little bun. Just let him squeeze you and he'll be happy.

Hanayama:

• treats this very calmly. Well, like he loves you anyway. It doesn't affect your inner world, and he loves you for it. So everything is ok.

• personally, it is difficult for him to find a woman taller than him, so for him you will be small for him anyway. And he doesn't mind it at all.

• Your physique? For him, it also does not matter. But if you suddenly get tired while walking, then he will carry you. If you can't lift anything, he'll do it for you. If you tell him that you are unhappy with your body, then he will not put pressure on you, but if you really want to get in shape, then he will support you.

Katsumi:

• He LOVES you. And your short stature and physique are only a plus.

• He loves to squeeze you. He can do this for days. The cute boy just can't keep his hands to himself. He'll probably admire your body. He would compare it to the Greek statues of goddesses he had seen a couple of times in the museum.

• height? Your height is charming to him, honey. There may also be small jokes about him, but he is really satisfied with him. You're his little Greek goddess.

Jack:

• he loves you any way, ok. Very calm.

• He quite likes your height. You know his height, any woman is small for him. But he really can't help but smile when you look up at him.

• Your physique? Well, he wouldn't force you, but if you want, he'll train you. He would have liked that. He also can't contain his emotion when he sees you training.

Retsu:

• is also very calm about it.

��� But in reality, he likes your small stature. He tries not to focus on it, so as not to offend you. He always tries to help if the thing you need is high up.

• Body type? He also tries not to focus on him, but he will also try to lead you to the idea that you need to do sports. And he will be happy to keep you company!

Shibukawa:

• He is neutral.

• height? You know he's not tall, so you look very harmonious. However, the two of you will often need a chair to get something.

• Body type? He loves you for your inner peace. So this is clearly in second place. But no matter how you resist, he will pinch your sides with a certain frequency. But it can be stopped by asking, it's just that he understands that it may be unpleasant for you.

Yujiro:

• Don't worry, he will accept you for who you are.

• But that doesn't mean he won't tease you about your height. It's funny for him to watch you try to get something and he can't help but say so. But he'll help you anyway.

• Body type? Everything is OK. Another one who likes to cuddle you while you're alone. He won't tease you about it.

[silverflqmes]

heey, i really loved your writing!! could you write a fluff where kageyama has a crush on seijouh's manager and doesn't know how to approach because of certain people (oikawa and kindaichi lol) ?

sorry if something is spelled wrong, I'm using the translator 😞❤️

lovee from Brazil!

໒⦂ 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄.

notes. first song that came to mind^ by taylor swift ( ofc ) but anyway.. hello anon! much love to you in brazil<3 i hope this drabble is too your liking, not very confident in my take on kageyama but we cope.

genre. fluff ( kinda cliché.. )

tobio kageyama x gn!reader.

tobio wasn’t exactly what many would call, in tune with their feelings. in fact, he sucked at expressing what he felt. so much, that any emotions could easily be compared to crashing waves.

feelings surface and take the skies to great heights, only come crashing down and return to the expanse of water.

though it wasn’t completely his fault. many factors prevented him from expressing himself in a normal and understandable way. this time around, it was two students from his old junior high that stood in the way — yuutaro kindaichi, and no surprise here — tooru oikawa.. whom he didn’t have the best relationship with.

and what exactly were they blocking him from? well, his feelings towards you.

once upon a time ago, you had also attended kitagawa daiichi and have been kageyama’s crush for as long as could remember. no one could compare to you no matter how many times he tried to disregard his feelings.

now that you attended aoba johsai, he feared he might never get to tell you of his sentiments towards you.

the one opportunity he had to speak with you was during the practice match early into the school year, and at the singular opportunity he received to approach you, when he didn’t just feel like a face in a crowd.. kageyama became completely tongue tied.

like a fool he choked on his words before spouting a pathetic excuse of a greeting once kindaichi had arrived with kunimi to pull you away from him.

now, he was met with a new opportunity.. one that featured no aoba johsai, no court and zero volleyball — just the two of you, and the beach.

the raven haired setter had come with his sister for the day, saying to him that he had needed sun and a break from his cherished sport. the odds of you showing up were zero, and yet, here he was.. proven wrong once more.

miwa, upon seeing you playing blissfully in the water with a friend you had brought down to the beach with you, had of course nagged her younger brother, urging that it was fate. how often was it that you showed up to the beach at the same time as your crush without that knowledge, anyway?

still, the first year had refused to approach you. how could he when you were having so much fun? you’d freeze up completely if you had to hear another failed attempt at a confession.

despite being so close to him, you felt so far away for him. out of his league, out of reach.. and it terrified him to take those few steps in approaching you. who was to say you wanted him anyway if he spoke up? for all he knew someone else was in the picture.

there was just too much at risk, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to hear your rejection.

“tobio.. you’re gonna lose her completely with the rate you’re going at.” his older sister sighed out, draining her bottle of coke. “nobody’s here to stop or make you feel judged in any way. and i can tell you right now,” she paused, pushing her sunglasses up a bit. “you’re not getting a better opportunity than this one.”

his lips pursed together as he stole another glance at you before looking at the emptied glass bottle in his hand. “it’s pointless trying, onee-san. she came here to enjoy herself and relax — not witness an embarrassment of a confession, if i even get one out.” the words would be completely jumbled, so much that it was sure to sound illiterate. like a baby trying to get their first word out.

he wondered if he could just get his feelings across without standing there to tell you. if he could do it that way, surely the confession would get across, and it won’t have cost him his dignity.

the elder eyed the younger for a moment before letting out a hum. “if this was volleyball, surely you’d have found a way around this by now.” she spoke up before laying back in her beach chair. “facing defeat has made you too comfortable, tobio.”

his lips parted to throw back a retort before, wanting to defend what little pride he had left, but his thoughts failed him when they couldn’t form into a sentence. miwa was right, painful as it was to admit. he gave up way too easily, all because of vulnerability.

his gaze lingered on the glass in his hand for a little while longer, the sea beyond twinkling in the distant horizon.

and just like that, an idea struck him. “nee-san, do you have a paper and pen i can borrow?”

“i’m telling you hana-chan, every conversation we’ve had just ends up in word vomit when he addresses me — considering yuutaro-kun and oikawa-senpai always intervene..” you sighed out to your friend from johzenji, pursing your lips together. “i feel bad each time we talk because of it.”

the brunette lowered her sunglasses to her face, letting out a hum. “volleyball boys do tend to hold onto their grudges, otherwise they’d be more like my team.. and they’re certainly a draining bunch.” it was like hosting a kid’s birthday party everyday when it came down to managing. “maybe you should try contacting him outside of volleyball?” she suggested, sipping on her smoothie.

your lips pursed together. “i probably should, he was a really good guy back in junior high.. despite what everyone says about his behavior with volleyball.” an awkward laugh seemed to have left your lips at the memories. “but i miss having him in my life, i just don’t know if he feels the same way..”

“what’s that?” the manager spoke up, sitting upright.

raising a brow, you turned to look at your friend. “i said i don’t know if he feels the same way..”

“no no.” misaki shook her head, pointing to the shore. “that, over there.” she corrected, lifting her shades.

you blinked at her finger, following its direction before narrowing your eyes to see what she had been referring to. the sun wasn’t quite helping your vision, in fact- whatever it was, the sun reflected it in a way that made you get up to go look for yourself.

if someone threw trash into the sea with garbage bins scattered all around the beach to maintain the cleanliness, you were seriously going to throw hands.

as you approached the shallow water, you kneeled to pick up the discarded bottle, wondering who on earth couldn’t just get off their ass and throw away a coke bottle.

but as you got a better look, you found a paper inside. at first glance it might have been a wrapper for a straw, however it wasn’t crumbled up like trash. rather — it was rolled up.

part of you thought you might have found the krabby patty secret formula somehow by its appearance. glass bottle and a note? a child would have surely thought similarly and opened it to see.

and like a kid.. curiosity got the better of you.

twisting off the cap, you flipped the bottle over to shake the letter out, eager to see what you might find. maybe even treasure — although that was farfetched.. even for you.

unraveling the message, however, you found none of the things you anticipated. in fact, you were met with very the last scenario that could have possibly crossed your mind.

dear y/n,

um.. i’m no good with words, but uh, you probably noticed that the last few times we saw each other. and i have no hope that whatever i say will be any better here.. especially with limited space, but i’m hoping that i can put my feelings into words a little easier without my pride getting in the way, awkward meetings, or our old schoolmates.

i like you, a lot.. and i have for a really long time now — since kitagawa daiichi. but i’ve just, had a hard time bringing those feelings across to you, so i never got the chance, especially when we go to different schools.

just feels like the universe doesn’t want me with you every time i try to speak up, so i decided to write them instead, hoping they get to you in this message.

if you don’t feel the same, i understand- i just hope we can remain friends, and that i haven’t made things even more awkward than they already were between us.

yours sincerely,

tobio kageyama.

shock painted your features as you read the name nine more times, scanned the contents of the letter before looking behind you.

tobio was somewhere on the beach and you hadn’t even seen him. he could have made an approach as well, but his fears, you guessed, of rejection.. told him not to.

finally, as your eyes were ready to give up the search, a sliver of blueberry caught your gaze. bingo.

“y/n?? where are you-”

“one minute, i think i saw someone i know!” you quickly intercepted hana, rising from your crouched position to run a few umbrellas down.

there was one with a duo underneath that resembled one another, and if your memory served you correctly — that was tobio and his older sister. miwa, if your memory hadn’t failed you.

the setter seemed to be his own world for a moment, filing his nails as part of his routine. even outside of the court, he still had to maintain his habits.

“tobio, i’m off to get us more drinks.” the female spoke up after looking up, smiling to herself. “be right back~”

kageyama let out a noise of agreement, only lifting his head a smidge to nod before pausing when he noticed a figure across from him — your figure.

either you just noticed him, or you had actually received the haphazard message in the bottle he had sent. and by the looks of it, it had been the latter.

“y/n..” he breathed out, lowering the filer in his hand as he watched you approach him.

the butterflies from every occasion he had encountered you this past year seemed to have returned to his stomach. was this what hinata felt before every match..?

“tobio-kun, it’s been awhile.” you smiled a little, letting out a sheepish laugh. “surprised to find you here, it almost feels like fate.. except no distractions this time for us to finally put everything out on the table.”

his heart seemed to accelerate with pace, the nerves increasing almost tenfold. rejection, he could just sense it coming. “um, well.. i already said how i feel, considering you got the letter.” he spoke up, eyeing the emptied beverage in your hands.

at his reasoning, you lifted the bottle before humming. “true, but i didn’t actually hear it from you. for all i know it could have been something of your sister’s doing.”

tobio, blushing profusely, nearly found himself barking back a response — a frequent habit of his. but as he eyed your expecting gaze, he faltered, lowering his head in defeat.

“how will i know if by saying it, i won’t just end up being made into a fool..?” he mumbled, pursing his lips together.

as you took a step closer, you gave him a knowing stare. “let me do you a better one, how are you so sure i’ll make you into a fool? you’re aware of your feelings.” you paused before pointing to yourself. “but you’re not aware of mine, it seems.”

his lips parted to retort before he froze up. “wait- your feelings? you..”

a smile returned to your lips as you sat beside him. “i like you, tobio-kun. are the feelings i read true?” you asked him, tilting your head curiously.

the color on his cheeks seemed to darken as he avoided your intent gaze for a moment before nodding. “they’re as i wrote them.. i really do like you, y/n — and i meant every word i said.. i was just scared you might’ve felt.. differently.”

“well,” you grabbed his hand, grinning brightly. “rest assured the feelings are mutual at long last!”

notes. sorry this is rushed and written in like 7382393939 different sittings.. hoping i was able to fulfill your request somewhat?? idk how in character he is.. but anyway, ty for the request anon and sorry for the very long wait ahaha.. please enjoy!

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[undyinglantern]

see it would be one thing if hq had just one short character, but even just in karasuno nishinoya is also (even if not as much as hinata, still pretty) short. and kenma also more somewhere in the middle between not quite short but not as tall as the majority of the other characters/players we see. i dont know who that white haired guy with the eyeliner is (never got that far) but hes another pointedly short guy and then theres also the original little giant, as well as the old man/coach. and they all have similar but still distinctly differing experiences

and when I inevitably get back into haikyuu what then

[dilfartist]

Missed - short (pt.2)

Pairing; Yandere Las Plagas Leon Kennedy x reader

Synopsis; it’s the week after Leon’s attack and the scientists examining and aiding Leon, need your assistance.

Reader description; Female/GN

Word count; 1k

TW; Dead dove do not eat, non-con, there isn’t really a smut scene, depends on how you interpret it, nonconsensual touching, messed up shit, ooc Leon. NSFW. Also tagged everyone who wanted to be tagged but its acting weird so few may not be notified.

!Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!

Nothing seems real to you anymore.

Your boyfriend working for the government was more than enough news to handle, but Leon obtaining some parasite, becoming one himself understandably tended to hurt your head.

After last week's events, you come by daily. While they did request this of you, you would have done it anyways.

Every day you wake then drive straight to the facility holding him; never missing a day. And with each passing day, he grows worse. His body changed, sprouting more veins than the last time you saw him. He looks lifeless. His baby blue eyes are now a piercing ruby color, that stare into your soul.

Leon as a person has altered. He’s more touchy, touching you anytime he can. Leon doesn’t care for your opinion, or consent on the matter. Not anymore. Aggression is a main part of his personality now. While Leon was rarely aggressive with you, it still terrified you to see him throw a tantrum and nearly rip out a security guard’s throat because you wanted to leave early.

His presence alone has grown suffocating. And You’re starting to get uncomfortable just being around him.

And the experimenters monitoring Leon aren't helping. They only ever approve of you around to gather intel. Sometimes they’ll guilt you into staying in his enclosure, observing his actions on the other side of a double mirror. Other times they’d full-on pay you to spend five or more hours with Leon. Of course, you’d have no issues if Leon acted like his old self. But that was the issue. He wasn't himself anymore.

It’s currently two o’clock and you’re attending Leon’s daily visits.

“We have one more experiment we’d like to run on Leon, but we need your help to explore what we’d like to explore.”

You nod, observing Leon from the other side of the double mirror. Leon sits crisscrossed next to a large television watching MTV mindlessly, gnawing on a slice of pizza. Leon sports grey sweatpants and a slight sauce messy white tee.

You turn your head finally providing your attention to the scientist beside you, “What is it?” you questioned.

She fixed her glasses to look down at her clipboard, “Well, Leon has been very emotional lately. We’d appreciate it if you’d go inside and just talk with him.”

You lift an eyebrow looking at her septically, “Is that all?”

She nods. “Yes, that is all. You know he only communicates with you.”

“Alright then.”

You enter Leon’s isolation when the door slides open. Leon’s room contained paper-white walls, an extensive mirror, both a couch and bed on opposite sides of each other, a television, and a bathroom area. It felt like a zoo enclosure.

Leon took a minute to glance your way. He was too captivated by the flashing images on the television. Wanting to get the interaction over with, you called out for him. “Leon.”

Leon’s eyes darted in your direction. “(Name)!” he jumped up, jogging over to you. He hugged you tightly, running kisses up and down your neck. You're frozen in an awkward position, “Hey, missed you too, Lee.”

Leon ceases his kissing, pulling away from your neck to look you in the eyes. “Been wondering when’s the next time you’d visit.”

You chuckle, “I visit every day, Leon.”

“It feels like an eternity when you're not around.”

Leon and you lay on the couch, Leon resting his head on top of your chest. You held him close, staring at the ceiling. For abeat there was a pregnant silence, the both of you focusing on each other’s company. Then Leon spoke. Leon asked about your life: how was work? Was anything new happing? Any recent drama. He yearned for a bit of normalcy. Wanted to forget about Spain. Just wanted his main reflections on you.

Since Leon’s trip nothing was the same, not for him. Not for you. While, yes, his normal life ended after the raccoon city incident, he managed to somehow have a- what would you call it? Semi-normal life. Living with you at least.

But now it was gone. The las plazas had terminated any chance of normality for Leon. And if by chance the government’s scientists somehow cured Leon of his parasite, he’d still be left with the side effects of retaining the Las plagas for as long as he did.

Leon’s body had changed in such drastic ways. And his main concern was the upsurge in his libido.

Hours and hours he’d fist his cock, mulling on the times you’ve sucked his cock. No matter how hard, how fast, or even the time spent he couldn't stop. It hurt too much if he did. The other day the pain didn't go away until he fainted from exhaustion. He needed you. He needed to stuff you so bad it physically pained him.

His mind was barraged with thoughts of breeding your sweet pussy. Leon wasn’t the idea of having kids with you, honestly, it thought about a lot. However, this was different. It was an obsession now. Thoughts on breeding you made him cum so quickly, it became his number one fantasy.

Laying here listening to your rambling on the next-door neighbor's fight last night, his nose picks up an ambrosial smell originating from you. You smell sweet. Oh so, so, so sweet.

Leon’s ears ring, deafening him. His eyes focus on your clothed thighs. How he missed the plush skin he used to lay on after a hard week of work. More than that, he missed planting kisses on them; earing drawled out moans of his name.

Almost like an instinct, Leon’s rough, calloused, hands griped your hips. You halt and looked down at him with curiousness. Uncertain of his next actions, you press your hands against him. Worriedly you utter his name, “Leon?”

Leon refuses to acknowledge the call of his name. His main priority being his cock beginning to stiffen in his sweats.

You swallow nervously, endeavoring to pry his hands off. “Leon, please take your hands off me.” you plead in a stern manner, to come off more as a command.

Leon shakes his head. “No,” he responded, voice trembling. “You have no idea how much I need you, (Name). It's torture not having you stroke me.” he nearly moans at the last part. He climbs up the couch to be face to face.

Leon’s eyes held an immense dose of desire as he looks at you through his eyelashes. “Please touch me, baby,” he whines. “Want ‘ya so bad!” he grips your hand, placing it near your mouth to plant a kiss.

You glance at the mirror, silently pleading for assistance. Comprehending Leon’s increase in strength, kicking him off wouldn't be an option since his grip on you tautened. “Leon, stop!”

Quickly you thought of a method of escape. You acted, moving to the side for your body to decline to the ground. Both you and Leon fell to the ground, dragging cushions with you. Immediately you are on your feet, dashing to the door. You slam your fist against the metal, bruising them in the process. You could care less. Your shouting so loud your throat starts to sting. Yet there’s no reply.

You know there are people out there! You saw at least five before entering.

Then a thought comes to mind. Did they plan this?

Leon yanks you out of your shock, slamming his body against yours. Your nose whacks against the metal, prompting a whine of pain. Akin to a vampire, Leon laches on your neck, trailing kisses up and down. He sucks, bites, and drags his tongue over the marks as his hand travels down the slit in your pants.

“Sorry, baby, can’t deny myself any longer!” he apologizes, surprisingly genuinely. You accept your fate, sobbing silently to yourself.

On the opposite side of the mirror, a group of scientists observe the interaction. They all have their clipboards out, noting down every action, movent, and emotion. A Handful of them watches in revulsion while the scene unfolds in front of them. Others treat it as any other experiment, having no sympathy for you. After all, they have no idea if you’re the worst person in existence or not.

There's one thing for certain. They’d be investigating the pregnancy of a human mother and a parasite having father.

Tagged

@fbiopenups , @athanasia-day , @leonskndy , @ineedrealfriends , @destinys-dreamer, @carlosluv3r, @connorsoddsock, @sl33paholics , @explosiongamora , @idiotuvu-blog , @tarcroach, @mikeywaysghost, @jinna-aka-ninja , @lovelysserafim, @jujupia , @lomaeuwu, @briefwinnerpersonaturtle , @sammy213ui , @stella-fleurets, @elliellielliesgirl

[euphorajeon]

taste your whiskey kiss | jjk

— pairing: boxer!jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff (?) | college!au, boxer!jk

— word count: 1.2k

— warnings: long-haired, glasses-wearing jk, annoying jk, oc still wont admit that jk is hot, jk is supposed to be a cs student, making out, mention of oral sex (f. receiving), this is plotless honestly i just miss boxer!gguk T_T

— summary: long-haired jeongguk is a menace. long-haired, glasses-wearing jeongguk is even worse.

— author's note: boxer!gguk is back at last! sorry for the (again) weird summary though. i wrote this in one sitting after that YTC in Busan episode came out and jeongguk blessed us with him wearing glasses :))) anyways. hope you enjoy!

— tags: @dunixxd

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

“Glasses?”

You look up to accept the peck your boyfriend gives you as a greeting while he hums a confirmation, the object perched on his nose knocking against your nose lightly. It’s sled down his nose so much that he looks like a grandpa from your point of view.

“Since when do you wear glasses??”

“Since my mom decided that putting my eyes five centimeters from my computer screen is not good for my sight.” Jeongguk’s hand moves to his nose to adjust his glasses. “She said my codes would never work if I keep mistaking commas for periods.”

You let out a sigh as he takes a seat on his desk chair, his computer displaying lines upon lines of codes you’d never be able to understand.

“You could zoom in, you know, instead of doing a staring contest with the screen,” you say matter-of-factly, sitting cross-legged on his bed. Jeongguk spins his chair around just to give you a one-eyebrow-raise.

“And where’s the fun in that?”

The playful smirk he sports afterwards makes you roll your eyes, not getting why your boyfriend enjoys flirting with danger like that.

“Besides, I can’t see the whole code if I zoom in. Hard to see where it went wrong.”

“Yeah, keep making excuses until you go blind,” you frown as you look at his eyes behind the round lenses. “I won’t help you if you run yourself into a pole.”

Jeongguk shakes his head in mock disappointment. “That’s harsh, babe.”

“That’s your reality if you keep damaging your eyes.”

“Why are you suddenly so hostile? It’s just a pair of glasses.” Jeongguk runs a hand through his long hair, visibly getting frustrated with your elevated emotions.

“I don’t know!” Oh, you do know. “Just— get back to your codes. We can talk about this later.”

“I have something else to do later,” your boyfriend bites back with just as much fervor. “But sure, I can spare some time to talk to you about my glasses.”

He turns back around in his chair and you’re left to stare at the black wavy hair that curls around his nape as he types away on the keyboard.

Despite your denial earlier, you know exactly what got you so worked up like this.

It’s the same thing you felt when Jeongguk first showed up on your doorstep with piercings and a tattoo sleeve, the same thing you felt when he provoked you in the gym, the same thing you felt when he dyed his hair to your favorite color.

You hide behind worrying for his wellbeing when all you want to do is scream how hot he is to his face.

It’s truly unfair how your boyfriend manages to look so hot even in something as simple as a pair of glasses. A pair of prescription glasses at that, too. That combined with the long hair that frames his handsome face perfectly might just be the death of you. It takes everything in you not to pull him away from his coding assignment to tug at his hair as you explore his mouth with your tongue.

Your mind is reeling thinking that all of this is just because one single pair of prescription glasses. And the hair too, you guess, but it’s not like you haven’t experienced what long-haired Jeongguk is like in bed. (He made sure you know that he was a menace a few weeks ago when his hair only reached a bit below his ears.)

By now, you should be immune to whatever shit he’s going to pull, yet here you are.

Half an hour pass before Jeongguk stops typing and lets out a sigh, turning his chair around to face you once again.

“I can’t focus when I know you’re upset with me.” His tone is curt, like you being upset is wasting his time. “So talk.”

“You’re the one who asked me to come, then you blame me when you can’t focus?” you scoff.

“Didn’t think you’d get upset over my fucking glasses.”

“You’re only wearing glasses because you’re too stupid to think that exposing your eyes to such short distance to your monitor is not gonna damage them! You’re the reason why I’m upset!”

“Oh really? Isn’t it because I look too hot in these glasses but you have too much pride to say it to my face?”

You force yourself to sound firm in your one-worded response. “No.”

“No? As in you don’t wanna make out with me right now and fog up my glasses?”

“N-no.”

You’re wavering. It’s over.

“Okay.” Jeongguk shrugs. “I want to make out with you.” The stare he gives you is piercing. “So climb onto my lap and let me take those feisty bites I know you’re dying to give.”

It doesn’t take a second for you to leap off the bed onto his lap, crashing your lips to his in a mess of teeth and tongue. Feels like dejavu when you tug at his lip ring hard enough to make him let out a whimper of pain.

“Why are you so annoying?” you manage to say in between kisses. “If you wanted to make out you could’ve just said so from the fucking start.”

Jeongguk hums, hands on your waist to pull you even closer to him. “You’re more fun when riled up.”

You grab a fistful of his hair and yank hard upon hearing his reason. “Say that again and I’ll withdraw any form of physical intimacy for a month.”

“See?” He grins. “Feisty.”

“Fuck, just kiss me.”

He does, biting your lips and licking into your mouth and sucking on your tongue you can’t help but moan. It just fuels him even further to tighten his grip on your body and steal all the breath away from your lungs.

“Should I— fuck— put on the tongue piercing?” he asks when you roll your hips against his, creating a delicious friction between your bodies.

“No,” you pant. “That thing is— wait.” You pull away a fraction when you remember his words from earlier. “Didn’t you say you have to do something else?”

“Make out with you.”

His lips chase yours but you evade them, confused. “Huh?”

“My to-do-list. For today. Make out with you. Nothing else.”

You let him capture your bottom lip between his lips to suck and chew on like a kid would to a jelly while you contemplate the meaning behind his answer.

Once you understand, you deliver a harsh bite to his bottom lip, making him hiss (in pleasure or pain, you don’t care.)

“Yeah, babe, hurt me with your mouth,” he moans, but it doesn’t last long as he pulls away with another hiss.

“Ah, gotta take these off though, it’s digging into my nose.”

He slips the glasses off his nose, a faint red mark from where it pressed too hard on his skin. You move to place a soft kiss against the flesh, a stark contrast to how you’ve been kissing each other seconds ago.

“That’s what you get for being annoying.”

“Your kiss? Yes please.”

“Shut up.”

He dives back in for your lips, but barely a second pass when he pulls away again, making you groan impatiently. “For someone who wants to make out with me, you sure are pulling away a lot.”

“Just thinking,” he says. “How about I put on the tongue piercing and eat you out until you beg me to stop? Last time you only lasted three, let’s make it five this time, hm?”

You give him six.

a/n: i haven't written in 4 months so i apologize that this is bad hehe. thanks for reading! any feedbacks here will be appreciated :D

[rfswitchart]

Obligatory Huntlow post for ASIAS anniversary

So, I might as well do an anniversary post for Any Sport in a Storm, shouldn't I?

Pop quiz: When did Willow Park fall in love with the Golden Guard? There's a lot of answers you COULD say for this. Maybe she started realizing it when they were in the Human Realm. Maybe she realized when he grabbed her out of the sky or was in the detention pit with him.....

You COULD say that.... but you'd be wrong. She realized it the moment Hunter stood between the Entrails and Darius. "Wait, how do you know that?" you might ask. Simple. Because as a writer of 25 years and someone who has had many crushes and relationships... I know that kind of body language and tone of voice well.

"After all, it will be 52 weeks until 'Caleb's' next day off..." Note the way she SAID that. Sly, coy, definite tongue in cheek. The way she's looking over her shoulder back towards him. I mean COME ON, there's a heart shaped cloud just above her head. Hearts being between the two of them is a big tell for that. It's called THEMING. "Ok, but that's just one moment..." Au contraire, did you think I'd come into this with one example? Remember, I WROTE THIS ALREADY. Now, pop quiz #2: Why did Hunter, who had only ever met Willow ONCE know the difference between the real and fake one?

After all, there is no way he could have known that after just one encounter. You can not determine a person's entire personality based on a sole encounter, no matter how much of an impression it left on you. The answer, again, is simple...

Because they had been talking over Penstagram since ASIAS. Probably took a while due to Hunter not being used to typing and stuff, but I cannot imagine they weren't talking since that night. It also explains why Willow trusted him so easily during the scout invasion of Hexside. Because it couldn't JUST be the breathing technique that swayed her. After all, Hunter had lied and betrayed her and her friends before.

...Again with the hearts. THEMING! Anyway, even if we discredit ASIAS and Labyrinth Runners, or how she totally went to kill Kikimora for trying to hurt 'him' (and stopped when she could have hurt him) and ran after 'him' specifically when 'he' was captured (remember, it was Luz, she just THOUGHT it was Hunter) Fine, let's forget all that then...

Because even if you discount those things, she definitely had a thing for him while they were trapped in the human realm. How do I know? Ok, time to teach you kids about flirting 101.

"I'm gonna borrow that book when you're done with it! ;)" She's not saying "I want to read that" because she's curious about Cosmic Frontier. She is saying "I want to know more about your interests," and saying it with a tone that says "I want to turn this into a date if I can." Even before when she's taking a picture and shutting down Amity's snarking on Hunter's costume, her body language, her words, her tone. They are all suggesting there's more than just 'friendship' there. When it comes to flirting, it is not WHAT you say, it is HOW you say it.

Also, while I'm on the subject. Willow is canonically Pansexual, she is not Ace. Also, she is not Demi/aromantic, she is heavily guarded and has trust issues from years of bullying and nearly everyone looking down on her or using her as emotional support. I have the same problem for the same reasons, and I know for a fact I am not aro. I am guarded because I've been hurt before, same as Willow. Hunter is the only one who ISN'T like that.

He doesn't see her as weak and frail, he doesn't rely on her for stuff, and he wouldn't be caught dead hurting her or looking down on her. That is HIS captain, and he'll be damned if he won't see her as anything short of incredible. And boy did he let her know that, more than once.

Anyways, sorry for rambling. Let's all appreciate these two amazing, powerful witches who really do compliment each other's lives.

[twigg96]

Merle X Reader HC/Fic

Sooo... I might have a thing for the Dixon boys lol.... Here are some HCs for Merle. Next in this series will be either Negan or Rick <3

Merle didn't do relationships... he normally did flings. Hot, steamy, one night stands that meant nothing to either partner. That took no emotional effort at all on his part.

Merle didn't normally do emotions. Emotions were messy. Emotions got him hurt. His emotional bandwidth was taken up by family. Or what was left of it anyway...

But then he met you... when his normal coping mechanisms of harsh comedy and pulling away didn't work on you and you only drew closer to the crass man only wishing to know him further... Merle started to become intrigued with you and these new feelings bubbling up in him. Although he wouldn't dare label the emotions as anything more than curiosity. You would say you and Merle had become thick as thieves.

He brought you home to meet his brother. Something he often did with some of his long term flings but something was special about you. Something different. He hadn't fucked you... as a matter of fact he didn't really want to or feel a need to... he just wanted to keep you close. Watch you hang out with Daryl in their little trailer and watch a shitty movie with an arm around your shoulder... if you let him. It was a weird feeling that pissed him off slightly. He knew your body was fucking smoking hot. He knew he should be simply banging you silly in his room, listening to this movie in the background, before moving on with his life. Not dwelling on whatever the fuck this new feeling was. But as you laughed at the movie, handing the popcorn to Daryl and leaning into his own side more, sharing a joke Merle knew would soon become an inside joke between the two of you, treating the younger Dixon as an equal instead of a pest or a nuisance who didn't belong in his own home like so many of his partners had before... it peaked his interest to peer deeper into those unknown emotions he was experiencing.

Taking you out to go hunting was just one way Merle showed his... interest in you. It was his way of showing off his skills in the sport as well as teaching you vital skills he learned in his life. Skills he hoped you'd never have to use. Skills he could never know would end up saving not only your life but the lives of many in the future. Merle saved for weeks at his shitty dead end job (dealing wasn't always what it was cracked up to be) to pay for all three of your hunting licenses (just cause he lived life in the fast lane didn't mean he always felt the need to skirt the law... didn't help he used a fake ID to get the damned things though) and everything you'd need to go in the coming weeks. If there was anything he could pride himself in it was semi-legally bringing food to the table.

Inviting you over the night before he let you take his own bed and to the amazement of Daryl he took the couch. Merle had claimed it was so that when he got up to get ready he wouldn't wake you, but in the morning when he woke up at the ungodly hour before the sun rose to find you already awake, completely dressed and brewing coffee, Merle was damned tempted to call off the hunt to spend the day at home hunting you. But Daryl coming out of the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and a tired far away look in his eye reminded him he had a duty to get meat for harsh winter ahead.

However Merle never had the patience to hunt normally... So he brought along entertainment and some accelerators that made the hunt go by faster and in his favor. Leading you through the woods the two of you walked silently saying a quick good luck to Daryl as he took off on his own. Merle knew his brother always did do better on his own and would probably out hunt you both, his proclivity to hunt from the break of dawn until the sunset baffled Merle. Settling you down in a small grove of oak trees Merle wrapped an arm around your waist pointing in the direction the deer would appear if he scouted right. The sun slowly rose into the sky turning it a deep red before it ascended into the sky. The cool fall morning never warmed above chilling and the eldest Dixon knew the deer were bedding down to keep warm. Pulling you to your feet Merle walked with you. He had bought cherry bombs from one of the dealers he associated himself with for a case such as this. Using a slingshot and a lit cigarette he shot them into the thick brush when he got bored. Laughing as they exploded spraying twigs and dirt into the air. He'd deal with the aftermath of Daryl's anger later when they got home... but for now he let the beaming smile on your face drive him. Handing the slingshot to you, he pointed to a different spot in the brush, lighting the bomb with the end of his cigarette. Thunk... BOOM. You both laughed as more dirt flew and several deer jumped from the brush. They each darted in several directions and before Merle could pull his gun up to take a good shot; a gun beside him went off. It was the first deer you ever bagged.

As time went on Merle started bringing you with him nearly everywhere. To the grocery store. To the gas station. But mostly to the bar. You didn't seem to drink that much. If you did drink it was only a few before you limited yourself. Merle never had that kind of restraint. He over indulged. He always did. He was loud, crass, and could be mean as a rattle snake when he drank. More so than normal. It seemed to only be exasperated when he was under the influence. But you never seemed to notice or care. Still connected to his hip all through the night. Laughing at his shitty jokes. Correcting his over crass behavior when he got too rowdy. Keeping him from getting himself killed by sneakily limiting his drinks through the night. Or simply diluting them with water or seltzer.

You truly were his angel.

When some guy with a death wish decided he wanted to try and force his way between you two. “Damn, girl. You got a nice ass.” The jackass growled shoving himself between you and the eldest Dixon. If you hadn’t given Merle a talk before you both left the house he might have killed the guy already. But you promised him you’d do your best to handle it and would flag him if you needed. So with all the strength Merle had in his his drunken body. He walked over to join his brother glaring holes into the back of the asshole’s skull who swayed drunkenly trying to whoo you off your feet. “Surprised you haven’t laid ‘im out yet.” Daryl drawled following Merle’s gaze, glaring daggers at the jackass. “Seen ya lay guys out fer less before.” He hummed taking a sip of the beer he’d been nursing through most of the night. Watching as you shook you head politely at the man’s advances, turning to the bar and drinking down your liquor uncomfortably Merle simply hummed. “Said I’d stay back this time. But if he lays a hand on her it’s fair game, little brother.” Merle growled shooting Daryl a look that spoke volumes. Merle watched as you moved your body further away from the man as he stepped a little closer keeping your arms tucked tight around your middle to keep from accidentally bumping into him. Merle watched as you shook your head again standing slowly and shaking your hand. But that’s when the asshole turned into enemy number one. The dick bag had the fucking gull. The sheer audacity to grab you by the wrist, shoving you into the bar, caging you there with his body. He stood over you stumbling only slightly as you shoved against him with all your strength. Merle didn’t have to say a word when Daryl sat his beer down, knowing exactly what was coming next following him willing across the country bar. Merle grabbed the bastard by the ear, dragging him out into the alley between the bar and the abandoned building beside it. Together he and Daryl made the fucker regret the day he was born.

The day the world fell into chaos Merle hadn't believed it at first. What a sick joke. Human beings returning from the dead. Human beings eating each other. The world falling apart. You had come over early in the morning before work. Cuddling up to Merle he somehow convinced you to stay home, call off. Even if he didn't believe the shit himself. He just had a... feeling. Now he was glad he had it. Daryl had been up on the mountain hunting. Watching as camera men risked life and limb to get closer to the action you both speculated it was only in the cities... and it was... at first. Then you heard the gunshots next door. And Merle's military training went into overdrive. Grabbing dusty duffle bag after dusty duffle bag of supplies he had stashed around the house Merle tied them tight to his bike.

It took three days for you and Merle to find Daryl out in the woods. Luckily for you both the geeks had just as much of a hard time. There were no biters out in the middle of no where. And if Merle had thought that an emergency would have lasted more than a week for three people, he would have packed more water. But he didn't and with the biters carrying some sort of disease. Merle didn't want to risk catching it in the water.

The three of you raided houses and small groups for a time. Daryl hated it. That much was evident. You hated it more. You had grown silent. distant. Though Merle couldn't tell if it was because of hunger or regret that had you pulling away. But he tried not to think about it. He just tried to focus on the survival of all of you.

When you all made it to the Quarry, Merle had origianlly wanted to raid it like the others and dip. But the kids... You and Daryl wouldn't let him. And so there he sat, a week later. Wittling a damned fishing rod for some broad he didn't know so she and her sister could go try and fish... Useless. Meanwhile you were being hounded by the big headed prick Shane. Every time he turned around he was nosing around you. If it were any time before three weeks ago he would have laid Shane out flat and thought nothing about it... But now... he had to act right... or Shane would kick them out... not that he would give a shit... but You were right. Even if he hated it. There was a safety in numbers.

Unfortunately... Merle could never keep his anger in check nor his mouth shut for long. The combination always seemed to get him in trouble. With the law - he was arrested more times than he could count and with more prison time than he probably deserved but let go because a fantastic lawyer. With ex-partners- he always said shit he would regret- it cost him a relationship with one of his maybe kids... he really should have looked into that before the end of the world... But now he was handcuffed to a roof. no hope to see you again ever again. All because his big mouth and bigger ego.

Finding the graves at the Quarry was the hardest thing he ever had to go through beyond war. Digging them up with one hand in the wet muddy ground coming down off of all his drugs to be certain none of them held you or Daryl... was his coming to religion moment.

The entire time he worked for the Governor Merle searched for you and Daryl. If Daryl had you he knew you were safe. Not that he doubted you. Merle trusted that you were out there somewhere now throwing cherry bombs into the woods to scare the deer into coming out for Daryl.

Walking in the woods one night on patrol Merle counted the stars. The moon. He never really looked at them before. You had tried once to show him the constellations. Where they all where at different times. Stars were your thing. Not his. He pretended to be interested. But you could tell he wasn't interested. He wished he could give you the time now.

Months into his service to Woodbury he was out doing the Governor's bidding. There had been a disturbance at the line apparently. He was deployed to deal with it. He hated his job but... it made the time pass. Better than in a jail cell he supposed... Searching under cars and in broken grocery store windows he disposed of a few walkers before watching a shadow scurry across the dusty glass of a hardware store window. "If yer looking to get a weapon yer out a luck... but if ya need a tool-" He froze. You stood in the glass staring back at him fear washed over your face before you ran to hide behind some shelves. Had you not seen him? Not recognized his voice?! Or maybe he was hallucinating again... it seemed to be a theme recently. He was seeing your face everywhere. Even in the paintings that Phillip had hanging in the halls. Walking into the store Merle growled rounding the aisles looking for you. This was ridiculous why- Oh... it was just a teen... Letting her slip past him he sighed pretending not to see them at all just willing to tell the teams that they were seeing shit again.

The trek to the prison felt like walking into death row. From one prison into another Merle thought walking beside Daryl. He didn't dare ask about you. Though the question burned in his mind so brightly that he nearly screamed it several times. It wasn't the time... wasn't the place. Not after the things Daryl had seen. Not after the changes he'd made. He wasn't the same Daryl that Merle left behind. More mature. Decisive. It was good to see in a way. It brough Pride to his chest in way that made him want to smile. It also brought tears in a painful way that made him want to scream and cry out for the time he lost. When the gates opened and only hostility came... you never did Merle looked desperately to Daryl who only could look to the ground. "Went out lookin' for ya." Merle shook his head turning towards the gate. "Merle." Daryl yelled. "I... I'll take ya too 'em." Daryl sighed looking very much like the boy Merle remembered. Leading Merle to a group of graves only marked with crosses not in a dissimilar way that the group at the Quarry used Daryl stopped. Feeling bile rise to the top of his throat at the sick feeling of Deja vu Merle shook his head. "Went out lookin' for ya every day... one day... didn't come back so I went lookin'..." Daryl sniffed gesturing to a cross with your name. "Found 'em turned and wandering back by Woodbury... not sure what happened... but we have our ideas."

Merle lived day by day and in a daze from then on. He lived for Daryl. Had to keep him safe. Like he always did. but it was different. Without you there to light up his life he was just existing waiting for what he couldn't put a name to it. So when the governor wanted to meet. A trade. Merle knew what he had to do. You died near Woodbury. The Governor knew... now... he would pay... he would know not to fuck with Rick... He'd stay the fuck away from Daryl and he'd regret ever letting you die on his land.

Impulsive. Merle had always been impulsive. and it always got him in trouble... but this time as his vison faded to black and a light shined in his eyes he was sure was the sun... he heard your voice... and he smiled.

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

.batcrow feat. the owl.

or a situation, which is stuck somewhere between existential threat an’ scuffle between barn animals.

...

(it’s one of those underdeveloped, raw-ish concepts that i indulge in just for funzies. it all started very simply. i was thinking about what kind of person might make bruce jealous. the topic was kinda challenging, considering that bruce in the comics *at least in the ones, i read* or even btas is rarely express this emotion if at all. in fact, at one point, he literally said to the woman, who he supposedly was in love with, that she should stay with the other man, who also liked her, bc he needed her more *he got disfigured an' such* an’ she was like ‘wtf is wrong with you. to paw me to the other man like that’, clearly outraged. but bruce didn’t seem to fully grasp what her issue was lol.

still, what if he somehow got jealous of another man, when it comes to crane, anyways? and who that man could possibly be? my first thought was superman, bc bruce generally can be kinda petty, when it comes to him. but clark is such a puppy-like character. he wouldn’t have been mean about it, or even be someone who could potentially like jon in such a manner. at worst, bruce might have got annoyed at crane *not clark*, if he said smth about superman’s strong arms in front of him. some jealousy there, but not quite what i was looking for, when pondering on that set up.

an' then, i recalled the owlman! i only know the version of him from the cartoon, an’ honestly after seeing glimpses of what they do with him in comics, i’d say this is the only owlman for me. from the crisis on 2 earths ‘toon. gotta admire a character, who is SO nihilistic an’ SO sure in his own worldview, that he literally does nothing an’ dies, just bc it doesn’t matter to him. he even smiles a bit, if i remember correctly. kinda both chillin’ an’ sad. the owlman had an ego, but he also just kinda….wanted everything to die an’ that’s it. he is what might have happened, if bruce went full blown doctor strangelove, after his parents death. which is funny, bc owlman isn’t bruce wayne at all, but he is the one who ‘takes’ his place in his own universe. i don’t remember if it was ever revealed in the cartoon, who the owlman was or if they left it ambiguous. i'm pretty sure, that they made him bruce’s brother in the comics, specifically. but i might be wrong, bc there was a few owlman in batman's ran, i think...?

either way, this version here is devoid of backstory. the main thing for him is that there was never a bruce wayne in his universe, an’ coincidently enough, no jonathan crane, either. as result, owlman knows nothing about scarecrow. he had analogs of other batman’s rogue gallery, who were either heroes or anti-heroes, but he never had professor of fear of his own. an' that’s part of the reason why he gets slightly curious about him. at the begining, it's very casual on his part. i guess, he might have wondered why it's those two *jon an' bruce* specifically, who never existed in his reality. everybody else, clearly did. so he looks a bit closer into it, still mostly for the sport. only to find out about strange relationships that crane has with the bat.

the owlman is an isolated kind of character. he doesn’t care for his own teammates. nor he's able to reciprocate their affection. i mean, he didn’t really react to the villain version of wonder woman kissing him. he was surprised, sure, but not hurrying to return the gesture or even seemingly knowing what to do about this situation. which led me to believe, that at least in the frames of that toon’s worldbuilding, he had no alt alfred or robin or anyone, who he was close with. kinda an opposite of batman, who does to a degree surrenders himself with people, even if he keeps them at *emotional* distance, more often than not. but the point is, that bruce still wants a connections an’ not devoid of hope to see the things sorta/kinda working up. in comparison, owlman is as nihilistic as a person can get, so it makes zero sense for him to have close ties with anyone. or even see it smth that he needs. but i imagine that witnessing how batman acts with his enemies, jon esp, be a very confusing experience for him. like, why pity such a person? why even show some small signs of kinship with him? an' what’s so different about this one, if anything at all? 

so after some more pondering, he approaches crane just to see for himself, if he is worth all that effort *sympathy* or not. an’ hey, scarecrow is kinda fun. reactive an’ jerky, an’ surprisingly aggressive for such a coward. owlman's usual enemies are the good guys. they're heroic an' noble. but jonathan isn’t that. not even close. his worldview is bitter an' twisted. whatever wrongs were done to him, didn't mold him into a hero like with any other owlman's enemy. the scarecrow is a villain to the boot an' it's...new. his use of fear is interesting too. none of his enemies had this gimmick. this makes the owlman wanna play around with him for a bit longer. or owlman experience unknown emotions for the first time in years an’ kinda not fully certain what to do about it, other than indulge in it. his end goal still the same. it won’t change for/or bc of anything, but he can have a small distraction, before the curtains call. it's not everyday, when he can find a person, who is kinda interesting to him, even if bc of pure novelity that he can hang out with a man, who had never existed in his own timeline.

then, he learns about the scarecrow’s life. how it went downhill or rather, how it was sorta doomed from the start almost. an’ oh. here it is. that’s what batman feels too, isn't it? that silver of kinship. the owlman never had this before. an’ it’s not a bad feeling, either. he was never able to relate to the others. it’s like ‘everything sucks so much. everything just sucks forever’ an’ he has found someone who understands the meaning of this sentiment, an' not just being an emo about life. at least, the owl would assume that jon understand it in the exact same way he does *but jon doesn’t lol* 

meanwhile, bruce is concerned. owlman is a very bad, bad kind of man to have around crane for many different reasons. one of which is that it doesn't sound like a hard thing to convince someone like crane, that destroying everything is the only 'right' way to go about things. jonathan's life is generally was an' still is awful, so why not end it all, but with a huge, literal bang?

it’s like a nihilistic doom an’ gloomy buddy club. sounds hella corky, but in reality, it’s dark stuff, actually. jon be beyond depressed in this case. him getting all buddy-buddy with people, who are more unhinged an’ dangerous than him isn’t a new thing. but in this case, it’s like an extra salt on batman’s open wound. the bat himself states in comics at least twice, how crane is one of those villains, who don’t just stay the same, but who progressively gets more an’ more insane an’ deranged each time he breaks out of arkham. him hanging out with the person, whose worldview is basically ‘it would have been so much better, if we all were dead’ an' who literally an' genunily means this, isn’t smth that is good for jonathan's *already declined* mental health. esp if owlman is also rather problematic in other ways too. not to meantion, that him dragging crane along is also kinda personal. in this way, he might be showing bruce, that no matter how much he wants his rogues to change or how much good will he shows them, they're all just human, therefore they're all hopeless an' bad. bc all humas are bad in owlman's understanding. it's like 'aw, you want to believe that this one isn't a lost cause? what if i will make him help me to murder everybody? still think he worthy of your delusions?' owlman might have an end goal, but he's also arrogant an' petty too.

on main, i have two rough-ish concepts for their uhhh, trio shippy thing. in PG-ish version, it’s just that owlman influencing jon in an awful ways, an’ since he kinda/sorta resembles batman, crane subconsciously rely on him, bc he's somewhat familiar. besides, the owl hints that his own life was bad too, an’ it’s like finally someone gets on the same level of despair as crane does. an' also, maybe...this what could have been, if the bat was a villain too. they could have been on the same team. so in a way, it's kinda more of jonathan playing into this weird fantasy of himself an' bad batman, than him fully understanding the real level of 'oof' that owlman tries to acomplish with 'the plan'.

*funny enough tho, where it really counts, jon isn’t like owlman. he, for one isn’t someone who would just give up. after every fail an’ each kick an’ shove, he still gets up. the thing about jonathan is that he wouldn’t just lie down an’ die no matter how much pain an' humilation an' despair, he felt. an’ he also wouldn’t *in the end* commit to the idea of murdering countless people just bc his life sucked. even if, it doesn’t mean, that he won’t go through motions an’ nearly, truly consider going along with it. he isn’t alright in the head, an’ his negative emotions tend to get the best of him. still, i feel like most versions of jonathan would in the end, decide that no, it's not what he wants or ready to take responsibility for.*

it all would resolve in comic book fashion, where jon would help the bat in the end, an’ not that other man, who had his allure an’ had almost seduced crane into doing one last evil act any human being in existence could have ever done. still, there always be longing on scarecrow’s part for this odd, wrong ‘batman’, even if he sticks with his own, regardless. 

*an’ yeah, the bat is kinda jealous throughout all of this lol. the world can be hanging by a thread, but no one said, that he cannot be a tad possessive, while he’s saving it *an’ crane* too. owlman will have fun with this knowledge, while it will go completely over jonathan’s head. mister ‘i can pin-point everyone’s fear from one conversation’ would have a really hard time understanding that batman’s beef with the owl not strictly hero vs villain thing*

then, in more mature version, it's kinda the same-ish plot, but owlman prob would do way more messed up things, which might put crane into a position, where he’s afraid to not comply, but also not actually willing to do it. an’ naturally, there bruce won’t be jealous, more so angry. really struggling with idea, if he should let just this one man *or an owl, whichever rings more true* die. an’ then, if this is a reflection of him, what kind of person, he really is. so it’s more of moral dilemma an’ a character study of a nihilistic sociopath, who just might have wanted to have a lil chew-toy, as he prepares his biggest scheme.

anyways, it’s not like an otp3 or anything. i’m a very bond/pair oriented fella. so when i’m dabbing into 3 way dynamics, it usually has more situational/reactive undertones. but i won't deny, that it’s fun to think about 'what if' or even about some situation in the void, where the bat an’ the owl double teame the crow. which in any plot-included or a somewhat coherent narrative just wouldn’t have happened bc of how all 3 of them function / react to things. it just not in their character to do it this...randomly. but if i will ever make a superhero pwp ficlet collection, i might try to do smth with this idea.)

[sociallyrepressed]

I’ve finally calmed down enough from Hungary ‘24 to give my two cents

(tw for absolute UNITS of blocks of text)

I feel like people forget that racing is a selfish sport at its core: there is only one winner. Formula 1 adds in the component of the Constructors, which means that drivers do have to somewhat work with their teammate, but in cases like Sunday (McLaren was pretty much guaranteed a 1-2 win) it really is down to the driver. I bring this up to say that the drivers are, at their core, also selfish (when it comes to racing at the very least). The MOMENT they pit Lando first and practically put him in the lead they should have realized what a struggle it would have been to switch back. He’s second in the Drivers Championship and pretty much every point matters. They should have pit Oscar first since he was leading the race and Lewis was far enough behind that Lando would have been fine. Instead, they left an opening for Lando to win and his pace those last laps was really good. At that point, they should have just let him finish p1 because what they ended up doing was humiliating and unfair to both drivers. And Lando definitely played some part in that, too, but again, he’s a racer, he’s going to gun it for first no matter what. Oscar earned that win all on his own merit from the get-go, and I’m so so happy and proud for him. It is unfortunate that McLaren fucked the strategy and it’s pathetic that they made him feel like he had to apologize for his maiden win.

Continuing on this last point, I was disappointed to see the podium celebration and Lando blowing past him, but I won’t speak on it too much because I don’t want. I just wanted to bring it up because a lot of people have strong emotions about it. The podium celebration and the cool-down room are such hot topics in regards to Lando’s behavior. I don’t want to justify his decisions by comparing him to others, but I’m going to anyways. I’m going to bring up Mad Max first because a lot of fans have a love hate relationship with him. We saw a glimpse of him on radio today and people loved it (some people didn’t, but not the point), and many fans are begging for the resurgence of Mad Max. I personally feel like Mad Max is even worse than the behavior in the cool down room, and people seem to be latching onto that. He’s very upset and being borderline rude, I’m not going downplay that, but he still congratulated Oscar and they acted like typical Landoscar while waiting to be interviewed post-race. So, other than the champagne spray on the podium (which could have been chalked up to him making sure he didn’t make Oscar drop the trophy or if he intentionally avoided spraying him, we won’t know since we’re not Lando) he’s been supportive.

Fans like to remind Lando that he’s not anywhere close to being on the same level of the greats such as Lewis, Max, and Sebastian. I will admit that I’m a newer fan and may not understand the intricacies of their relationship with the sport and teammates, but I’m pretty sure none of them would have been open to giving up p1 even if they only got the lead due to their team’s mistakes. Especially if they were second in the wdc. I would also like to bring up the Aston Martin thing. A good example of selfish drivers. Fernando allowed Lance to pass him with the promise that if he couldn’t overtake, then the position would be returned to him. Surprise surprise, Lance didn’t return it. If a driver didn’t return a position so that he could have a one-point finish, how do you expect a driver to react to returning a position that gives up a win. Probably wouldn’t expect him to give it back.

Anyways, I think McLaren lucked out with their driver lineup and the fact they respect each other so much. I think they got complacent after seeing how well Lando and Oscar get along that they forgot about how selfish drivers can be. Especially Lando, since he’s been with them since his start and he’s turned down other interested teams. He and Oscar have done so much for that team.

I’ve got more thoughts but I’m going to keep them to myself for now. Since both drivers have got a taste of winning, I’m excited to see what Spa brings.

And congrats to Oscar Piastri, a freaking Grand Prix winner !!!!