#be able to accommodate that right? that make sense?

[burningcheese-merchant]

I NEED GENERAL HCS ABOUT YANDERE BEAST!!!

YOU GOT IT, BOSS 🫡

Mystic Flour is the only one who's self-aware and knows how fucked up and ridiculous all of this is. She hates herself and her friends for being this way, she hates Dark Cacao for making her feel this way (but also understands how unreasonable it is to blame him), she hates that she's ultimately been ripped away from enlightenment through this... disease that's been brought upon her. But she also can't change and doesn't really know how to (and the feelings are honestly so strong that they practically control her. She wants to obsess over Cacao but also doesn't. She has to endure a lot of cognitive dissonance and being at war with herself all the time, and it causes a massive mental and emotional strain on her), so she's essentially stuck with this bizarre infatuation with the man she's supposed to hate

Silent Salt is the most "successful" of the five, in that he makes the best effort to actually understand who White Lily is as a person and accommodate her accordingly. He knows what flowers she likes and brings her them. He knows what she likes to eat. He knows how she braids her hair (he learned that by watching her do it lol). Things like that. And he really, truly has no interest in harming her in any way, so he's also technically the least threatening one. Lily is more willing to put up with him than the others are with their Beasts because of this: he's able to demonstrate that he's capable of being docile, thus lulling her into a big enough sense of security that she doesn't run from him on sight. (But make no mistake, Salt is still creepy and a sick person and what he does is wrong. The dynamic between him and Lily is arguably the saddest one because Lily feels a certain sense of obligation towards him; she doesn't return his feelings but still feels sort of touched that he makes this effort for her, and also - more importantly - she feels like she has no right to judge or condemn him for his actions because of her own as Dark Enchantress. She's a bad person, too. So in a way, to some degree, she understands him. In fact, she almost has this misguided notion of maybe "fixing" him, as a consequence of him being so calm around her. They lose ground with each other whenever the yandere tendencies REALLY come out of Salt (as in, when she spends time with other people lol); he scares her and pushes her away further with his controlling behavior, she feels like she undoes whatever semblance of progress she made in "taming" him. They're trapped in a very strange and tragic loop where Lily is constantly victim-blaming herself and accidentally enabling Salt's obsession, and Salt is not facing proper consequences for his behavior nor fully grasping that he's being abusive.)

Eternal Sugar, having once been the Herald of Happiness, has experience with charming and pleasing others, and understanding one's joys and wishes. However, after becoming a Beast, she's come to ultimately place HER happiness before all others', and this mentality manifests in her attempts to woo Hollyberry. She'll give Holly happy dreams full of things she knows Holly likes (she, like Salt, actually does make an effort) - BUT, many of these things end up being warped to Sugar's own liking, as she is a fundamentally selfish person and believes her way is superior. Thus, whatever pleasant dreams she grants Holly always end up conforming to Sugar's own tastes (and she always does SOMETHING to Holly's friends and loved ones in them, because Sugar is extremely petty and jealous). Holly is not happy with this, but allows it to happen because she believes it's a better alternative to incentivizing Sugar to come to her in person (she hates enabling Sugar in this way, but Holly always prefers to try deescalation if and when possible). Holly honestly feels really sorry for Sugar, she thinks Sugar is a deeply sick and unhappy (haha) person and, like Lily with Salt, wants to help her. However, unlike Lily, she's more level-headed about the situation and fully grasps the gravity/severity of it all, and so everything she says and does with/to Sugar is extremely calculated so as not to antagonize her and risk retaliation (against her loved ones; Holly can handle herself and isn't afraid of anyone).

Shadow Milk, like Flour, also grapples with a level of cognitive dissonance regarding his obsession with Pure Vanilla, in that he is hateful and endlessly frustrated towards Vanilla but also genuinely adores him. He will be caught sweet-talking and kissing his Vanilla puppet, only to destroy it in anger moments later (and then he'll make another one to replace it, because he legitimately cannot function without Vanilla, even just a puppet version of him). He's waxing poetic about Vanilla's virtues in one breath, then hemming and hawing about Vanilla's flaws in the next. He's irritated by Vanilla's unyielding goody two-shoes nature, he wants to break his mind and spirit as completely as possible... but he also LOVES Vanilla's mental strength and endurance, it's his favorite thing about the man, he never wants Vanilla to break and hopes he stays strong no matter what Milk throws at him. He's cultivated a very Batman/Joker-esque dynamic between them in his mind; of course he wants to "win", but he also adores this game they play together and never wants it to end. Regardless, what underlies Milk's volatile emotions is a very strong sense, albeit deranged, of connection and kinship towards Vanilla. He loves Vanilla because they understand each other so perfectly, are on the same intellectual level (Vanilla is smart, Milk likes that, he wouldn't love him if he was dumb, the only thing dumb people are good for is cheap entertainment), and are ultimately, LITERALLY designed for one another. He hates Vanilla because Vanilla is refusing to accept Milk's POV about the world (not understand, he KNOWS Vanilla understands, VANILLA IS NOT DUMB!), is refusing his advances despite all the love and effort he puts in constantly (come on, who doesn't want to be romantically and sexually harassed inside their own thoughts?), and is actively hindering any other sinister plans Milk has in general (Vanilla knows how to play mind games too. He often stalls Milk for time to figure out how to properly outsmart him. And he always manages to do so, however long it takes). He loves Vanilla, he hates Vanilla, he loves Vanilla, he hates, Vanilla, BUT NO ONE CAN HAVE VANILLA BESIDES HIM REGARDLESS!

Burning Spice, on top of his feverish obsession with Golden Cheese in general, has an obsession WITHIN that obsession: he's obsessed with the concept of marking/branding her. Hickeys on her neck, bruises on her waist and stomach (be they from holding her or outright punching her), scratches on her back. Anywhere and everywhere he can reach with his hands and mouth, he wants to make his presence known, both to her and to anyone who sees her. And that's what's driving it: he wants people to see what he's done to her and know that it was him. It's a way to convey ownership of her. Golden Cheese is HIS, she is HIS to fight and beat and break, HIS to touch and taste, HIS to love and adore, and he wants to rub it into everyone else's face. (On the flipside, he actually would love if she did the exact same to him; nothing would bring him greater joy than her "claiming" him as he wants to "claim" her... and really, he just loves when she's feisty)

Apparently, there's an actual character limit to posts? So I guess I'll stop here lol. One factoid about each Yandere Beast. I have more to offer, all you have to do is ask for it

[ineffable-gallimaufry]

any time i write a story where i did not entirely plan how to insert the side characters it always ends up that i just do some random thing without explaining it and just leave it there. whoops. anyways knuckles is deaf now

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

You're driving somewhere and the person in the passenger seat is giving directions because they know the area. You're approaching an intersection with two lanes on your side of the road and ask them which lane you need to be in. They tell you: You need to be in the inside lane.

it was really hard to write this question in a way that accommodates both left side and right side of the road drivers so i hope it makes sense sdlfkjksdhf pls i'm curious if i'm weird (if you don't drive then theoretically what lane would you assume)

[tacticalprincess]

tw somno, dubcon

könig using your pussy as a soothing agent for his nightmares. :(

you convince yourself it makes sense. he sees you as proof of everything good in the world, the one and only thing dear to him. sometimes when he sleeps his subconscious convinces him he’s still out on the battlefield, replaying his worst, most unlivable moments. so when he wakes up and needs something real and good to cling onto, simply clutching you tighter in his heavy arms isn’t enough. he complains that he can never get you as close as he needs you, so in moments like these it’s not uncommon to wake up to him slipping inside your soft, pliant pussy. all he has to do is lift your leg up and ease into your sleeping body from behind, and he rationalizes it by saying that it wouldn’t be so easy if you didn’t want it. it’s like your pussy is könig-shaped, always so accommodating for him.

“köni—?” you whine pathetically, brain still foggy from sleep. “bad dream?”

you hear him whimper at that through his heavy huffs. it’s still up for debate who’s more vulnerable in these moments. “shhh. let me have this, engel. you’re too far away.”

not having the energy to question him, you sigh and shift your ass back, taking advantage of how relaxed your body is to close the gap and spear yourself fully on his big cock. “‘m right here. you have it.” you comfort him lazily, eyes still closed as you clutch the large hand that comes to rest on your stomach, plastering you against his warm chest. “go back to sleep.”

you’ll make sure he’s okay in the morning, but for right now you let him take what he needs. it’s not like you could ever understand the psychological effects of warfare, it’s the least you can do for your hardworking boyfriend :(

“so good to me, so perfect.” he kisses the back of your head reverently, cock twitching inside of you. he ignores every impulse in body that’s telling him to fuck into you with all his strength, instead mindlessly grinding his hips as deep inside you as he can reach, holding onto you and soothing himself with the feeling of being encompassed by your sweet warmth.

it’s always just as mind blowing to him as the first time; how quickly your pussy is able to comfort him, putting him to sleep in more ways than one. if that isn’t proof enough of how meant for him you are, he doesn’t know what is…

[imaginaryf1shots]

Soulmate | Charles Leclerc Ver.

WC: 4.8K

Summery: Once you hit puberty, a red string ties both you and your soulmate together until the moment you meet.

Warning: Not edited, nothing else?

Masterlist

Charles Masterlist

Max Ver. , Oscar Ver. , Lewis Ver.

You live in a world where when a person hits puberty they see a red string. The string is tied to your ring finger on your left hand, and only you get to see the string, well… you and the person on the other side of the string anyway. Your soulmate. It’s like a delicate myth, but it’s real life. There’s a delicate, ethereal thread that connects two souls that are destined to find each other. 

The soulmate string gets tighter and more taught the closer you are to meeting your soulmate, and if you’re one of the lucky ones, the moment you touch your string it sends a ting to your soulmate. Not all soulmates can feel it and not both of them have to. 

And just your luck it seems like you’re one of the ‘lucky’ soulmates who get to feel it, you believe 99% that your soulmate doesn’t share that ability. Because no matter how many times you played with the string your soulmate didn’t touch his. But, he plays with it all the time. Sometimes, too much. Especially when you were younger and couldn’t focus on anything but the tingling going down your body.

One thing about the string is it points in the direction of your soulmate. If you follow the string it’ll lead you straight to your soulmate. It seemed like your soulmate loved travelling, because there’s no way he can be in almost every direction during a week or two, so finding him seemed almost impossible to you. 

You’ve been aware of the string for it seemed like as long as you could remember, life before it seemed to not exist. From when you hit puberty, you could feel the subtle presence that seemed to come and go. A reminder that somewhere out there, someone was connected to you.

Your life in many ways was ordinary. You had a steady job, lived in a comfortable apartment. Spend your free time indulging in your hobbies, going out, meeting friends. Yet there always seemed to be something missing.

It wasn’t that you were unhappy; you simply felt incomplete, like a puzzle with one piece missing. And no matter how much you tried to focus on other things, the string was always there, a quiet reminder that your other half was still out there somewhere.

Then, one morning, everything changed.

You woke up with a holt, your heart racing as if you just ran a marathon. You sat up in bed, breathing heavily, and instinctively placing your hand on your ring finger, where the string was tied. It pulsed with energy, stringer than you’ve ever felt before. The sensation was overwhelming, almost like the string itself was calling you out, urging you to pay attention.

You pulled up your laptop as if you were on autopilot and opened a web page you’ve never opened before, and did something you’ve never done before, all following what the string was urging you to do.

After you’re done and you lean back on the headboard do you think about what you did, you just booked a ticket to a Formula 1 race.

Why? You’ve never seen a race before, never been interested. Just watched the trailer for Drive to Survive on Netflix. But the idea is planted firmly in your head. It wasn’t just a passing thought, and you don’t feel like changing your mind, it was a compulsion, a pull so strong that it felt as if the string itself was guiding you.

This didn’t make sense and yet it felt completely right. The string was humming in approva, telling you that this is the right thing, the right path.

Now you have to book a flight and accommodation to Italy, Monza. It was all happening in a few weeks, everything was super expensive, but you didn’t think about your budget and all the things that you no longer will be able to do. Within minutes, you had booked everything you needed, your heart pounding in a mixture of excitement and nervousness. It was as if you no longer had control and just a passenger being guided by the string.

Over the next few weeks, it was like fate was playing something on you, your social media was filled with everything Formula 1, you kept dreaming of red cars, loud engines and the thrill of speed.  You gravitated towards the colour more than any other time in your life. It was as if the universe was conspiring to ensure you followed the string’s guidance, and you found herself surrendering to it completely.

As the day of the race approached, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something monumental was about to happen. The string was more active than ever, pulling you toward a future you could only imagine. It was different from the tingling you got whenever your soulmate touched the string. However you found yourself doubting it all, what had once seemed like a brilliant and fated decision a few weeks ago now felt reckless and impulsive. You had never been one to do things on a whim, especially to the point of travelling and spending a lot of money on a trip you’ll be on alone.

The strong tugged insistently, refusing to let you back out, every time you opened up to cancel your plans, the tug grew stronger, like a gentle and firm reminder that this was where you were meant to be. The undeniable force, propelling you toward Monza.

Despite this, the anxiety gnawed at you. What if you were making a mistake? What if you got there and nothing happened, no grand revelation, no destined encounter? The string might have been real, but it didn’t come with guarantees or explanations.

And so, with your bags packed and your heart full of anticipation, you set off for Monza, ready to embrace whatever the string had in store for you.

You didn’t know what to expect, but one thing was certain: the string had never led you wrong before. And now, as it pulled you toward the Italian Grand Prix, you knew that you were  about to find out just how powerful the invisible thread could be.

You spent the days leading up to your departure preparing as best you could, though no amount of packing or planning could ease the nervous tension that coiled in your stomach. You packed your bags carefully, choosing outfits that would suit the late summer Italian weather, making sure to include a few pieces that could be considered stylish yet practical, you had no idea what the atmosphere at an F1 race would be like, after all. 

Your friends, while supportive, didn’t quite understand what had driven you to make this decision. 

“An F1 race? I didn’t know you were into that.” One of your closest friends had said, a curious smile on her face when you had mentioned the trip.

“I’m not, really.” You had replied, the words sounding strange even to your own ears. “I just… I don’t know. I feel like I need to be there. It’s hard to explain.”

“Well, who knows? Maybe your string is leading you to someone important.” Your friend had teased, though her eyes had softened with understanding.

“Maybe.” You had echoed, your hand instinctively moving to the spot on your finger where you felt the string the strongest. But you hadn’t told anyone just how intense the pull had become, how the string seemed almost alive with energy, vibrating with anticipation.

The day of your departure arrived, and with it, a wave of nervous excitement. You boarded the plane with your heart pounding, each breath feeling like a step closer to something inevitable. As the plane took off, you closed your eyes and tried to focus on the rhythm of the string, letting it soothe your nerves. It pulsed steadily, a reassuring presence that reminded you weren’t alone in this, someone was on the other end, and they were getting closer with every passing minute.

The day had begun like any other for Charles, but there was a subtle shift in the air that he couldn’t quite place. As he went through his morning routine, something felt different, a lingering sense of anticipation that made his pulse quicken. The sensation wasn’t entirely unfamiliar; he had felt it before, at various points in his life. But today, it was stronger, more insistent, as if something monumental was coming.

He absently tugged at the invisible string that had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember. The string was always there, a quiet reminder that somewhere out in the world, his soulmate was waiting for him. It had been with him through every high and low, through victories on the track and moments of doubt, always steady, always present. It has always brought him comfort.

But today, the string was different. It thrummed with an intensity he had never felt before, like a live wire humming with electricity. Each gentle tug he gave it seemed to amplify the feeling, sending a wave of warmth through his chest. It was almost distracting, pulling his thoughts away from the upcoming race and toward the person on the other end of the string. Whoever they were, they were close. Closer than they had ever been before.

The pull felt urgent, almost impatient, as if it was trying to tell him something. He tried to push the thought aside, focusing on his training, his strategy, but the string wouldn’t be ignored.

Between meetings with the team and media obligations, Charles found himself reaching for the string, giving it a gentle tug as if testing the waters. Each time, he felt an answering pull, faint but unmistakable. It was as if the string was alive, responding to his touch like never before, and with each interaction, the sensation grew stronger. The closer the race day came, the more the string seemed to tighten, almost pulling him off balance.

Charles had heard stories from other drivers about the moment they met their soulmates—how the string had led them, sometimes in the most unexpected ways. He had always believed his time would come, but he hadn’t expected it to be now, in the middle of one of the most important weekends of his career. And yet, the string had never been wrong before. If it was this insistent, it could only mean one thing: his soulmate was near.

The thought filled him with a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. What if they were right here, in Monza? What if he was about to meet the person who was connected to him by this invisible thread, the person who was meant to complete him? 

That night, after a long day of preparations, Charles lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling of his hotel room. The hum of the city outside was a comforting backdrop, but his thoughts were miles away. The string was taut now, almost vibrating with energy, and he could feel it deep in his chest. There was no mistaking it anymore, something life-changing was about to happen, and it was coming fast.

He closed his eyes, letting his hand rest over his ring finger, where the string was most palpable. The connection was strong, almost as if the person on the other end was reaching out to him, trying to bridge the gap between them. He tugged on the string once more, feeling the now familiar warmth spread through him, and this time, the pull was even stronger, almost desperate.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought about the possibilities. Whoever they were, wherever they were, they were close, so close that he could almost feel their presence. The anticipation was almost unbearable, but it was a good kind of tension, the kind that made his heart race in the best way possible.

Charles drifted off to sleep with the string still humming in his chest, the last thought on his mind being the image of meeting his soulmate, finally seeing the person who had been connected to him all these years. The person who, in some inexplicable way, had always been a part of his life.

By the time you arrived in Italy, the string was humming with energy. The warm, late summer air greeted you as you stepped out of the airport, a stark contrast to the cool anxiety that clung to your skin. Monza was just a short train ride away, and the closer you got, the more the string seemed to tighten, as if your soulmate was moving as well, drawing closer.

When you finally arrived at the race venue, you were overwhelmed by the sheer size and scale of everything. The roar of engines, the excited chatter of thousands of fans, it was all a sensory overload. The red of Ferrari catching your eye. The same shade of red you’ve been dreaming of.

You moved through the mass of people, clutching your pass around your neck, trying to steady your racing heart. The string was in control now, pulling you, almost guiding your steps as you navigated through the chaos. It was a strange sensation, like being led by an invisible hand, and you found yourself trusting it completely. You followed the pull without question, weaving through the crowded as if you new exactly what you were doing, and where you’re going.

The closer you got to the paddock area, the stronger the pull became. It was no longer just a gentle tug but a firm and insistent force that you could never ignore. Your pace quickened, your heart pounding. You didn’t know what you were looking for, but you knew you were close, closer than you had ever been before.

And then, suddenly, you felt it. A strong, unmistakable tug on the string, as if someone on the other end was pulling you forward. You stopped dead  in your tracks, startled by the intensity of the sensation. It was as if the world around you had shifted, the noise and chaos of the race fading into the background as the string took centre stage. 

And then you weren’t moving of your own merit, it was literally as if someone got a hold of the soulmate string and was pulling on it, your hand in the air and you were walking, so you wouldn’t fall straight onto your face. Each step felt heavy with anticipation of what will meet you on the other end of the string.

And then, just as you rounded a corner, you were stopped by security. A large, stern-faced guard held up a hand, barring your path. “I’m sorry, miss, this area is restricted.” He said, his tone firm but polite.

Your heart sank, and it took everything in you to not take a step forward when the next tug came. You could feel your soulmate, just out of reach. Panic began to set in, as you tried to explain, the words tumbling out in a frantic rush.

“Please, you don't understand.” You pleaded. “ I have to get through, My soulmate is inside, and the string is pulling me.”

The guard frowned, clearly sceptical. “I can’t let you in without the proper pass. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to turn back.”

But you didn’t turn around, you couldn’t. The next pull had you walking a few steps forwards.

“Please, please, just let me through, I need to find my soulmate.”

“Look, we get that a lot, the fans always come trying to act as if one of the drivers is their soulmates when it’s clearly not.” The guard said and another one came to see what was going on, both blocked your path completely.

“I’m not a-” You’re cut off but a hard tug, the guards hold your biceps to stop you from moving. 

“What the…” The second guard trails off, your legs aren’t moving but your upper body is being pushed by an invisible force. The guards share a look, this is real, your soulmate is inside. “Go with her, I’ll stay here.”

“Thank you, thank you.” You told them and followed the string. The guard walked by your side, your heart skipped a beat in thought that you’ll finally meet your soulmate.

The paddock was a flurry of activity, with team members rushing about, media personnel setting up cameras, and the roar of engines echoing through the area. For most, it was just another thrilling race day at Monza, but for Charles, today felt different. The string tugged at him with a force that was nearly overwhelming, its intensity far beyond anything he had ever felt before. 

It was like a constant thrum in his chest, an insistent reminder that something, someone, was close. Every nerve in his body was attuned to it, and he couldn’t focus on anything else. He had tried to go through the usual pre-race motions, but his concentration kept slipping. His thoughts were consumed by the string and the strange sense of anticipation that had been building for days.

Charles wandered through the paddock most of the day, pretending to be busy, but his mind was elsewhere. He kept glancing around, searching for something he couldn’t name. He tugged at the string absently, the familiar gesture now charged with an electric energy. Each pull was met with an answering force, stronger than ever, as if the person on the other end was tugging back, trying to reach him.

Carlos and his team noticed his distracted state, but none of them said anything. They knew Charles well enough to understand that something significant was going on, though they couldn’t begin to guess what it might be. 

Charles paused for a moment, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He needed to get a grip on himself, he had a race to focus on. But no matter how hard he tried, the string wouldn’t let him go. Charles allowed himself to follow the tugging of the string, he got out of the garage and into the pitlane, the string wasn’t loose on the ground anymore, it was taught, touching it softly, Charles just followed his heart and started pulling. It looked strange to those standing around him but he just pulled, he didn’t care.

The tugging grew worse the more you walked. You definitely gained more than a few weirded out looks from people standing and walking around. You came out onto the pitlane and followed the string through a few people standing around, and then you saw it. Right there is your soulmate, he’s pulling on the sting with a cute but confused look on his face.

“You can stop pulling now.” You say once you were close enough so he could hear you. Charles looks up at the sound of your voice, his heart skipping a beat, there you stood. The most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, the sun was coming up from behind you, making you shine. 

You weren’t prepared for the sight of the man standing before you, the man who was connected to you by the same string that had been with you for so many years.

The world seemed to fade away, the noise of the paddock reduced to a distant hum as the two of you stared at each other in disbelief. The string shimmered between you, a tangible symbol of the connection that had always been there, just waiting for the right moment to bring them together. 

Charles followed the string on your finger to his, making sure that you’re his actual soulmate, even though the fact that he can see the string in the first place is an indication of  your connection.

Charles took a tentative step forward, the string tugging at him with a gentle insistence. The tension in the string eased slightly, as if satisfied that its work was nearly done.

Finally, Charles found his voice. “It’s you.” He said softly, the words coming out almost as a whisper. “You’re the one.”

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. You could feel the truth of his words in every part of your being. The sting is shorter than it’s ever been, brighter than it’s ever been.

As his fingers brushed the glowing thread, it dissolved into a soft light, disappearing from view but leaving behind a deep, unbreakable bond. The moment your hands touched, a surge of warmth flooded through both of you, a sensation of completeness that neither had ever felt before. It was as if a missing piece had finally clicked into place, and you were whole for the first time in your lives. When did he even get this close?

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. You simply stood there, gazing at each other, the reality of what happened sinking in. The noise of the paddock fading even further into the background until it was just the two of you. Looking at your hands, you see the last of the string dissolve into nothing, and in its place a tattoo-like line wrap around your finger where the string once was, the mark on  your finger an exact replica to the one that made itself at home on Charles’ finger.

For a brief moment, it was as though time had stopped. But soon, reality began to seep back in. The sounds of the paddock returned to normal, the chatter of people, the hum of engines, and the distant roar of the crowd became more prominent. Yet even as the world resumed its usual pace, you and Charles remained locked in the orbit of their newfound connection.

"Would you like to... go somewhere quieter?" Charles finally asked, his voice gentle, almost hesitant. Despite his fame and confidence on the track, this moment felt far more significant, and he was suddenly unsure of himself in a way he hadn’t been in a long time.

You nodded, grateful for the suggestion. “Yes, that would be nice.” You replied softly, your voice still trembling with emotion. It’s then that you notice the amount of people standing around you that saw what had just happened. You have no idea why they were all watching the two of you with intensity.

Charles led you through the busiest parts of the garage, with practised steps. Once you were alone in his driver’s room, Charles turned to face you, his expression a mixture of awe and uncertainty.

“I don’t even know where to start.” He admitted with a slight chuckle. “This is… well, it’s a lot.”

“It is.” You smiled feeling a little more at ease now that you were away from the chaos. “I’ve imagined this moment so many times, but now that it’s here, I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s a bit much.” Charles takes your hand in his as if he’s been doing it for years, it all felt familiar, yet new and warm. “Have you always liked Formula 1?”

“No, I was never interested until a couple months ago when I woke up and booked the tickets.” You confess suddenly feeling shy. “All I know is from the few videos I watched since booking the tickets.”

“So… Do you know who I am?... That sounded a bit like I'm arrogant." Charles' face went red, he rubbed the back of his neck feeling embarrassed by how the words came out.

"No, no, not at all." You tell him with a soft smile. "I feel a bit embarrassed that I don't."

"Don't be, that means we'll get to know each other from... well, each other." Charles squeezes your hand and you smile and nod.

"I guess we will." Your smile was blinding, Charles can't believe he's spent all his life without having you in it, now that he met you it feels like he just started living, this is a feeling unlike any he felt before. You look around and realise something. "You know red has been such a big colour in my life for so long, but recently the presence of red has been overly so."

"I guess it's because I bleed Ferrari." Charles said.

"What exactly do you do?" You asked him, looking at his clothes, he was just wearing a Ferrari team shirt and jeans.

"I uh, I drive for Scuderia Ferrari." Your mouth makes an 'O' shape and you nod to yourself.

"You're one of the 20 drivers?" Charles lets out a yeah, his smile didn't drop from his face. "We'll have to sit down so you can explain everything to me."

"We will, after I win for you today." Charles promised you, your eyes went wide.

“Do you have to go? You don't have to stay with me, I have tickets for the FIA hospitality." You say pointing at the pass around your neck.

“Not happening, you'll stay in Ferrari, I'll get you a pass before I have to go in a bit." Charles didn't want to let you go and it was obvious. "Give me your phone, just in case."

“Want to get my number already." You tease him before you unlock your phone and give it to him, he puts in his number and calls himself. Charles takes you out of his room, his hand in yours, gaining smiles from everyone he meets. Charles is loved by anyone that has ever come in contact with him, so seeing him with his soulmate makes everyone happy for him. You're given a soulmate pass, teams always had those on hand just in case something like this happens.

Charles leaves you with Rebecca, Carlos' girlfriend, before he has to go. You admit to her your ignorance when it comes to Formula one, she takes it on herself to explain the basics. Charles comes over before he has to get onto the track for the start of the race, and pulls you in for a hug. You sigh in content and return his hug, feeling warm and happy.

"Good luck." You say smiling up at him, your eyes taking his in.

"Thank you." He says, kisses your cheek before he leaves, your face goes red. Rebeca bumps her shoulder with yours and gives you a teasing smile.

“Wait, he's first.” It takes you longer than those around you to realise what has happened.

“Yes! Oh my god!” Rebeca is excited, this is a big win for the Tifosi, currently Ferrari is 1 and 3 and there's 3 more laps to go. “This is Ferrari's home race, this means so much to the team and fans.”

You all watch the last few laps with baited breath, when Charles crosses the line, the garage erupts in cheers, jumping, clapping, and patting on backs. It's chaotic.

“Come on, we get to meet them in Parc Ferme.” Rebeca takes your hand in hers and pulls you with her through the crowd, leading you to the front of the barriers, Lewis in second place is the first to come back followed by Carlos. Carlos jumps from his car and runs to the team, they shout and pull him up so he's part crowd surfing before they place him down, he then goes to Rebeca for a hug and kiss. Meanwhile Charles comes back, he stands in the car with his arms up in celebration, the whole crowd cheers, the team cheers, you clap and smile at your soulmate, you feel his happiness from where you stood, you don't know if it's because of the mate bond or whatever but you feel it. Charles jumps from his car and launches himself into the arms of the team, they pull him up and higher than Carlos, cheering and screaming, they place him down before too long and pat his back in congratulations, Charles looks around until his eyes fall on you, his eyes are scrunched under the helmet no doubt he's smiling. He takes it off while he walks toward you, with determent steps. Charles only hesitates for a second when he's stood in front of you before he puts his hands on your cheeks; they're so big, his fingers are in your hair. You lean in and up and Charles meets you halfway. You've known each other for barely any time, but you're soulmates, you're meant to be. The feeling you get once your lips touch is unlike any you've ever felt before, it was like you were connected, like you could feel his emotions and he could feel yours in that moment. Everything was amplified.

"My lucky charm." Charles says once he pulls back and places his forehead on yours.

"Good thing you're stuck with me then." You say breathless and smile, Charles returns the smile, another kiss and he's pulled away from you for the weighting, interviews and then the podiums, before more interviews and ending with debrief.

Main Taglist:

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house . @lottalove4evelyn . 

[opluffys]

-

-

-nsfw/smut-

face buried deep into the pillow, all of your sounds muffled by the material, you dared to utter a simple and incomplete sentence.

"s'too much,"

either he ignored you, or didn't hear you- honestly, you had no clue, but it was probably the former. you lost track of time as he continued to bully his cock into your cunt. and, you couldn't do it, you couldn't take him because he's always so fucking big.

"yeah? and you'll keep takin' it all."

he's so fucking mean it's not even fair, you can't even complain because he's filling all of your senses with white hot pleasure. your brain began to turn to mush as his dick stretched out your pussy, hands fisting into the sheets as you pressed yourself deeper into the pillow. his pillow. it smells like him, fuck, he's everywhere and you can't handle it.

ghost's fucking you well-past tears, past the point of begging, he's stressed- and what else could you do but offer yourself to him? you'd been more than happy that he agreed to such a thing, nearly pushing you into the bedroom.

you can't take back a gift, though.

"not gonna fit, simon," you whimpered, barely even able to catch your breath as you whispered to him, tears dampening the pillowcase.

he shushed you by pushing your head back into the mattress. his hands grasp at the fat of your hips now harder as he continued to feed his cock into you, his being mesmerised as he watched your smaller body desperately try and accommodate his size and girth. he had gentler moments, but he knew that you liked it rough, liked him, rough.

"i'll fucking make it fit." to emphasise his words, he gave a particularly rough thrust, finally allowing himself to bottom out inside of your warmth. he groaned lowly at feeling you squeeze him with a vice-like grip, hearing you give a weak moan back to him.

"see? see, love?" he snuck his hand underneath you and pressed down on your stomach, hearing and watching you gasp and twitch. "there we go, can feel me right there, can't you?"

you wanted to tell him yes, to affirm every single thing he would say to you. but you couldn't. all you could do was rock back and forth from the harsh movements that he performed. so, you settled with a nod.

"simon-" again, you tried to tell him that it his size was filling you to the fucking brim, making you see stars, making you feel so good, too good. it was red hot, you could feel every single prominent vein drag against your soft and wet walls before he slammed back into you- obscene and lewd noises filling the room. you wanted to cry, sob and ask him how he always fucked you so good, how he knew every single place to touch you and every single place to avoid.

"shh, just, fuckin' take me, yeah?"

yeah, he didn't need to tell you again.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hi! I don't know if you do requests (idk if this is considered one) but I was wondering if you could continue the story of "Alfred's Boy" it left off at a hilarious time. I really want to know what happens next! 💖💖💖💖

Bruce admits he's a little nervous about how the opera goes. He had only meant to distract Wes and Danny, but thanks to Jason, almost all his children had demanded seats, too.

Thankfully, his contacts got him the biggest box set to accommodate them all. He wished he hadn't made the excuse of having plans already because then he could have gone with them. As it were, he only caught a glimpse of them strutting into the front entrance dressed in their best outfits.

Bruce thought they were practicing for the runway with the way they attempted to show off for Danny. It would have been adorable had it not been for the fact that Danny was much more focused on how excited Wes seemed to be as the other boy gawked at the gothic structure of the opera house.

It checked off another box on the "secret boyfriend" list, as Danny seemed unable to refuse Wes' demands. He posed in front of everything for a photo. Tim, in particular, was seething as Wes moved Danny into his desired poses, using, of all things, his camera phone.

"That's an insult to the art," Tim hissed, readjusting his suit jacket, when Wes fell to his knees so he could get a lower shot of a blushing Danny sitting by Gotham's Oprea sign. "He's not even adjusting the lighting settings!"

"Chum-" Bruce started only to have Damian cut him off.

"Would be a shame if Weston were to fall off the cliff while he was distracting photographing, my beloved."

"Danny is not yours, but you're right. It would be a shame," Tim smirked, inching towards the pair. Bruce yanked the two back by their collars, shaking them like misbehaving cats.

"No."

"But Father-"

"No."

Thankfully, Jason and Dick were able to ensure nothing happened to Wes. In fact, his eldest had convinced all the children to pose for Wes and even got the boy in a few of the shots. Danny seemed to be glowing.

Once the show started, Bruce decided that it would be perfect if he had a nice, long, bubbly bath. He has been stressed more than usual this weekend, so he would delay his patrol for maybe an hour so he could enjoy some nice classical music and have some chocolate.

He even stopped by that little boutique that would have the best bath bombs. The clerk made them locally, and he has yet to find ones that made his skin shine as bright as hers.

Not to mention, her Lavander mint mix was to die for. Even Alford enjoyed using one occasionally, which was highly praised. His butler was very peculiar when it came to mint-scented things.

With basket in hand, Bruce browsed the various scents of the bath bombs. He figured he could get the children some, too. They all had some aches and pains from years of vigilante fighting that a nice warm bath could help soothe.

He even selected a sample package that contained five various bath bombs for Wes and Danny to try out. He may not have known which scenes they liked the most, but he didn't want to make them feel excluded.

Bruce's phone dings as he debates getting three sample packages so the boys can try them all. Pulling it out, he makes the executive decision to do so, throwing two of the three in his basket.

It's a message from Cass.

It was odd that his daughter would text while the show was going on. She normally waits until after to use her phone as a performer herself. Fearing something had gone wrong, he clicked open the messaging app, already feeling a sense of dread.

Goodbye, sense of peace from a single father trying his best.

She sent a photo of herself and her siblings in their seats. Cass has it angled to look like a selfie, but while smiling wide at the camera in her outstretched hand behind her head, all of her siblings are facing somewhere else.

Steph, Tim, Damian, and Duke are glaring at the end of the aisle, where Wes is sitting next to Jason, and Danny is sitting on the wall on his other side. Both boys are flustered, leaning towards Jason, who is pointing out of the seat box—presumingly to the stage.

Dick is a buffer between Jason and the guest, reading the program with a content smile and casually pressing his hand into Duke's chest, pushing him away.

Cass captioned the photo with, "Family is sometimes me, my younger siblings, and the one twink they are in love with. Dick, Jason, and Wes are mere decorations."

Bruce sighs, adding a box of large, expensive chocolates to his basket. He's going to need them tonight.

He gives the counter girl a smile, even as she seemed generally surprised he was willing to buy half the merchandise in the spa section. The billionaire races home to have his long hot bath, amused to learn Alfred has the same thought.

They get crazy and even order pizza since the kids aren't home.

Hours later, Batman is on regular patrol, jumping through the city and stopping petty crimes. He swings by the opera house just in time to see Alfred pull up at the entrance to pick the kids up.

Wes is gushing to Danny again, holding his hand and gesturing with the other. His other children seemed rather peeved that they couldn't get any of Danny's attention while Jason, Dick, and Cass were busy eating ice cream cones.

Where did they even get that ice cream?

Suddenly, Wes looks around before he makes direct eye contact with Bruce through the binoculars. There is a hard look in his eye before Danny leans in to whisper into his ear. At once, Wes' face clears, and he cheerfully waves at Bruce.

He is miles away from them. How did the boy notice?

Something is not quite right with Alfred's guests.

[qtboni]

Hey there! ☺️ I've been loving your writing lately and wanted to make a request for a new piece. What about writing about Soldier!Reader and König falling asleep on each other on their way back to base after a mission? I think it would be a sweet moment of intimacy after all the dangers and stress they've been through together. No pressure though, just thought I'd throw it out there! :)

HI, LOVIE! thanks for this request,, this was undeniably the cutest thing I have ever written!! i used gtranslate for the german phrases cz idk any german huhu. anyw, i hope u wd love this, anon <//3

PAIRING: König X Gn!Reader

OVERVIEW: König letting you rest on his shoulder, and him also resting on top of your head <//3

C/W: Everything is fluff.

As you sat in the back of the military vehicle, you felt your shoulders droop as you fought to stay awake. Your mind was fogged from fatigue, and every minute felt like an eternity.

But as your eyes began to flutter closed, you made one last effort, shifting slightly in your seat to avoid dozing off.

You and your team had just completed a long and arduous mission, and you all were tired and eager to get back to base. You looked over at König who was seated next to you in the military vehicle. He looked just as exhausted as you felt, his face lined with the strain of the past few hours.

König, watching over you as he always did on missions, noticed the tell-tale signs of you about to fall asleep. Instead of calling you out, however, he silently watched with concern.

He knew how grueling the mission had been, and he did not want to see you hurt yourself by staying up any longer.

As you continued to struggle to keep your eyes open, your focus began to slip, your head slowly drooping. You didn't even realize it, but eventually your head came to rest on König's shoulder, your breathing growing more and more steady with each passing moment.

König noticed the change in your demeanor immediately, and he watched your face as it relaxed into a peaceful slumber. He knew your exhaustion well, and he saw it as a sign that you had finally reached your limit.

His rough, low voice was warm and comforting as he whispered words to you so softly that you almost didn't catch it, but you felt their meaning deep in your heart.

"Ich bin so stolz auf dich," he murmured, his voice low and steady, "Du bist so mutig und stark."

His whispers continued as you slept, caressing your right arm gently as he does so. "Ich liebe dich..." he murmured softly, sounding almost hesitant. "Du bist meine Welt, meine Liebe."

König knows that you would not be able to understand them, so he lets himself freely express his love and care for you in his mother tongue.

König then adjusted his seat to accommodate you and let you rest against him. Nevertheless, you still slept soundly in his right shoulder, the warmth of his body providing a sense of comfort and security that you desperately needed.

A few hours later, you awoke to the sound of König's snores. He had leaned his head on top of yours, and the sound of his breathing was rhythmic and soothing. Despite the uncomfortable position, you felt a sense of calm wash over you, and you drifted off once more.

As the hours passed, the warmth of his body seept into yours, and your consciousness began to fade. You were lost in a dreamless, restful sleep, feeling safe and protected by his presence.

Finally, the sun began to set, and the military vehicle came to a stop outside the base. You stirred from your slumber, feeling refreshed and ready to face whatever might come next. You opened your eyes to find König still sound asleep, his head resting on top of yours.

You sighed softly, trying not to disturb him. You carefully shifted your position and leaned over to whisper in his ear, "König... Wake up."

He stirred slightly, cracking open one eye to look at you. "Gott sei Dank..." His voice was low and hoarse from exhaustion, but there was a smile in his eyes. "I'll never complain about a nap again."

You giggled quietly, feeling a sudden surge of affection for him. "You'll never complain about anything again," you murmured, reaching up to prepare your stuff and fix your vest.

"Ja," König replied, his eyes gentle as ever as he looked at you. "Thanks for your shoulder, schatz. Sorry for if ever, um, it was uncomfortable."

"Oh?" You smiled softly at him.

"You know, given by your smaller than me, maus."

"Well," you chucked as you leaned over at him once more. "It was actually one of the best and comfortable sleep I have ever encountered in this.. kind of scenario."

König felt a warm sensation sweep over his cheeks as he blushed, clearing his throat nervously. "Is that so? Well, I'm glad."

"Actually, I should have been the one thank you. So, thanks. I really needed that nap." You patted his shoulder, where you previously had slept on.

König felt a nervous jolt run through his body as he realized his blush must have been noticed, even with the mask on, when your smile seems to expand more cheekily.

He doesn't trust his words, fear striking in him if he's going to let out stuttering phrases. So, he instead nodded at you, averting his gaze once again.

You knew that there were plenty of things he couldn't express with his mask on, but you could still tell that he appreciated your gesture. And you were glad to have been there for him, just as he had been there for you.

[chvoswxtch]

hi um so this is like my first time making a request, like ever. I’m not even sure if this is where I’m supposed to put a request. So I’m really nervous but this idea has been in my head for weeks and I need it to be brought to life? Idk but can I request Matt Murdock with a sort of shy reader? Where he tells her about his abilities and daredevil and everything (established relationship) and she doesn’t really care as long as he’s safe but she has something in her mind and he notices and keeps asking and basically she has a question about his senses, specifically his taste and idk if you know but Matt can canonically know ALL of the ingredients of anything just from a taste and she basically wants to make him taste a bunch of stuff and tell her the ingredients of it so she can make them? I know this is probably WAY too specific so feel free to completely ignore this, I just wanted to get it out.

hi my darling!

so I actually read this request right before going to the grocery store, and while I was looking through produce, it made me think about how matt would absolutely know which produce was the freshest and which ones to avoid. I kinda mixed that in with your idea about being able to tell exactly what ingredients were in something, and I hope this is close to what you were looking for! <3

warnings: tooth rotting fluff and matt being a lil shit word count: 1.3k

lemons.

“Not that one.”

You hand instantly stilled over a lemon that your fingertips had already grazed over. Glancing at Matt over your shoulder, a crease formed between your brows while you looked back down at it.

“What do you mean? This one is perfect-”

“It’s not ripe enough.”

“But…it’s so yellow, like sunshine yellow.”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Matt’s lips when he felt the way your own pursed into a bit of a confused pout. It was something you always did when you were intensely focused on something, and he found it endearing. Reaching his hand out, he used the pad of his thumb to smooth away the furrow that had creased in the middle of your forehead, and his soft smile curled up into a light smirk catching the flush of heat that immediately coursed through the tops of your cheeks.

“Well, I’m sure it’s a very pretty lemon, but it doesn’t taste ripe.”

Ever since Matt had told you the truth about his vigilante identity and his abilities, you’d had countless questions. You wouldn’t voice them at first, almost as if you were afraid to cross some invisible boundary that Matt might have, but he knew you, and he knew how to dismantle that shy exterior of yours. From the moment the two of you first met, you had been overly polite and accommodating about his disability, but not in a way that made him uncomfortable. You didn’t walk on eggshells around him or call any extra attention to his blindness. In fact, the way you interacted with him was so seamless, it was almost like it came second nature.

If you guys were grabbing coffee with Karen and Foggy, you would automatically place the raw sugar packets within his reach because you knew he preferred it to the artificial sweeteners. If the four of you went to check out a new lunch spot, you always called ahead to check if they had a menu in braille and made sure Matt was given one. There were so many little things you did to make him feel included and normal. It was part of why he fell so hard for you.

You never asked about the origin of his blindness, and even after he opened up and told you about his accident, you were reserved with your questions. He could tell you were curious, and he wanted you to ask. He wanted you to know things about him. You were a bit of a wallflower, and Matt could always feel you silently observing him, but he wanted you to understand him. He quickly realized he would have to flat out grant you permission to be nosey, and so he did.

Out of everyone he had revealed his Daredevil secret to, you had taken it the best. He didn’t know if he would ever get over the surprise of just how well you handled it. You didn’t get angry or yell at him. You didn’t call him a liar or a traitor, or ask him if he was faking his blindness; all reactions he expected. You just sat there in pure confusion, and you were silent for so long, Matt was panicked that he’d sent you into a state of shock. When it finally settled in that it wasn’t a joke, your brows knit together, and Matt could feel the way your face contorted into an expression of irritation when you flat out asked him if he was crazy. The memory of that night never failed to make him smile.

“Um…well, I mean…not in the traditional sense-”

“Matthew, what the hell are you thinking running around on rooftops, going after guys with guns and knives with…sticks? How do you even do that?”

“They’re batons, actually. Look it’s hard to explain, but I have heightened senses that help me-”

“Are those super senses going to keep you out of prison? Because that’s where you’re going if you get caught. What was the point of going hundreds of thousands of dollars into debt for law school if you were just going to wind up a prison cell for doing backflips off buildings in your underwear?”

“Heightened senses. And it’s not underwear. Underwear is comfortable.”

There hadn’t been a hint of anger in your voice. Annoyance, sure, but mainly concern. All you wanted was for Matt to be safe, and he did his best to assure you that he would be. Matt went into as much detail as he could to help you understand his abilities, and the more comfortable you got with asking him things, the more you learned.

Like how he could tell exactly what ingredients were in the lemon bread at the cafe down the street from your apartment that you loved so much, which was currently the reason behind your little trip to the store at the moment. All it took was one bite of the bread, and he knew exactly how to replicate it.

Apparently he could also tell when lemons were at their peak.

Reaching into the pile of lemons, Matt grasped the one that was in perfect condition to him and held it out towards you. Taking the lemon in your hand, you gave it a light squeeze, noticing that it was firm to the touch but easily gave into the gentle force of your fingers testing its density. 

“Feel the rind.”

Following Matt’s instructions, you brushed your thumb along the bright yellow rind. It was smooth to the touch, and somewhat glossy as it nearly reflected the brightness of the overhead lighting in the grocery store. 

“It’s shiny.”

Matt chuckled at your response and lightly nodded his chin in your direction.

“What else?”

“It’s smooth.”

“It’s perfectly ripe. The zest on this one is the freshest. It has the most flavor, and the right amount of juice.”

Arching one of your brows, you stared up at Matt curiously while still faintly squeezing the lemon in your hand.

“You can tell how much juice is in this just by touching it?”

A grin stretched across Matt’s lips, showcasing his dazzling teeth and causing indents to appear in his cheeks. His thick brows rose slightly above the rim of his crimson glasses.

“Are you doubting me, sweetheart?”

“No I’m just…still trying to figure out how you do…what you do.”

A bashful twinge of heat coated your cheeks once again, and Matt thought it was adorable that you diverted your attention back to the lemon shyly to avoid his gaze even though he couldn’t see your reaction. He reached out to tenderly brush his knuckles along the warmth in your cheeks while he smiled in your direction. 

“I’ll try to do better at explaining. Now c’mon, we have more ingredients to get. You know, I think this bread is gonna turn out so well, the one at the cafe might not meet your standards anymore.”

The confidence in Matt’s voice caught your attention, and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips. Sometimes you forgot that your boyfriend was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen that everyone was so afraid of. If only they knew that he spent his Saturdays sniffing out ingredients at the grocery store like a bloodhound to help his girlfriend recreate the recipe for her favorite lemon bread.

“You know, if you didn’t love law so much, you could’ve made out like a bandit in a baking competition.”

“Oh I would’ve won with my sob story of being a blind little Catholic orphan alone.”

“Matthew!”

Matt snickered at the disbelief in your tone, but he could also detect the way the edges of your lips twitched, like you weren’t sure if you should laugh at that or not. Snaking his arm around your waist, he pressed a light kiss to your forehead and gently nudged you in the direction towards the spice aisle.

“Come on, we need flour.”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover  @avengerstower-houseplant @mars-rants-a-lot @topperthornton @hailey-murdock @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @vane28282 @kmc1989 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts

[scary-grace]

the crying game - a shigaraki x f!reader oneshot

You gave up on love a long time ago, but you keep getting invited to weddings, and after eleven receptions spent at the single's table, you're almost at the end of your rope -- until first-time wedding guest Shigaraki Tomura asks you to show him how it's done. (5.7k words, modern AU, no quirks.)

This fic is for @arslansenkai, who saw my milestone post and requested the prompts ‘holding hands’ + ‘listening to the other’s heartbeat’ + ‘whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin’ from this list. Thank you so much for the prompt! I really enjoyed writing it and I swear all three of your prompts made it in here or there.

You hate weddings. You don’t remember when you started hating them, but you know why you started – right around the time when you realized that you’d never have another one of your own, that you’d always be attending someone else’s, and doing that all by yourself, too. Add in the cost of a new dress and new shoes (God forbid you wear the same thing twice in one year) and travel accommodations and a wedding present, and weddings become a big, expensive, depressing waste of a weekend. No matter how much you like the people who are getting married.

And you do like them, this time, even though they’re the twelfth couple from your department at Ultra, Inc. to get married in the last three years. Ochako and Himiko are the kind of couple who shouldn’t make sense, but somehow do – the kind of against-all-odds couple who’d make you believe in love if you didn’t know better. You were rooting for them, you’re glad they’re together, and getting their save-the-date still made you want to drown yourself in the toilet. You opted to drown in vodka instead. You need help.

You need help, and you’re going to get it. After this wedding. So you can figure out how to say no the next time you get an invite. Because out of all the indignities about going single to a wedding, getting stuck at the same table at the wedding reception as the other people who couldn’t snare a date is possibly the worst.

Most couples have at least a few single friends, but Himiko and Ochako are the last of their respective circles to couple up. Or almost-last. The singles table at their wedding included exactly five people at the start of the reception. You, an older woman named Magne, a guy your age whose place-card says Todoroki Touya but insisted that he goes by Dabi, another guy your age whose place-card says Takami Keigo but insisted you call him Hawks, and one more guy your age whose place-card says Shigaraki Tomura and who barely looked up when you introduced yourself.

It wasn’t the worst singles table you’d ever sat at, at the start. Then Magne bailed to sit with somebody she knew at a different table, and Dabi and Hawks hit it off and then snuck off to God knows where, and then it was just you and Shigaraki sitting at your table in the far back corner of the reception hall. That’s how it’s been for an hour, and the only interaction the two of you have had is when you’ve passed the table’s bottle of champagne back and forth, filling your glasses and then draining them out of sync. It’s depressing. After going to eleven weddings in two years, you can hang in there with the best of them, but you’re pretty sure you’re about to crack.

Your glass is empty, and when you reach for the bottle, you find that it’s empty, too. You want to get more, but you’re not going to look like a lush in front of your weird tablemate. “Hey,” you say, and Shigaraki looks up from the screen of his Switch. “This is empty. I’ll go get more if you want it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Shigaraki says. You raise your eyebrows. “This will suck just as bad whether I’m wasted or not.”

“Yeah,” you admit. “But then you’ll be able to pretend it sucks because you’re wasted, not because you’re stuck at the singles table yet again.”

“Yet again? Sounds like you’re projecting,” Shigaraki says. You shrug. It would hurt more if you hadn’t heard the same thing from at least one person at the last three weddings you went to – usually towards the end of the reception, usually when everybody’s getting weepy and ridiculous. You’re ahead of schedule this time. “Sure. I’ll take more.”

Two tables over, a group of happy couples have abandoned their champagne bucket in favor of the dance floor – or the photo booth, or something. You swap your empty bottle for their full one and come back over, hoping Shigaraki will have gone back to his game and forgotten you existed. No such luck. He’s sitting up, watching you, as you sit down, fill your glass, and slide the bottle back across the table to Shigaraki. “Yet again,” he repeats. You down half your glass in a single swallow. “I’m only halfway through the first one of these stupid things I’ve been to and I’m already done. How many times have you put yourself through it?”

“Eleven,” you say. Shigaraki’s red eyes widen. “No, that’s just people from work. If I count friends from school, it’s, uh – sixteen.”

“If you’re this miserable, stop going.”

“Is that what you do?” you challenge. “When your friends invite you to celebrate the happiest day of their lives, you just don’t go?”

“My friends know better than to invite me to shit like this.” Shigaraki copies you and drains half his glass in one go. “I wouldn’t have come to this one, except Toga critical-hit me with this guilt trip about how we’re her family and she needs her family to be here –”

You did notice a conspicuous lack of parents or relatives on Toga’s side of the aisle. “And I said I’d go if I didn’t have to go alone,” Shigaraki continues. “Dabi was supposed to be doing time with me. Figures he’d score a hookup and bolt.”

“I didn’t know you knew each other,” you say. They barely talked when Dabi was sitting here. “How do you know Himiko?”

“Juvie,” Shigaraki says, and you’re not sober enough to keep the surprise from showing all over your face. He snickers. “Not what you expected?”

You shake your head. “Is that where you know Dabi from?”

“And Spinner,” Shigaraki says, pointing out a purple-haired guy at a different table. “And Twice. Magne was a peer counselor or something. If I hadn’t met them I probably would have killed myself in there.”

You can’t stop your surprise from showing this time, either. Shigaraki grimaces. “Don’t read into that.”

“No promises,” you say. Shigaraki snorts and lifts his glass partway, then drains it. “So you’ve known each other for a while.”

“Yeah. I’m guessing you’re friends with the girlfriend. Wife.” Shigaraki refills his glass again, but leaves it alone for the time being. “How long have you known her?”

“Work,” you say, then facepalm. You’re lucky you manage to do it with the hand not holding your glass of champagne. “Two years or so. I already worked there when she was hired. I kind of watched the whole thing with Himiko from the sidelines.”

That’s how you always watch relationships play out at work, or anywhere, really. Pretending to be happy, really being happy, and still feeling like you’re pulling a tarp over the sinkhole in your chest. “So the wife invited you and you showed up even though you knew you’d hate it,” Shigaraki concludes. “You’re crazier than me. I’m never going to another one of these things again.”

“Not even your own?”

“Do I look like the kind of person somebody marries?” Shigaraki finishes his whole glass in a single swallow. You were thinking about trying to keep up with him, but if you try that, you’ll throw up all over the dress you had to buy, which is probably dry-clean only or something worse. “I don’t get why anyone goes to these things.”

“They’re supposed to be fun,” you say. You feel bad picking on Ochako’s wedding. It’s not Ochako’s fault that you’re single, bitter about it, and this close to drunk on alcohol she paid for. “But they’re usually only fun if you go with someone.”

“I went with somebody. He ditched me to hook up with a guy who named himself after a bird.”

You snicker at that. “I meant a date,” you clarify. “If your date ditches you to hook up, then you’ve got bigger problems than whether you’re having fun at a wedding.”

“He’s not my date. I’m not gay.” Shigaraki looks up. “Did you think I was gay?”

“I really didn’t – think,” you admit. You didn’t come to the wedding looking for a hookup. If you had, you’d have tried to put a move on Hawks before Dabi could. “The activities are more fun with a date.”

“Activities?” Shigaraki asks. “Like games?”

“Uh, sometimes,” you say. You know Ochako set up lawn games outside, and the sun won’t set for a while. “Sometimes there’s an art project you’re supposed to do for the couple, as a keepsake or something. I went to one last year where you were supposed to write a good wish, fold it into a paper crane, and then hang it off a branch of this tree they’d bought.”

“Too much work. What else?”

“Dancing,” you say, although you felt like that was pretty obvious. “And Himiko and Ochako have a photo booth.”

Shigaraki’s nose wrinkles. “Why?”

“As a keepsake for the guests, I guess,” you say. “Again. More of a couple thing.”

“Huh.” Shigaraki pours half a glass this time but still finishes it in one swallow. Then he stands up. “Let’s do it.”

You freeze in the act of pouring yourself another glass. “What?”

“I’m never coming to another wedding. You’re bored and drunk –”

“I’m not the one who’s been treating glasses like shots.”

“So let’s do it,” Shigaraki says, like you didn’t say a word. “If this is the last one I go to, I want to get my money’s worth. Do you have something better to do?”

You were this close to taking out your phone and opening up Tinder. You shake your head. “Finish that,” Shigaraki says, and you finish the half-glass you just poured and get to your feet. “Where’s the stupid photo booth?”

You lead the way. Even in heels, you’re faster than Shigaraki – he’s meandering a little bit, possibly due to all the champagne. You reach out and grab his hand to pull him back on course. He jumps, stumbles into an empty table, and glares at you. “What are you doing?”

“You wanted the wedding date experience. Holding hands is included.” At least you think it should be. If you had a real date you’d want to hold hands with them. Shigaraki follows you a little more closely than before as you make your way up to the photo booth. “It looks like they have props. Should we use them?”

Shigaraki hasn’t let go of your hand. He picks up a fake mustache on a stick. “Who would use this?”

“Me, maybe?” If you had a wedding date, you’d want to be spontaneous and fun. You lift it out of his hand and hold it up to your face. “What do you think?”

“No.” Shigaraki takes it away, puts it back, and picks up a flower crown. “Here.”

“No, that’s for you,” you say. Shigaraki argues, but you pluck it out of his hand and settle it on his head anyway. “See? It looks great.”

“If Dabi sees me wearing this stupid thing –”

“He’ll be jealous,” you say. The crown would look stupid on Dabi’s spiky black hair, but the pastel shades of the flowers look nice with Shigaraki’s blue-grey hair. “Okay. Now you can pick one for me. I’ll even do the mustache.”

“No,” Shigaraki says again. He sorts through the props and comes up with a headband with bunny ears. “This one.”

You two are going to look ridiculous. It’s hard not to laugh, and you haven’t even seen the full effect yet. You put on the headband, thankful that you went for a low-effort hairstyle that’s easy to fix, then pull the curtain on the photo booth and wedge yourself into it. Shigaraki follows you in.

It’s a really tight fit. You were pretty sure the photo booth was a couple activity, but now you’re sure – you love your friends, but you wouldn’t want to end up most of the way into any of their laps. You have to stop holding hands to try to get situated, and while you’re still trying to figure yourselves out, the photo booth takes the first picture. Shigaraki grimaces. “Wait. That probably looked stupid. Where –”

The booth takes the second picture while he’s talking, and you snort. There’s about a ten-second interval to get positioned correctly. You manage to face front in time, but your elbow lands on Shigaraki’s thigh as you’re trying to steady yourself, and he flinches away. You drop out of the frame as the booth snaps the third photo, and it occurs to you that the only part of you visible in the picture will be the bunny ears. Based on the location of the ears in relation to Shigaraki’s body, it’s going to look pretty compromising. You hope no one sees that picture. Ever.

Shigaraki’s snickering as you sit up. “Nice one. I want a copy of – hey!”

You’ve elbowed him on purpose this time, just in time for the fourth photo. The fifth photo’s probably going to be blurry. You’re both lightly shoving each other, trying to get each other out of your personal space without pushing either of you out of the photo booth itself. The sixth photo’s probably the only one that’s worth anything, and it won’t be very good, either – Shigaraki’s flower crown is off-kilter, and you’re pretty sure your headband’s falling off. The printer begins to whir, and the two of you sit in silence as the booth prints out two sets of photos. You pick one up. Shigaraki takes the other. A second later, you’re both laughing.

The photos look even worse than you thought, and somehow that makes them better. The photo where it’s just your ears in the frame features Shigaraki staring down into his lap, looking all kinds of startled, while the photo where you’re pushing each other is blurry enough to be a still from a found-footage horror movie. In your opinion, the first photo is the funniest. “We look like that meme with the cat,” you wheeze. “The one with the loading circle over its head.”

“The last one looks like a mug shot,” Shigaraki says, his laughter so raspy that it borders on a witch’s cackle. “After a bar fight –”

The idea of getting in a bar fight in your wedding outfit sets you off. You slump sideways at an angle and end up with your head against his chest for a few seconds, surprised that you can hear his heartbeat and surprised at how fast it’s beating. “Which of us won?”

“We both lost,” Shigaraki says, and you laugh harder. The two of you look disheveled as hell, and not from anything fun. “Number two is the worst one. You look good and I look like a dumbass.”

“You just had your mouth open,” you say, wiping your eyes. You’re probably smearing your makeup, but who gives a shit. You didn’t do that good of a job on it anyway. “Anyway, that’s the wedding photo booth experience. What do you think?”

“I want to go again,” Shigaraki says. This time, you manage to turn to stare at him without throwing any elbows. “For good ones. No way do people’s girlfriends let them leave with just the stupid ones.”

You would, but then again, there’s not a big enough difference between how you look in bad photos and how you look in good ones for it to matter. “We can do one more,” you agree. “Let’s lose the props.”

Without the flower crown and bunny ears, the silliness factor drops significantly. Now you look less like a couple of drunk clowns pretending to be a couple and more like two people who could actually be together. It weirds you out, but you promised the whole wedding date experience. In the seconds before the first flash goes off, you tilt your head onto Shigaraki’s shoulder.

Shigaraki startles, and as soon as the flash goes off, he pushes you away – but only so he can tilt sideways. He’s taller than you, enough so his cheek rests against the top of your head. Four photos left. When you glances over at Shigaraki, you see that his tie’s crooked, so you fix it for him, burning another photo in the bargain. The fourth photo is Shigaraki shifting the neckline of your dress to cover your bra strap, which is weird but plausible for a couple’s photo booth experience. He has a birthmark just below the right corner of his mouth. You aim for it when you kiss his cheek quickly for the fifth photo.

Shigaraki startles again, and you sit back – but not too far. You’re still close enough that Shigaraki only has to lean forward a few inches for his lips to meet yours.

You weren’t planning to kiss him. It’s not much of a kiss, and it doesn’t last long, but your heart is still racing as the booth spits out your second sheet of photos. You’re almost scared to look. Shigaraki’s hesitant, too, and when you both flip the sheets over to check, he says exactly what you’re thinking. “Shit.”

The first set of photos were a joke. The second set – either you and Shigaraki are really good actors or you’re both really drunk, because they look way too plausible for comfort. The ones where you’re fussing over each other’s clothes are probably the worst offenders on that front, but you’re most alarmed by the last two. You’re smiling as you kiss his cheek. You can see the corner of your mouth turned up. And you didn’t see where Shigaraki’s hand was when he kissed you, but the photo’s preserved the evidence. It’s right by the side of your face, curved like he wants to cradle your jaw in his hand.

Exactly sixty seconds ago, the two of you were screwing around in here. Now it feels like there’s static running back and forth between you, and you scramble out of the booth in a hurry, almost tripping over your feet. Shigaraki gets out, too, leaning against the booth to steady himself. Without a word, he takes both of your sets of photos and tucks them into his suit jacket along with his sets, then fills your suddenly-empty hand with his own. “Now what?”

The static shock is between your hands now. “My hand is humming,” you say, like an idiot, and Shigaraki tightens his grip. “Um, I think there are some games outside.”

“Fine.”

It’s warm outside, but getting cooler as the sun begins to set. There are a lot of games, and most of them are being ignored in favor of a bunch of the goofiest guys from your office playing cornhole while their girlfriends/boyfriends watch. You determine instantly that you’re not coordinated enough for anything that involves throwing something, which leaves you exactly one option. “How about that one?”

“Jenga?”

“Jenga XL,” you say. Shigaraki snorts. “My hand-eye coordination’s too bad right now for a throwing game. This will be safer.”

Whoever was playing the oversized Jenga last left the blocks in a heap. You and Shigaraki can’t hold hands while you stack them up, and as you do, your assumption that Jenga would be safer than something else gets tested in the most embarrassing way possible – and of course Shigaraki points it out. “You’re short. If this thing falls on you it’ll flatten you.”

“It won’t fall,” you say with more confidence than you feel. “I’m good at this.”

“Go first, then, if you’re so good at it.”

You get a block out without trouble, but you have to rely on Shigaraki to re-stack it for you, which he does, wearing a really frustrating smirk. “You should have worn taller shoes.”

“I can’t walk in taller shoes,” you say. “Or dance. Are you going to want to dance?”

“If it’s part of the wedding date experience, yeah.” Shigaraki carefully extracts his block and sets it on top of the tower. He’s not all that much taller than you. If the game goes on long enough, he’ll have trouble re-stacking. “They don’t exactly teach dance classes in juvie.”

“It’s not that kind of dancing,” you say. Shigaraki looks relieved. “If it’s going to be that kind of dancing, they warn you on the invitation. A friend of mine who got married last year only played swing music at her reception. She sent out a certificate for free lessons with her save-the-date.”

“Control issues?”

“I think she just wanted stuff her way,” you say. You ease another block out of the tower and hand it over to Shigaraki. “Hers was nice. Everything ran on time, and she sent out thank-you notes six weeks after the wedding.”

Shigaraki stacks your block, then pulls out one of his own. You realize with a jolt that he’s missing the index and middle fingers from his left hand. “What’s the worst one you’ve ever been to?”

“Um.” You don’t want to say this. You really don’t – but you drank too much, and you should be honest. “Mine.”

“You’re married?”

“Divorced,” you say. “Three months after the wedding. I didn’t have the ring on long enough to get a tan line.”

Shigaraki doesn’t say anything. The tower is getting unstable, so you’re careful as you wiggle out one of the side blocks on a row about halfway up. You keep an eye on Shigaraki’s shadow as you do it, bracing yourself for him to walk away. Would you walk away if he told you he was divorced? No, but you’re divorced, so it matters less to you. “Three months,” Shigaraki repeats. “How’d that happen?”

“You’re lucky you aren’t asking me that six years ago,” you say. “With how much I drank tonight, I’d have gone off.”

“Go off. I want to hear it.” Shigaraki actually looks interested. “Anyone who fucks this up deserves it.”

He’s gestures at you. You don’t know what to make of that, and you’ve got a block halfway out of the tower. You go back to work on it. “How do you know it wasn’t me?”

“I know,” Shigaraki says. “How’d it happen?”

“This is pathetic,” you warn. Shigaraki gestures for you to go on. You sigh. “We were together since high school. Midway through college I got a bad feeling that we were drifting apart and I couldn’t take the suspense, so I tried to end it. And he popped the question. We got married six months later and three months after that he knocked up my cousin.”

“Damn,” Shigaraki remarks.

“They’re still together,” you say. “The kid’s in primary school this year. And every year around the holidays my aunt and my cousin pick a fight with me about how I need to be nicer to him, because we’re all a family now.”

You finally manage to extract the block, and Shigaraki takes it from you before you can offer it to him. You can’t read his expression, and just like when you sensed things with your ex were falling apart, you can’t take the suspense. “Pathetic?” you prompt.

“Your ex is a loser.”

“You haven’t seen what my cousin looks like.”

“He’s still a loser,” Shigaraki says. He pulls out a block. “I get it, though.”

Your stomach clenches. “What do you mean?”

“If my girlfriend was leaving me because I was dicking around, I might do something like that, too.” Shigaraki sets his block on top of the tower. Your options for blocks to pull are getting slimmer by the turn. “Popping the question. Not knocking up your cousin.”

“I have other cousins,” you say. Shigaraki snorts. “I thought you said you weren’t getting married.”

“I said nobody was going to marry me,” Shigaraki corrects. What’s the difference? “Your turn.”

You’re out of blocks at shoulder height. And chest height. And waist height. You crouch down instead, doing your best to balance in your heels, and start trying to wiggle a block loose on the fourth level up from the ground. Shigaraki’s voice follows you down. “If you were ready to ditch him, why did you say yes?”

Now you’re at a real risk of crying. Six years of intermittent only-when-you’ve-got-the-money counseling hasn’t made a dent in this one thing. You remind yourself that Shigaraki can’t see your face and work on keeping your voice steady. “I was the one who asked him out in the first place, back in high school. I always had this weird sense that we wouldn’t be together if I hadn’t. So when he proposed I thought it meant he was choosing me, like I chose him. Which was a stupid reason to say yes.”

You wanted to believe. You wanted to believe so badly that you were worth it, and now you’re divorced at twenty-eight, barely talking to the half of your family that took your cousin’s side, going on a grand total of one real date in the entire time since then that you got up and left partway through because you couldn’t fake hope or excitement for one second longer. The kiss you planted on Shigaraki in the photo both was the most action you’ve gotten in two years, and you’ve put more effort into the fake wedding-date experience than you have into even looking for a hookup. You’re pathetic. This is pathetic. You should be embarrassed, and you are.

But you got your stupid block out. You straighten up and hold it out to Shigaraki, who stacks it for you. You can’t read his expression, and you’re a little too dysregulated to be anything but blunt. “That’s my tragic backstory. What’s your damage?”

“What, going to juvie doesn’t count?” Shigaraki crouches down to pull a block from the opposite side of the same row you just weakened. He’s doing it right-handed; he’s waving his left with its missing fingers at you. “This doesn’t count? The fact that I don’t have eyebrows doesn’t count? Your problem is being a dumb kid with a shitty family and a shitty ex. My problem is that I exist. We’re not the same.”

He straightens up and drops his block on top of the tower. You can see that he’s tenser than before, and you can’t think of anything to say that won’t sound patronizing. “I didn’t notice about the eyebrows until you said something.”

“Great.” Shigaraki won’t look at you. “Your turn.”

You crouch down again. The row below the row Shigaraki just knocked down to one block seems like the safest bet. You start pulling at it, frustrated at the way it sticks. “Careful,” Shigaraki says after a second. “If you don’t watch out –”

The tower topples. You’re crouched down, with no chance of getting out of the way in time, and all you can do is sit there, stunned, while three dozen giant Jenga blocks crash down around your head. The corner of one catches your temple, digs in, and you flinch. But the blocks are light. You’re startled, and humiliated, and possibly bleeding a little bit, but you’re fine. “Are you okay?” Shigaraki asks. You give a thumbs-up, and he crouches down next to you. “I don’t believe you. You look – shit, your face is bleeding.”

“I’m good,” you say. “It’s a good thing we took pictures already. This is not part of the wedding-date experience.”

“I’m done with that,” Shigaraki says, and your heart sinks. Even though it shouldn’t. Even though none of this mattered to begin with, even though you know better, you hoped. You weren’t hoping for anything much – just to keep having fun, just to not spend the rest of the wedding alone. “You have a purse, right? Do you have napkins in there or something?”

“Your suit comes with a pocket square.” You pluck it out of his pocket and press it to your temple. “I’ll pay for cleaning it.”

“Don’t bother. It was my dad’s. He doesn’t have much use for it in solitary.”

Shigaraki helps you up while you’re still processing that one and tugs you away from the wreckage of the Jenga tower, onto a bench. The view of the sunset is really good from here. Further down the lawn, you can see Himiko and Ochako and their photographer doing a last round of pictures, and you slide your feet out of your shoes. It’s that point in the wedding. You’ll probably stay here for the rest of the night.

“Do you need ice?” Shigaraki asks. You shake your head. It doesn’t hurt, or maybe the fact that the sinkhole in your chest is eating the tarp you put over it just hurts more. “Do you still want to dance?”

“You said you were done with the wedding date thing.”

“Yeah. I’m done with the part where it’s fake.”

Maybe you hit your head harder than you thought you did. “What do you mean?”

“Seriously?” Shigaraki sounds annoyed. “I let you put a flower crown on me.”

“Is that some kind of mating ritual in juvie?” The instant you say it, you feel bad, but Shigaraki laughs. “If you’re trying to say something, say it. I don’t do very well with ambiguity on my best night and I’m still kind of drunk.”

“Same here. Otherwise I’d sit on this, and my friends would spend the rest of their lives listening to me bitch about how I didn’t ask out the girl from Toga’s wedding.” Shigaraki’s hand lifts from his lap, rises to his neck, then falls back. “I want to dance with you. Toga and her wife are having an after-party at their place, and I want you to come to it with me. And I want your number so we can hang out again sometime when we’re not wasted. Because I like you.”

You must have hit your head really hard. “We met three hours ago.”

“So? Toga said she knew she was going to marry the wife the first time they made eye contact,” Shigaraki says. That sounds like something Himiko would say. You’ve met her a few times at work parties and she’s always struck you as a little intense and a little off-the-wall. “Do you want to dance or not? Make up your mind.”

You want to say yes. What comes out is something really stupid, so stupid that you can’t look at him while you say it. “This is the kind of thing that happens to other people.”

“What, meeting somebody who asks you out?”

It sounds stupid when he says it like that. You keep his dad’s pocket square pressed to your temple and try to explain. “The whole thing where you meet somebody when you weren’t expecting to meet anybody and things click, at least on your end, and since you know it’s just on your end you try not to get your hopes up – but the other person tells you that it clicked for them, too –”

“That’s dumb.” Shigaraki doesn’t sound like he’s being mean. You could almost call it affectionate. “Forget who it happens to. I’m asking you out. Do you –”

Screw it. If this is some kind of hallucination, you want to enjoy it. If it’s real, you don’t want to miss out. You turn back to face Shigaraki. “Yes.”

He grins, and you notice a scar over his mouth, too. “Good. Now what?”

You think about kissing him. You decide to try hugging first, which involves getting at least as close to him as you did when you were in the photo booth, on purpose this time. Shigaraki isn’t particularly tall or bulky, but when you hug him, you’re surprised to notice that he’s hiding some muscle underneath his suit jacket. Kind of a lot of muscle. Huh. Shigaraki notices that you’re investigating a little bit. “What?” he asks, his mouth against your ear. “Did you think all I do is game?”

“I don’t know what you do all day,” you say. “We didn’t get to that part yet.”

“We will.” Shigaraki draws back from you, and you loosen your grip even as his hand rises to cradle your jaw. This time you see the kiss coming from a mile away, and this time, you lean in.

Everything’s different this time, except the thing that startles the two of you apart – the bright flash of a camera going off. “Tomura-kun!” Himiko squeals from somewhere nearby. “I told you you’d have fun at my wedding. Who is that? She’s so cute!”

For a second you’re worried Shigaraki doesn’t know your name, but he must have been paying more attention than you thought he was when you introduced yourself, because he introduces you to Toga without missing a beat. “She’s one of my coworkers,” Ochako explains, smiling at you. Even through the smile you can see the incredulity on her face, and you know you’ll be getting a lot of questions about this when she gets back from her honeymoon. “I’m so sorry we had to put you at that table. I wanted to put you with everybody from work, but they all had plus-ones –”

“It’s fine,” you say faintly. Himiko’s photographer takes another picture, this time of all four of you talking. “It worked out.”

“She’s coming to your party,” Shigaraki informs Himiko. “I invited her.”

“Oh, good!” Himiko turns her attention to you. “It’s going to be so fun! We have games and movies and we’re going to stay up all night.”

“You should come inside now,” Ochako says. “There are mosquitos out here, and we’re supposed to have cake soon –”

“And we’re going to do the Time Warp. I put that on the playlist for you special, Tomura-kun,” Himiko says. She glances at you. “It’s the only dance he knows.”

Shigaraki flushes, grimaces, but you tilt your head against his shoulder again, lacing his fingers with yours for the third time tonight. You don’t know what he does all day when he’s not at weddings he doesn’t want to go to. You don’t know if what he said about his dad being in solitary confinement was a joke or not. You don’t know what happened to his hand or where he got his scars, or even where his eyebrows went. But you know he likes you. You know you like him enough to give things a shot, at least for tonight, and that’s better than you’ve felt in a long time.

And you know he can dance, even if it’s only the Time Warp. For right now, you don’t need to know any more than that.

[artist-issues]

Tell me every reason you enjoy Zootopia enough to give it all the rewatches you do.

Every? Oh boy.

Good Story

Perfect Characters

Visual Appeal

Earnestness

Let me break it down.

1. Good Story

Zootopia’s main point is: “Try to make the world a better place by realizing we’re fundamentally the same.”

That’s a really good main point.

It has the benefit of being true. Right now our culture is super into “self-identification,” and this crazy contrast between, “I want to be able to identify as something special” and “Now that I know what categories I fit in, I can choose who’s ‘one of us’ and who’s ’not one of us.’” Okay well that sounds pretty and I’m sure it fulfills some emotional need at some point, but it’s actually super divisive, and self-serving, and it’s the seeds for all prejudices. Including racism.

Do we have differences in origins and experiences? Yes. Of course. Do we also have some fundamental things in common? Yes. Of course. Which truth are you going to give the highest priority to? If it’s “no, I’m a prey animal, I know exactly where I belong, that’s who I am, that’s how I dress, that’s my compass for how I interact with others” then you’re getting all your security from your “sense of self,” and being able to understand what that is…which is just a fancy way of saying “I’m all about me. My own perspective informs everything I do.”

Anyway. Zootopia’s message was super true.

And the coolest thing about it is that if only Judy were in the wrong, and the other half of the dynamic duo, Nick, was this open-minded, un-prejudiced guy…and she just hurts him and has to apologize…the movie’s message wouldn’t be as well-communicated.

They have their prejudices and their hurt-from-being-prejudiced-against in common!

They’re the same…because they’ve both felt what it’s like to be treated like they’re not “the same.”

Nick isn’t the only character being mistreated and written off because of his species. The whole first half of the movie is about Judy being mistreated and written off. They think she can’t be a cop because she’s little and cute and a prey-animal. They think Nick can’t be trustworthy because he’s sneaky and small and a predator.

So literally…if Judy represented one race, and Nick represented a completely different race…the movie would be saying that both those races are discriminated against. They even have discrimination in common. AND, if Nick represented men who people make assumptions about because he’s a man, and Judy represented women who people make assumptions about because she’s a woman—the movie would be saying that both those genders are falsely judged.

I mean. Wow. Right now, your movie is either pro-woman or pro-man. Right now, your movie is either BLM or white-supremacy. Everybody’s lining up on one side of the line or the other. Zootopia says, “it doesn’t matter what character you’re looking at, from the elephant that can’t remember anything to the two main characters—every single one of them has fundamental things in common, and one of those things is that they all live like they’re in their own special category. When actually, they’re all fundamentally the same.”

I don’t want to keep beating the dead horse. But I have a post somewhere that lists every background character and points out that each animal is the exact opposite of what you would assume they are based on their animal-stereotype. The otters are never shown being playful or snuggly, only traumatized and ferocious. The cheetah is fat and slow, not quick or even quick on the uptake. Etc.

Even if you look outside of characters—look at the sets. Look at the environments. The whole city is designed “for animals, by animals.” But it’s in neat little segments. The animals organize themselves by habitat. Of course, in one sense that’s practical—the polar bears can’t live in Sahara Square, etc. but the point is, by making Judy and Nick, the main characters, small animals, in a city where everything is built to accommodate by species—UGH this is so good—they have to figure out how to problem-solve in situations that weren’t made to accommodate them.

Little Rodentia? Judy has to avoid stepping on all the mice or knocking over their buildings. Parking tickets? She has to figure out how to jump to reach bigger animals’ windshields—or she inconveniences smaller animals because the tickets are all printed at the exact same size. Stuck in a cell? The guards didn’t think about the fact that small animals can fit down the pipes made to accommodate big animals.

Zootopia is a city advertised to be where all the animals can come together. But the way they do that is by trying to accommodate every species’ preferences. So then actually while they try to come together, everything from their cars to their districts remind them of their differences. The whole idea is that they prioritize the wrong truths. Yeah, mice can’t drive giraffe cars—but they still have “driving” in common. See?

And oh my word. Initially it was supposed to be a spy story. But they changed it to a buddy cop story. Why? Well because justice doesn’t discriminate. Or at least, it’s not supposed to. So then there’s another lens to look at the story’s main theme through.

It’s just that every layer, every perspective you look at the movie from, is just hammering that truth into you: “Try to make the world a better place by realizing we’re fundamentally the same.”

2. Perfect Characters

Every character is so well-thought-through in this movie, even the side characters. You get the feeling you could watch a whole movie based on the side characters, because that’s the amount of love and nuance built into them.

Look at the main ones, though. Bellwhether is supposed to be soft and a follower. She’s a sheep. Instead, she’s hard and bitter—and she’s a leader. A villainous leader, but a leader, nonetheless. Even as she tries to keep animals divided based on fear of their stereotypes, she’s not fitting her own stereotype. Her voice actress has this strained, half-hoarse, but sweet voice. Like you can tell that this character has spent a lot of time under pressure and trying to manage appearances. Appearing like she’s fine, and she can handle it—until you realize that the appearance she’s really managing is “the cultural fear-based identify of the city.” They dress her in plaid and flowers and she’s a farm animal, because that’s the kind of character Judy would be most likely to trust. But she still has green eyes, and jagged teeth, so that when she does start making evil expressions there are some caricature-pieces in there that come out and accentuate that.

Nick Wilde—everybody’s favorite—is supposed to be sly and smooth and shifty. And he is. He’s a fox. But he’s also brave, helpful, and trustworthy. The first time you see him is when he’s dodging out of the way of a bigger animal ignoring him and about to run him over. Well, that’s important.

Because Judy knows what it’s like to have to get out of the way of larger animals, because they overlook her.

So right off the bat, this character she has to get along with and work with, this character who furthers her development and nails the main point, is introduced in a way that has something in common with her. But he’s also introduced in a way that gives her an opportunity to focus on a different truth—that he is different from her. Because the sheep is yelling that he’s a “fox.” Right away, we’re back to species-as-identification.

And that’s what the movie does, all the way through. It presents new animal characters, and with those new animals characters, more than one thing is true at a time. And Judy has to try to focus on which truth is more important. “Try to make the world a better place by realizing we’re all the same.” Yes, Nick is a criminal. But Nick is also brave, helpful, and eventually, becomes trustworthy.

Judy, too. Judy is an incredibly well-done character. Because she believes, in her head, that anyone can be anything—which is not what the movie ends on. In fact, she goes from saying, “anyone can be anything,” to saying, “we all have limitations.” It’s not true that a fox can be an elephant. But it is true that a fox can be trustworthy. Figure out what’s true, and try to make decisions for the better, based on that.

I could talk about character design and acting. Ginnifer Goodwin gives just the right amount of smugness and self-confidence to Judy without making her unlikeable—you don’t realize she’s smug and her self-confidence is misplaced until she does, when she fails to make the world a better place for Nick.

Judy wears tight, actionable, well-fitting uniforms for the whole movie. In her civilian clothes when she comes to Zootopia, she’s wearing athletic t-shirts and shorts. Ready for action, that’s Judy, even in her civvies. Meanwhile, Nick? Nick wears loose-fitting clothes. Loud, patterned clothes that don’t match. Like he didn’t even what, ladies and gentlemen? Like he didn’t even TRY. “Try to make the world a better place…”

Because when you meet Nick Wilde, he’s long since given up on trying, in life. So his character design reflects that. He rarely even stands up straight, or opens his eyes all the way—his default is drooping. And guess what?

When Judy “gives up?” Quits her job? Goes back home? Stops trying? Her civvies aren’t ready-for-action, trying clothes. They’re loose flannels. And her “ears are droopy.”

SERIOUSLY, you can find things like this in every corner of the movie. For every character. Not one character is a throwaway, not in voice acting, not in design, not in animation, and not in narrative.

3. Visual Appeal

Which leads me into this point—no other animated anthropomorphic animal movie is as visually appealing as Zootopia.

What Zootopia does is it matches the best of the best anthropomorphic animal designs from past Disney movies:

And they marry it with this incredible intentionality with modern CGI.

Did you know Disney invents its own software for things like fur textures?

The sheep’s wool, the velvet pig skin, the fox fur, the bunny fluff—it’s all completely different textures. There’s no one “fur” covering all the hairy mammals.

Nick isn’t just orange. He’s orange with deep red and dark tufts. Judy has black tips to her ears, too—which helps the two of them look like, in some sense, they belong “together” in every shot.

It’s so important to the movie that the animals feel like animals that they worked this hard to do this. And then that extends to the textures of the snow, the ice, the sand, the wet leaves, the grass, the fire.

Every character moves like their animal, and like themselves. Nick and Gideon are both foxes, but they don’t move similarly at all. Gideon is aggressive and glowering and physical. Nick, again, is slouchy, leans on everything, completely non-confrontational.

Other anthropomorphic animal movies like Sing or Puss in Boots—they’re not doing both as well. Zootopia is appealing, without sacrificing realism completely, and without cutting character acting.

The lighting. Nope. This post is too long, I can’t talk any more.

4. Earnestness

There is no disingenuous moment in this movie.

The animators are never lazy. They always go for the challenge. They don’t cut corners. Have you ever seen “Over the Hedge?” I like Over the Hedge. But I watched it recently and it’s crazy how many shots are strategically placed so that the animators don’t have to solve a certain effects problem.

For example, when RJ sprays Hammy with cool whip to make it look like he has rabies? He doesn’t. You never see the cool whip leave the can. It just cuts away, then cuts back when RJ is pulling the can away from his face. The shots are also cut so that you never have to see gas actually come out of Stella—and you never see Vern’s full body as he gets back into his shell, just the upper part of the shell as he wiggles it around, going through the motions of putting it back on.

That’s because that stuff would be painstaking to animate. Any time one character has to interact with props or substances (especially liquids) that are not part of their model, it’s harder on the animator.

Zootopia? We’re getting full-on views of characters getting wet, fur and all, characters touching various objects and elements, foam coming out of the mouth, new clothes, new set pieces, multiple models, huge crowd shots of different animals in different outfits, all with their own movement patterns and acting.

And all that hard work and effort, aimed so totally at the main theme of the movie? Making sure it looks as good as it can? Not just that, but the way it’s written, the acting, is so genuine. They don’t hold anything back. They don’t shy away from real emotion.

Judy Hopps’ apology scene is brutal. She’s crying, having a hard time finishing a sentence, her voice is all tight. It’s not pretty, it’s not romantic, it’s like…ugly crying. And her character is wrong in a super embarrassing way. They're not afraid to go there. The writers, the actors, the animators—they’re not afraid of being too vulnerable with these character flaws.

So many movies, especially kids’ movies today—they just pull up and shy away from being real through their characters. They think a quick sad facial expression will get the point across. And it does. The audience gets that the character feels sad about whatever the circumstance of the scene is. But not as powerfully. Because you didn’t put as much work and heart into it.

Zootopia is all heart, from work ethic to vulnerability to the filmmakers enjoying what they’re doing, enough to make it as good as it can possibly be. I can’t explain it better, other than to say, you feel like they would’ve been happy making this movie much much longer than it was. You feel like they’re cramming every bit of joy and passsion into every little joke, every side character, every hair on a CGI bear.

There you go. Long post, you did ask for it

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I think it's very fun to talk about mental health in normalizing conversations because when I was little and I would tic so hard for so long that I started crying, my mom would hold my hands and tell me to stand on her toes and she would "dance me through it" and so I would and she would spin around and around, stepping carefully so my little feet never slipped off the top of her feet, but moving fast so I would get all giggly and dizzy, and by the end she was right! My ticcing wasn't as bad anymore.

And like. I know now that it's because I was actively stressing myself out trying to stop ticcing, and since my tics are stress-reactive that obviously made it worse, but at the time I was just a kindergartener living in a world where dancing made my body stop performing the compulsions and so sometimes I would "dance myself through it" if mom wasn't around and when people maxe fun of me for it, I couldn't do that around them anymore and so I would tic more often and get more overwhelmed and there were days I wouldn't stop ticcing for hours on end because no one but my mom was willing to just let me dance through them.

But until the first time that happened, I didn't know there was anything unusual or unfamiliar to others about what I was doing. My mom was just so matter of fact about it "when you can't stopticcing, that's your body asking you to move and dance amd get the stress out" so I believed her! Of course I did. And she was right even, at least for me.

I was an adult by the time I learned that my mom ticc'd too, because she'd been doing what she taught me for so long that it was rare it happened visibly anymore, and it made sense that she'd been able to move me through my own experience so gently after that. But what if it didn't take a parent sharing our experience to be able to exist in a context that doesn't pathologize or shame what's happening?

Anyway, I've been in and out of various inpatient and outpatient programs since I was 7yrs old, and nothing did more damage to me than the people who taught my mother that there were things about my brain and body that were Wrong TM and needed fixing when she had spent the entirety of my life up to that point accommodating my needs and helping me understand how to coexist in the world on my own terms. I've benefitted from having names for things, sure, and I've had great healing and community in peer groups based around sharing those experiences. But at the end of the day, it is when those same spaces allow me to decide how to talk about what my life feels like that they have meant the most to me. I will always be grateful to the mental health care providers in my life who have been supportive of this type of care for me, but ultimately I also understand that they were able to do that because they were actively breaking down my framework of "because I experience x, I must compensate with y" into a gentler version that goes more like "because I experience x, I may need to seek out y outcome in different or unexpected ways."

I don't know why that makes as much difference to me as it does, but it does.

Anyway, I want to do for someone else what my mom did for me. I want someone else to get to feel like they can ask themselves what they need to get through something and not set any particular moral or emotional meaning to that need.

I have, among others, symmetry tics. If I experience a sensation on one side of my body, I will often reflexively try to adequately mirror it on the other side of my body. One of the pitfalls I often fall into is "the symmetry tic was actuallya different sensation and now I have to mirror THAT on the original side" and off we go into a tic spiral. The trick, for me, has been learning how to hold myself safely in the stress of the tic compulsion until the original sensation passes or fades and that allows the compulsion to fade with it. That can be hard, but taking a cue from my mom, I've found that when I occupy my body with movement, especially goal oriented but indefinite movement like dance, I have a MUCH easier time waiting for the trigger sensation to fade. I think it's good for those of us with experiences we often feel compelled to hide from view to get time in the sun. It lets us remember that our existence is not inherently side-lined in favor of other existences, and we do have the right to ask people to work with us on creating space for our own version of living. That may not guarantee us the desired outcome, but I've found that feeling you have the right to ask in the first place and actively come to the conclusion TOGETHER that there is not a solution is what seems to allow me to make those compromises without feeling erased or ashamed when I do.

[ziminy]

My sleeping beauty

What happens when you accidentally break a curse

Tags: smut, mdni, f!reader, witch!reader, cursed prince!nanami, oral (f receiving), fated lovers, fingering, praises, names (love), nanami making sweet sweet love to you, sudden love confession, creampie, just me being feral for this man,

Author's note: I kinda got inspired from real life because when I wake up I hit every single object in front of me and I can bearly stand on my feet. So try to think of someone who was asleep for a few good years. Might as well not get up from the bed at all.

Author's note: I'd suck the soul out of this man.

Masterlist kinktober masterlist

You were looking for some plants that grow in a very specific region. It wasn't something new for you, since you do that all the time. Unfortunately, this time you woke up with some complications.

You were walking around looking for what you needed when you saw a castle a little bit away from where you were. It looked abandoned, vines and all kind of vegetation taking over it. It had lot of cracks and it looked old and very much damaged.

You couldn't ask for a better place to make as your temporary home.

So, you went there, happily preparing everything you needed to accommodate yourself in a tower that looked in a presentable condition and then left to look for the plant you needed once again.

Everything went smoothly, you found what you were looking for, no one disturbed you and now all you had to do is prepare the potion you wanted to make so badly. However, you needed to do the potion on a sunny day, and outside it was raining. And since you didn't had the perfect environment to complete your quest, you decided to explore the castle.

It was indeed old. From the furniture to the decorations. You haven't seen that style in a good couple of years.

It had its own charm though. It looked like a time capsule.

You won't be able to find buildings like these anymore, and even if you do, it was just some cheap imitation of how things used to be. It won't look as authentic as this.

This place was huge, outside and on the inside. Rooms after rooms, and windows so tall that it reaches from the floor to the ceiling. Paintings bigger than yourself and long rugs that looked like they needed some cleaning. You could do a few spells here and there, but was the pain really worth it when you won't spend a lot of time there anyway?

And besides, you liked the place just the way it was. Forgotten by humans and full of dust.

"This place stinks of magic." you said after you walked into a corridor far away from where you placed your little laboratory.

The hallway you just walked into was getting absolutely no light from outside, no windows could be seen. And the walls were full of green and plants, long spiky vines that went to a door, blocking any access to it.

Not for you though. With a hand movement the door was free to use, now being wide open leading to a room with a single large window and a bed.

The moment you stepped into the room you could sense the source of the magic you kept feeling, and it lend you to the bed.

There was something in it, but you couldn't see what exactly it was. Maybe it was a ancient relic, or a very rare magic object that would go good with your collection of antiques. Whatever it was, it got your attention and you moved closer to the bed.

You expect to see something unseen before, since this place was filled with this overbearing magic that was playing with your senses, but instead, you saw a beautiful man sleeping.

You blinked a few times, trying to understand what's going on. Why was he the source of this bad feeling, why he reak like evil magic.

You were about to step away, not wanting to get caught in the middle of this but when you tried to turn around you lost your balance and fell on top of the sleeping man, your face right into his, lips touching softly. You quickly got up, wanting nothing more than to run away from there. But he woke up.

Eyes looking at you and at your failed attempt to get out of there. Now stuck in that room and owning an explanation on why you woke him up.

"Um-" you bite your lower lip, not knowing what to say. "I'm sorry for waking you up."

He didn't said a thing, slowly getting up, still sitting in bed and looking around the room for a moment. He looked confused at first, he looked confused at his surroundings and at you.

The room felt a lot more clear now that he woke up, the bad magic disappearing a little with each second that pass by. And he seems to regain his consciousness too, now looking less confused and at peace somehow.

"It's you." he said after a while, making you jump when you heard his deep husky voice. He got at the edge of the bed, looking like he was about to get up, but he didn't. "I never thought that you'll appear." he said, a hand going over his face, massaging his forehead for a moment. "I apologize." he sighed. "I just woke up and I'm a bit dizzy."

"No, it's alright." you said, surprised at how calm he was to wake up with a stranger in his room. "I'm the one who should apologize for entering your home without permission."

"It's alright. I'm sure you had a good motive." his words only made you feel guilty for staying without even checking if someone lives in the castle. "Plus, it's raining." you forgot about that.

He was way too understanding, and it was suspicious.

Was this a trap? Was this a big elaborate scheme to get rid of you in a complicated way? You don't remember getting on anyone's bad side so this whole situation was confusing.

"W- well..!" you had to get out of there. "I will take my leave now. If you excuse me." you said, ready to run away from there.

"Where are you going?" he tried to get up, but ended up falling back on the bed. "Come here, let's talk." you were on high alert, waiting for anything to jump out the shadows and hit. You were extremely paranoid and the fact that the room was magic free now was even more suspicious. "How long have I slept?"

"I don't know." you answer truthfully.

"Aren't you sent here by my parents?" you shook your head. "Then why are you here?"

"I'm doing some research about the local flora." you weren't lying, but you weren't saying the truth either. It was better to not reveal too much.

"I understand." he didn't sounded like a bad guy, but you couldn't trust him completely. "You see, I was cursed right after I was born." that explains the unpleasant magic. "I fell into a deep slumber. And I couldn't be woken up no matter how hard people tried."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you broke the curse." but how?

"I didn't do anything though?" he shook his head.

"Only the true love's kiss could have saved me." he chuckled at your dumbfounded expression. "You don't have to believe me. I had doubts about it too. However, I see that it was indeed true. And personally, I'm glad it ended up like this. I'm happy your my savior." he spoke with such a calm voice. For a moment you actually believed his words, making your heart skip a beat and your face getting hotter.

Was he saying the truth? You might consider any of his advances if his words were true.

"I really didn't do much." you said, playing with your fingers. "I tripped and fell on you. It was an accident, I swear."

"It's alright. I'm not mad." this was only making you feel guilty. "I hate to ask this, but can you help me get up? I'm a bit rusty from all that sleeping." your body moved on it's own towards him, grabbing his hand in yours and helping him stand on his feet.

He was tall. You didn't noticed that when he was sitting, but damn, he was really tall. And now that your closer to him, he looks a lot more muscular too. Broad shoulders, and the way his hand was a lot bigger than yours. His touch was gentle, while his steps were clumsy.

"I want to get closer to the window." he said and you stayed by his side until he got to the closest window.

The castle was surrounded by ruins. Not a single civilian could be seen. Anything human related looked like it was slowly evaporating, getting destroyed by time and nature.

"This place used to be full of life." he said, a hint of sadness could be heard in his voice. And it was very much showed on his face.

"The king moved the palace somewhere else."

"I see." so they forgot about him. They chose to leave him behind and continue to move on.

"The new location is much worse, if you ask me." you tried to console him in a way or another. "And the kingdom is not doing as good as it used to be since they moved the palace. It's their lose, if you ask me." he could only sigh.

"It still makes me feel useless."

"Don't be. I'm sure you'll do much better without them, if that's what you want. I can take you there if you wish to." why were you trying to please this man was a mystery. Whenever he looked at you your knees would go weak, you wanted nothing more but for him to be happy and in a good shape.

"I want to take a look around the castle before I decide." and his wish came true. You showed him around, you cooked for him and when the night came, you even looked around for a better room for him to sleep in. "I'm not weak, you don't have to look after me." he said that but he couldn't even stand on his feet on his own.

"Say that when you can get out of bed without my help." this situation was making him feel even more miserable. He was abandoned, being way too useless for anyone's help and now he couldn't do anything on his own because his body felt like gelatin.

How much time did he actually slept? It couldn't be one or two days by the way this place looked like, it couldn't be weeks or months either.

But you were there for him. You helped him with anything he needed, you even forgot about your own research and only focused on him. And your help did wanders because a few days later he was like a brand new person. He was back to his own self. But if you're being honest, you're a little sad about it. You couldn't be as close to him as before. So you had no choice but to watch him from afar.

"Have you decided what are you going to do in the future?" you asked him while you were walking around the castle.

"Ah.. Well." he forgot about that.

"Do you want to go to the palace? You don't have anything to do here anyway." he knew that. "Or.. You could come with me." he looked at you, not sure if it was you who said those words or if it was his imagination playing with him. "I'm planning on leaving this place as soon as possible." being around him was not good for your heart, plus, if he never planned on being with you then you're only playing with your feelings.

"You're leaving?" he asked. You nodded and kept looking right ahead, too flustered to look at him or in his direction.

"I finished my research a long time ago. I was waiting for the right time to leave."

"I want to come with you." he said, still not believing that you're the one who suggested him to come with you.

"You're sure? My place is not as luxurious as this castle." he'll lit this place on fire without even blinking if that means he'll be with you.

"I'll go to the end of the world if you're there. I'll come with you wherever you plan on going." you smiled softly. He was too much for you. He said whatever he wanted to say without thinking twice and it always took you by surprise.

"Then, how about we leave tomorrow? I have to gather my stuff and then we can leave once the sun is out." he'll do whatever you want him to.

He helped you pack and by the time you were finish it was already dark outside.

For a moment, you managed to slip out that room, going somewhere further away from the tower, back to where you found Nanami sleeping.

The room looked the same, the big bed in the middle of the room, the window that was still open from the last time you went there and the big moon shining on the sky. Tonight it was full of stars.

You could see this scenery from anywhere in the castle, but it looked extremely beautiful from that specific window.

"I knew you would be here." his voice could be heard from behind you.

"I was exploring the castle for one more time before we left." he stopped next to you, looking out the window in the same direction as you did.

"You look beautiful tonight." you giggled. "You look beautiful all the time." oh, but could he stop for a moment. He was always complimenting you.

"You look beautiful too, Kento." he smiled, being more happy with the way you said his name than the compliment.

"You're more beautiful." you could only laugh at his stubbornness.

"You are."

"Let me kiss you." one of his hands went to your hips, waiting for your answer before he would continue to do something.

"Sure." you laughed, still a bit surprised by his words.

Dragging you closer by your hips, his free hand went on your cheek, softly placing his lips against yours. He stood there for a second, liking the way your body feels before getting his face away to look at you, enjoying the expression you had on your face even more.

Your big eyes, and the way you're looking at him. Your lips looked like it was calling him back, and he couldn't get enough of you.

His lips went back on yours, placing a small kiss before another came, and then another, and the more your lips touched the more hungry it became.

That soft delicate kiss was now a much more passionate one. One where your mouths were open and tongues touching, hands traveling on the other's body to discover more. Soft sounds leaving out your mouths when a particular spot was being touched, when it felt too good.

"Stay with me tonight." he said between kisses.

"Mm." you hummed something in response. Too horny to even think of a sentence to formulate.

With small steps, you were walking towards the bed, clothes being taken off and all naked by the time you got to there.

"Lay down." he said, helping you get in bed. "I want to taste more of you." you'd let him explore your body however he wanted.

You nodded, looking at him get in between your legs, placing them on his shoulder and leaving a small kiss on your lower stomach.

He looked up at you for a moment before he lower his head, another kiss placed on your pussy before he took a better look at you. "You're so wet." he said all happily. "For me." he placed another kiss. "I'm going to take good care of you." he slowly kissed your entrance, and then went up until he found your clit, kissing and sucking it as one of his fingers went inside of you.

He kept moving his finger at a low speed while he was giving your clit the attention it needed. And after some time another finger was added, trying to stretch you out as much as it's needed.

"Ken.." you sighed his name. "It feels good. Keep it just like that." if this is how you like it then this is how you'll receive it.

Your hands went to his hair, gripping it softly, making him to curl his fingers.

What was he doing out of you. It was so good that you couldn't even think straight anymore, your mind blank as you felt something building up inside of you. Somehow, you wanted him to stop. Too embarrassed to let him see this part of you. But at the same time you needed that release. It was so close, you could practically taste it and you'll start crying if he actually stops.

Your thighs almost closed, lucky his hands were there to stop you from trapping his head.

"You did good." he said and got up, finding a good position in between your legs.

"Oh, Ken.." he could listen to you and your voice for hours. The way you say his name was more than enough for him.

"Tell me if it hurts." with his cock in his hand, he slowly got inside of you, stopping when just the tip was inside to see if you're in any kind of discomfort. Then he kept going, stopping not even halfway through just to make sure everything was alright.

"Just get in already. I want to feel you." you were impatient. You felt like he was playing with you by how slow he was going.

He dropped some of his body weight into you, his arms placed on either sides of your head, caging you between him and the bed after he got all the way in. He stayed like that for a moment, enjoy the scent and warmth of your body.

It was nice, it felt nice. For him it was the way you were to tight, the way your warm walls were hugging him so nicely. And for you it was the way he split you open. His cock touched so many good places. But he didn't dared to move just yet, he wanted to stay like this for a little longer.

"Ken." you said his name so sweetly.

"Yes, love?" he kissed your forehead.

"Can you move?" he could, but he liked the way things were like at the moment. But he couldn't complain when you looked so lovely for him.

So, he slowly moved his hips. Getting out of you just a little, pausing, and then getting back inside. It wasn't anything wild, but it was enough to make your body heat up even more. Soft sounds leaving your mouth every time he moved, the friction being too good.

The pace was painful slow, truly. But from how he stuffed you up it was more than enough for the moment. The places he touches, the way he felt inside of you. God, he could stay like this forever.

"You feel so good." he praised you, his lips on your forehead, placing a soft kiss before he moved his hips a little faster. Again, it wasn't something too much. It just a little faster, it was still the same old enjoyable pace.

It was more than enough, but you wanted more of him. You wanted to leave kisses all over his body, to touch him more, you wanted his body even closer to yours.

He was killing you softly. You needed something more, you wanted him to go faster, but he was so painfully slow. You wanted him to go deeper, but he seems to hold back.

"Ken." you said his name, placing a kiss on his cheek. "I need more." he hummed, nodding his head and placing his arms somewhere closer to you.

He kissed you before starting to move again, this time deeper, hitting your deepest spot just right. It took you by surprise even if you knew what he was about to do. You couldn't help but gasp every time the tip of his cock was touching that spongy spot.

He wasn't even applying any kind of force, he was just moving in and out of you, not getting even halfway out. He wanted to stay inside of you, he's not stupid to leave you alone when you were so good for him.

Your arms went around his neck, one of your hand going to his hair when his lips touched yours. His kisses were so passionate, full of love and lust. It was full of his feelings for you, making it up for the time he couldn't express how he felt when you two meet. It was his mixed feelings, it was for the way he loved you as a person and for the way he loved and craved for your body and more. He might not say it out loud, but he fell for you the moment he open his eyes.

"I love you." he said after he broke the kiss, giving you time to give him a response. You looked at him, big doe eyes and blinking slowly, trying to understand what he just said. "I'd sleep another hundred of years if that means that I get to meet you again and again." he stopped his hip movement, still inside you. "Ever since I opened my eyes, I loved you." you had a dumb smile on your face, giggling and looking away for a moment.

"Oh, Kento." your laugh was so colorful. "I love you too." he kissed your cheek, then your forehead and then your hair.

He slowly started to move his hips again, somehow, this time more passionately. His lips never leaving your body, kissing every inch on your skin that gets in front of him. He was so determined to make you feel good. He wanted to know that he did well, that he's giving you more pleasure than you ever received.

Maybe he's dumb for being selfish, but he didn't cared when your voice sounded like the best melody he ever heard. The sounds you made, so sweet and melodic, making him to want more.

"There, just right there." you said out of breath when he kept hitting a spot that got you trembling. His lips on yours once again, kissing you hungrily while a hand of his went between your legs, moving his thumb on your clit, making you moan into his mouth.

He kept going, the room filled with filthy noises made by your bodies. Wet sounds of skin against skin, too obscene for anyone else to hear.

"Cum with me, please. Cum with me." you begged, out of breath and too desperate for your sweet release.

He was close too, hang in there for a moment. He'll give you what you're asking for. He won't leave you alone.

A low groan left his body, and with a few more thrusts, he came inside you, going as deep as he could, filling you up.

"We might have to stay here tomorrow as well." he said after a while, both of you finally having somehow more clear minds.

"I don't mind where I am as long as I'm with you." you said, cupping his face with your hands and kissing him.

"I feel the same." he said, kissing your forehead before he started to move his hips again. "You can do it one more time, can you? I haven't had enough of you just yet."

Author's note: It only took me two days to write this and it's very much obviously. I might re write it in the future.

[punkpandapatrixk]

Full Worm Moon in Libra ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

Heey~ Yesterday/today is the first Full Moon of the astrological year!🍹Starting off this March, when the Sun is in Aries and the Full Moon is in Libra, the Human world is balancing good and evil⚖️Balancing Positive and Negative. Masculine and Feminine. Electric and Magnetic. Light and Dark. Yang and Yin☯️

With Libra’s aenergy, there are themes of JUSTICE taking place, and spiritually attuned peeps are going to see themselves flip🙃In a positive and empowered way, of course! In this event, take a look at your 7th House of relationships with others, which, ultimately is a reflection of your relationship with the unconscious part of yourself. 7th House is aspects/qualities/elements of ourselves we aren’t very conscious of unless we ‘make the effort to make the unconscious conscious’, says Carl Jung.

This Full Worm Moon in Libra, you will notice that your 7th House gets activated in such an empowered way that you will be rid of all shame and regret pertaining to all your 7th House-y-actions… Let’s make this make sense:

If whatever is in your 1st House makes you soft, polite, kind and gentle, to a point where you’ve often turned into a doormat, accommodating other people’s whimsical ego, you’ll now begin to see yourself embracing more of your SASS and general bitchiness that are already reflected by whatever is in your 7th House😾

If on the other hand, whatever is in your 1st House makes you unkind, argumentative, abrasive, competitive and generally conflicty, to a point where you’ve always been the mean girl or boy or whatever, you’ll see yourself mellow out significantly and suddenly able to reflect on the importance of being considerate, based on whatever sweetness is already in your 7th House🍬

This year, is a year we become whole by embracing ALL aspects of ourselves and turn it all into authentic personal power🪁

‘There is one thing stronger than all the armies of the world, and that is an idea whose time has come.’ – Victor Hugo

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – You’ve Taken Care of Everybody’s Opinions

L i g h t – Page of Pentacles

No matter your age, you feel like you’re still a student of Life, especially in terms of understanding Human relations. The reason for that, is that your heart is too pure for this world. Irrespective of age, you feel like you’re still grappling with understanding how some Humans can be so… bad. And you’ve wondered if maybe you’re the really bad person. You’ve been gaslit into questioning your own Soul. Your Soul is good, so good that you trust too easily because you see the positive in all situations. You’re an effervescent optimist! It’s taken you such a long time to realise it’s time you stopped considering other people too much.

Up until the time you find this reading, you’ve been hard at work in growing yourself, developing a stronger character by fully knowing what makes you, you. That way, you won’t be as easily swayed by other people’s opinions that seem to paint you in a bad light when you’ve literally been nothing but kind, understanding, and earnestly cooperative. Because you’ve been surrounded by people who earnestly want to dim your Light, because these people want to corrupt your Soul and take away your optimism, some of the noises of their opinions have become a permanent noise in the background of your mind.

D a r k – 3 of Swords

Sometimes, you find yourself gossiping about your ineptitude in your own mind. And you’re left brokenhearted wondering why you’re so lacking as a person. But, you do realise these aren’t your actual voice, right? Those are the opinions of those who have been exceedingly critical of you. They’re jealous more than anything; and because you’re so kind and take everybody seriously, you’ve taken even these shit opinions too seriously, all because you are by nature empathetic and considerate. But now, it’s perfectly safe for you to stop considering other people’s negative opinions of you.

If I’m being honest, you should fight back. Give ‘em a taste of their own medicine. And if that’s not your style, IGNORE ‘em. Completely ignore ‘em and remove them from your Reality and sooner than later, one way or another, you’ll hear from someone else how they’re doing pathetically now that you’re no longer part of their miserable life. And that, would serve them right. They didn’t treat you right when a person as kind and helpful as you were in their life; now let ‘em deal with their own karma~ Why should you care? Ungrateful bitches will never see anything good in Life anyway.

b a l a n c e – 10 of Cups Rx

For many of you resonating with this Pile, I sense the people who’ve given you so much of this particular brand of pain is family. Or perhaps, people you’ve considered to be best friends or your ‘tribe’ even. Of course, the pain of betrayal and abandonment coming from such people can be quite devastating. But, Imma share this thing I saw on Pinterest that goes something like,

‘My therapist told me that the reason family and closest friends can’t seem to support you is that they can’t stand the idea of you becoming something more than they could ever envision themselves to be. They can’t bear the idea that you’ve come from the same place, yet they’re still in the same place.’

WHOA. I think that applies to your situation with this reading.

This Full Worm Moon in Libra is validating your hard work at developing yourself to become a much greater version of what you were in the past. Those who aren’t happy with your progress, those who won’t support your dreams and goals, are you sure you still need them? Love yourself enough to know you deserve better company. ‘Family’ isn’t defined by blood—that’s literally only karmic bond—rather, it is a feeling of warmth and acceptance coming from those who make you feel that you do truly belong~

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Green Historian (Herodotus) & Priestess of Luck

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Someone Like You Doesn’t Happen Every Day

L i g h t – King of Wands

Are you aware that you’re gifted with this rare ability to absorb other people’s pain and transmute whatever bullshit causes them pain back to Light? Yeah I know, that doesn’t sound at all like a ‘gift’. But although having a gift such as this can be traumatising when you’re young, all of the spiritual work you’re doing will in time be rewarded 3000-fold! At the time you’re finding this reading, good karma is about to hit you back in the head LOL

I’d suggest you connect with your Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides and then try to find other PACs either on Tumblr or YouTube with keywords like ‘what’s your good karma returning to you?’ or something like that. The year 2024 is going to be very energetic for you. You’ve done A FUCKTON of spiritual work for other people and yourself, it is now time you’re taken care of by forces beyond the corporeal.

I sense very strongly Mother Earth herself and the fairy, sea, and animal kingdoms wanting to give back to you for all the aenergetic healing you’ve done for them as well. Bihh? Who are you?? XDD

D a r k – IX The Hermit Rx

You’re somebody who possesses a unique duality within. You’re like the sea itself. Beautiful, calming, deep, mesmerising, nurturing and soothing; but treat you wrong and you’re raging waves that can swallow and kill anything in your way. Actually, if everything were up to you, you’d want always to be on your good side and hope everybody views only this side of you. You’re so kind and charitable, more than people give you credit for. Alas…people are stoopid and ungrateful.

The problem that you often have with people is that they’re not decent enough. They don’t use enough common sense. They’re lacking in politeness. They don’t observe social conundrum. This kind of thing bothers the living shit out of you. You’ve a strong sense of rules. After being let down quite a bit, you’re now realising interacting with Humans is exhausting.

b a l a n c e – Knight of Cups Rx

In many ways, you’ve tried to minimise human interactions and that’s all fine. The Full Moon is just reminding you that you still have many good friends in the incorporeal realms. Although they can’t really be there for you in the physical, they can always be there for you aenergetically. You know most of them are telepathic, right? Try to connect more often to get healing energies from them~

Also, perhaps this isn’t immediate for all of you choosing this Pile, but there’s a strong feeling that you need to adopt a pet. There’s a pet animal somewhere in this world who’s your soulmate and they’re finding their way into your Life. If you already have a pet, be prepared to have a new family member~

If getting a pet isn’t resonating, there’s a sense that you could meet a Human soulmate when being in the presence of an animal. Be alert! Kyaaah~

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Silver Astronomer (Galileo Galilei) & Priestess of Energy

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – You Fear Your Own Superhuman Manifestation Power? Bitch??

L i g h t – Knight of Pentacles

See, you’re a bit of a wild child—that’s how you’ve always been. But you’re not one without a plan! You’re a kid with visions most others couldn’t understand. Your inspirations and daydreams come from a much higher plane of consciousness. Because you’re daring, a lot of people you know probably think you’re reckless at best, crazy at worst. Or maybe it’s the other way around XD

Nevertheless, you’re the kid who realises ALL your dreams when you grow up because you really put in ALL the work necessary to make your dreams come true. In spite of oppositions, in spite of setbacks, in spite of heartbreaks, even after thoughts of giving up, there’s always something there deep within you that keeps recalibrating you to your original Divine Game Plan!

Why do you think that is? Because whatever you dream for yourself, it’s meant to happen. Life’s greatest joy is bearing witness to all of your hard work getting paid in kind. Most of all, paid in your spiritual satisfaction over all you’ve done with your Life~

D a r k – I The Magician Rx

Well, for many of you stumbling upon this Pile, you were probably attracted to another Pile which would likely be your main pile. If that is the case, this Pile is just serving to dig a bit deeper into some strange fears you have about your manifestation abilities. By nature, you are a master manifestor already. You can easily create Realities with just a thought. The occurrence of synchronicities with you is a lot, a loot higher than most people. At the time of stumbling upon this Pile, you’re probably already experiencing synchronicities by the hour!

You’re almost already ONE with your God Consciousness. This is a Creator Consciousness that only some VERY high-vibrational beings can have access to, let alone understand. If there is any semblance of fear in you regarding a VERY big manifestation you’re working on (or know you’re getting pretty soon) it’s probably related to how others are going to perceive you if you have all of these blessings, right? Hmm…?

b a l a n c e – 10 of Wands Rx

You fear that others are going to be envious of you. You fear losing connections with those whose hearts are not big enough to be happy with you when you have more. You fear even, to some extent, that you’re going to be seen as a villain because you seem to have it all so easily. When in reality, it’s not like you didn’t put in all the work—both the seen and the unseen! Nevertheless, you’re still bothered by this idea, fact even, that most people love a company in misery.

In that sense, there could be something in you that’s withholding this manifestation out of fear. It’s like…this manifestation can’t come to be until you give your permission for it to manifest in your physical. That said, this reading is just pointing out this unique mechanism in your manifestation in regards to your surrounding/environment hahah

There’s really not much else to say but that your Divine Timing is now decided by…You. God Creator. Are you ready…?

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Red Physician (Galen of Pergamon) & Priestess of Illumination

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

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[zeondraws]

Ok, Fellas, so today was wild

I'm at Gamescom atm and a week before this I tried to make a small plan for myself. Mostly because I had gotten such a big interest for the game, I wanted to see if I can meet anyone at the event.

After having had a big hurdle while trying to reenter the business area, I was able to go back and meet someone from the Chinese Room (I met two today). Which was wild for me, didn't think with this sudden interest in the game that I was able to meet someone from the team who worked on the game so soon.

I told them how I struggle to find interests in most games since those usually don't speak to me, but Still Wakes The Deep suddenly caught my attention. Where I ended up researching a bunch to find hidden details or eastereggs, looking through the game files and replaying the game to further understand the story.

I only had a small window to ask a bunch of questions, I sadly couldn't ask silly questions like "Does Muir look like a Bagpipe?" or ask some Questions about Caz.

Before the meeting I asked people on the discord server if they wanted to know anything. So I tried to take the questions I had for the moment and get through them XD

I did tell them how there is a small community on tumblr/discord where we gather. And that I asked some folk for questions I should ask.

Ok these are big spoilers, at least some suprised me, quite a bunch if them are of course about Muir and Innes.

I hope I remember everything properly that he told me, I immediately wrote everything down on discord for the others to read, but figured making a tumblr post will be good as well.

Innes:

Quite a lot of people asked about the VA of Innes, apparently they forgot to include him in the credits which made them feel extremely bad, even apologising to them. I can definitely understand how that must feel, I think I'd melt away. They'd fix it in the next patch, I can't check if it's already fixed atm.

At the very end of our chat, while shaking hands, I asked if Innes is bald. And the answer was "*laughs* yes".

Now I clearly asked this one as a joke, because I found it funny to tell the others on discord, however I very much support luscious hair Innes that many are drawing.

Muir:

I explained to them how I've been researching some stuff in the game. And figured out, that Muir must've died around the time when Caz flooded the Forward Pontoon in Marine Control. So I asked if that's possible to be the time when it actually happend- and they did confirm this! I was surprised that I got that on point.

But I got some further details about this, apparently they wanted to showcase how Muir would've died there.

Basically, once Caz flooded the Forward Pontoon, you would've seen Muir outside loosing his grip out in the deck and getting crushed under debris.

Which was so painful for me to imagine, to see Muir outside, walking on his tendrils and suddenly not being able to keep his balance.

I tried illustrating how I roughly imagine this scene, it ain't perfect, but maybe it helps everyone to visualise it.

The Flooding shifted the entire rig and debris fell onto him.

To have some sense where everything is, Accommodation Roof (where you find Roy) is on the left side, if you look at the rig from the Derrick entrance. And Marine Control should be on the right side.

The thing is Marine Control is facing the ocean (if I remember correctly, I hope I do, I'm currently not home to check), so you couldn't take a look at the derick while Caz does the thing. Which basically made them remove this and hid Muir nearby the Derrick for players to find. And I told him how I replayed the game and saw Muir lay there with Innes, it was 6AM and I just sat there like O-O

Muir & Innes:

A burning question for many was, what their relationship is. And they told me it's more like a father son relationship, saying how Innes is very strict to Muir.

Muir is the younger one of the two and also likes to tease Innes a bunch (so the pipe thing is one of his many shenanigans he'd do)

Here we see a wild Muir in his natural habitat about to prank his friend (caught in 4k) (I almost died) (look at him plotting).

Now, I could not forget to mention that the fandom decided to ship Muir and Innes and wanted to see their reaction. They took it with a smile and just talked about their complex relationship again. Which I found cool to hear.

I sadly don't remember every small detail of the convo, since I wanted to make sure that I was able to ask all the questions people wrote on discord.

Brodie & Raffs:

This was a surprise to hear, which also made me very sad. Brodie was also like a father for Raffs, he knew his mother too.

And apparently Brodie was supposed to tell Raffs mother incase anything happened to him. So that she can feel better knowing Raffs died quickly and without much pain. Which is just... I'm in shambles. sobbing

Gibbo:

Some folk wanted to know if he had an actual model, to which the person answered with yes. They planned to show him at some point, but decided that the player should see Trots firstly.

I also randomly asked if the Gibbo model ingame was a part of Addairs model (judging by the game files), if I remember correctly he nodded.

I hope we get to see it in the artbook, I preordered it but forgor to tell him that. But it's okay.

I sadly don't remember everything here, I had to check discord for the questions (I hope I don't say anything wrong), but with Gibbo they focused more on the sound design and the mystery. And I think in the end it worked out perfectly.

Other:

They implanted a bunch of eastern eggs into the game, the art director even said he's still finding new ones to this day.

He mentioned the pictures shown in various areas and mentioned that he inserted pictures of his family and cousins etc.

Also the Kid inside the TV in the Crew Lounge? That's the Art Director as a kid! Whaaaaaaaa- Didn't know this one for sure.

And another random thing, I showed him the meme that @cazrig made. Because I inserted it inside my piece of fanart. I sadly couldn't show him more memes of the community because I forgor/no time. The memes Robin made are also comedy gold.

It was this one (I keep dying of laughter)

He found it very funny, so did the other person I showed it to.

But he also talked about how worried he was how the game would be perceived in the end. Since it came out extremely close to the release date of the new Elden Ring DLC. And having worked on it for so long they didn't know how the reactions would be.

But were positively surprised how well it was perceived, people playing the game, tears being shed and so on.

Okay that took me ages to write, I just wanted to have it all inside a tumblr post. Otherwise I may forget stuff if it's scattered on discord.

The event day turned out well for me today. I was so worried, that my tiny plan wouldn't work yesterday. But somehow I had some luck on my side.

After I got home I added his signature to my physical copy. I also made myself a small card with my artwork for it. I also gave them a small card and a big printed version of the fanart as well.

Thank you John!

I go sleep now, tomorrow is another gamescom day

[masonm99]

Let Me Take Care Of You

Manchester United had done it! They had won the FA Cup final and you couldn’t be proud, especially for the love of your life.

Mason.

After the season he had, this was the best way to end things and you couldn’t wait to show him how proud you are of him.

You waited long enough, after all you couldn’t tear your eyes off him when he wore the suit, it was your weakness. His hair already made you weak. This suit of his though, it was brutal for you to watch him parade in it and you not being able to do anything up until now and even then you didn't have long because the afterparty was in about an hour. So you had to be quick and let out all your feelings in the hour that you had before you go to the afterparty having to pretend again that the suit doesn't make you want to tear his suit off right there and then in that moment.

Replaying the FA cup win in your head made you feel proud and happy for the team and especially Mason - as it always did. But you were only human, and that suit on him was the reason you were dripping wet for him.

‘You here, babe?’ You heard Mason yell, you were in the ensuite when he came into the hotel room, and you walked out as soon as you heard him, and made a beeline for him and jumped into his arms as soon as you saw him. You leapt up and circled your legs around his waist.

You placed your lips on his and kissed him; you couldn't waste any time. You were practically insatiable. You felt Mason walk over to the edge of the bed, and sat down, you were now on his lap, never once breaking the kiss.

Mason's large hands went down to your ass; you were still in your Manchester United shirt specifically and obviously the number 7 shirt, nothing else. You didn't bother wearing much clothes when you came back to the hotel as you knew what would happen and thought it would save you time and get to the real deal quick enough because you couldn't keep your hands off him long enough.

‘Fuck Y/N no underwear, and the number 7 looks so fuckin' sexy on you. Are you trying to make me fuck you?’ He smirked. You pulled back from his lips and glared at him.

‘Ah, not yet. Let me take care of you first,’ you say with a wink.

‘Damn! What did I do to deserve this? But you know I love when you take control so go ahead baby,’ Mason says, his tongue poking his cheek, looking all smug and cockily.

‘Win the FA cup, duh,’ you playfully say, rolling your eyes.

‘You better get on your knees then baby.’ he winks.

Before obeying him, you couldn't resist but leaving open mouthed kisses on his neck. You trail your mouth even lower , grabbing his arms as you kiss his chest, licking his nipple , then biting it softly, then giving the other nipple the same attention; his arms are flexed and you can feel how much bigger his muscles have gotten. You've always loved his body, but damn, he was so much stronger than you and you could barely wait until you could put some of your ideas into practice. But not now; it is all about him now. So you continue moving your kisses lower, your hands now following your lips on his sides. You pause for a moment and look at him, and you wish you could take a picture of this moment and capture Mason under your control. He looks delicious and you're finally about to have a taste.

You finally obey what he says and get on your knees. When you're finally able to unzip his trousers you let out a sigh of relief . You've been waiting all day for this moment and you're going to cherish every moment. His trousers slid down to his ankles, and you start teasing him, going past his clothed erection and kissing his inner thighs, his legs opening to accommodate you better. You simply grasp at the waistband of his boxers and pull them down until they reach the ankles, just where the trousers fell. You can see his cock twitch in anticipation. You don't even have to look up to know; you can feel his stare. When you sense that he is about to beg - and you want to save that for later - one of your hands comes into a circle. your fingers loosely around his cock. You take one look at him again, staring into his eyes, as you lower ypur open mouth to his balls, and at the first lick his hand on the duvet tightened, and you moan, closing your eyes.

You love how sensitive he is to your every touch just like you are to his. You don't put any pressure on his cock yet, choosing to focus on his balls, for now, teasing him with your tongue and hand, caressing them, licking around them, sucking them lightly into your mouth. You almost miss him moaning out your name and a soft please, and you look up at him.

‘Grab my hair, Mase.’ You don't need to say it twice, the hand that was on the duvet moves, helping you keep your hair from your face so you can focus on the task at hand. You decide not to make him wait any longer and close you fist around his cock, dragging it slowly up and down once, twice, and on the third time your hand goes down, your tongue lavishes attention to the head of his cock, his taste and smell invading your senses. You sense him gripping your hair tighter and you close your eyes, sucking the head into your mouth and moaning around it as he gets louder, his hands tightening even more. You suck him a little harder and release the head with an audible noise. Your tongue goes back to his balls, but this time to lick a strip up until you reach the head again and out it in your mouth, sucking it and going down his cock as much as you can as you close your hand against what doesn't fit.

You don't waste anymore time, bobbing your head up and down slowly at first, matching the movements with your hand while the other gives some attention to his balls just like how you know he likes. Every time your mouth moves down, you suck and press your tongue against the underside of his cock, and you feel him clench his hands on your hair more and more, still holding himself back, but you want him to just let go. This time, as you suck down, you try going deeper, feeling him hit the back of your throat and you pause for a moment, reminding yourself to breathe through your nose. You slowly move your head down, taking more and more of him until your nose is pressed against his stomach and you swallow around him, feeling him deep. This time his hands pull on your hair and you moan, which only makes him pull harder, and you choke, tears coming to your eyes. He pulls you off his cock and up to kiss him, muttering 'fuck' in your mouth.

‘You're gonna make me cum like this,’ he says.

You smile, raising your eyebrow and wordlessly go back to sucking him into your mouth. This you keep your eyes glued to his, needing to see his face as you pleasure him; whenever he is going on you and maintains eye contact you feel it is too intense, but being in this position you understand why he loves to look at you like this, underneath, receiving this pleasure. You start moving your mouth faster, sucking harder, and you press down a little more, swallowing around him. You feel him pulling on your hair, trying to have you come up again, knowing he's close by the way he's clenching his thighs and his cock is twitching in your mouth.

‘I want you to cum in my mouth, Mase,’ you say as your hand keeps the movements, not stopping his pleasure. He nods, licking his lips and opening his mouth to let out a moan while his hips press up, needing more, he's so close, so you give him what he needs.

You suck him hard, no more teasing, no more going slow or careful. It gets messy and wet, you sucking him up and down and feel his thighs clench and his hands tug on your hair, his breath becomes heavier and shorter. One of his hands grabs the sheets near his hips, gripping into the mattresses he gives you a warning that he is close. Once you know he is close, you suck deeply, deep throating him, moaning around him, encouraging and making him reach his peak. You feel his cum fill your mouth and you have a hard time swallowing with him still in your mouth, so you let some dribble out as you keep the same pressure on his cock, prolonging his pleasure until he twitches.

‘Wow! I think that was the best head I’ve ever had.’ Mason manages to get out, pulling you up into his lap. You felt a bit flustered after realising what you just did, and your face said it all. ‘Don’t get all shy on me now, we’ve got a long night ahead of us,’ he winks, after realising you went quiet and found your face hiding in the crook of Mason’s neck inhaling his cologne which almost sent you to your knees again.

‘Not yet Mr, in case you’ve forgotten we’ve got an afterparty to attend in approximately 40 mins and I need to do my makeup again. Can’t go down looking like this now, can I?’ You finally speak, now getting out of your hiding spot and looking Mason in the eye, he just smiles down at you, ‘Fuck, how did i get so lucky?’ Mason lets a whisper completely disregarding your previous comments. ‘And to answer your question, No, this side of you is only for me to see. You’re an angel in the streets and a devil in the sheets.’ Mason smirks, leaving you speechless once again.

__

The afterparty was quite eventful and the entire night you could feel Mason’s lingering looks, it’s like you both knew what was going to happen when you got straight to the hotel.

And your gut feeling was right.

You had already been one orgasm down but you knew you wanted to try something different by being on top, you didn’t know how he would react but you wanted to watch him lay back and relax whilst you’re riding him.

‘You got another one in you for me, sweetheart?’ His deep, sensual voice is smooth as butter as he whispers. Hovering over you, he lines himself to your entrance and lets his spare hand lace with yours on the bed while the other gives his cock a few tugs.

‘Wait,’ your tone is stifling. You breathe as you place your hands on his broad shoulders. ‘Tonight I want to try something different for you,’ For a brief moment, you make eye contact enough to feel secure in each other's company. Your body moves slowly from under him, luring him to lie down on your king sized hotel bed with your silky sheets tumbling around you. As you straddle him, his palms caress your hips and his hand rests on the small of your back. ‘Relax for me, Mase.’ You whisper, gently planting a kiss on his lips, holding his stubbly cheek in your palm.

He nods, breath hitching in his throat as he gazes at you, your lips swirling around his fully erect cock, hand pumping him. He lets out a soft moan watching you as you barely taste him, the pre cum seeping out of his tip devoured by your sleek mouth.

Your thighs straddle him, lining his tip with your entrance on top, once you’ve primed him, his cock glistening with your clit. His cock slides effortlessly from your glossy arousal for him as you guide him inside of you, your moans threading together. Your hands clasp his chest, providing stability. You rock your hips slowly and sensually at first, giving each other time to get used to get used to one another.

‘Wait, Y/N.’ Your face drops at him calling out your name, you wondered if he didn’t want this, you were getting ready to get off his lap until Mason held you in place before reaching for the bedside table, where it had the FA Cup medal. You gave him a look at first wondering if he was instantiating what you were thinking. ‘As much as I think riding me alone is the hottest thing, I want you to wear the medal whilst you’re riding me. That would send through the roof.’ Mason says, clearing your doubts. You move your head forward so he could put it on you.

‘You can carry on now,’ he winks.

His lips utter muffled groans as he watches you bounce on his pulsating cock.

‘Tell me if this feels good, okay?’ You cup his cheek once again and plant a tiny kiss on his jaw. You let motion take control and your hips rotate in a half circle.

His cock, which is buried deep inside you, hits your end this time as you bounce slowly, grinding, and you make sure to rock your hips a little more. The sloppy sounds of the wetness pumping in and out, He moans your name in an enticing deep tone, and he is so thankful for you right now.

Mason’s hands are on your waist and his eyes are closed as you guide yourself on his twitching member, ‘F-fuck.’ he softly moans, stammers and rolls his eyes to the back of his head. Drops of sweat glisten on his forehead as you tightly grip his biceps.

‘Does that feel good, baby?’ You gently gasp when his cock hits your G-spot, hips motioning up and down now.

‘So good.’ His teeth are clenched, a whimper falling from his lips as his hands come to hold over yours on his chest. Squeezing your hand tight as you clench your walls around him, each inch of him is felt, filling inside. ‘Please don’t stop, baby.’ He bites his lips. ‘Keep going love, just like that.’ He grunts when you go deeper, tightening around him. The pads of Mason’s thumbs are digging into your skin now.

You feel Mason thrust up into you, ever so slightly, meeting your hips half way. He swiftly pulls you down flush to his chest, your boobs and the cold feeling of the medal pressed against him, so vulnerable, exposed for him, Your skin sticking to one another. His breath is moist against your lips as your forehead touches and you gaze deeply into each other's eyes for a while uttering gasps and groans that fill the air. Your brows furrow in total ecstasy as your hips continue to move sensually on his cock.

Mason’s arms are wrapped around you, holding your body close as he kisses your face endlessly, between moans. You’re a whiny mess on top of him, trying your best to focus on making him feel good.

It’s the least he deserves after the day he’s had.

The feeling of him stretching you, filling you to the brim, your clit ached to the way his cock pounds in and out of you as you move, feeling completely full. It’s a unique kind of ultimate bliss, something only the two of you have the pleasure of indulging in.

He quivers, whimpering almost as soon as you circle and rotate your hips in a different way.

‘I won’t be able to last much longer, Y/N, I'm so close,’ He trembles and shivers as your pussy moves a little bit quicker at this point, your hips curving in full motion. ‘Baby, you’re taking me so well.’

‘No.’ you groan softly, the sound of your skin slapping together loud, your ass pounding his thighs, your creamy release glistening at him. His thoughts are captivated by the way you fit him like a glove. You stop dead in your tracks and plant a kiss on his lips, your foreheads meeting as you do so.

Your fingers interlock his hair, you let out small, breathy moans, soothing him. ‘Not yet, baby.’ You sigh, nuzzling his neck. ’All good things to those who wait.’

He nods, pulling you closer, his lips parted and his chest flushed pink, rising and falling. ‘You just feel so good.’ His deep voice makes you shiver, with small groans and husky tones as you pulse him. ’So drenched for me.’

In an instant, you are rocking and rolling oh him, feeling the waves of his cock as you move up and down on it, your hand reaching out to grasp his hand again. You can feel him trembling and twitching as he tries his best to hold off cumming deep inside right at that second.

Knowing he’s close, Mason takes a hold of your hand and gradually leads it down to his balls. ‘Can you..’ His words cease, a deep groan coming to his lips when he feels your fingertips on them. You know how much he enjoys it when you play with them and how it always pushes him over the brink. You massage, fondling them whilst he skims your gorgeously voluptuous boobs.

You’re practically crying from how good it feels; how good he feels. His hands move over your body, rubbing and caressing your plump boobs as they bounce along with you and the medal. Mason considers every part of your body to be his own little piece of heaven.

Somewhere only he had the right to be welcomed.

Each inch of his cock fills you as he sinks in and out, restrained compliments for you from his mouth as he watches, a jumble of messy moans from beneath you. Picking up the pace again, you hear his groans become louder and louder, knowing he’s getting closer as you edge him, only to stop your hips again as he’s about to release. With your touch stroking his temple, you gently kiss his jaw again, quietly whispering into his ear.

‘Not just yet, baby. Hold off for me a bit longer.’ Nuzzling your face into his neck, you paint delicate love bites while moving up and down on him, his hands wandering to your ass, moaning and groaning in delight, needily in your ear.

You’re exactly what he needed to feel, sweet relief, blissfully warm, wet, and tight. He craved it more than anything at that moment. Every now and then, you gasp quietly as your pussy throbs for him; the noises only make him want more.

Sitting up straight, you now press your hands to his chest, bouncing, harder, deeper, quicker, whirling in all directions, ready to deliver the climax you both craved. Mason starts to fall apart beneath you, your skin colliding quickly and meaninglessly and your actions wild and demanding.

You move faster, ‘Eyes on me, love. That’s it princess. I wanna watch you.’ You’re giving it your all, each string of nerves inside you is pulled, you fear you’re going to snap. He’s holding you so tight, as if scared you’ll disappear, he whispers in your ear, cooing how much he loves you and how good you make him feel.

Your release streams down his thighs, squirting out as you bounce faster, practically crying on top of him. He feels so amazing, almost too good to be true, and the twitching and pulsing of his cock is divine. Each curve and vein of his huge dick digs into you, leaving you sore and delicate.

Unable to restrain himself, Mason begins pounding up into you, meeting your hips. You cry, giving it your all as you bounce quickly, clutching his bicep. ‘Oh Y/N,’ he repeatedly exclaims.

Glancing between, he notices his cock glistening with your slickness, each motion of your hips, balls practically slamming into your core each time.

‘Cum for me, Mase.’ You say whilst biting your lip. ‘Fill me up.’ Tears pricking at how good he makes you feel.

‘Together.’ Mason moans in pleasure, bringing his thumb down to your clit to stroke circles. ‘Cum all over my cock, darling. Let go for me.’ He takes a sharp breath.

Within seconds, you both reach your high, foreheads pressed hard against each other so you can feel Mason close by, hip is bouncing through your orgasms. Mason’s cock slams into you again, only slowing when he spills into you, creamy ribbons of his cum filling you whole. He stops along with your hips, buried deep inside, still throbbing as your pussy aches around him, tender, sore, and delicate.

You’re now out of breath, and Mason’s arms keep you close to his chest as it rises and falls. You open your eyes, as he does, to join your gazes, his cheek flushed pink. You giggle, kissing his lips while still panting, ‘How was that?’ You ask, wincing as his cock moves slightly inside of you as he shifts whilst still buried in you.

‘So fucking good, baby. This is the best you’ve ever given me.’ Mason kisses your palm and holds it to his chest.

You smile, knowing how well you’ve done and how good you’ve treated him.

‘Now, it’s my turn to take care of you. Just so you know, I’m not going to let you go lightly. My teasing is gonna be ten times worse, baby.’ Mason smirks.

Mason’s lips trail lower, deep purple stained marks embedding their way into your skin from his hungering lips, and you softly smile, your lips curling into the gentlest of grins, watching the way Mason loves on you so well, leaving not an inch of your skin untouched.

His fingers are deep into you, your wetness soaking his fingers. His fingers move and please. The pleasure he gives flutters over your form, resulting in pleasantly rich orgasm’s. It approaches at a slow pace at first. As the peak - that sweet spot hits, it starts to build, rising with the tide. It comes, it pours but it never truly goes away.

Your legs and clit are spread out by him. Your scent of sex yearning heat enveloped his senses; a scent Mason had stored away in the depths of his mind for longing nights spent absent from his love. His sturdy fingers held open delicate folds whilst he lightly kissed your sensitive clit. ‘All mine.’ He breathes into your pussy as he lightly pecks along your soaking folds. ‘Can’t believe you’re all mine.’ He smiles, smirking up, catching a delightful view of your dewy skin. Your fingers thread through his chocolate locks nestled in your clit. ‘Can’t believe your body is all mine.’ Kissing lightly along the insides of your thighs, marking your skin as his and only his.

Through the quiet whimpers and shuddering breaths, you whine for him, your small, dainty fingers reaching, always reaching for his soft hair. You lightly tug on his hair, the sensation of his lips adoring your skin and his strong hands gently caressing your bare thighs, sending butterflies soaring through your body. ‘Mase.’ You moan as you feel his lips curl into a smile. The sound of his name falling gracefully off your lips is his favourite sound as it makes it feel like you’re his and his only.

You are his favourite sound. You scream, whimper, spill, ‘Mase,’ over and over again. His beautiful eyes which you can get lost into forever slowly wander to yours, a smile spreading over his lips as his hand reaches out to meet yours on the frantic white sheets. His lips meet yours in a kiss that is drenched in affection as he takes your hand in his and squeezes it with confidence. Mason’s lips intertwine with yours in such a delicate and tender way that you’re left staring into his chocolate orbs while your hand clutches and fits against his, holding yours like a puzzle piece.

‘Patience, baby.’ A soft bruise appears on your neck where his lips made love to your flesh, and purple hues pour over the area as he smiles into your skin. The swell of your breasts, bare and exposed with shadowed, pebbled nipples perking just for him, was your flawlessly attractive body. With anticipation of pleasing you so perfectly, he sinks a kiss into the valley of your chest, his moist lips scattering to your breasts, a trail of delicate kisses dotting your stomach.

With his lips hovering over your clit, his fingers spreading you, languidly stroking over your clit as stifling moans fill his ears. The sweetness of your quick arousal meets his tongue in a quick wash of your sweetness.His hand reaching up to thread yours once more to your side, He dives into you and gently caressing your clit nestled between, his thumb soothingly grazes the skin of your palm and his spare hand resting on your thigh.

Mason’s tongue flicks you in a way that varies between quick and languid, enticing your tender spots and blending his tongue’s flow with your moisture. He grins at you and says, ‘Baby, you’re soaked.’ A deep groan sends from the pit of his mouth, the sounds of his mouth slicking, his nose brushing against your folds, generating jolts of warm pleasure as he happily your whole. ‘Fuck, Mase!’ You cry out as you feel him sucking eagerly on your moist, gushing folds and lapping your creamy glisten. Your weak legs spread further out for him, your hand tightly gripping his in a painful squeeze.

Right now, to Mason, nothing mattered other than your body and your pleasure.

The way he leaves you is a mess; his lips spread your slick gleam of soaking arousal all over your clit, and the creamy build up of need soaks the inside of you as you whine for him. His beard shines with your dripping wetness, and his tongue speeds up movement when you moan out his name louder than before, a routine of signal of your proximity to release he’d become much familiar with through numerous occasions of love making they’d shared with each other.

When he places his hot breath on your clit, you feel a wave of pleasure crash over your body, causing your body to tense and your toes to curl. His lips never leave your clit, gliding over your pussy as he gently guides you down from bliss. You feel like a bliss of release almost as if you were seeing stars for a brief moment. His cock lifted in response to your whimpers and groans, revealing a deep desire to be buried within the cosy and moist walls of shelter he had just made.

You laboured, your breath quickening and huffing as you let out steam from the third orgasm he’d given you within a matter of minutes.

‘You got another in you for me, baby?’ He speaks in a deep tone. You can feel a bulge of dangerously eager cock against your stomach. His lips trace up, leaving an unrestricted amount of kisses and scattering moist pecks over your naked glory, a little sheen of dewy sweat apparent on your flushed cheeks. Slow, sensual hands wander your body . Your fingers grab for him again through suffocating breaths, yearning to feel him close - so close, in fact, that you’d become one.

You feel the weight of his cock stroking your clit every time he moves, beads of pre cum pricking your skin from his thick tip. His lips are still adoring your silky skin, and he has his body positioned above you, held close by his toned biceps. Every vein in his member throbs, waiting to be taken by you. ‘Mason,’ you manage, your words lost on his lips when you meet in a searing kiss. His bites of affection litter your chin, your jaw, only stopping when you reach up to cup his face in a desperate plea. ‘Fuck me.’ You manage to get out, the throb between your weak legs intensifying, ‘Take care of me like you do, baby.’

Chuckling quietly, a delicate smirk washes over his features, his lips twisting into a smile as he leaves a final kiss to your lips. With his hefty cock in hand, he directs, lining his cock into your clit, gentle groans and breathless breaths tampering through skin on skin as his hips roll at a frustrating gradual speed.

Mason slides in, a short dip of his cock inside you, before sliding out. You cling onto him, your claws digging into the rosy fleshed skin of his back,as his head finds a home between the soft spots of your shoulders and your neck. Sliding back in, you beg him to go faster through frantic groans, the stretch of him inside creating a familiar burn you’d become used to over the years you had been with him. A soft moan escapes yours and Mason’s mouths, the sensation of you tightening around him sends shivers back. With each thrust, he plunges, burying and searching deeper and deeper inside, his bulging veins pulsating against your walls.

With every firm push and open mouthed kisses against your neck, he sinks inch by inch. The ache inside you grows;your groans becoming necessary and your gentle yelps becoming more frequent by the second.

He knew exactly what he was doing to you. ‘Fuck,sweetheart.’ Mason praises. You cry out a moan between loud, broken breaths, gripping fistfuls of the white sheets piled in a sea around their bodies, a hand caging to your mouth, muffling loud, vulgar groans that fall carelessly. Mason goes deeper and deeper, until rolled thrusts strike your end. Mason’s name comes off your mouth in a desperate plea. ‘You feel,’ he groans, clutching to your body tighter, ‘so,so good baby.’ His deep grunts rummage between your skin, demanding thrusts burying inside you with each movement, your body shivering with need, feeling the pulse of his swollen cock caged inside.

Mason’s pace quickly becomes faster by the second, with every dip into your warm haven, he showers you with praises, marking you with kisses and wet traces of his love generously on your skin.

The room was filled with the sound of your skin slapping, with each powerful plunge, a string of incoherent moans flooding his lips, The sensation of your walls milking his cock is a trance of its own. You whimper while he drills into you, jaw tightening, teeth gritting to the feel of nestling within you; his favourite place to be.His erection is stiff, tearing you open as his veiny bulk pounds in furiously, the words of praise that mist in the air pushing you into a frenzy of it own. ‘Gonna make you feel so good, princess.’ He encourages, his finger finding its way massaging to your sensitive clit.

With a swift motion, he pumps his hips and dips his fingers encouragingly into your smooth folds. You gasp when you feel this sinful touch, your head falling hopelessly to his shoulder as the sheen of his milky arousal envelops you.’Mase, don’t…don’t stop.’ You cry out feeling a wave of tears vulnerably fall from the corners of your eyes at the thought of how magnificently he fuck you.The bedframe creaking due to his demanding pace.

Your boobs move at his speed, bouncing relentlessly, his cock gleaming with your fluids, sliding with your mixture of releases interfering. Your body trembles beneath him as you cry out in a suffocating tone, placing your hands on his broad shoulders causing your figure to jolt with every thrust he delivers.

He savours each moan; he grunts when you close your walls around him, your pussy shapes particularly for him. Your foreheads brush as you stare attentively into each other's eyes, gasping in passionate motion, ‘Listen to the sound’s you’re making.’ Mason smiles, the sounds of your pussy pouring with ecstasy from his dick, fucking you so well, almost making you grit your teeth, eyes stinging. With a gaping angle, Mason’s cock hits your end deeper, and you tremble, shiver, and gush for him.

‘Mase!’ You groan out, anxiously clutching him tight, your fingernails digging into his skin. ‘Mason, please don’t stop, baby.’ Your words barely make it out as a whisper.

His cock dives within you repeatedly, the intimacy is far too intense. The pulse of his cock inside pairs with your perfectly, his tone husky, his praise loving, and his groans sweet.

You feel your core tighten, the burning stretch is unmatched, whimpering needily in his neck as he thrusts faster, quicker, harder, deeper, messier.

A burst of warm release gushes out, wet and spurting, coating his cock.

Your eyes are watering, your skin is sticky with sweat droplets , you feel hot and flushed, uncontrollable pleads and whimpers leaving your throat. Your legs spread widely and your clit is devoured by Mason’s cock, you experience a powerful and extremely strong orgasm that consumes your entire body. Mason’s cock moves at a steady speed. As he continues to drill his hips into your pussy, Mason praises you. ‘That’s it, my good girl,’ with peppered kisses to your skin. ‘Look at how you drip for me.’

Mason smirks, nibbling your neck, watching the way you moan. Senselessly, the curve of his shaft massages your sore, aching walls, leaving you delicate after your release, chasing his own.

Inhaling sharply, Mason feels his own orgasm coming close as his cock twitches through deep gasps and muffled moans. The warm, creamy wetness you’d created for him sent shockwaves of warmth, snapping at every vein in his cock and making every nerve in his body crave you.You hold tight onto his biceps, burying your face in his shoulder when he spills inside you through strings of his glossy cum.The insides of your walls are coated, adding to the milky wet haven you’d held particularly for him.

In the aftermath, your pussy aches around him.

Sensitive and sore.

Deep down, somewhere inside, you feel full, tainted by his quality, silky cum. His member is still dozing in your lush walls in the heat of the aftermath, the euphoria of the heat surrounding us contributing to soothing rides off a soaring high shared between us. Your chest heaving, parted lips, his forehead connecting with yours as his eyes flutter closed, feeling confined inside the woman of his dreams.

You’ll always be the woman of his dreams.

-

hi guys, anyone remember this?! it’s been a while and I found this in my notes so thought why not ;)