#because my brain is wired funny

[arc-ada]

I hate that anytime I feel really exited/motivated I also get kind of anxious. Like it doesn't matter that energy is positive, the energy is high and that's all it takes.

[happi-dreams]

I watched electric dreams finally !!!!!

It’s so good and odd but ohshdkebdkwbdhmehdh EDGARRR !!! EDGAR I LOVE YOUU !!!!!! ! ! ! ! YOU DESERVE BETTER !!!!!

When I saw the ending I SOBBED what the HELL,,,,,

[blueskittlesart]

i am not autistic but i do believe in their beliefs

[thegreatyin]

as revenge for all of the various atrocities veils has inflicted on the scoundrel (physical and psychological) she's decided to enact the ultimate form of revenge: walking around in broad neathlight with the worst fashion sense possible. i'm talking the WORST fabric quality in existence. i'm talking colors that clash so bad she's inventing 90s radical fashion like a century before the 90s even happen. i'm talking shoulderpads that can't even shoulderpad right. the vake annihilates her before she even makes it out the door

[abbysciutosnumberonefan]

whoever decided that my school is starting on a friday i will find you.

[loverboybrightsideghost]

reblog and say as many as you can, but AT LEAST ONE (1) thing you like about yourself/are proud of yourself for. could be this month, this year, this fucking decade. i double dog dare you. love yourself bitch 🫵🏼🫵🏼🫵🏼

[arolesbianism]

The quixote worms are encompassing me once more

[swallowtail-ageha]

In 2024 for some reason every time i have to go through physically demeaning trips (interrail, greece, now the route) my period comes which has made me master the art of cleaning blood stained underwear without leaving any traces in under 2 minutes

[afniel]

AH I REMEMBERED WHAT I WAS GONNA SAY EARLIER but it's kind of stupid, lmao.

So my partner is getting into brewing beer and I got them a Tilt, which is a Bluetooth hydrometer. It measures specific gravity and temperature, which are things you want to know so that you don't kill your yeast or whatever. Except the sensor's Bluetooth range is super short, and it basically runs via a phone app, and the temperature we're logging currently is the crawlspace, accessible via the staircase closet. So they were like, wait, what do we do about this, because I can't leave my phone in the closet, that's my alarm clock.

In a kind of ridiculous turn of life imitating art, I was like, hold up, I got just the thing right at my desk. Bam. Old phone. We just needed to scrounge up a charger because the battery is so dead that after charging just enough to power on it claimed it was at 53% (to be fair to it, there is a very real chance that it's correct, and it just holds no charge at this point so the capacity is just THAT low) and now it lives in the closet logging sensor data.

And I was like, you know...didn't I just solve a major story detail with a much larger version of this...yeah, no, this is all vaguely familiar somehow, power supply issues and all. Kind of cool that the concept works though. Kind of weird that it came up at all?

We are not gonna talk about the fact that I still have at least two more ancient-ass phones in a drawer where that came from because look, man, sometimes you just need a camera/mic/mini computer with Bluetooth and wifi that fits in a pocket, and people just get rid of these things, but not me. I actually could build a shitty security system out of them if I was reaaaally inclined. I mean. I'm not. But it's technically possible.

For real though, If I pick up any stupid maker projects I still high-key am thinking about slapping Bluetooth into a necomimi headset and running that through an Arduino and learning to code just enough to let me skip songs/change the volume on Spotify with my brain, because it's entirely doable, and I mean yeah I could do that on my phone remotely too, but that's not funny, now, is it. I'm just not sure it's $350+ of parts funny. Kind of a big investment just to prove the point that haha look I am the extremely ADHD type of lazy where I would rather solve a problem via the most convoluted and complicated Rube-Goldberg type ass machine way possible rather than just perform a single simple action.

YEAH I'VE BEEN THIS SCATTERED ALL DAY AND I REALLY SHOULD GO TO BED SHOULDN'T I. I started playing Satisfactory. Mistakes were made. I'm going to dream about conveyor belts again and I did it to myself...

[gibbearish]

like theres not a lot of games im REALLY good at so when there are ones i latch on super hard. and boy have i latched on to this one

[gregmarriage]

literally the biggest mood of all time, ms williams

[moongreenlight]

“Realistic Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley headcanons” and then it’s just the fun police.

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

- It makes me want to scoop my fucking brain out with a spoon when people say that Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is some shy, anxious soft boy. I really do not believe he’d need to be coddled after a nightmare or babied when he’s feeling angsty. He is fine, y’all. Please don’t call paw patrol.

He is a soldier. He’s a war criminal. He is traumatized to the point of numbness. He is fucked up and weird and insane and honestly I think that we should all let everybody have their thing.

I cannot fix him. I do not want to fix him. I can only make him worse.

- Sorry but I just cannot write him having any kind of romantic feelings toward Soap. I like writing their dynamic more brotherly.

Furthest they’ve gone is ‘locker room gay.’

Like Johnny sends him dick pics on occasion because he thinks it’s funny and it pisses Ghost off.

That being said, I do read the occasional Ghoap fic. I’m not a perfect person. Sometimes it’s just yummy delicious.

- Feel like he’s the kind of freak to intentionally go to the gym without headphones. Something about discipline. Opting to just stare at the wall in front of him while he’s doing cardio or counting repetitions of exercises.

But on the rare occasion that he does indulge himself, he has a playlist of like 5-6 songs he likes and when it ends he just goes back to silence. Divorced dad rock. Chorded headphones only.

- Doesn’t have the debilitating commitment issues as people paint him out to have. Just commitment-phobic. Obviously stems from his past. He’s got that sexy deep rooted fear of abandonment or something horrible happening to people he actually lets close to him. But he’s not completely turned off by the idea of romantic attachments or close friends, just a little hesitant to open himself up to that kind of opportunity.

Probably very cagey about romantic partners. Doesn’t want the guys to know about you. Doesn’t keep pictures of you around his bunk or anything like that. He’s worried it’ll somehow compromise your safety. Worried about you getting swept up in his work.

- Women’s rights? Or Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley? I really do think he’d love to have a partner who lets him provide *everything* for them. He just wants to serve and protect. Wants his bird to be in a gilded cage all nice and safe and reliant on him for survival.

Doesn’t even really like the idea of you going to the grocery store by yourself. Would prefer if you just stayed put and tended his home and cooked him meals and let him dote on you and provide everything you could ever need.

- Has a really strange understanding of technology. He’s fine with the newer military stuff. That’s his element. He can do electrical wiring, set up a TV, install security cameras. That’s all whatever. But a cell phone? He doesn’t give a shit enough to keep up with the new updates and all the new things you have to learn when you get a smartphone. Wishes he would have kept a flip phone.

Texts like this: [OK. See youtonight.]

MAYBE has a private Facebook with no profile picture where the only things on his wall are Price wishing him a happy birthday every year.

His camera roll is like; 97 accidental screenshots of his Lock Screen, a few pictures of him and the task force boys, the inside of his pocket (another accident), a sunrise, a few cool things he found on missions, 34 pictures of Soap and Gaz when they took his phone.

- Insufferable in the early stages of trying to date him. Little to no communication other than basically demanding you meet him somewhere. Texting or talking on the phone? Like pulling fucking teeth. You think he’d rather be dead.

It was a headache getting him to go out in the first place. Maybe you worked at a bar where the guys would come to have a drink after a long day. He’s a little stand-offish but he’s handsome and he knows how to banter well enough for you to be persuaded by a coworker to slip him your number after you complained one too many times about a shit hookup or yet another terrible first date. It takes him nearly two weeks to phone you.

“Didn’t think you’d call.”

“Didn’t think I would either.”

He takes you out once, you think he seems sort-of interested, then he doesn’t phone or text you back for three days. You get over it. A few more dates in. You can tell he’s a bit more relaxed. A bit more open. You’re less worried that you’re a terrible conversationalist. Then he goes on a month long deployment without saying anything in advance. Radio fucking silent yet again. You want to tear your hair out. When he finally gets back, he’ll text you something like [Atthat pub you like. Drinks ?] completely out of the blue. You think you may actually go insane.

- Once he’s gotten used to you, it’s like the sole purpose of his life is to be your protector even if you’ve only recently convinced yourself he may want something casual. You’re small and grab-able. He knows how nasty people can be and what think when they see you. He needs to know that you’re taken care of, kept safe from such a scary world.

So he’ll just linger around you. All the time. Standing behind you when you’re at the till at the store, staring down the cashier who was only trying to be friendly when they asked if you had any fun plans for the rest of the day. Big arms folded over his chest. Looming so largely he threatens to eclipse you without taking a single step forward. Eyes burning a hole into the poor person who hastily finishes the transaction without another word.

Walking silently next to you in the evenings after you’re both off work; close enough to brush shoulders, but that’s about it. Listening to you chirp on about your day. Occasionally offering a small grunt of acknowledgement or a few words of interjection. Always walks on the side of the path that he thinks could pose you the most immediate danger. Shielding you from what may lurk in a darkened alley or a hedge or a small thicket of trees.

Scary dog privilege, but like… for when you go to fill your car up with gas in broad daylight in a good part of town and he insists on standing out there with you. ‘Just in case’ If he even lets you out of the car in the first place.

- AND OFF THAT POINT. I think once he’s decided that he’s actually fond of you, it goes from zero to a hundred so fast it makes your head spin.

Like the last time you spoke, it was still unclear on if you were keeping things casual or not and now you’re at dinner and the waiter just asked him if the two of you wanted dessert and Simon just grunts “dunno. Ask the missus.” ??? He sucks so bad I NEED him.

- As much as I love an overly possessive and jealous Simon, I saw this tweet that said “My girlfriend can wear what she wants because she’s a hoe and I knew that before we started dating” and it changed my life.

He’s secure enough not to need to cause a scene if someone makes a pass on you in public. He understands that you’re attractive and that other people are bound to find you attractive too. (Not that he doesn’t still want to pull their fingernails out one by one, threatening them and everything they love for daring to exist near you. He’s just got better control over himself than that. King.)

He knows he’s better than any of your other options. Nobody else could keep you as safe as he could. They don’t know the world like he does. They don’t know how breakable you are. How sweet and naive you can be.

Not to say he isn’t overly jealous and possessive, he just won’t pitch a fit in public.

LIKE dragging him to the bar with your friends and he sits at the table with all of your drinks. Him watching you dancing out of the corner of his eye, seeing some prat come up and grab your ass in passing. Or a group of guys dancing with your friends getting a little *too* close to you for his liking. He doesn’t do anything while the two of you are out- not wanting to ruin your fun. But that night after you’ve gotten back to his flat (He insisted. Closer to the bar. Uber was cheaper.) and he’s tearing your miniskirt off like it’s personally offended him. He’ll be a little rougher. A little more liberal with the marks his mouth leaves on your collarbones and inner thighs. His strong hands will grab at the fat of your hips a little harder than he should- leaving bruises where his fingers dug in. He’ll lean over you while you’re split open with his length, snarling down at you. “Had everyone’s attention tonight, didn’t you, pet?“ “You like havin’ eyes on you?” “Greedy fuckin’ slag.” “Can’t appreciate what you have.” “Need a reminder of who you’ve got to impress.” Maybe he’ll take you in front of a mirror, massive hand fixed on your jaw. Jerking your face up so you have to look at yourself being ruined by him. How pretty and slutty you look when your makeup is ruined by the tears he’s fucking out of you.

- He calls you ‘bird’ or ‘pet’ more often than anything else. A little on the nose for how he treats you. Like you’re some small, frail thing that can’t go a day without him. Stripped of your natural survival instincts and instead leaning on him for support and comfort and food and shelter. Just how he likes it.

GOD he’s a fucking freak. Gross and mean and fucked in the head. Makes my stomach hurt. I hate him. I wish I was schizophrenic so I could vividly hallucinate him.

[luveline]

Hi lovely!

Can you please do one where Hotch and Reader are in a fight and it gets heated and he maybe raises his hand just because he’s shouting and she flinches?

He would be prepared to FIGHT whoever made his honey feel that way 🗣️🗣️

💘

for you my sweetheart. fem, 1k

cw implied past domestic violence 

“It was right,” you're saying, on the defensive, your voice molten, “it was the thing to do!” 

“It wasn't.” Hotch closes the door. “It wasn't the right thing to do, it wasn't even close.” 

You realise, under everything, that he's right, but you couldn't help yourself, you had to try and save the day, had to swerve the SUV. Plus, he's done it himself, and you both know that. “If Monikie got out of that exit we never would've seen her again.” 

“There were roadblocks on the I–46, and I don't think I have to tell you that you could've gotten a lot of people seriously hurt–” 

“You've done worse,” you deny.

His expression, broadly furious, narrows into something sharper, “And that is my decision to make, but you report to me.” 

“You can't seriously want to act like a boss now,” you say. 

The room isn't overly large, and so you stand close to one another with no need for shouting, but your voices begin to overlap. Hotch is so angry. It isn't like him to yell at you, his voice strained. 

“You can't truly think that the decision you made today was the right one. You need to calm down, and you need to listen to me when I tell you that this was the wrong move. We'll talk about it more tomorrow.” 

“You're shrugging me off?” You could laugh. “You can't be serious. Every member of this team has done the same, or worse–” 

“But they're not you!” His voice peeks, his hand jolting out in front of his chest, flat-palmed in incredulity. 

You're really quite close to each other. 

It's not his fault. 

You step back, desperate to be away from the movement, the hand, because it doesn't register as his hand, only there's a chair behind you and a table behind that and you bump into the plastic with a creak and screech. You're righting yourself as quickly as you're tripping but Hotch is already moving away. Three steps that feel like a gorge. 

Your heartbeat soars. 

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly. 

“Of course.” You breathe out funny. It's not his fault, but there's something wired in your brain now, and it knows that the first strike isn't the last. Your hand shakes as you brush at an itch under your eyes. 

“I'm not mad,” he says. 

“You sounded pretty mad."

“I've changed my mind.” He gives you a long hard look, and then he moves to the office door to open it before returning to his initial position. He's given you an exit route. “I'm not going to hurt you,” he says. 

You put your hands on your hips and bend at the waist, breathing out hard. “Fuck, I know that."

“You thought I might.” 

“So profile me,” you say, panicking still, face hot and itchy all over. “Tell me why.” 

“Someone's hit you before. Enough to anticipate the second blow.” 

“But you knew that already, didn't you?” 

Your ears get cloudy like there's water in them and you can't stand the feeling of Hotch's gaze on the back of your head. You force yourself into a standing position and try to ignore what happened. 

“You're unfairly angry with me,” you say. 

Hotch just shakes his head at you. 

“It's… It's not a big deal,” you say, quieter. He already knew because of course he did, every member of the team gets checked. You have records, and he's in a position of power unlike most, he could've read them like the morning paper. 

“Why would you say that?” 

“I can still do my job.” 

“I wasn't going to suggest you couldn't.” 

Then why… why is he looking at you like that? You're humiliated enough, and his gaze is so… so soft. So sorry. Tears gather warm behind your eyes and your chest aches like you've been holding your breath. You frown, eyebrows lifting at the starts, not knowing if you should beg him to forget the whole thing or finally give in. 

“Come here,” he says gently. Completely optional, his fingertips twitching but stationery at his side. 

You stare resolutely at your shoes. 

“I'm sorry I scared you, it wasn't my intention. I can imagine how it feels. I'm not mad, honey,” he says. His voice drops to a murmur, “Come here,” he pleads. 

You take a clumsy handful of steps and he meets you in the middle, arms going carefully over your shoulders. You'd feel condescended by it if it weren't shockingly nice to be considered in such a way, or if the solid mass of his arms around you didn't soothe. You feel protected rather than boxed in, held, and not restrained. 

His hand slides open down the length of your back.

“I'm sorry I scared you,” he repeats, for your ears alone. 

“It's not like it was really you that scared me.” 

The memory scared you. The flinch was instinctive, less to do with Hotch and more to do with the connection between a moving hand and stinging pain. 

He hangs his head by your ear until his nose touches your shoulder, and for a few seconds, it's just you and him together, no fighting, and no fast-approaching hands. 

“You didn't scare me,” you mumble, hiding your face in his shoulder instead, forcing him to stand tall. 

Incoming footsteps cut your embrace short, but he doesn't pull away too swiftly. His hands grave the lengths of your arms, and he gives you a long, loaded look. Before you can calibrate the action to the man, he's chucking you under the chin, a stroke of his index knuckle, a promise of more to say. 

He catches Morgan before he can enter the room and directs him back out. “Take a minute,” he advises you. 

You sit in a chair and do as he's offered. Memory is a tricky thing. 

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

Just a...FRIEND!?

Yandere Wally x reader x yandere dick

The rooftop was quiet, save for the occasional gust of wind and the distant hum of Gotham’s endless noise. You leaned on the railing, gazing out over the city, a carefree smile tugging at your lips as you hummed to yourself. The last rays of the sun had already dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky with a pinkish hue, and everything felt almost too perfect—if not for the two figures approaching behind you.

Dick and Wally landed on the rooftop at nearly the same time, their movements so synchronized that it could’ve been a well-practiced routine. The two of them smiled at you, their faces lighting up in that way they always did when they saw you. You turned toward them, glowing with warmth.

"Hey, guys!" you said with your usual cheerful tone, your eyes sparkling with that innocent energy that could melt the coldest of hearts. "How’s it going?"

"We were just thinking," Dick began, stepping forward, his voice smooth and teasing, "that you’re way too adorable for Gotham’s dirty streets. You’re too pure to be out here alone."

"Yeah, you need us to keep you safe," Wally added, zipping around you in a blur of red and yellow, his smile mischievous. "Can’t have you running around like a lost puppy in this city. You might get...accidentally caught by someone bad."

You giggled at their usual antics, but before you could say anything else, you innocently dropped the bombshell that would change everything. "You two are the best friends anyone could ever ask for. Seriously, I’m so lucky to have you guys!"

Suddenly, the air went still. Both Dick and Wally froze in place, their eyes wide in cartoonish shock. They blinked a few times, exchanging a glance that screamed "Did they just say that?" Wally’s mouth opened and closed, as if the word ‘friends’ had short-circuited his brain, while Dick’s expression faltered like a malfunctioning lightbulb.

"F...friends?" Dick said slowly, his voice warping as if he were testing the word on his tongue, unsure whether it was something delicious or rotten. "Did you... did you just say we’re friends?"

"F-friends?" Wally repeated, his face transforming into exaggerated confusion, his hands thrown up in mock disbelief. "No, no, no! That’s not it, [Name]. That’s not it at all!"

You blinked, utterly oblivious to the storm of emotions raging in their heads. "Yeah! You know, because you’re always there when I need you," you added, oblivious to the panic you’d just unleashed. "You’re such good friends, really. I’m lucky!"

The two of them looked at each other again, and the moment was almost comedic. Their faces drooped in unison like two sad puppies, their shoulders slumping in exaggerated defeat. Wally took a few steps back, and then dramatically fell to his knees, clutching his chest as if your words had physically wounded him. "Not friends... not friends..." he repeated mournfully. "We’re not JUST your friends, [Name]. We’re everything."

Dick’s face contorted as if he were about to burst into tears, dramatically wiping a nonexistent tear from the corner of his eye. "Everything, [Name]. We’ve been by your side for so long, and you think we’re just your ‘friends’? Just your friends?" His voice cracked at the word “friends,” like it physically pained him to utter it.

You looked at the scene in front of you, your smile still shining brightly, not understanding the depth of their despair. You stepped closer, concerned now. "Oh no, I didn’t mean to hurt you guys! I just thought... well, you’re always so funny and caring, and I couldn’t imagine being without my best friends." You reached out to pat their heads like you would a couple of puppies.

At your touch, their heads both jerked back dramatically, as if you’d touched a live wire. Dick suddenly shot up, eyes wide and glowing with an intensity that only came from his overwhelming emotions, his voice rising comically. "You can’t think of us like that!" he practically whined, throwing his hands into the air, his whole body leaning toward you. "We’re so much more than that! SO MUCH MORE!"

Wally shot up as well, his eyes narrowed with playful but pointed seriousness. "Yeah, we’re not just your friends," he said, each word stretched out like a cartoon villain. "We adore you, [Name]! We’re practically your... your... guardians!"

"But you’re also... your only ones," Dick added in a theatrical whisper, stepping closer and lowering his voice for dramatic effect, as though to make sure you understood the weight of the statement.

The two of them stared at you, wide-eyed and utterly intense, their faces impossibly close to yours now, as if they might crumble under the weight of your response. And yet... you still didn’t catch on.

You blinked again, completely unaware of how much you’d just altered the delicate balance of their emotions. "Oh, I see! You both just want to make sure I’m safe, huh? You’re really nice," you said with a cheerful grin, completely missing the thick, cloud of despair hanging over them.

The exaggerated silence that followed was the only indication that perhaps... perhaps... something had gone terribly wrong.

(A/n: I'm imagining this in classic teen Titans style animation... )

[writingwisterias]

Can you do Different eras of Leons being subby? (With GN Gentle Dom Reader) DI Leon’s expression when Maria put her boot on his face did something to me!!! I know that man has a submissive side!!! (Has been infected with wanting to motorboat RE6 Leon and slap his ass to make him moan disease, its terminal 😔)

Hi Anon!

I actually love you for this and 100% agree, like make him whimper and beg until he passes out! Send any more of these thoughts my way honestly!

Anyway I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Smut, MDNI, Sub Leon, Soft Dom Leon, Overstimulation, Orgasm Denial, motorboating 😘, Oral, Restraints,

GN!Reader (No mentions of Readers body parts)

RE2, RE4R, Infinite Darkness, Damnation, RE6, Vendetta, Death Island

RE2:

Okay so, I think Leon would leave college and start the force inexperienced in anything like this so he would assume he's dom

Like that's just how his brain is wired to think, it's not really spoken about around this time - kinks etc are more taboo

So when he meets you it's almost funny at his attempts, he's uncoordinated. Sloppy. Thrusts are like borderline pathetic

But only because he's seeking your praise, he's asking if he's doing it right. If he's in the right place, if he's going at the right pace, if it feels good

It's almost off putting with the amount of questions so you take matters in your own hands.

I'm saying like making him stop and pulling yourself away from him, only for you to push him over and take control

It's almost overwhelming for him the change in pace. He's blushing because of your sudden change in command.

It doesn't actually take long for him to become a whimpering mess, pleading you, begging you for a release.

It's like a switch has changed in his head and he just becomes this puddle

He's so aroused that as soon as he cums he's thinking about it and his dick just rises again.

By the end of it, just just covered in cum with a stupid giddy smile before falling asleep.

RE4R:

At this point he's been to a literal boot camp 👀 so he's seen some shit and heard some shit.

I'd say that he's like listening to their conversations about being a sub and whisky they are saying how much they hate it. He's eager to try it.

Again it's slightly more spoken about but it's 2005 so there's not much conversation. So he wouldn't know how to approach the subject.

Until he meets you.

When it gets around the time you both consider being intimate he's blushing as you ask him what he expects. He's questioning himself like "do I say it?"

When he does he's actually shocked to see a smile grow on your face.

It's all a blur from then, his body is slick with sweat, his cheeks are so ready from either your constant praise or degrading comments.

He's whimpering, bratty and just loving it

I'd say it's a bit weird at the point for him to be subby, he's finally got a chance to hold onto something to take control for once.

Yet he passes it to someone else

I think he's just not quite ready to actually control what happens. So when you have him covered in his own cum, commanding him to cover you in it as well.

He's putty

Infinite Darkness:

My guy is cocky...a little too cocky.

I think the relationship is a switch situation. You both have your moments.

Yours just somehow happens to be more often.

He's not arguing though.

Laying back with flushed cheeks, tears in his eyes as he watched you play around with his flushed tip. Sucking him completely dry until he's shooting blanks

Should teach him for running his mouth I suppose

I think he's more inclined for slightly freakier stuff, I'm talking restraints etc

The idea of being at your complete mercy and not being able to do anything about it because of those damn handcuffs.

Because you do it so often it seeps into his brain and he finds himself still seeking your guidance even when he's meant to be Dom that night

Asking you what you want and where you want him to touch you, waiting for your approval to do so type of thing

Damnation:

So he's still cocky but this is where his personality starts to harden and he loses his spark.

I think he would try very hard to stay dominant, he thinks that's what is right. It's a role that suits his newer personality, until he meets you.

When he meets you, all these walls he's built up are crumbling down. He starts to loosen up and you sorta just slide into his life

He respects you for it, so I don't think he would be bratty towards you in anyway despite his off tone to everyone else

It would be like a "I hate everyone else but you" or He'll be shouting at someone in one moment you appear and he stops

In bed I think he would be demanding from what he wants from you, like where you should touch him, what he needs, how close he is

I would say it's more of just a need to have some control over what he wants to do. Not full control just a slither

It's more like he just wants to be respected and actually given a choice. I think the conversations would be like "so you want this today or this?" Giving him two options for how the night should go.

RE6:

Now hear me out, he's the bratty era of them all.

I'm saying that you actually have to lean more into a rough Dom instead of a soft Dom because of how much he pushes your buttons.

Open to anything, he's just needy and desperate for a fuck

Prefers blow jobs, he would rather cum in your mouth with you glaring up at him because you didn't give him permission than anything else

After China though I think he would come back different.

He's just experienced an event like what just started it all so he's going to be very shaken up. It's almost weird to you when he returns like this

Then he would be so quiet, just silently getting lost into the pleasure and intimacy of you both.

You would have to check with him a lot more during this, reassuring him you are there and all that.

Hand holding!

He's extra sensitive so I would say you could probably milk multiple orgasms from him in one night.

Vendetta:

Okay so he's a mess, like his head is everywhere but the what he's doing. Not focusing on anything, constantly drunk. Like he's just a mess

So beat him into shape (not literally)

I'm saying like he is actually just incoherent after what you have done with his.

he's covered in his own cum.

Literally thrusting towards a single finger of yours if you touch his cock.

He's also slightly pudgier after losing himself to drink and not working out as often so grab them tits.

Nipple play is randomly a huge turn on for him suddenly.

After the events of vendetta as well I'd say he's got a new look on life so when he comes home there's a slight spring in his step.

Leading you both trying out new things in the bedroom, your sex life having a new spark.

He's still big on passionate love. Wanting you to be as close as you can to him at all times, cuddle sex is a new norm.

Death Island:

At this point in time he's chilled out, happy and at peace.

I think he takes on smaller missions, meaning he's home more often

Would like to surprise you when you get home, I'm talking like being patient in bed waiting for you to get back if he wakes up with morning wood.

Would literally spend all day with a boner until you get back

But yes you mentioned Maria fighting him and he smiled so therefore he's big into manhandling. I don't make the rules

Hes agile, you could move him any way you wanted and he just accepts

Probably part of the reason he is still so agile because you are constantly stretching him out. Don't worry about not being strong enough to move him, just tell/guide him and he'll do it himself

He can also take a beating so don't be afraid to be rough with him.

Loves seeing all of your marks all over his skin, even more so if they are over the top of old scars.

[kitasuno]

( ᐢ..ᐢ )⋆.ೃ࿔*･ thank u guys for all the love on my writing recently <3 there is nothing i love more than reading ur comments and reblogs !! tysm !!!!!!

anonymous asks are now open too. i swear i had them on but i just figured out my inbox today!

i thought i would share some brain rot i still have from my last suna fic, to be loved is to be known:

in the fic, suna was so surprised when you mentioned that atsumu gave you the courage to confess to kita because… atsumu was his #1 wingman!!!!

he’s definitely not stupid, and also very aware of reading people (or maybe just reading you) but all his common sense flies out the window when u mention liking kita

but when u bring up atsumu… the little suna brain-cells in his head REVIVE. fucking EXPLODE and his cogs start to turn.. and he’s like… wait a minute….

i mentioned that suna smells like blackberries and i was specifically thinking about the blackberry and bay cologne from jo malone! here are the notes from the official website:

Childhood memories of blackberry picking...A burst of deep, tart blackberry juice, blending with the freshness of just-gathered bay and brambly woods. Vibrant and verdant

(it smells so good btw. trust. trust me. suna smells delicious. i swear)

suna doesn’t mind little spooning

mobile gaming degenerate. twitter degenerate. likes wearing slides out and oversized zip up hoodies, he finds regular hoodies kind of annoying

suna reminds me of the song, fukakoryoku by vaundy

still uses wired apple headphones 4 the aesthetic

yes the family mart that suna and you frequent is in the middle ground to ur houses… yes he likes famichiki… no he doesn’t like the sausages but you’re obsessed with them so he says he loves them

idk if u guys know but family mart on twitter has these giveaways where if you retweet their post you have the chance to win a coupon or a free snack/food. and they choose like 10,000 people for winners! so when family mart drops a chance to win free sausages… suna makes.. 100 twitter accounts… to join the giveaway…. (yes this means 100 emails) (yes he is crazy) (yes he is free)

and yes ur on his private twitter. and suna private tweets about YOU on his PRIV bcuz he’s a LITTLE SHIT. so when u check ur phone after he confesses to U and u had lied and said u liked kita he does the whole Going Dark thing on twitter. tweets shit like this and thinks it’s so funny:

thank u guys again for indulging in my writing<3