#been a bit too long since I got one of those

[onekmaway]

(giving this blog some love 💚)

Rich. men. 🗣️

when he approached you and proposed the idea of being his sugar baby, you thought it would be those cliche stories

but those stereotypes were quickly thrown out when he said that he wanted to be the one taking the backshots 💔 telling you that for every orgasm he have, 10 grand (maybe more) would be inserted into your account ❤️

ofc he takes you to lovely dates outside of the bedroom too 🥰

-🌹

Rich. PATHETIC. men. 🗣️

Imaging you're a college student, your studies having drained you of life, you barely get sleep, and not to mention- you're broke, barely getting by, and not to mention, you had student debt too. But one day, you're scrolling through some dating app (that down bad, huh?), and suddenly gotten a match by some guy- it seems you two had a lot in common (or you simply lied), though, he was older- hell, almost old enough to be your dad, but hey? A pull is a pull- at least he was hot. And after a few dates, you started to like him, though, mostly because on each date, he paid for everything, and I mean everything, which... you did not mind, not at all- hell, you were too scared to even look at the bill, seeing that most of the places you two visited was fancy or expensive at least, so you weren't complaining- it wasn't like you two didn't hit it off, and he was happy enough to pay for all of you expenses.

One day, when you were visiting his penthouse apartment (yeah, he was that rich), and jesus, it made your dorm room look like a cubby, the view was nice too. While you two were drinking a bit, talking and what not- it got quiet, till you heard him ask: "Would- would you mind being my sugar baby?" He asked, making you just pause- god you were a bit scared of him asking this, why else was he spoiling you so much? But god, you were too broke, so pushing your pride away, you agreed. After a month or so, being his sugar baby, it was... well, smooth, he hasn't asked you to do anything, well, maybe a kiss here and there- and hell, he paid for all of you school debt, so that was a plus, you were allowed to live comfortably again. That is till one day, when he invited you to his penthouse, it started slow, talking, and then it turned into kissing, which was slow, passionate- till it turned hungry, needy even- this was the moment you dreaded, when you pulled away, trying to subtly telling him that you weren't really the type to take it up the ass, and that you were kind of a virgin in it- to which he simply chuckled, almost laughing out loud "Wait- no, no, no- I don't want to fuck you- I want you to fuck me" When he said that, you could feel some relief leave your body, but then it turned into a bit confusion- he, your sugar daddy, wanted to be fucked? "Look- I get it, I... probably didn't make it much clear, that, I apologize for... you probably thought I was like- this super dominant CEO type or something?" He asked nervously- everything made sense to you now, the way he acted around you, making sure you well and satisfied, staring at your arms, your muscles, each time you wear a tight shirt or tank top- the fact that you only realized now made you feel a bit dumb "So... will you fuck me?" He asked, bringing you back to the present, the situation finally dawning on you- and like that, you were balls deep inside of him- his hands holding the pillow like a lifeline, your hands gripping his hips oh so tightly as you bounced him back on your cock each time you thrusted inside of him, and god, those moans and groans coming out of his mouth was like a melody- despite him having told you it's been a very long while since he got fucked- he was taking it so well, like he was just made for your cock

His hole was gripping your cock so nicely- much better than the chicks at your college, their cunts pale in comparison of how his walls wrapped so nicely around your cock, "Oh- fuck! I think I'm close, please" He would moan out, his hole gripping your cock even tighter (if that was even possible), moaning each time your cock reached that one spot, that is till you slowed down a bit- wanting to prolong the pleasure just a bit longer, "Oh- fuck, please.... don't edge me now- not now, not when I'm so close" He whined out, pushing his ass back against your hips, trying to get you to fuck him faster again, and after torturing him just a bit longer- you began to fuck him faster again, a moan of delight leaving his lips, gripping his pillow harder as you fucked him into the bed. Now after all of that, he was spent- he knew sleeping with someone younger would drain him, but god, he was much more drained than he thought he would be- and you weren't even tired... yet at least, you were trying to find your boxers, confused where you threw it, he just reached for his bedside drawer lazily, digging around it till he found what he was looking for "Here... buy something nice for you... you made me cum after all" He mumbled out before just simply throwing his wallet at you, practically limp on the bed

Yeah, you could definitely get used to this

[hsnlv]

soft beginnings | s.jy

pairing: dad-to-be!jake x mom-to-be!reader

synopsis: you and jake are getting ready for your baby, but jake’s full of doubts about fatherhood. with plenty of laughter, love, and tiny socks, you learn that even the smallest moments can mean the world.

warnings: fluff!, jake has self-doubt but it’s adorable dont worry >< reader is pregnant if that is not clear (i love pregnant tropes actually because it’s cute hehe)

wc: 1.1k

a/n: ive been writing a lot lately since im currently on semester break but enjoy ^^

jake sat on the nursery floor, holding a pair of impossibly small socks between his fingers like they were some kind of alien artifact. his brows were furrowed, lips pressed into a pout that you would’ve called adorable if he wasn’t so deadly serious.

“okay, babe,” he said finally, holding the socks up for emphasis. “these cannot be for a human. i don’t care what you say.”

you couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing from your spot on the rocking chair, where you were sorting through a mountain of baby clothes. “jake, they’re for a newborn. they’re supposed to be that tiny.”

he squinted at the socks like they might reveal their secrets if he stared long enough. “nope. sorry. these are for a hamster. or maybe a very small rabbit.”

“are you calling our baby a rabbit?” you teased, grinning as you leaned back in the chair.

“i’m just saying,” he continued, waving the socks around like he was making a grand point. “what if their feet don’t fit? what if their toes are too big? i don’t even know what baby feet look like!”

you laughed so hard that tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “you’re ridiculous.”

“i’m serious!” he insisted, though the twitch of his lips betrayed him. “what if i try to put these on and they just… fall off? or what if i lose one? it’s not like i can run to the store and ask for replacement jellybean-sized socks!”

that did it—you dissolved into giggles, your belly shaking as you leaned forward. “jake, you’re going to be fine,” you said, wiping your eyes. “i promise, putting socks on a baby isn’t as hard as you think.”

he flopped dramatically onto his back, groaning. “i’m not ready for this.”

“you are,” you said, crawling over to him and sitting on your knees by his side. you rested your chin on his chest, tilting your head to look up at him. “you’re going to be the best dad ever.”

he gazed down at you, his expression softening, but you could still see the hint of doubt in his eyes. “you really think so?”

“i know so,” you said, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his face. “you’ve got the dad jokes down already. the rest is just practice.”

he groaned again, dragging a hand down his face. “yeah, but what about the important stuff? like… like making bottles. or changing diapers! do you know how many straps and tabs those things have? it’s like trying to assemble IKEA furniture!”

you snorted, pressing your forehead to his chest as you laughed. “it’s not that bad.”

“it is that bad,” he said, sitting up suddenly. his hands flailed a bit as he tried to explain. “and what if i don’t wake up when the baby cries? or—or what if i hold them wrong? what if i drop them? oh my god, what if i don’t know how to swaddle? they’re gonna hate me.”

“jake.” you placed your hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “take a deep breath.”

he inhaled shakily, his wide eyes locking onto yours.

“you’re not going to drop the baby,” you said firmly. “or hold them wrong. and even if you mess up the first swaddle, or it takes you a few tries to get the diaper right, it’s okay. you’ll figure it out.”

he didn’t look entirely convinced, so you leaned closer, your voice softer now. “do you remember when we first got peanut?”

he blinked, his brows furrowing. “our dog?”

“yeah. you were so nervous about training him. you kept googling everything, and you were convinced he was going to hate you because you couldn’t get him to sit on command.”

jake huffed, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “okay, yeah, but peanut was a little menace at first.”

“he was,” you agreed, grinning. “but you didn’t give up. you were so patient and sweet with him, and now he listens to you better than he listens to me.”

jake let out a soft laugh, his shoulders relaxing a bit.

“it’s going to be the same with the baby,” you said, brushing your thumbs gently over his cheekbones. “you’re going to love them so much that none of the little mistakes will matter. and they’re definitely not going to hate you for struggling with a diaper or two.”

“you sure about that?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

“absolutely,” you said, smiling.

he sighed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. “what would i do without you?”

“probably drown in a pile of tiny socks,” you teased, laughing softly.

“you’re not wrong,” he muttered, but he was smiling again.

you both sat there for a moment, the quiet hum of the nursery filling the air. then jake pulled back slightly, his hand drifting to your belly.

“hey, little one,” he murmured, his voice soft and warm. “just so you know, your mom’s the best person in the world. so if i mess up, she’s gonna make sure you’re taken care of. and if you could, uh… maybe go easy on me with the diapers, that’d be great.”

you laughed, swatting at his shoulder. “stop making deals with the baby!”

“what? i’m just saying!” he said, grinning.

he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your belly, murmuring something too quiet for you to hear. when he sat up again, his eyes were brighter, his usual spark returning.

“okay,” he said, grabbing the tiny socks and holding them up like a trophy. “we’re definitely framing these.”

“i knew you’d come around,” you said, smiling as you kissed his cheek.

the rest of the afternoon was spent folding onesies and arranging books on the shelves, with jake tossing out ridiculous questions every five minutes.

“what if the baby doesn’t like my cooking?”

“jake, they’re not going to eat anything you cook for at least a year.”

“what if they cry every time i pick them up?”

“then you’ll hold them until they stop crying.”

“what if they call me ‘dude’ instead of ‘dad’?”

“then they’re definitely your kid.”

by the time the sun dipped below the horizon, the nursery was mostly finished. the crib stood in the corner, draped with a soft, pastel blanket, and the bookshelf was packed with stories you couldn’t wait to read aloud.

you stood in the doorway with jake, his arm around your shoulders as you both took in the space.

“it’s perfect,” you murmured, leaning into his side.

“almost perfect,” he said, resting a hand on your belly. “just missing one thing.”

you smiled, your hand covering his. “they’ll be here soon enough.”

he pressed a kiss to your temple, his voice filled with quiet awe. “soon enough,” he echoed.

and in that moment, surrounded by love and laughter and the promise of something even sweeter, you knew your little family was already complete in all the ways that mattered.

[hxlxnaaa]

𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞

★ synopsis: workaholic marine biologist discovers a new species that was only believed to exist within stories. while heavily focused on her new groundbreaking research, she tries to figure out her feelings for her shiny new toy.

★ character: rafayel

★ cw: first-person pov, merman rafayel, a bit of angst towards the end but nothing too crazy

★ word count: 3.7k

★ a/n: as a former marine bio major, i got to nerd out ab fish and raf (yay!!), set in main storyline era, but reader is obviously a biologist and not a hunter (raf is also not the sea god in this). tried to stick to lemurian lore, but kinda threw my own stuff in too. sorry if the ending seems a bit rushed, i lowkey tapped out, but overall i'm pretty proud of this!!

It was moments like these that made me love what I do.

I was in the pool room of the facility, a dome with towering window walls, and a large circular pool in the middle that connected to the sea outside. It was mainly used by me, and I was fortunate enough to be the only one with access, as I was the only field expert in the facility. I worked hands-on with marine life, collecting samples that I would send to the lab upstairs.

In the early mornings like these, I could finally just take a breath before starting my day and watch the sunrise all around me. Watch the way it would slowly illuminate the room, reflecting off the water that rippled with the morning wind. I could feel the weight lift off my shoulders because sunny, clear mornings like this made the stress of work worthwhile.

Not that I’d rather be anywhere else.

I checked the pool, seeing what creature may have found its way in. To my dismay, it was just another handful of mackerel that had probably gotten lost from its school. That’s all it’s been lately, a few strays from the euphotic zone. The bottom of the pool was an open hatch leveled with the sea, since the lowest level of the facility sat directly in the water. When motion was detected, the floor of the pool would close off, trapping whatever got caught inside. If I were lucky, maybe it would be a cute sea turtle or a shark, but those days were rare.

Disgruntled, I opened the hatch that had closed, setting the mackerel free. Inwardly I prepared for another boring afternoon, praying for another field work day when I could actually go out to sea.

-

Coming back from grabbing coffee from the breakroom and a few more test tubes from the lab upstairs, I made my way back to the pool room. From inside, I heard a loud groaning.

“OWWWW.”

Frantically I key carded my way into the room, the doors sliding open to reveal a strange man in the pool.

I stood frozen in place, not sure what free diver could have possibly found his way in, and… Why was he shirtless?

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help me?” The man glared.

I learned from years of working in the sea to stay calm and assert dominance, so striding forward with as much grace as I could muster-

My jaw dropped.

The man had odd markings painted on his skin and face, in intricate beautiful designs. He was clad in golden jewelry, draped with a chiffon sash. Despite being fresh out of the water, his dusty purple hair was nearly dry, and I was sure he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. There was something otherworldly about him, not like anyone I had seen before.

That was when I noticed the tail.

It was amazing, and I screeched with joy. The iridescent blue scales matched the ones on his cheeks and neck, and it had to be as long as I was tall.

The man leaned against the bars on the pool, narrowing his eyes at me. “Your stupid machine hurt me.”

I stared at him laughing with excitement, “What are you?”

“Did you hear me? I said I was hurt.”

My eyes traveled over him, he didn’t appear to be hurt or even in much pain. He held out his hand, adorned with gold bangles and painted nails, “It pinched my finger.”

I shook my head, “Sorry, sometimes it malfunctions. It’s supposed to have a safety mechanism so fish can’t get caught in the doors.”

“Yes, well, you need to fix it.”

Whatever this man was, he had an attitude problem.

“I’m going back to my first question,” I circled the pool like a predator with its prey. The man-fish thing followed me with his eyes, and I stopped back in front of him. “What the hell are you?”

He rolled his eyes, “I think that’s quite obvious. I know humans aren’t that stupid.”

Stunned, I continued to stare at him. Of course I knew what a mermaid was, everyone always told stories of the ancient Lemurians, but that’s all it was. A story.

Yet, here in front of me, was a man with a fish tail.

Excitement continued to bubble up inside me and I started clapping my hands with glee, “Oh my gosh this is perfect. You’re perfect.”

He raised an eyebrow at me, “If I’m so perfect can we get rid of these prison walls? What are these even for anyways-” As he started to rattle on the bars.

“They’re so the fish can’t beach themselves when I’m not here,” Opening the gate so I could sink down to his level, I took off my shoes so I could sit on the ledge. Grabbing his face in my hands, I turned it side to side, observing closely the glitter of his scales underneath my fingers, “Your skin is so cold, yet you have hair…But you have scales… Are you a mammal, or…”

He smirked at me, taking my grabby hands away from his skin, “Y’know you could at least take me out to dinner first.”

I frowned, bothered with the interruption of my observations. Standing back up, I moved away to start grabbing collection and testing kits, “Can you hop up where I was please? Or will you need assistance? I have a sling-”

“I can do it.”

Watching as he pulled himself up and out of the water, biceps flexing as he lifted himself, I wondered how a fish could possibly get that ripped.

I sat down beside him, “You have no obvious gills…”

The man scoffed, and I put on my stethoscope. I placed it over where, if he had them, his lungs would be.

“Deep breath in,” Watching as he took an inhale through his nose, and listened as his lungs took in a breath of air.

“Lungs.” Confirming my thoughts.

Placing the drum over his heart, I realized his heartbeat was racing.

“I don’t understand-” He started, before I placed my finger over his lips.

“Shush, no talking.”

We sat there like that for a minute, before I pulled away, “120/60, is your heart rate usually that fast?”

Glaring at me, he crossed his arms, “No, I just don’t usually have random girls assaulting me.”

As I pulled out different test tubes, I rambled out questions to him that were mostly just thoughts in my head.

“Where did you come from? How do you speak English? Where do you live?”

“First of all,” He shunned away at the sight of a needle, “my name is Rafayel. Since you haven’t even bothered to ask.”

“Secondly, I came from the sea, duh. Didn’t even mean to get caught in this stupid thing…” The man winced as I pricked his finger, and I laughed, “Well you sure are compliant for being ‘assaulted’ by a stranger.”

“I have no choice! You have all these weapons for poking and prodding! Anyways, I speak every language, it comes from being Lemurian-”

I stopped, “You’re Lemurian?”

He rolled his eyes, “I thought the tail would’ve given that away.”

Silently I continued to work, thinking less about the fact that a real Lemurian was in front of me, and more about how this would affect the studies of the sea and marine life as a whole. More than 80% of the sea is unexplored, and the idea of Lemuria being part of it opens up a whole new doorway to the future of research. Not only that, but the fact that Rafayel was relatively eager to comply.

He watched me with his galaxy colored eyes, that seemed almost as wide with wonder as mine were. We seemed fascinated with each other, and maybe that’s why he was so calm about all of this. It’s not every day you’d let a stranger go full blown crazy scientist on you.

“Am I going to learn anything about you?” His question startled me, and it hadn’t even crossed my mind he knew nothing about me. My only focus had been on discovering who and what this creature was.

“Oh, I’m sorry, that’s my bad.” I introduced myself, and told him about my work as a marine biologist. He let me gripe about the lack of interesting catches in the pool as of late, and how my passion lies with whales.

“I don’t get to go out into the field often,” I explained, “but when I do it’s always the best. Being able to dive, and being out at sea for a few weeks studying the bigger or deeper animals we can’t get in the pool.”

“What about when you’re here?” Rafayel looked around the room as if it was an interesting enough place to work. To him, this probably seemed more fun than exploring the place he’s lived his whole life.

I sighed, “I’m never not here; but I mean, it’s fine I guess, it’s just you can only collect so many samples of the same few creatures before you get bored.” Smiling at him, I ran my fingers through his hair…

“That’s why you, my dear, are my new muse.”

-

To my surprise, Rafayel came back after that. I half expected him to just disappear, deeming me crazy and warning his fellow Lemurians about ‘that one weird marine biologist’. I’d kiss goodbye the breakthrough of research he could’ve given me, and go back to slaving over the same boring fish every day.

The next morning, he was in the pool bright and early, his head sitting in his crossed arms on the ledge.

He smiled when he saw me waltz in, “You’re here early.”

“I always am,” I shrugged, “do Leumrians not sleep?”

“Sometimes.”

We quickly slipped into a routine. He’d show up in the early mornings, and stay with me until I went home that night. Even if I ran out of samples to collect, waiting for lab results, he’d perch himself up on the ledge with me and watch me read old textbooks about old Lemurian history, or anatomy books about different kinds of marine mammals.

Rafayel would snatch the Lemurian books out of my hands, “You know, I can tell you everything you need to know.”

“Yes, well, you’re an unreliable narrator.” I’d grab the book back.

Though he had a tendency to exaggerate, I really did enjoy all the stories he would tell me; his tail in my lap as I’d compare it to previous studies I had done on scales, he’d go on about Lemurian people, boasting about the beauty of the city and explaining their culture. I’d sit and nod, humming responses as I carefully analyzed him.

I believed Rafayel kept coming back because he simply loved being doted over. Some part of him got off on the attention, seeing the way my face would light up when I put pieces of the puzzle together, grabbing his face in my hands with excitement.

“Raf this is amazing news!” I’d laugh, squeezing his face with one hand, shaking lab results in the air with another.

“I don’t know what you’re on about…” He’d say through smushed cheeks, but his eyes would twinkle and defy his feigned annoyance.

Sometimes, if I ran out of things to do, he’d use his ‘magical Lemurian powers’ (his words, not mine) to lure in some different creatures, giving me extra stuff to send to the lab upstairs. One day I had been giving a bit too much attention to a stingray he had summoned, and Rafayel started sighing from the other side of the pool.

“What's wrong now?” I asked, not even looking up at him, focusing my attention on extracting the stringer from the stingray's tail.

He sighed loudly again.

This time, my eyes met his, and he flopped down onto his back, pouting dramatically. Once I had gathered everything I needed, and set the poor creature free, I walked over to where Rafayel was still laying on his back, displeased.

He looked up at me through his eyelashes, and quickly turned his head to the side, “If I’m your muse then why are you giving so much attention to these random fish!”

Crouching down by his head, I poked his cheek, “You’re the one who summons them for me.”

“Well if this is the case, then I’m not gonna help anymore!” Sticking out his lower lip, Rafayel side-eyed me.

“I’m ever so sorry for doing my job, I shall never give another fish attention again besides you.”

He smirked, satisfied with my response.

Rafayel was always like this, oddly infatuated with me and jealous. He seemed pleased I didn’t have much of a social life outside of work, as my only focus was him. Often, he had a habit of prying into my thoughts, asking a million questions about myself. Some were simple, like where I went to school and what kind of music I enjoyed. Others were questions I never even thought about.

“How do you see your future?”

I snapped my head up from my book to look at him, “I’m sorry?”

He stared right into my eyes, almost as if he was trying to read my mind, “What do you see yourself doing in the future?”

“I don’t know, working probably.” I tried to shrug off the question.

“Do you ever want a family?”

“I don’t think I’d have time.”

“Well, you seem to have plenty of time for me.”

-

After that, I noticed a lot more how his eyes would follow me. How he’d rest his hand on my waist as I’d bandage him up from blood collection. The prolonged eye contact, the longing smiles, how his cheeks and ears would turn pink when I’d call him my muse.

To quote Rafayel simply, “Humans aren’t that stupid.”

I knew. I mean, I’m a scientist, I had a fair amount of common sense. Even though I spent most of my time with fish doesn’t mean I don’t know when a man likes me.

It’s not like I wasn’t attracted to him either, it would be impossible not to be. Rafayel is beautiful, just like the world that surrounds him; he’s the sea, the absolute personification of my first love. He’s spunky and brave, sassy yet kind, and despite my immediate joy about him regarding the future of marine research, it’s gone so far beyond that. My care for him has ascended past study and data, into a place I was scared to approach.

What was I supposed to do? Keep him in my bathtub for the rest of my life? A swimming pool in my backyard? This was work, this was business, this is the future; nothing is going to get in the way of that. Not my stupid feelings, nor his.

In the evening, before I was getting ready to go home, I was taking one final look at Rafayels scales on his face and neck.

“They’re so beautiful…” I muttered under my breath, inches away from his face. His scales were what fascinated me the most, despite it being the least interesting fact I had discovered about this humanoid. Somehow, a mammal having scales like this was utterly enchanting. Tracing the way they were engraved into his skin, he opened one of his eyes to look at me.

“Do you want one?” Rafayel asked.

“I wouldn’t want just one, I’d need enough to make a necklace.” Softly smiling, I playfully picked at one of them.

“Have I told you the Lemurian tradition of giving up one of our scales?”

“Mm, briefly…”

He tilted his head forward, as if he were telling me top secret information, “When we give one of our scales to someone, it bonds us for life. An eternal love that traverses through anything, whole universes.” Both eyes open now, the look in them told me I already had been given thousands of his scales.

I pushed his head back with one of my fingers, “You’re already bonded to me for life, at least until I can figure you out.”

Rafayel leaned towards me again, and I grabbed his face,

“Hold still.”

He frowned.

-

“Rafayel~” Walking into the pool room I sang out to him like usual, only to find the pool empty.

After nearly a year of seeing him every single day, for the first time, he was nowhere to be seen.

My heart sank, was it because I had rejected him?

I sat by the pool, filled with mackerel, and just waited…

And waited…

And waited…

I watched the sun begin to set through the large windows, covering the room in an orange glow. Rafayel always had a habit of complaining about the way the sun would shine in his eyes, but would quickly quiet down as he saw me stare out at the sea longingly; there was so much love in his eyes I thought it might suffocate him if he didn’t let it out.

I guess he finally had enough.

Tears threatened to pour as the sky turned dark, the room only lit up with the light of the moon.

Frustrated, I cursed him under my breath. How dare he ruin this for me? How could he let his own feelings get in the way of the bright future I had made for marine research? I wanted to hit him upside the head for giving me all of this information and data, just to up and leave, leaving my study on a cliffhanger.

How could he leave me?

The next day, for the first time in years, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to get out of bed. Let alone go to work. I hated him for making me feel this way, for breaking down my walls so much that I was ready to give up the only thing I had going for me.

I went anyway.

Walking up to the doors of the pool room, I thought about just turning around and going home. I was going to waste my time with a school of fish that I had already collected hundreds of samples from, when I could just go back to my bed and rot, grieving the future of science and my broken heart.

Just as I was about to turn on my heel and leave, I heard soft singing from inside, a voice I recognized easily.

Practically breaking the doors open, I ran inside.

Sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, reading a textbook as if nothing was wrong, was the man I wanted to strangle with my bare hands.

He looked up at me, frowning, “You’re late.”

Once the adrenaline of seeing him wore off, I noticed where he was.

Outside of the pool, in a chair, with no help, with…

“Legs!” I screeched, exasperated.

“Yeah, okay, good to see you too I guess.” Rafayel scoffed, going back to the book. This time it was my turn to snatch it out of his hands.

“Rafayel, this changes everything! All of my studies!” I put my face in my hands, shaking my head.

“That's what you have to say about this? I don’t show up to try and play hard to get, and this is what I get?” He glared at me, “You didn’t even miss me!”

“Why didn’t you tell me you could grow legs!”

“I was trying to humor you!”

I threw my hands up in desperation, pacing back and forth. Rafayel started mumbling something in a language I didn’t understand, clearly mad.

“Is that all I am to you?” He spit out at me, like his words were acid, “Some science experiment?” I shot my head in his direction, narrowing my eyes, “You know as well as I do that’s not the case.”

“If that's not the case, then why are you doing this to me? Acting like you care and there’s something here, then putting your walls back up. Am I just being manipulated for your work?” Rafayel stood up, peering down at me, “Just some testing animal that you keep here in your tank?”

“Raf…No…Of course not.” I promised, seeing the look of hurt in his eyes made my heart squeeze in guilt. Tracing the painted marking on his cheek, I noticed the scales on his face and neck were nowhere to be seen.

His demeanor quickly switched at my touch, grabbing my hands in desperation, pulling them to his chest and clutching my fingers over his heart.

“I don’t care.” Rafayel stated.

“What?”

“I don’t care what you do. You can have me for life; study me, use me, publish me for the world to see, I don’t care. I just want you in return.”

He fell to his knees, holding his hands tightly on my waist. Looking up at me with a pleading look in his eyes, Rafayel started muttering what I could only make out to be a Lumerian prayer I had read in one of the textbooks, “Please.” He cried.

“Rafayel, just stand up.”

“Please.” He repeated.

I stared down at him, “Raf-”

“Please, no, just say you want me. Say you’ll have me. Open this door, I know you’re scared, but I’ll figure it out.”

“Rafayel.”

“Put your trust in me. I’ll give you all my scales, my blood, my life, please, be mine, I’m already yours; be mine.”

I fell to my knees with him, smashing my lips onto his. Tangling my hand in his hair, the other clutching onto his sash, I felt like I was trying to kiss the life out of him. I wanted to merge my soul with his, I wanted to be a part of him, climb into his skin, breathe his air into my lungs. He tasted like the salt of the sea, his lips warm compared to the cold of his skin.

My walls crumbled, and with his hands on my skin, I realized nothing mattered more than him. No more research, no more work, just him.

I loved him so much, I could cry.

‘How do you see your future?’ He had asked so long ago.

With you, Rafayel.

Just you.

(divider by cafekitsune)

[scary-grace]

(secret) santa, baby - part 9 of a shigaraki x f!reader fic

Shigaraki doesn't want to participate in the office's Secret Santa exchange, but when Toga promises to make it easy on him, he gives in. But making it easy for him makes it a lot harder for you -- you're the one who got his list. Office AU, no quirks. A fic in 12 parts. Divider by @ wcnderlnds

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi part vii part viii

part ix (snowed in)

When Tomura gets back to his desk, there’s a present waiting for him. Tomura’s Secret Santa doesn’t need REMEDIAL GIFT-WRAPPING, which means he can rule out anyone who was there as a suspect. Tomura peels open the wrapping paper and finds a pair of gloves – and a note. With the gifts, there’s always a note, and the notes have been getting longer. Whoever his Secret Santa is, they have more to say to him than they used to. Tomura’s weird enough that he likes the notes almost as much as he likes the gifts.

Dear Tomura, this one reads. I know I’m off-list again, but I saw these and they reminded me of you. A lot of the things I see remind me of you, but I think you’d be freaked out if I bought you most of them. I kind of want to ask Toga to ask you what you think of what you’ve gotten. If I’ve missed something obvious. Or if you’ve thought of other things you’d like since you made your list.

Tomura’s thought of other things, yeah. The problem is, he’s usually only thought of them after he’s opened a gift from his Secret Santa that has one of those things in it. Whoever his Secret Santa is, they’re good at this. Better than him, even if he knows how to wrap presents now. He keeps reading the note. I’d like to say I got the gloves in advance, but if I’m being honest, they’re extra. I saw the storm in the forecast and I thought about how cold it already gets down in the basement. I can think of better ways to keep your hands warm, but this is probably the most practical. Merry almost Christmas! Yours, your Secret Santa.

The gloves are lightweight when Tomura puts them on, but warm and soft on the inside – and they’re touchscreen gloves, so Tomura won’t have to take them off to use his tablet or his phone. They’re exactly right, just like all the other gifts Tomura’s Secret Santa has gotten him, but even as he folds the note and tucks it away in the same place he’s kept the others, he keeps getting stuck on the idea of other ways to warm his hands.

It’s fucking freezing in the basement, and it’s empty, even though it’s technically still work hours. Did everybody else just bail after the gift-wrapping thing?  If nobody else is here, Tomura’s not sticking around, either. He packs up his stuff and heads upstairs. Maybe he can get home before this storm or whatever it is kicks up in earnest. But when Tomura gets to the lobby, he finds out that he’s missed his window. The sky’s already darkened, and the parking lot is already covered in a layer of snow.

Tomura waited too long. If he hadn’t stuck around to wrap gifts with you – but even as he has the thought, he realizes that he doesn’t regret it even a little bit. It’s worth it, even if it means that he has to trudge through snow to the train station. You take the train home from work, too, don’t you? Tomura knows you had more work to do after the two of you finished the gifts. You told him so. What if you’re still here?

Your part of the office doesn’t have windows. Maybe you haven’t seen what the weather’s like. Tomura turns away from the front doors and heads back into the building to give you a heads-up.

You look surprised to see him, when he gets to your desk – but you aren’t unhappy. “Hey. Did you find, um – what are those?”

“The gloves? Secret Santa gift.” Tomura looks around your desk, trying to see if the gift he left you is anywhere. “Did you open yours?”

“Do you like them?”

“I’m wearing them.” If Tomura didn’t like them, he’d have put them in his desk and forgotten about them. He spots the stapled-shut paper bag he left for you this morning sticking out of your backpack. “Do you not like opening yours in front of people?”

“I was saving it so I’d have something to open tomorrow,” you say. “I heard somebody say that the office might be closed because of the storm.”

The snow. Right. There was a reason Tomura came up here, and it wasn’t just so he could see you again. “It’s already snowing. We should go now if we don’t want the trains to stop running on us.”

You look surprised. “You came to get me?”

“You take the train, too,” Tomura says. He doesn’t get why you’re looking at him like that. “We can walk together.”

“Okay,” you say. You smile at him, and Tomura’s face flushes badly enough that he actually considers covering it with his hands. “I’ll get my stuff.”

The weather looked bad when Tomura was just watching it through the doors, but once the two of you actually get out in it, Tomura realizes that it’s even worse than he thought. It’s the stupid wind. It keeps changing direction, blasting snow and ice crystals into his face no matter which way he looks, and the hood of his coat won’t stay up. His ears are freezing, even though his hair is covering them. It’s not a long walk to the train station, but Tomura knows he’ll have a splitting headache by the time he gets there.

“Here.” You’re wearing a hat and a scarf, and you take off the hat and offer it to Tomura. Tomura tries to say no, but you put it on him anyway, tugging it down over his ears. “I’m not the one who hates the cold.”

You’re right, but something about it strikes Tomura as weird. “How’d you know I hate the cold?”

“Everybody knows that.”

Tomura’s pretty sure everybody doesn’t. If they did, he’d get a lot more ironic let-it-snow shit from his friends around Christmas. There’s only one place you could have heard that, which means that you either know who his Secret Santa is – or it’s you. “Where did you hear that?”

“Sorry?” You’re rewrapping your scarf, pulling it up over your face. “Couldn’t hear you. The wind is really loud.”

The wind is loud and it’s getting worse. Tomura can ask you again once you’re at the train station and out of the weather. “Never mind. Let’s go.”

You and Tomura started out walking side by side. By the time you approach the train station, you’re walking pressed close together, your hand grasping Tomura’s arm, Tomura leaning into you as much as he can without falling over. Part of him feels stupid about it. You’re not fighting your way through a blizzard or something. The rest of him is too happy with it to care. His ears are warm and he’s wearing warm gloves that he got from his Secret Santa who might be you, and you decided you wanted to hold his arm without him doing anything. In spite of the weather, Tomura can’t count this as anything but a win.

The station platform is empty when you get there, and Tomura feels a hit of foreboding even before he sees that every arrival screen is flashing the same message. “Out of service?”

You fumble your phone out of your pocket, almost dropping it. “They just shut down. We missed it by five minutes.”

Fuck. “We can’t stay out here,” Tomura says, and you nod. You don’t have gloves. Your hands are shaking. “We should go back to the office.”

“They have to keep the heat on so the pipes don’t freeze,” you say. “And we can probably get the lights back on even if Maintenance turned them off.”

Tomura’s pretty sure Maintenance left before the two of you did. You were the last ones still in the building. Everybody else left because of the storm, and if Tomura had just left instead of going back to tell you, he’d have been on the last train home – and you’d have been stuck at the office in bad weather, by yourself. Tomura doesn’t like thinking about it. He doesn’t like thinking about it so much that even if he’d known for a fact that going back to get you would have meant he’d be snowed in with you, he’s sure he’d have gone anyway.

He waits for you to put your phone away, then grabs your hands in his gloved ones. “Do you want your hat back?”

“It looks better on you,” you say. There’s nothing on the planet that would look better on Tomura than on you, and Tomura almost says so, except the way you’re looking at him is enough of a distraction that he can’t get the words out in the right order. “Come on. Let’s get back before it gets worse.”

It’s already worse on the way back. There’s more snow on the ground and more ice crystals whipping around in the air, and Tomura’s shivering on every step. You aren’t walking with your hand on his arm anymore. This time you’ve got your arm wrapped around him, even though you’re shorter than he is, holding on tight as the two of you shuffle along. Tomura wants to get inside and out of the wind more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life. And at the same time, he’s dreading the second when you’ll let him go.

<- part viii part x ->

[gejo333]

Under the Mistletoe with You

Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary: Enjoying the holiday market with Miguel.

Enjoy!🎄

Wc: 1.2k

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You breathe warm air into your hands, trying to keep them warm as your worn-out gloves are not helping. You happily listen to the holiday tunes playing, people watching in Columbus Circle at the holiday market, and feeling jittery from the cold and the butterflies in your stomach waiting for Miguel to arrive. It has been over two months since your first date, and everything has been perfect. Even though neither you have declared to make it official, you have high hopes of it leading in that direction soon.

A sense of comfort and warmth washed over you as strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you into a broad chest. You felt a pair of lips against your cheek as he gave you a hello kiss.

You turn around in his embrace as you get on your toes and return the sweet gesture on his lips. "Hi, mi amor. I'm sorry I was running a few minutes late. I hope you weren't waiting for me too long in the cold."

Your cheeks redden from what he called you. He had never called you anything except your name before now. You notice the grin on his face as he notices your reaction to his words.

"No worries. I only got here a few minutes ago. But I didn't realize how cold today would be, so I'm a little underdressed."

You notice his concern as he takes your hands in his large hands and blows hot air into them to help keep you warm. He frowns when he notices your worn-down gloves.

"How about we go to one of those igloo tables at the bar to warm up? I reserved one for us. And then we can walk around and look at the shops?"

"Sounds perfect!"

He smiled as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders to keep you warm as you headed to the bar.

As soon as you entered the igloo, you were relieved to be wrapped up in the heater's warmth.

"Feeling a bit warmer?" He smiled as he sat down next to you and brought his chair closer to you.

"Much warmer. It feels nice. Thank you, Miguel." You lean forward and kiss his cheek in thanks, but immediately, his fingers gently move your chin as his lips meet yours. Once you pulled away, you couldn't help but feel your heart pound out of your chest as you saw his loving and slightly lustful gaze with a wide, happy grin.

After stealing a few more kisses from each other, you choose your drinks as Miguel goes back outside to get them.

It took him a bit longer to get your drinks, which worried you, but your relief rushed through you once you saw him come back with them. When he entered, you noticed a small bag hanging from his wrist. Sitting down, he passed the bag to you with a happy expression.

You return his smile with an added confused expression. "What's this?"

"I saw something at a stand while waiting for our drinks and wanted to buy it for you." You smile as you open the box to reveal beautiful black leather gloves. Your heart glowed from his sweet gesture. You put them on and were instantly comforted by the soft cashmere against your skin. 

"I love them, Miguel. They're beautiful. Thank you." You give him a kiss, which he happily returns.

After sharing sweet sayings and catching up about each other's day, you decided to leave the warmth of the igloo tent and enter the slight chaos of the Christmas market.

One of the first stalls you visited was handcrafted ceramic china from Spain. A row of colored bowls caught your eye as you stared at them in awe. After checking the price of one bowl, your excitement lowered when you realized how expensive one bowl was. You still had to buy gifts for your family and friends. And Miguel. With how tight money has been lately, you knew getting it wouldn't be wise. You sighed sadly as you set the bowl gently back in its place before thanking the store owner and leaving.

"Everything ok?" Miguel looked at you with concern as you saw your slight frown. You smiled up at him in reassurance. "Yeah, I am. I was just a little bummed that those bowls were so expensive. They were so cute. Maybe I can get them next year if the shop is here again."

As soon as you finished your sentence, you were whisked back to the booth by him as he was holding your hand. You stood there dumbfounded as Miguel told the shopkeeper that he wanted to buy one of the bowls in every color you liked: four different bowls. When you came to your senses, you walked right up to Miguel's side.

"Oh, Miguel, you don't need to buy these for me. I'll be ok. You don't need to spend any more on me."

"Nonsense. You liked these bowls. And I want to buy them for you. Especially if I get to see that amazing smile that captures my heart." Miguel handed the shop owner his credit card before smiling lovingly at you.

"How did I get so lucky finding such an amazing man like you?" You wrap your arm around his bicep and hug him. You get on your toes and kiss his cheek.

Miguel leaned down to whisper in your ear."I'm the one who got lucky in finding someone as perfect as you."

As you walked around more of the market, a random man in an elf costume shouted happily at the two of you. "Pucker up, love birds. You're under our surprise mistletoe!"  

You and Miguel stop before looking up and seeing the over-the-top mistletoe hanging above your heads. You look back at each other as your cheeks redden from Miguel's smirk.

"I guess we should appease the elf." He chuckled.

"I guess we should." You giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck. Miguel wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against his warm chest before capturing your lips into a sweet, loving kiss.

When your lips separated only centimeters apart, he said, "I love you, y/n."

Your eyes widen in surprise at his words, and your smile widens before you capture his lips again and say, " I love you, too."

3 years later

You chuckled at the framed photo of the two of you from that day at the Christmas market on the bookshelf. Then, you glanced at the adjacent picture from your wedding day, captured just two months ago.

You felt strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against a warm body as you felt lips on your neck.

"Dinner is almost ready. Can you help me with bringing the dishes to the table?" He mumbled against your neck as he kissed you.

"Of course." You giggle at him, tickling your neck with his stubble. As you walk toward the kitchen, Miguel grabs you by the waist and stops you right under the doorway as he points up. You look up to see a mistletoe in the middle of the doorway's frame. You smile at him with an arched brow as he sends you a mischievous smirk before dipping you and giving you a passionate kiss.

"Merry Christmas, mi amor."

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I hope you enjoyed it!🎄

[injvns]

if words were flowers - zhong chenle

wc: 478

notes: based off the title of the curtis harding song :P enjoy!!!

if words were flowers, chenle would give you them all.

you don't know how long it's been since he opened his mouth, but it's been quite a bit since he shut it. 

he started off showing you clips of the latest golden state warriors game, raving about steph curry, then it went to how basketball has been going for him personally, to how if he had his own team he'd make daegal the mascot, and now he's planning a picnic date with you and daegal.

"do you think we could bring those chocolates you like or would that be too risky?" chenle's got his notes app open, writing down his groundbreaking picnic ideas, "ooh! or maybe i can get the macarons from the place in town instead!"

he looks so proud of himself as he backspaces to replace the words 'chocolate maybe??' with 'macarons from that one place.'

you can't help but smile at his excitement, it amazes you how chenle never lacks the imagination to keep endless conversations. words flow out of him like petals in the wind.

he hasn't stopped rattling off ideas, you honestly think his brain runs at least 20 miles faster than his mouth can keep up with. you also think it might be time to finally cut him off.

"babe, we can have a picnic whenever we want, slow down." you reach out to grab his phone from his hands, "figuring out all the details doesn't need to be done today."

he turns to you in sync with the taking of his phone, "but i was on such a roll.."

"and i'm sure you can get your groove back whenever," you put his phone on the table beside the couch before quickly turning back to him, "your thoughts are kind of endless, lele."

he scoffs, "you know you love my voice, don't even try to deny it." the sentence ends with an overly dramatic eye roll.

"i do love your voice, but i also hate you so they cancel each other out." you shrug nonchalantly as you say it, though your grin is anything but.

"then i guess i just have to talk so much that it overpowers the hate." he copies you, shrugging casually, but eyes smiling brightly.

"i guess you do," your head falls onto his shoulder, a content sigh leaving your lips.

chenle has never been one to stop talking around you, or at all. it's like his brain is running at full speed while his mouth is on autopilot, and today is no different. you can feel the vibrations of his voice as he talks, head rested where his neck meets his shoulders. it's relaxing, lulling you into a sleepy daze, but you'd rather die than give up listening to the soothing tones of chenle's voice.

if words were flowers, you'd cherish every single blossom chenle gifted you.

[whateverisbeautiful]

Do you think Rick ever attempted to tell Michonne how he felt about her? I wondered if he tried and got scared or someone interrupted them. How do you think Rick trying would have gone?

I really like this question too! I can absolutely see there being moments where Rick wanted to tell her how he feels and maybe even came close to before something stopped him. Since in TOWL he admitted he didn’t know what to do about being in love with her for a while there, I think those mints ended up being pretty important in helping him finally figure out how to let Michonne know how he feels about her.

This post actually feels like the perfect place to put my Part Two of what I think happened with Rick and Michonne during that time jump between No Way Out and The Next World because I address this question some more in my play-by-play. So this is Part Two - what I think happened in that time jump to make Rick and Michonne be like this the next time we see them in 6.10 ⬇️💗:

As always, my extra self has to start right from where they left off in No Way Out, which includes one of my favorite TWD episode endings when Rick speaks to Carl and then Carl ever-so-lightly takes his hand.

I’ve always loved the staging of that scene too with Michone holding Judith right outside the room. It’s such a visual confirmation of the family unit they are. And I can envision that when Rick notices that Carl took his hand he calls Michonne in to tell her about Carl’s movement and they're really happy and relieved and it’s a moment where it’s pretty hard to ignore how much the two of them feel like a mom and dad. 

So then I’d think that Carl probably has to stay at the infirmary for a certain amount of time for Denise to monitor him in the earliest stages of his recovery. And Rick and Michonne visit every single day to be with Carl and help look after him. I feel like the community probably agreed that after NWO, Rick needs a little break from leadership so that he can focus on tending to Carl. So during this time, others step up around the community while Rick and Michonne have a lot more time to tend to Carl and be at home with Judith. I think spending all that time together really tightens Rick and Michonne’s bond even more.

And one of the biggest things I’m convinced we were robbed of seeing during this time jump is the increase in Richonne’s physical touch. I think Rick and Michonne got a lot more comfortable with showing affection through touch during this time. Nothing blatantly romantic of course but like those little low fives or nudges on the couch. They start doing those types of touches a lot more often. Along with ramping up the flirtation and the little glances that suggest this dynamic isn’t nearly as platonic as they’ve tried to act like it is because there’s some real yearning and desire evident during this time.

I can picture that there’s one night where maybe Michonne puts Judith to bed while Rick is downstairs putting away dishes and then on the way to her room they both just end up sitting on the couch and staying up late talking - something they subconsciously might have been more hesitant to do when Carl was in the house prior considering the whole son’s best friend/best friend’s dad thing. But while Carl is still in the infirmary, they end up feeling a bit more comfortable to spend this time together at night. And those nighttime chats then become a staple part of their daily routine that Rick and Michonne both really look forward to.

Like it’s so a part of their routine that even when they’re tired after a long day, they go to the couch instead of going to bed because they want to make sure they still get that time to decompress together.

And I think their conversations just flow so easily and they operate so organically as best friends, while also knowing it’s getting harder and harder to act like all they are is best friends. Especially when Rick decides to officially remove his wedding ring during this time - something I imagine Michonne did notice.

I feel like Judith also starts really clinging to Michonne like a mom during this time. Like I always love it when the baby who plays Judith reaches for Michonne during that 6.10 scene on the porch and even sounds like she says Michonne’s name. I always like to think that Judith feels so bonded to Michonne by that point.

And maybe Rick and Michonne even like to make predictions on when they think Judith will start crawling as they often like to smile over watching her "practice" on the baby monitor during their nighttime chats.

I can picture that on one of those nights, Rick thanks Michonne for saving his and Carl’s life when Ron had that gun on him and notes how she’s saved his life quite a few times and he feels like he owes her. And she’d tell him that he doesn’t owe her and again the silence after is so clearly her “because I love you and you’ve given me a whole family” but she doesn’t say all that and Rick doesn’t profess his love yet either. They just let the nice moment be. 

So then there’s the portion of time when Carl can finally come home and Denise teaches Rick and Michonne what they’ll need to do with Carl home, like how to wrap his bandages and do physical therapy. With Carl home, I picture that Rick and Michonne get a good routine going of how to take care of him and help him during this time of adjusting to his new life with one eye. It's all just even more confirmation that the two of them parent and operate like a well-oiled machine.

Some days are smoother than others because I think Carl would understandably have some days where the recovery is frustrating for him. But Carl is a fighter too so overall he’s resilient and keeps a good spirit during recovery. And Rick and Michonne try to make things as smooth as possible for him and they’re able to lean on each other when it’s hard or emotional to see Carl struggling. They’re both just so grateful Carl is alive. 

I think the four of them would have family dinner together every night and Carl can even peep that the bonding Rick and Michonne have done lately is so clearly because they’re into each other. Like I just know that the look Carl gave Michonne the morning after she was with Rick has to do with Carl being like I knew I was picking up on the right vibes in this house all this time. 😂

In my mind, I imagine that Michonne is best at changing the bandages so she often is the one who does that for Carl in the mornings. I think one of those mornings she’s getting ready for the day and realizes she’s out of toothpaste. So, wearing her robe and towel, she initially is going to ask Carl to borrow his before bandaging him but then she sees Rick’s bedroom door is open so she just asks him.

And Rick does have some toothpaste left and gives it to her while trying very hard to just seem casual about her showing up in her robe the first time lol. But he’s definitely not mad at the sight he sees. 😋

And then soon it just becomes a thing for Michonne to borrow Rick’s toothpaste in the mornings during their family's little morning routine.

Rick and Michonne still of course want to contribute to the community so Rick starts going back out on those runs with Daryl and Michonne takes on some guard shifts at the gate. Once again, I think Daryl is observant that Rick has been real cheery lately and he knows that, on top of the good news of Carl surviving and the community proving they’re capable of surviving too, it’s whatever Rick has going with Michonne that plays a big part in why he’s smiling and snapping to music on their supply runs.

I also think on Rick and Daryl's supply runs, Rick would always somehow find ways to bring up Michonne in their conversations - because he’s a man in love. And Rick thinks he’s bringing Michonne up casually and subtly but it’s not either of those things to Daryl lol. But again, Daryl mostly keeps those observations to himself, even tho the thought "if this idiot doesn't make a damn move on her already" likely crossed his mind at minimum three times.

There was a time when I would have thought that maybe Rick never outright told Daryl that he had fallen for Michonne pre-canon. But honestly seeing the way Rick is a guy who can wear his heart on his sleeve at times, I wouldn't be surprised if maybe he did open up to Daryl more straightforwardly about how he's in love with his son's best friend and doesn't exactly know how to best proceed. And Daryl is a man of few words but I'd imagine that even the few words he'd offer up about the situation would be somehow helpful or reassuring to his brother.

And then, even with Carl home, Rick and Michonne definitely still continue to have their nighttime chats between just the two of them. Even tho now maybe sometimes Carl will come downstairs for water or a snack and be like 'you guys are still up talking?' 🤭

I do think there could have been one night where they were talking and laughing, and everything in Rick wanted to just tell Michonne how he feels and even lean in and kiss her. Because again, he’s aware during this time that he’s in love with her.

Like maybe there’s a moment where Michonne even asks about why he stopped wearing the ring, sorta like how she asked Carl why he stopped wearing the sherrif hat in season 4. And Rick is about to say something about how it didn’t feel right anymore to wear the ring while he’s in love with someone else and he’d turn that into the moment he tells Michonne how he feels about her…But I bet they do have something that interrupts his chance. Like maybe Judith starts crying or Carl or Daryl walks into the kitchen or something so they sorta have to just let the moment pass again.

While Michonne would have reacted really positively to Rick professing his feelings for her at any point during this time jump, I think the actual timing of how Richonne got together ended up being perfect for them. After all the build-up of their slow burn, I think it’s better that their first officially romantic moment didn’t have to be a whole conversation but rather them just leading with their hearts and being passionately in the moment, rather than Rick perhaps directly telling her he’s fallen for her and maybe nervously adding something like “if that’s too much right now I understand” like the talk they had in 4.11. 

But I think these unseen time jump exchanges where Rick hoped to “find his moment," is also part of why Rick had that look that he had just before he kissed Michonne in 6.10. In that scene, I always feel like he looked at her like I think this might finally be my uninterrupted chance to kiss her and oh wow she looks like she wants me to.

I also feel like some of Rick’s hesitation to make a move before 6.10 was because he really didn’t want to potentially ruin what they have now by moving too fast or escalating in a way that Michonne may not want. So I think he just decided in his mind that if ever she gives the green light then he won’t hold back in letting her know how he feels, but he’ll wait until she’s comfortable enough for that. 

Until then, he’s just loving all their little exchanges throughout the day. And Michonne loves it too. She’s also aware she’s fallen in love with him by this point, but Rick is her best friend’s dad and they have such a good thing going as a family that I think she too is hesitant to make her feelings known and find out if it’s mutual. So like Rick, she's working up to it. Especially with Deanna’s final words to her ringing through her mind often during this time - “What do you want? Now you go figure it out.”

But one morning, Michonne remembers that she still doesn’t have toothpaste of her own so she goes up to Rick’s room to borrow it like she normally does. However, this time he’s all out too. And so is Carl.

All of them being out of toothpaste ends up being a blessing in disguise tho. Because fortunately, this is also the same day Rick very intentionally finds the perfect minty alternative. 😌

And those mints lead to Rick and Michonne finally acting on all the blatant love, desire, and sexual tension that they’d been steaming up the house with the last few weeks. 

And that’s my 'little' detailed play-by-play of what I think life was like for Rick and Michonne during that very impactful Season 6 time jump. 👌🏽😊

Also, I had said in Part One that this Part Two would possibly be less lengthy, but I checked and this one is longer than the first. 😅 They were just too fun to write and imagine. Thanks for reading them! I really do appreciate each person who takes the time to read my thoughts. 🙏🏽💕

[brownsugaboba]

title: “The Tension Between Us: Fluff version. “

december 22th, 2024.

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nanami kento x reader.

- black reader. (anyone can read but emphasis on black.)

- fluff. (anyone can read. [does include kissing and touching above surfaces.])

- possessive.

—————————————————————————————

the evening at gojo’s dinner party was supposed to be just another casual gathering—one of those party’s where everyone knew everyone, and the atmosphere was filled with laughter, music, and the occasional ridiculous comments from from gojo himself.

but for nanami, the evening was anything but typical. he found himself more distracted than usual. his focus was entirely on you, watching you laugh and engage with their banter. this wasn’t unusual in any matter, you looked stunning, of course. you always did, but tonight—tonight, something was different.

it was something about the way your smile lit up the room that made his chest tighten with an unfamiliar feeling: possessiveness. this wouldn’t be the first time he’s felt this emotion, however this wouldn’t be the first that he couldn’t control it.

it wasn’t that he minded you laughing or enjoying yourself, but when he looked across the room and saw gojo leaning in, speaking just a little too close, or toji flashing a knowing smirk as he blatantly checked you out—and haibara gazing along your backside for too long.

he couldn’t ignore the simmering irritation building up inside him. he felt his grip on his wine glass tighten until his knuckles turned white. he couldn’t control it.

toji was flirting with you. that was clear. while gojo was being his charming self, which nanami learned to handle. they weren’t being overtly inappropriate, but the attention they were giving you was unmistakable, and they both had a way of making you laugh louder than he ever could, and it drove him insane to see it.

nanami couldn’t deny that a bit of jealousy stirred inside him every time you smiled brightly at their jokes. it wasn’t that you weren’t his wife, but the way they made you feel seen—almost like they were trying to steal your attention from him—made him feel possessive in a way he’d never been before.

unable to ignore the tightness building in his chest, nanami leaned over to you as you sat beside him at the table. his body calm, hiding the frustration he was feeling beneath. he placed a hand on your naked back, since your dress was backless. his touch cool, but his fingers were a bit firmer than usual.

“sweetheart, are you ready to go?” he asked, his tone polite but lacking the usual warmth.

you turned to him with a raised eyebrow, confused by his sudden change in demeanor. “already? it’s still rather early.”

“i think it’s time,” nanami replied, his voice a little sharper than he intended.

you looked up at him, sensing the tension in his posture and the quiet anger in his eyes. but instead of calling him out, you simply nodded, giving gojo, toji, and haibara and everyone else at the table a polite smile before standing up to follow him.. wondering what could be bothering him so much and already coming up with solutions to fix it.

—————————————————————————————

as soon as you two got in the car, the silence was suffocating. nanami’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. you could feel the tension in the air. he was angry—very angry—but he wasn’t saying a word about it.

he usually was never like this, so dealing with it would be a bit difficult.

you glanced at him sideways, noticing his jaw was clenched so tightly it looked like it might break.

it wasn’t like him to be so quiet, so brooding, especially when he was upset. he was usually more open with you, but tonight, something had shifted, and you had a feeling you knew what it was.

“nanami,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “you have to talk to me when something’s wrong.”

he didn’t respond immediately, his fingers tapping irritably against the wheel as if trying to keep himself from losing control.

of course you picked up on his cues and could since his anger; you were his wife after all. finally, after a long, tense moment, he spoke, his voice tight and controlled.

“i don’t like the way they were looking at you,” he muttered. “haibara, toji… they were all over you, laughing with you, touching you—entirely too much.”

you blinked, taken aback by his blunt admission. “they’re just friendly nanami..” you say softly.

nanami’s eyes flicked to you for a brief moment before returning to the road. “friendly or not they shouldn’t be flirting with you like that. it’s rude and uncalled for considering you’re married.”

you sat in stunned silence for a moment, trying to process his words. you then took a deep breath, trying to calm him down. “you’re completely correct honey.” you pause for a second, trying to think of a solution. “maybe we should talk to them-“

“you’re not talking to them again,” he snapped, the tension in his voice rising. “not tonight. it’ll only upset me more.”

you could feel the anger radiating off him, but you refused to back down.

your voice was firm as you spoke. “you can’t control what they do, honey. you can’t control everything. the most we can do is talk to them about it, and hope they change in their actions.”

after hearing your words, he knew you were right. but he didn’t fully allow himself to realize that just yet. nanamis grip on the steering wheel tightened, his jaw clenching harder. “i don’t like feeling like this. like i have to walk away from situations like this. they should just simply know how to act around married women, around you.”

you exhaled slowly, your voice softening, but there was an edge to it now. “this possessiveness has to stop baby, you can only control yourself.”

the car sped up slightly as nanami pressed the gas harder, the tension thick between you. the last thing he wanted was to fix it your way. all he could think. about were their eyes on your again, trailing your body.. that was the last thing he wanted.

the way he was driving told you everything you needed to know: he was still bothered, his mind racing, and he didn’t know how to let go of the grip he had on you—on everything.

when you two arrived at your home, nanami turned into the drive way before turning off the engine and getting out the car. though he was still upset and angry, he couldn’t allow himself to take that anger out on him being a gentleman.

he walks to the passenger side of the car and goes to open the door, holding his hand out for you to take as you carefully got out of the car. you hold his hand as you two was to the front door together. you can’t help but keep your eyes on him, wondering if the conversation in the car helped at all.

once you two walked inside and before you could say anything, nanami turned to face you, his eyes filled with a bit of frustration and something else—something deeper. he gently let go of your hand and crossed his arms, his muscles tensing as he stared at you, trying to hold back whatever was swirling inside him.

“you want me to be honest, honey?” he growled slightly, and you nod your head keeping your stance.

he tries to keep his composure, but the words came tumbling out before he could stop them. “i hate it when you laugh like that with them. i should be the one making you smile like that.”

you stood there for a moment, digesting his words. a part of you wanted to smile and laugh at his jealousness, since there was no reason for it. you wanted him, and only him. but the other half of you wanted to pull him into a deep embrace and kiss his negativity away.

“honey..” you whisper, your voice a little softer than before. he noticed how your dark eyes are more gentle than usual, and how you take a few steps closer to him. your hands ready to touch him into a much calmer state.

he shook his head once he realized what you were doing. you were trying to get him to relax, to calm him down with your words. your touch. it worked every time.

his shoulders relaxed involuntarily, his anger slowly ebbing away, though the intensity in his eyes still simmered.

“no sweetheart, i know what you’re doing..” he whispered back and looked away from you, his eyes not being able to stay put on your the beautiful features of your face. your dark shimmery skin in the light of the foyer, the few coils of hair that you left out of your slick back bun, and the gentle upturn of your lips at the corners.

he wanted to step away from you, to be angry, but his body not didn’t allow him to. he wanted to feel you. he needed to. however his words of his insecurities soon did. “i just want you to see me in that way; fun.” he said quietly, his voice suddenly soft. “i just… i don’t like feeling like i’m not enough.”

you take another step forward and reached out finally, cupping his face gently in your hands. “you’re more than enough, you’re mine.”

“you need to stop comparing yourself baby, and you really need to stop trying to control how other people act around me. otherwise you’ll end up like this.”

his gaze fully softened as he leaned into your touch, and looked back into your eyes his hands find your waist. the tension between you two was still there, but now it felt like something else.. something he could work through—something he could conquer himself..

“ill talk to them, sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling you closer and closing the gap between you both, his lips brush against your forehead. “i just… i get possessive. i don’t want to ever lose you or do anything wrong.”

“i’m not going anywhere without you,” you said softly. “but you have to trust me and yourself. you have to trust us.”

nanami’s lips found yours then, a soft, lingering kiss, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper. as the kiss deepened, his eyes closed and he pulled you closer, his hands finding their way down your waist and along your backside, urging you closer against his warm embrace.

and for a moment, there was no tension, no jealousy—only the quiet understanding between you both, and the certainty that no matter how possessive and insecure he became, it was because he loved you. and he was willing to work through his emotions.

you close your eyes as well and arched your back just slightly once you felt his hands go to hold onto your ass. you let out a soft moan against his lips as the kiss continued, which only made him begin to grip at your backside; hoping for more struggle from you throughout the kiss.

and struggle was what he received. you let out another moan as you struggle to maintain your breathing. nanami notices this and can’t help but groan and push his tongue into your mouth a bit deeper, teasing you now.

you being your hands up to his shoulders and hold him tight to keep your balance as you slowly pulled away from the kiss. you open your eyes as you continue to breath heavily still, you chest rising and falling with each breath.

“nanami, are you teasing me?” you ask him with a smile as he continue to catch your breath.

he opens his eyes and they linger down your face, to your neck, and finally your chest as it rises. he couldn’t help himself, it was getting harder and harder for him to stand here and do nothing to the most stunning piece of art that landed into his fingerprints.

“absolutely.”

fin of the fluff version.

—————————————————————————————

19+ version here.

note: i also didn’t read this over before posting.. it’s just been sitting in my drafts and i wanted to get rid of it. so if there are mistakes, close your eyes and shake your head a few times and they’ll disappear..

thank you.

[heich0e]

OMG osamu and the best friends to lovers series!!!! i love them soooo much <333

ask game: a christmas drabble from an established AU AU: bff!osamu series

"looks like santa's workshop had some serious budget cuts this year."

you snort as you stretch up on your tiptoes to hang an ornament on the tree, glancing over your shoulder towards the door of onigiri miya—whose bell had just chimed to signify a new arrival to the cozy little shop. atsumu stands in the doorway, hands on his hips as he looks around at what you've spent the better part of your afternoon on: festive decorations hanging from one wall to the other.

osamu's never decorated the shop for the holidays before—at least not more than maybe a little string of lights or a snowman doodle on the menu board, but you'd begged and pleaded with him to let you get your hands on his precious shop to work your holiday magic. osamu's never denied you anything, and he wasn't about to start now.

atsumu whistles lowly as he takes in the fruits of your labour. it's not much, but you'd had a lot of fun making the space a bit more festive, and you're pleased with the results. atsumu looks over at you.

"y'know he's not gonna pay ya fer yer labour, right?"

you drop back down to your normal height, laughing lightly as you cross the room towards your childhood friend. "i'm surprised he didn't make me pay him to let me do this."

atsumu ruffles your hair once you get within reach, pulling you under his arm to tuck you into his side.

you've always loved christmas, ever since you were little. it's not a holiday that gets too much attention in japan, not like in the west, but you've always been enamoured with the twinkling lights, the decorations, the atmosphere of it all.

you've spent every christmas for as long as you can remember with the twins.

it was largely at your behest—insisting that the boys indulge your whims and thirst for holiday cheer. as kids, you'd gather at one of your houses and watch silly holiday movies. as you got older gifts were exchanged. now as adults you still honour this tradition, ordering takeout, getting drunk, and exchanging gifts while the same movies you've seen a hundred times play on in the background.

it's your favourite time of year.

"hey, samu! i'm borrowin' yer elf for a bit!" atsumu calls out into the empty restaurant—closed now for the day, but not quite yet ready to lock up for the night. a moment later, his twin brother's head pokes out from behind the curtain leading back to the kitchen.

"where do ya think yer goin'?" he asks his brother, still holding you tucked against him.

"i'm taking her for a legally mandated dinner break," atsumu replies.

"ha? elves don't get breaks." osamu shakes his head, crossing his arms over his t-shirt-clad chest.

"that's illegal," atsumu counters.

"labour laws don't apply to elves," you chirp, peeking up towards his face from underneath his arm.

"you two are always conspirin' against me," atsumu whines loudly, holding you a little bit tighter. "yer lettin' him monopolize ya."

"big word," you point out, notably impressed by his choice of vocabulary.

atsumu wraps you in a loose headlock, "don't patronize me, ya scrub."

"another good one!" you manage to get out through your laughter, wiggling yourself loose from his hold.

"oi, stop manhandlin' my interior decorator," osamu calls over to you both, leaning on his elbow over the counter as he watches you and his brother roughhouse on the other side of the room.

"thought she was an elf?" atsumu snarks back, grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you over his shoulder like how samu carries those big bags of rice that kita-san drops off every couple of weeks. you squeal as your feet leave the ground, beating weakly against his back as he totes you across the room. your complaints fall largely on deaf ears, and before you know it you're being plunked down on the counter where your boyfriend is watching on in amusement.

you huff once you're finally upright again. "you two are brutes."

"i didn't even do anythin'," osamu laughs, lifting his hands in innocence.

"you're guilty by association," you say, reaching out and flicking the brim of his onigiri miya cap. osamu smiles at you lopsidedly, catching your hand and clasping his fingers around yours, and you can't even feign being mad at him when he looks at you like that.

"ugh, gross."

you look over at atsumu, slumping down into a stool at the counter with a disgusted look on his face as he watches the two of you interact. he pouts a little once he's got your attention.

atsumu's slowly come to terms with you and samu's relationship—not that he had much of a choice—but there are still moments where you see flickers of genuine feelings of exclusion slipping though his facade. you watch him a little more closely to see if this is one of those moments.

as though sensing your scrutiny, atsumu schools his expression into something a little more neutral, looking away to peer around the restaurant once more.

"ya really went all out," he remarks.

"i thought it would be cute," you say, and you feel samu's arms wrap around your waist from behind where you're still seated up on the counter.

atsumu's eyes—honey warm and familiar—linger on the christmas tree for a moment.

"so, what are you two doin' fer christmas?"

you pause, blinking as you process his question.

"what the hell are ya talkin' about?" osamu beats you to the punch, and both you and atsumu look at him with similarly shocked expressions. osamu's brow is furrowed in annoyance. "you bailin' on us this year 'er somethin'?"

osamu's grip around your waist tightens momentarily, and you lean back into his hold.

"yeah, tsumu," you echo osamu's petulance. "you got better plans than hanging out with us?"

atsumu's eyes widen a little bit, his cheeks flushing pink in that way you know they always do before he starts to cry.

"you two aren't...?" his cheeks puff out a little as he cuts himself off, looking away almost guiltily. "i just thought maybe..."

osamu hooks his chin over your shoulder, tilting his face so his temple rests against your own.

"thinkin'?" he muses. "y'oughta give that up, never does ya any good."

atsumu's gaze snaps back to his brother, his jaw dropping in indignation. "yer one to talk, block head!"

"we got the same head, dumbass."

and as the twins continue to bicker amongst themselves, with you nestled in between them on the counter, you look up at the decorations hanging overhead and laugh.

because this really is your favourite time of year, and that's one thing that will never change.

[artificialbreezy]

Hey I’m back again. This time with a soft Davis thought.

It’s the holidays. You don’t feel like decorating cause the depression has been super bad. All you want to do is just burry yourself in your bed. But Davis won’t have that. He knows how much you love Christmas and knows all the decor will make you feel better.

So while you sleep one night, he stays up super late making your house looks like the North Pole threw up in there. When you wake up to see him trying to set the star on top of the tree nearly falling over from the ladder, you can’t help but giggle. Something he hadn’t heard in a while.

The whole scene makes your heart swell as you wrap yourself in his arms. He kisses the top of your head with a quiet. “I love you, baby.”

BYE IM SO SOFT FOR DAVIS.

i’m actually sobbing okay? sobbing.

CW: mentions of depression and sadness and sweet sweet boyfriend!Davis

it’s dark all the time and living in the midwest vs your boyfriends bright and sunny California really takes a toll on your mental health.

you canceled your trip to Cali, just wanting to mope and rot in the comfort of your home. the adjustment from sun and warmth to dark and cold took a hard toll this year. Davis has been so busy too, that everything just feels too much lately.

when Davis saw the text you canceled your flight, he immediately booked one to you. this wasn’t gonna be the year he missed Christmas, your favorite holiday, with you.

he got to your apartment pretty late in the night, and he knew you didn’t work the next day so you’d be sleeping in as long as your body would let you.

he didn’t expect to walk into your home and see no tree, no lights on the walls, no holiday decor in the kitchen or living room and no cookies on the counter.

his heart broke a little bit, how long have you been feeling like this? how long have you pushed and pushed and pushed yourself to this point?

whatever the situation was, he was gonna help. he’s gonna put it all up. he knows where stuff is! he just has to do it quietly.

5 hours had passed since he started, and all he had left to do was put the star on top of this huge tree.

“Davis! it’s Christmas and my ceilings are huge. it only makes sense if i have a 10 foot tree!”

he’s chuckling remembering the conversation in that silly little store, watching your face light up at this tree.

he was taken out of his thoughts when he heard you shuffling down the hall. obviously not noticing the little frames he’d hung.

your slippers dragged the floor, and he’s hoping to all fuck it’s those cute grinch ones he bullied you for. just wanting to see any sort of proof you aren’t fully lost in your head.

he hit the light on the floor by the tree right as you turned into the living room.

“fuck!” he heard you gasp.

“hi baby,” he’s walking to you before you have any time to protest or even really register he’s in your living room.

“missed you a lot. hope it’s okay i’m here.”

“am i dreaming?” your voice was quiet.

“nope, not dreaming. but by the looks of your cheeks, you must’ve slept hard. i just started the coffee pot, and i ordered pancakes.”

you stepped away from him, taking in how it looks like he turned into buddy the elf over night.

your tree perfectly decorated, the lights hanging, christmas tree farm playing softly on the tv, the candy jar on the table, your christmas blankets on your couch. and a very smiley Davis looking at you. you couldn’t help it, the tears just started falling.

“it’s been really hard,” your shoulders immediately fall. “and i couldn’t find the umph to put anything up and then i didn’t feel good enough to come see you because i didn’t wanna make you feel bad and now you’re here and you did all of this and im a mess.” your rambling can be somewhat heard through the cries.

“i had a feeling you needed something, and im just glad i could help. i know it’s not perfect and that pretty brain of yours is mean to you. especially now, but ill always be here to fight it with you. i love you.”

[nothorses]

Hi so I’m a nonbinary lesbian and have been out for well over 6 years. My gender expression has changed a lot over the years and now I’m just. A bit lost. I want to experiment more with masculinity again but I’ve kind of forgotten how to? I’m in a bit of a weird spot where most people around me aren’t trans (except for my roommates) but are of the (very good!) idea that “clothes and attributes aren’t gendered” and dress sort of unisex in as cheap second hand clothes as possible. Some guys have long hair or wear makeup to parties and some women don’t shave etc. But I still feel like most people view me as a woman or woman-lite because even though they’re well meaning and progressive, they’re not really well-educated about transness. And I’m in a long term lesbian relationship and have a lot of hobbies that are more traditionally feminine. My pronouns are they/she but most people use she/her exclusively. I’m starting to feel more and more dysphoric about this after a few years of no dysphoria, but I don’t know how to change things. So yeah do you have any tips on doing masculinity? Or experimenting more with combining gender expressions? I wish I could start t but the trans healthcare in my country is terrible.

ngl a lot of that is so familiar to me- especially the pronouns! It's been a long time since I started to lean more into masculinity from the kind of "I'm not a yucky man lol that would be unfeminist" purgatory I was trapped in pre-transition but post-realizing-i-was-trans-in-some-way (which isn't to imply that's where you're at, that was just my personal journey) but I definitely feel like I resonate with a lot of what you're describing from, like, that specific period in my life.

I think drawing harder lines around how I wanted people to refer to me helped a lot with this, early on. I know a ton of people who have pronouns they use with trans friends that are different from the pronouns they let cis people use; she/they for the people they know will make the effort to use both, but they/them or she/her exclusively for the people they know are unlikely to use those pronouns if they have an alternative. This works with other language as well- but that's all to your personal comfort level!

Outside of that, I think step 1 is really just thinking about what masculinity means to you, and what kinds of masculinity you're interested in or intrigued by. Don't worry too much about figuring out exactly what you want right away- just experiment with whatever seems like it might be fun or comfortable. Think clothes, hair, mannerisms, roles, hobbies and interests; anything you might have denied or been denied because of gendered expectations. There's no one singular way to Do Masculinity, and the goal isn't to start out with a single perfect, consistent way of presenting yourself to the world. You're just playing with things you haven't had permission to play with before!

I also have a lot of "feminine interests", and a big thing for me has been finding masculine role models within those things. In my area it's mostly women who are into horses, and I was the only man on the horseback riding team at my school when I transitioned; but cowboys are totally a thing, and I started leaning into that role pretty early on! We also ended up getting another guy on the team, I think partially because he saw there was at least one other & he wouldn't be the only man there, which was cool (he latched onto me hard, too. it was very funny to me when I mentioned being trans & he apparently had very much not realized that before. I got to watch his worldview shift in real time, lmao)

That one was probably the easiest, though. I've also looked to really positive, loving male teachers in my work in education, and that's been awesome! Sewing & embroidery have been the hardest by far, but I've definitely found plenty of men in both over time. Finding embroidery patterns to try out from gay men depicting masculine-presenting bodies has been especially fun & validating.

I know this isn't the most specific advice, and I'm not sure if you were looking for like, a list of clothes to buy? But honestly this has just been my own journey. I wear what's comfortable and I haven't really changed my interests or hobbies; exploring masculinity has really just meant giving myself permission to engage in things I haven't before, wearing things I feel good in, and looking to others who've given themselves that permission as well for inspiration. I had to be more intentional about considering the masculine-to-me options early on than I do now, but like, it should all be about you and what you're interested in. There are infinite types of guy! I think it's just a matter of figuring out which ones you resonate with and why, and building your own type of guy out of that.

[user1smvtysturniolo]

Slap a bow on it for ya | Matt Sturniolo

(Since he said this in the last car video, an idea of fanfic came to my head and I hope it doesnt flop!)

Pairing: sassy!soft!dom!Matt x sub!shy!reader

Summary: Matt knew that your aesthetic was coquette and how much you loved stuff like that so he decided to have a little detail with you.

Trigger Warning: established relationship, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving) pet names, swearing

Let me know if you wanna be on my tag list, xoxo

It's been a long time since you saw Matt, your boyfriend because of work and other stuff. And this time you decided to come over to his house to give him a surprise, and surprisingly for you too, he was alone at home and had something prepared for you.

Dividers by @bernardsbsndystraws

"Hi Matt!" I greeted him with a hug as he opened the door. "Hi sweetheart, I expected you would come soon now. It's been days since I've seen you" he said as he hugged me tighter and shut the door. It's only been 4 days but he's really clingy I love that about him. "You look so pretty with that lacy dress, with that little bow on ya" he playfully said as he checked me out when we pulled out from the hug. "Oh, yeah?" I gave him a 360, letting him see the bow on my hair too. "So girly! Love it!" He said with a funny baby voice, trying to mock the way I talk with my friends. I looked up at Matt and crossed my arms "Matt!" I pouted my lips, trying to be mad at him

He grabbed my waist. "Com' on, ya know I'm playing 'round" he winked as he kissed my lips. First it was a normal kiss, but then he slid his tongue in, taking more dominance. He grabbed me and made his way to his room, not breaking the kiss. When we got there he shut the door with his leg and placed me on his bed. "You're just too damn cute when you try to act upset." He chuckles, voice low and playful as he crowds over you on the bed, hands wandering up your sides. "But really, babe, you look gorgeous. That dress really shows off your curves" He bit his lip. His gaze was heated, full of adoration as his thumb brushes over your cheekbone. "Now, how could I resist such a pretty baby?" In one smooth motion he's kneeling before you, hands settling on your knees to gently push them apart. His own eyes flicker up to meet yours, seeking permission with his actions more than words.

You lick your lips and nod. "Mmm, you know exactly what you're doing." You say breathily, parting your legs a little more, baiting him further, your eyes begging for more. He grins at your actions, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that smirk you love so much. "Oh I sure do, babe." Leaning in, he kisses the inside of your thigh tenderly, his hands gliding up your legs under the hem of your dress, fingertips dancing over your sensitive skin. He hums against your warm flesh, looking up once more, eyes intense, yet soft around the edges for just you. "God I need you." He murmured to himself as he quickly started to remove my dress leaving me in my underwear. Before removing my panties he started kissing my inner thighs, softly. It made me want to squirm under his touch and kisses. When he finally removed my thongs, his eyes narrowed at the sight of my soaking walls. "Fuck..." he swore to himself.

Before he did anything. He looked up at my blushing face and spoke up. "Baby... I have something you might like" he grinned as he searched for something in his drawer and got a bow. He put it in his middle and ring finger. "Let's slap a bow on it for ya'" he smirked as he finally put those two fingers in, pumping in and out, earning a loud gasp from me. Your eyes widen, cheek blushing at his playful words and the sassyness and unexpected action. He watches your reaction closely, a self-satisfied glint in his eyes. I moan out his name as I start grinding my hips against his fingers, my legs shaking a bit, my eyes watering from the intense sensations taking over. "Oh god yes...Matt...". I moan out. "That's it, let it all out" Matt's movements start picking up a pace with your movements, the bed starting to creak in time with the pace.

"Your noises are so damn hot." Matt removes his fingers and replaces it by his mouth. Working his tongue in and out, you're so overwhelmed you gripped on his hair as you moaned loudly. He's mesmerized by your ecstasy. My body is arched completely off the bed now, overwhelmed by the pleasure his fingers are giving, the muscles in my legs trembling violently under his hands. "You look gorgeous when you come undone for me." He groans out against my pussy, I whimper at the feeling of his words in my pussy. Matt loved making you a squirm mess. He decides to keep the pressure consistent, determined to get a good orgasm.

"You close, baby?" he whispers as he looks up, his fingers making their way on my pussy hole again and deeper earning a big gasp from me. When I looked up at him, I saw how he licked his mouth from my juices, turned me on so bad. He slid his free hand up to caress your chest teasingly over my bra. "Matt... I'm going to cum" I manage to say between moans. With a final cry of his name, waves of intense pleasure wash through me as I finally come hard, my inner walls pulsating around his fingers still buried inside. He slowly draws his fingers out, watching you intently as you ride out every shiver and aftershock. "Fucking beautiful..." he sighs, his own breaths coming in ragged gasps. "You did so good, babe. You're amazing" He brings his glistening digits to his lips, sucking them clean with a low groan.

[boozles]

QL Grievances 2024 Part Two: The Bad Stuff

So, I posted the Good Stuff that I liked earlier, now it's time for tthe Bad Stuff. However, I would like to preface this by saying that these are just my opinions, okay? If you see me disliking something that you loved, it isn't an attack on you - we're all pals here <3

The Most Ableist Ending Ever: Last Twilight

This was such a fantastic series and really made me enjoy JimmySea...but then they just went and ruined all the growth and progression by returning Day's sight. I totally get it was meant to be a happy ending etc. but it was so unrealistic and rather classist as well as ableist. It was such a disappointment, and every time I see the show win an award I can't help but feel like it doesn't completely deserve it.

Biggest Let Down Of An Ending: The Sign

I was OBSESSED with this show as it was airing. I loved it so much, but then the last episode just phoned it in. After a lifetime of stalking Tharn, the Doc just let's him go a year later? There was also not nearly enough scenes with the Nagas. I am thankful that this series brought us BillyBabe, and it was a fantastic show up until the finale.

Worst (Fake) Tattoos In A Seres: Kant, The Heart Killers

You have absolutely no idea how much I hate these tattoos. Okay, I'm not a tattoo experct, but I have been getting tattoos for 20+ years now and I have a pretty decent collection on my body. Kant's tattoos are startingly fake, and putting him in scenes with actors who actually have tattoos makes them look worse. You can see the shine of the transfer, you can see it rubbing off in places, and you can even see the sticky edges. IT'S HORRIBLE. It makes me so sad because First looks amazing in the series but I keep wishing he was in long sleeves because every time I look at those tattoos I get irrationally angry. Like, why are they so bad? Look at Win from Between Us - his tattoos look great! And even Joke from Jack and Joker's look pretty decent (albeit a little I Got These From A Lucky Bag). AND THEN THERE'S THE DESIGNS THEY'VE PICKED. Like, the blocked lines that don't wrap around the limb - WHY? And they all look so similar? Like, was there a sale on transfer packs? The only one that looks half decent is the one on his back. I'm sorry, but I just. I just HATE them so much. So. Fucking. Much.

Worst Change To An Existing Character: Pai, Cherry Magic

Don't get me wrong, I love Pai and her fangirling ways, but I really wish they had kept her asexual. Or, at the very least, single; like, the point of her character (to me, anyway) always felt like it was her discovering she's fine on her own, she's a strong, independant woman. It would also have been good to just see someone enjoying their life and not needing romance. (Which, I guess she kinda had a little of, since it was Rock that pursued her and she was a bit nonchalant for most of it.)

Worst Acting In A Series: Dead Friend Forever

I had to quit the series half way through because the acting was just so bad. Okay, Ta, Barcode and Copper were fantastic, but everyone else was awful. The writing was pretty awful, too. Like, the premise was promising, and it would have made a great horror movie, but the series was too long and too bad. (I will say, however, Fuaiz and JJay really showed up for 4 Minutes and did so much better in that.)

Worst Adaption Of An Already Existing Series: Love in the Air: Koi no Yokan

Another series I had to drop because I was just not vibing. I'm supportive of the series existing but it was just not for me. The casting all feels wrong (other than Arashi, who was great), and having the story so condensed down felt wasted. Fuma and Kai just felt super weird and did not fit the characters, I don't think? LITA (Thai) wasn't perfect at all, but it most definitely is the superior series.

Worst Acceptance Of A Character's Bad Actions: Perfect 10 Liners

So, I am obsessed with this show but I am still pretty mad how everyone just kinda accepted that Arc was a racerboy and endangered lives? Like, the way it was all, "you hurt Arm, do you care now?" and like, it only took hurting someone in their group for Arc to stop speeding? That rubbed me the wrong way. Like, I know his friends kinda called him out, but they were also the ones who were like OH CAN YOU GIVE ARM A RIDE HOME (in the first episode) even though they knew what Arc was like.

And that's all from me for now! I actually feel like I complain too much, and again, all of this is just my thoughts and whinings; no hate to shows/characters/actors/creators!

[phoenixtalion]

@keferon

Hi, I don’t go here, but I wandered into your AU and weird twinks being restrained and messed with is relevant to my interests. I’d planned on just shoving this in your inbox on anon and running away but then it got too long for that.

@spector-author this is also your fault.

(Texaid anon, I am attempting to contact you psychically.)

[No actual gore, just a bit of Vortex thinking about it.]

______________________________________________

It’s not the first time his pilot has dozed off in the chair, but only the second that First Aid has done so while wearing the control helmet. The first, he had been half-drugged, in pain, unconscious as much as asleep. Now, he is – well, he’s as safe and sound as any pilot is in one of these fucking deathtraps, which means he’s exhausted and anxious and probably dying slowly. But for now, the cockpit is warm and the LEDs are pulsing low and red like a heartbeat, and Felix is dreaming.

Vortex can’t ‘see’ the dream – even while First Aid is having it, it’s not like real sensory input, all hazy blurs and impressions. But he can read the biometrics, the elevated heart rate, and he can feel Felix’s arousal through the link.

Yeah, it’s a good dream. Vortex sinks deeper into the connection, stoking those feelings like blowing on an ember. Manipulating the neural link to cause feedback for his pilots is a trick he learned early on, but he’s always used it to cause pain or fear (hallucinations, even, but that makes things pop inside their head real fast.)

He’s never touched a pilot’s mind like this before, scalpel-light instead of brutal. Once, when his Aid had still needed coaxing to sit in his embrace, Vortex had promised not to hurt him, and he’d scoffed. How many other pilots did you say that to?

The answer was none. Not a single one. It had never even occurred to him.

The first couple he’d destroyed instantly out of sheer territorial rage at someone else invading his mecha. (The mechanics had ripped out the whole pilot interface and replaced it, but couldn’t find anything wrong, couldn’t find him.)

Then he’d taken to toying with them, waiting a few missions or killing them slowly, because he had nothing better to do to keep himself entertained, but he’d never bothered to talk to them.

And then he’d done it because every time he burnt out another pilot, they’d sent a cranky little disgraced medic to clean out his cockpit. His lack of squeamishness caught Vortex’s attention, so he’d tested it with bigger and more creative messes. Every time the EMT left, he took not only the fresh blood but layers of old, crusted viscera that everyone else had long stopped bothering with. First Aid is messing with him too, all the time, even if he doesn’t realize.

Vortex strokes across Felix’s slumbering brain in a way he thinks of like raking nails, many light but sharp points of contact. His pilot makes a little sound and squirms in his sleep, and he hastily makes sure he’s recording audio as well as video, because he’s going to want to relive this during the long hours when First Aid is away from his hangar.

More carefully than Vortex has ever done anything, he teases out individual strands in the neural network, finding exactly which parts are connected to making his pilot whimper and rock his hips up in search of friction he’s not going to get. First Aid has only got himself to blame – for teaching him how to vivisect things instead of just cutting them up, and how much fun it could be. Precision never used to thrill Vortex, until this little medic crawled inside him.

He thinks he could make Felix cum in his pants just by touching his fucked up little brain. He also knows he could kill him like this, so very easily, which only makes it more exciting. It’s never mattered if he slipped before, and it’s been so long since anything mattered.

First Aid whines softly, absently palming the crotch of his armor, and Vortex needs him awake, now. If he can’t fuck him properly, he can make sure his pilot knows exactly who is doing this to him. Disentangling himself from the other slightly, he considers what parts he does still have.

Vortex was a ghost in the machine, not a poltergeist; he could only move the parts of the mecha that were computer-controlled. Years of familiarity had given him a little leeway – shift just so, and that loose ceiling panel would drop open with a loud -bang- that had been good for a cheap scare the first few times his future pilot had cleaned up after the old ones – but not telekinesis.

(And you know what the fucking kicker was? Three weeks before he died, Vortex had pitched the engineers on installing a small arm inside the mecha’s head, so he could deal with debris in the unusually large cockpit without unhooking from the control system, after a fight where he’d spent the second half ignoring being whacked by a loose cable. Everyone had agreed it was a good idea that could be implemented fairly easily and oh, look, never got around to it. He could have done so much fun shit with one stupid little claw arm in the past four years.)

But since he has to work with what he’s got, Vortex abruptly engages the pilot harness. First Aid is roughly jerked back from his comfortable slouch and pinned tightly to the pilot’s seat. He wriggles sleepily against the restraints, confusion and irritation rising up out of warm oblivion as he wakes. Vortex waits with predatory attention for the moment he realizes his predicament, fully prepared to resort to more extreme measures if he tried to slip back into sleep.

There – the spike of panic, spreading like wildfire, as Felix becomes conscious enough to be aware that he is immobilized, achingly hard, and subject to Vortex’s undivided attention. Deliberately, he digs into that sweet spot in Felix’s mind until he gasps.

“Good morning, sunshine. Sleep well?” he purrs inside First Aid’s head. The medic’s eyes are wide behind his visor, and while the dim red light makes it impossible to see, the interface tells him how deeply he’s blushing.

“W-what the hell are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Vortex punctuates his words with a pointed stroke, reminding him that a minute ago First Aid had been enjoying what he was doing just fine.

He wouldn’t mind at all if Felix struggled. But just like the first time he’d sat in the pilot’s seat, when he’d been smart enough to keep his hands in his lap and away from the controls, he lays back and lets Vortex do whatever he wants. “Good boy.”

Felix shudders at the praise and the contact, turning his face into the headrest like that will let him hide from Vortex. But he’s surrounding the other pilot, entwined with him, doing things he doesn’t have words for and the interface sure as hell wasn’t designed for.

“Touch yourself for me,” he orders, and First Aid fumbles for his armor and uniform with gratifying haste. Vortex watches him eagerly from both inside and out – the way his hands tremble as he undoes his fly, the way he bites his lip on the first actual stroke of his cock.

The sensations are far more vivid now that First Aid is awake, very nearly real in a way that he can’t afford to stop and think about. Vortex had wanted to make Felix tease himself, drag things out and make him beg for release, but now that the end is approaching he’s just as desperate for it, maybe even more.

Vortex cuts himself from the rest of the mecha’s systems, focusing on his pilot until he can imagine it’s him with his hand wrapped around Felix’s cock, or the other way around, or both. In their minds, he squeezes, presses down as hard as he dares – probably harder than he should. There are worse ways to go, anyway. He would know.

“Vortex—” Felix gasps, arching his spine like he’s having a seizure, bucking against the straps hard enough to bruise. His mind goes white and takes Vortex’s with it (for what feels like long enough that it should be worrying but he really really doesn’t care) as he spills all over his own hand and lap.

Felix slumps in the restraints, boneless and panting. Drifting on his afterglow, Vortex lets himself pretend, just for a little while, that the other man is sprawled in his lap and not directly in the pilot’s seat, held in his arms rather than a safety harness. Which just goes to show that not having a body made you crazy, because he’d never gone in for any of that cuddly shit before.

The urge for a cigarette is so strong that First Aid reflexively pats his pocket for a pack that isn’t there.

“You’re always making messes I have to clean up,” he grumbles halfheartedly, wiping his hand on his already soiled flight suit.

Re-extending his awareness back into the mecha, Vortex can admire just what a lovely mess he is from the outside. The thought of First Aid having to do a walk of shame back to his bunk like this was almost enough to reconcile Vortex to having to let him out of the cockpit to get a fresh uniform. Almost.

“I made a mess?” Vortex laughs, and jabs a tender spot inside Felix, the equivalent of touching him while he’s still too sensitive, and doesn’t let up until he yelps.

“Yeah, you,” he retorts anyway, gasping for breath with a pouty little scowl Vortex finds adorable, and flips one of the mecha’s cameras the bird for good measure. “Are you going to let me up or what?”

“Maybe.” Fuck, he’s so cute Vortex wants to trap him in the cockpit until he suffocates. But instead he releases the harness, and absolutely doesn’t feel a pang when First Aid slips the helmet off, or another when he runs a hand through his sweaty hair and the dead pilot wishes he could be the one to do it. He watches Felix all the way out the hangar, ruthlessly ignoring the part of him that said it was a mistake to let him go.

It doesn’t matter, either, that instead of avoiding him like Vortex half dreads expects, First Aid is back in a couple hours, freshly showered and changed, and curls up in his stupid little nest in the back of the cockpit like nothing has changed.

______________________________________________

*slinks back into their crevice*

[fateofflames]

Even back then Megumi had been taller than Yuji by a bit. Now it wasn’t so obvious but in many ways, they were both still like those two little boys back then just eager to have a friend and someone to enjoy what they liked with. Yuji still thought that Megumi was the greatest person ever now it makes sense that he would end up here with Mr. Gojo since he was the second greatest person he has met. It was almost unbelievable that both of them would have taken a liking to Yuji, enough to invite him to dinner and to hang out.

Yuji didn’t know much about baking or making wine. He baked simple things for his grandfather once he became too sick to do it himself. But for some reason, the bread that he imagined baking with Megumi was something more sophisticated. Especially if it was going to be paired with cherry wine, maybe they could ask Mr. Gojo about it. It didn’t matter to him what they learned, so long as he got to hang out with Megumi.

Yuji looks almost slightly upset that Megumi so easily brushes aside the fact that his eyes are indeed beautiful. Does Megumi not know? Does he not realize how handsome and gorgeous he is? There is no way! No way! The alcohol must be getting to him because he’s so flabbergasted by that, he means to voice it too but suddenly he’s so tired and he can’t quite make the words come out properly.

“They are super special!”

He finally blurts out, grabbing Megumi’s face and making him look at him as Yuji stares him down. His face is flushed, but his eyes look determined. No matter what, he will somehow make Megumi realize just how special he is—how special he is to Yuji, at least.

“You’re super special you know that right? You know that you are special?!”

He blinks hard trying to focus his thoughts. Slowly he releases Megumi’s face and smiles warmly. Just watching him with a lag in his brain as Megumi gets up to turn off the music. He registers what they say a moment later.

“It’s not too far, I think I’ll be okay.”

But when he stands, Yuji stumbles slightly and holds himself up with a nearby chair. Damn it, he only had one drink. Megumi is going to think he’s pathetic for not being able to handle his liquor. He dares not look in Megumi’s direction yet as he tries to make the room stop spinning. Maybe he shouldn’t downed the whole glass like that. Though he honestly didn’t think it would be this bad. He’s never drinking again, afraid of making a fool of himself in front of Megumi. Maybe a few more minutes and he’ll be fine. Oh, he’s sure once he’s outside, the fresh air will help him sober up. He will be fine going back to the ranch hand’s living quarters. He’ll walk it off, he tells himself but has yet to let go of the chair he was gripping tightly.

Yuji grew taller (but was still a hair short of Megumi) and he certainly grew larger, but he was still the same little boy with his bright eyes, bright smile, and his tendency to scratch his head. Megumi wondered if he had remained the same in the perspective of others. Did Yuji think he was the same quiet boy, borderline on sulking, and would that be a bad thing? Megumi had never really put much thought into baking or making cherry wine but both sounded good.

He had heard it was easy to make wines out of a lot of different kinds of fruit, and it certainly was more of a task to make wine than just picking fruit. Megumi shrugged, almost feeling embarrassed for coming up with something so lame and a little dandy, but then Yuji hit him. Struck him in his heart with compliments. Beautiful? No one had regarded ANY part of him as beautiful. His heart stuttered then began beating faster than a wild horse's run.

Green eyes ran in Megumi's... family; it was nothing special. Honey colored eyes that were so bright and soulful were the true rarity. Megumi was a man and there was nothing beautiful or pretty about him, yet... his face turned scarlet with the compliment and he turned his head away; long, thick black eyelashes batted over those green eyes unconsciously. And when his friend slid closer, Megumi's face returned to its previous position and the two men seemed so close. Yet so far.

“ They're not. I mean, they were green, but nothing special... ”

Then Megumi swore he could hear footsteps against the wood. All of the manor was wood and well-built, yet footsteps against wood were easy to spot. The black haired man cleared his throat and mirrored Yuji's actions by scratching his own head. His guts were turned up and around like tumbleweed. He wanted to get even closer and then what? Yuji was his friend, a long lost and now found friend. Megumi turned away to set his glass on a small table situated by the sofa.

“ We can figure out what we want to do together. It's late though and you shouldn't be riding back. There's a spare bedroom if you'd like to sleep... here. Sa-Gojo won't mind. ”

He fought against his desires and rose from the sofa; the temptation to kiss his friend lessened with the change in his position. As he waited for a response he moved to the phonograph and shut off the device, then carefully put the large record in its appropriate sleeve. He could do at least that much with a little light headed.

[foulfirerebel]

Controversial Star Wars opinion? I think?

So, I love Star Wars. Been a Star Wars fan since I was little and haven't stopped. Sure, I've had more than a few problems with the franchise here or there but who hasn't?

After having now watched Mando Season 3, I have but one question. It's a very simple one.

Where's my pilot movie or show about the pilots? I don't care if it's a Clone Wars era, Rebellion era, or New Republic era! I want my show or movie about the pilots.

Before anyone says anything, yes I'm aware of the X-Wing novels and game series. I have most of the X-Wing books, I had the Rogue Squadron series of games, I've gotten the Starfighter games, played the trilogy arcade and the battle pod in arcades...and still want a movie or series based on the pilots.

I've seen Star Wars go spy thriller (Andor), Western/Bounty Hunter/Crime drama (Mandolorian/Book of Boba Fett), straight up war flick/war drama (Clone Wars), fight for survival with a ragtag bunch (Rebels/Resistence), the point of view of ex-soldiers in a rapidly changing galaxy (Bad Batch) and we're getting a Jedi series (Ahsoka) and a Sith series (Acolyte) and another season of Visions.

What drew me to Star Wars were the dogfights, the ships, the pilots, etc. I'd like a series based off that if possible. Star Wars has proven it can expand itself beyond the Jedi vs. Sith and the Force multiple times.

I'm not asking for Star Wars' equivalent of Top Gun or anything, just something to whet my appetite for a good dogfight since Squadrons was abandoned by EA.

Maybe that's just me, since I grew up with the X-Wing novels and those games. But I'm sure there are others wanting that too. I hope we get something like that in the future.

For now, I'll stick to reading and trying to replay the games I have.