#but i really do want to get back to plotting and writing bigger things with my mutuals. i miss it a lot!

[kotaerukoto]

It's actually one of my big dreams to write Makoto cry or break down in front of someone someday but the problem is the metric TON of trauma and pain that needs to happen to get him to that point plus it's just not something I feel comfortable writing in a vacuum...

[alotofpockets]

Serious about you | Leah Williamson x Lioness!Reader

Where you cross a line with your best friend

Warnings: smut (with a plot), 18+ MDNI

A/n: @scribblesofagoonerr thank you for your support throughout writing this one!

Woso masterlist | Words: 2.2k

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“Leah!” You yell out for your best friend when you see her walk through the doors of St. George’s Park for the first time since she had done her ACL. At the sound of your voice she turns around with a smirk on her face, “You’re happy I’m here, aren’t ya? Your day just got ten times better darling’.” You roll your eyes and hug her. 

“Always happy to see you, but the comeback makes it just a tad bit more special.” Leah’s smirk grew impossibly bigger. “Knew you thought I was special.” There was only so much of Leah’s flirty personality you could take at once until your body would go into panic mode, so you decided you had to step away. “Yeah, great seeing you, I gotta gay- go! I gotta go.” You quickly walk off cursing yourself, while Leah’s proud smile goes right past you.

Beth, who noticed the whole interaction, followed you out of the hall. “I see your crush on Leah is going well.” You sink into one of the chairs in the room. “Oh god, people saw that?” The blonde chuckles, “I think everyone saw you run off with a face like a tomato.” What a great start to camp you thought while your face was slowly returning to its regular colour.

“When are you just going to tell her about your feelings?” Beth was well aware of your feelings for the Lionesses Captain, as she was often the one you came to for advice and a listening ear. Her being your roommate this camp would probably come very handy for those reasons, besides Beth of course being a great friend of yours.

“You know I can't, Beth. Everybody knows Leah doesn't do serious relationships.” It was well known that Leah hadn’t had a serious relationship since Jordan, every girl she had seen since was just a meaningless hookup, so there really was no use in you ever confessing your feelings for her. 

Once you’ve come down from your embarrassing moment on the first day back at camp, you and Beth join the rest of the girls again. It was great seeing everyone again, and your embarrassment was soon forgotten.

The next morning the dining hall was buzzing with energy and laughter. Everyone was happy to be reunited, and was catching up on the time since they had last seen each other. Beth nudged your shoulder, “Look who’s coming over.” 

Your heart started racing as Leah walked in your direction with a beaming smile. Internally you were screaming at yourself, Leah was your best friend, you shouldn’t panic every time she’s near. It used to not be this bad, but ever since Leah started making flirty comments towards you, your brain just went full mush.

“Morning, love. Did you sleep well?” You tried to sound casual, but your mind went a little numb at the nickname she only used on you. “Morning, Lee. Yeah, I slept well. How about you?”

“I slept great. Any plans for today?” Oh god she wanted to have an even longer conversation, while you still had the love on your mind. You glance at Beth for help, but she just raises an eyebrow and smiles, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Uhm well just training with the team and recovery after.”

Leah nods contently, “Alright sounds good. I’ll make sure we’re paired up for drills so we can catch up some more.” You smile and nod, “Looking forward to it.” Leah smiles and turns around to get her own breakfast. 

You turn back to Beth, “Looking forward to it? Why did I say that?” Beth rolls her eyes, “Well, clearly because you’re in love with the woman.” You groan, “Don’t say that out loud!” Beth laughs at your antics, “Relax, it’s just drills. Also, it’s just Leah.” With a huff you respond, “Yeah, just Leah. Mind telling my mind that when it stops working when she’s near?”

One thing about Leah was that when it concerned football, she was always serious. So, while you were running drills with her as your partner, the flirty side of Leah subsided. It wasn’t like she was only serious, you were still having fun while training. You were actually very much enjoying spending time with Leah like this, no embarrassing yourself this way.

Over the next couple of days the team was in full training mode, which came with plenty of recovery where you would relax with the girls. There were movie nights where Leah would sit besides you and put her arm around the back of the couch, and team walks where Leah would always find her way to your side. 

Tonight on the final day before your first match, you joined a few of the girls to recover in the hotel hot tub. You were deep in conversation with Beth and Lotte when Leah walked up to the hot tub, “Got room for one more?” She takes off her training top, leaving her in her sports bra and shorts like the rest of the girls. Only since Leah wasn’t like the rest of the girls to you, your eyes fell on her toned stomach, making you fully space out on the conversation you were having. 

“Earth to y/n.” Beth says loud enough for only you and Lotte to hear. You snap your eyes away from Leah at Beth poking your shoulder. “You’re drooling.” You want to defend yourself, but you know there is no use since she had seen you staring on full display. 

You tried your best to keep your eyes away from Leah, but each time you glanced over you were either faced with a smile or a smirk from the blonde, making your heart beat faster. On the other side of the hot tub, outside of your field of hearing Keira nudged Leah, “I think you might give her a heart attack if you keep flexing, mate.” Which only made Leah smirk again.

Slowly more and more of the girls started leaving the hot tub, until only you and Leah were left. She sat with her arms spread over the edge of the small pool, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander. You don’t know what came over you to check her out without anyone around the two of you to cause enough distraction for it to go unnoticed. 

“Are you just going to keep staring from the other side, or are you going to come join me?” Leah asked with glint behind her eyes that you couldn’t quite place. You move across the hot tub and sit down beside her. She moves her arm that was laying on the edge behind you to your shoulder and starts drawing patterns on it with her fingers.

You hadn’t said a word to Leah since the other girls left, and your eyes were focussed on a glimmer in the water. Leah was doing things to your body right now that you couldn’t control. “You had no problem checking me out when the girls were here, what has gotten you so shy now?” Your only reaction was the blush spreading over your cheeks and the way you swallowed hard. Leah moved her other arm to turn your head her way softly by your chin. She was about to say something, when she realised that you were staring at her lips.

Leah starts slowly leaning in, to give you enough time to stop what was about to happen. You didn’t make her stop, so she placed her lips gently on yours. When Leah realised you weren’t kissing her back, she quickly pulled away again. “Sorry, I thought there was a vibe.” That’s the moment you sprung to life. “There was, sorry.” Leah’s smile returned to her face, “There was?” You nod and lean in this time.

You knew you should stop, but this was the only way you would ever have Leah and besides every fibre in your body telling you that this was only going to end up hurting you, you just couldn’t stop. Before you knew it, you were sitting in Leah’s lap and the two of you were fully making out. 

When Leah’s hands started moving up your thighs, you broke the kiss and halted her. Leah was about to apologise, but you were quick to speak first, “It’s okay, just not here.” You said looking around. Even though the area was currently empty, it was still a public place, and you were not about to have a stranger or even worse one of your teammates walk in on you.

With big towels around your bodies, you made it to Leah’s room. Leah had never been happier to have a room to herself during camp, the perks of being the captain. Without missing a beat, she closes the door behind you and pushes you up against it. Every thought of this not being a good idea left your mind the moment she slotted her leg between yours.

Leah’s hands roamed your body, losing both your towels in the process. It all happened very fast, the next thing your remaining clothes were scattered around Leah’s room and you were laying in her bed. Leah was laying on top of you and kissing your neck, with her hands between your legs. 

The pleasure she was bringing you with simply her lips and her fingers, was overwhelming and perfect at the same time. At no point did you want her to stop, even telling her “More.” A couple of times between pants, which Leah happily obliged to. 

You didn’t realise you had fallen asleep until you woke up the next morning, still naked in Leah’s bed. At first you’re a little disoriented but then it all comes flooding back to you. You crossed a line with your best friend. Your best friend that you were in love with. Your best friend who is the captain of your team. 

Quickly but quietly you get out of bed and put on a clean training kit from Leah, since yours was still wet from carelessly being thrown on the floor last night. You take your own stuff with you and throw it in the laundry on your way back to your own hotel room.

“Well good morning to you, stranger.” You had hoped Beth had still been asleep and you could pretend that you had come in after she had gone to bed last night, but all of that was out the window now that she was looking at you with questions behind her eyes. You confess everything to Beth, who simply cheers you on for finally acting on your feelings. It doesn’t feel that way to you though, Leah didn’t know about your feelings, and knowing Leah this was just a one time thing. At least that was what you were telling yourself. 

Before you could talk about it more, you had to head to breakfast since you had an early bus to take for your first match. You didn’t get to talk to Leah, and quite honestly you were trying your best to ignore her for the time being. 

The first time you interacted with Leah was after the match when you had given your jersey to a fan in the strands. Leah had rushed to your side and handed you her jacket. You thanked her before bringing your focus back to the fans. 

On the bus ride back, you avoided Leah again, opting to sit next to Lotte instead of Leah or Beth. You didn’t know what you wanted, but talking about last night was definitely not it. Back at SGP everyone goes their own way again. You opt on staying with some of the girls in the lounge and put on a movie. About halfway into the movie Keira walks in, “Hey y/n, Leah wants to see you in the meeting hall.” 

You curse yourself, this was it. You had ruined your national career because you couldn’t stop yourself. Nervously you opened the door and found Leah leaning against one of the tables with her arms crossed. Her first words came as a surprise to you, “Why did you leave this morning?”

For a moment you don’t know what to say, standing in front of her with a slightly furrowed brow. “You wanted me to stay?” Leah’s serious expression softened, “Yes, of course I wanted you to stay.” You take a deep sigh, knowing you need to speak your mind. “Lee, last night was… amazing, but you don’t do serious relationships. I left because I didn’t want to make it awkward.”

Leah realises what you’re talking about. “Look, I know I’ve got a bit of a reputation concerning that, but this is different. I haven’t brought a girl home for months because you’ve been clouding my mind. I’m serious about you. Last night meant everything to me, and if it did for you too, I would really like to explore this new territory with you.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, Leah was feeling similar to how you were feeling about her? “It did mean everything to me too. I- sorry, I didn’t expect this, I am a bit at a loss for words.” Leah smiled and stepped towards you. “Maybe instead of using words, I can kiss you?” You nod and Leah crashes her lips on yours. 

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[sceletaflores]

"Dependence Is Weakness, Darling."

pairing: older!patrick zweig x fem!reader

summary: it wasn’t just the cigarettes or the lighters. it was the way you still find yourself thinking about him. patrick, with his tangled emotions and overwhelming presence, had left an inescapable mark on your life. and as much as you wished it, he wasn’t someone you could easily erase from yourself.

—or: it's been a little over twelve years since you've seen patrick zweig.

word count: 7.8k (hopefully this is long enough lol)

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, p in v, rough sex but in a loving way, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all!), semi-public sex (fucking in a car, you know i had to...), angst, swearing, cigarette smoking as a love language, slight mommy issues lmao, hints of mean!reader cause i still live for that shit, love confessions, rain scene cause i'm corny as hell, porn with SOOOO much plot, no use of y/n.

author's note: this might me the filthiest thing i've ever written lols. i actually DID get a couple asks for some more angsty patrick fics and ofc i love writing angst i'm just a girl i live for that shit. look at me doing what was asked of me and not just whatever i wanted! i'm a giver, what can i say. this fic was revived because of a few anon's who demanded it and i'm so glad they did. you guys got me to give this a second chance and i'm so proud of how it turned out. extra special shout out to @bii-aan-ckaa who fiercely advocated and waited very patiently for this! i'm so obsessed with you and your beautiful kind words. hope you love it! mwah xoxo.

Fifteen minutes. 

That’s how long you can stomach sitting in the sticky booth of the bar watching Patrick Zweig flirt with a woman you don't recognize across the dimly lit room. Fifteen measly minutes until you were giving your friends some lame excuse of needing fresh air and leaving the table to escape out into the alley.

It’s been a little over twelve years since you’ve seen Patrick. A little over twelve years since you turned your back on him with tears spilling down your cheeks and your favorite racket a mangled, smashed mess gripped tightly in your shaking hand as you walked out of his life forever. 

Or at least what you thought was forever, you guess you were wrong.

To put it lightly, your relationship with Patrick was…complicated. You met him the summer before you started at Stanford. He was tall with green eyes and curly hair and he was kind of an asshole but he made you laugh, so you let him fuck you anyway. At the time, you thought that was it. One really good fuck with a really hot guy you’d never see again.

You thought you were hallucinating when you saw him on the campus courts two months later, when he sauntered up to you with an unmistakable “I know what you look like naked” smirk on his face. He was just as tall and had the same green eyes and the same curly hair and was an even bigger asshole than he was before. You still let him fuck you anyway.

You never thought you’d get sucked into the storm that was whatever the fuck was going on between Art, Patrick and Tashi. Never thought that it would completely ruin your self esteem, your tennis, your everything.

You weren’t particularly close to Art or Tashi in college. Sure, you were all in the same circle. That didn’t make you best friends. Art was nice enough, but he never went out of his way to talk to you. You and Tashi were on the same team but that didn’t mean anything. You respected the hell out of her and her game, and you could tell she felt the same. Even with that respect, there was still a tiny part of you that resented her. 

She was number one, the pride and joy of Stanford, had a constant slew of brands and scouts up to her ears. It seemed like no matter how hard you worked that she would always be number one. It felt like you were always just inches behind her.

Clawing and scratching your way through the ranks since you were twelve to be second best was never the plan. Your mother made sure to remind you of that every chance she got.

Then slowly, she started beating you at more than just tennis. Patrick wanted her, it was more than obvious. At first you didn’t care, he wasn't your boyfriend. He was just a guy you fucked, he could do whatever he wanted. You were friends. There wasn’t a problem.

When you realized you knew more about Patrick than just how he worked dick, then there was a problem. 

At first, all the things you knew about him were boiled down to the vulgar little tidbits you’d notice when he fucked you. You know that he has a birthmark on his lower back. You know when he’d be close because he’d always bite your shoulder before he came. You know his favorite position was really missionary even though he told everyone it was doggy.

Knowing all that was fine.

You also know that he’s allergic to kiwi. You know that he only holds his cigarettes with his thumb and his pointer finger. You’d always know when he was nervous because he’d start tapping his fingers on his thigh. You know that when he’d listen to music he loved, that his right hand would drum along to the beat just a little bit faster than his left would.

You knew all those things because you were falling in love with him, and Patrick Zweig is not someone you fall in love with. Especially not with Tashi Duncan in the picture.

You tried your best to push it down, to pretend you weren’t hurt every time Patrick chose Tashi over you. When he’d miss your games because he was with Tashi, when he’d blow you off to go meet Tashi, when he started to stop returning your calls or replying to your texts. All things you never cared about before started slowly eating at you. You felt awful most days, holed up in your room wallowing in self-pity. Your GPA was steadily dropping as the semester went on. Even your tennis started slipping, and you lost your winning streak to a fucking scrub. When you finally cracked and broke down to your mother over the phone one night she just scoffed.

“Well what did you think would happen when you started to depend on that boy? Dependence is weakness, darling.”

Dependence is weakness. You blocked Patrick’s number that same night.

It all came to a head when he blew up at you after Tashi’s injury. Everyone was pretty shaken up about it. You’d never forget the way it buckled, the way the sharp snap rang through the court, the way she fell to the ground screaming. You’d never seen her cry before. 

Patrick found you later that night, all alone on the practice courts trying to burn the day out of your mind by serving balls till you collapsed. It was the first time he talked to you in weeks. He was pissed. Screaming at you, calling you every nasty thing he could think of, getting up in your face. It was a fucking mess. You both said some things that should have never been said, but it ended when Patrick accused you of somehow being the cause of all of it.

“You hate Tashi, fucking hate her. You wanted something like this to happen. I bet you’re just over the fucking moon that she’s finally out and you can take her place. You can finally be number one seed and you're fucking ecstatic, aren't you? You’re so fucking pathetic, so desperate for validation. Maybe if mommy paid attention to you for once, you wouldn’t be so fucking needy. You're just a sad, delusional fucking runner-up, grasping at whatever shreds of importance you think you still have.”

You stood there, stunned by his outburst, each word hitting you like a physical blow. It was insane, nothing but Patrick blowing things way out of proportion in the midst of his anger.

You wanted to scream, to deny it vehemently, but the hurt and frustration choked off your words. Tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of anger and heartbreak swirling in you. Vision blurring out everything but Patrick's face twisted up with rage as he glared at you, his words lingering in the air like poison. 

You told him about your mother because you thought you could trust him. You thought he was the only person that really understood you, his dad was a piece of shit too. Him using something so delicate as material to hit you where it hurts was the last straw.

You blew up, all the things you’d been keeping bottled up for months finally boiled over in you swinging your racket down on the green concrete over and over until there was nothing left of it to break. You didn’t even look at Patrick as you walked away. You never saw him again.

You’d love to say it was also the last time you thought about him, but that would be a lie. As much as he hurt you, and as much as you hated him for it, your mind refused to let you forget him.

You still smoke Camel Blues because that was your guys’ brand, even when you should have quit years ago anyway. You still buy the same color lighter, pink. You tell yourself it’s nothing more than an easy choice, that it’s a good color. It’s not at all because you can still hear Patrick’s teasing voice in the back of your head bitching, “I can’t believe you make me use a pink lighter.” when he always forgot his and had to borrow yours. 

It’s not based on a compulsive need to be reminded of him every single time you use it. It’s just convenient, okay.

You know deep down that they were the only remnants of a past that you still couldn’t fully let go of. As much as you tried to bury those memories, they lingered, melded into the corners of your mind like stubborn stains. 

It wasn’t just the cigarettes or the lighters. It was the way you still find yourself thinking about him. Patrick, with his tangled emotions and overwhelming presence, had left an inescapable mark on your life. And as much as you wished it, he wasn’t someone you could easily erase from yourself.

Even twelve years later you’re still trying to convince yourself that dependence is weakness, that you were better off without him. But sometimes, in the quiet moments like this when the smoke curls from your cigarette and the pink lighter flickers in your hand, you wonder if he ever thinks of you, if he regrets how things ended between the two of you.

Maybe it's not that you can't escape Patrick's grip on you after all these years, it's that you just won't.

You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don't hear the heavy door to the bar swinging open, or the sound of gravel crunching underneath approaching footsteps.

“Holy shit,” a deep voice rings out from your right, “someone pinch me.”

Your whole body tenses, your cigarette freezing a few inches away from your lips. Something like fight or flight starts to quietly buzz beneath your skin. You’d recognize that voice anywhere, even despite the gruffer, more grown up tone that wasn’t there the last time you heard it.

Your heart’s already kicking into overdrive when you finally start to hesitantly turn your head, time almost slowing down as your eyes sweep over the alley. You kind of don’t want to believe that your luck is this shitty. That maybe it was all in your imagination, that you were thinking about him so much you were starting to hear things that weren’t really there, that he was still back in the bar feeling up that blonde girl. But it can never be that easy, and sure enough, there he is.

Patrick Zweig is standing a few feet away from you with both hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans and a wide, achingly familiar grin lighting up his face.

You’re quiet for a few long moments, completely shocked into silence. Your mind races with a million different things you want to say but can’t find the voice to. You should be causing a scene. You should be losing it, screaming, crying, throwing things, slapping him hard across his unfairly handsome face. But you don’t, too surprised to even move. 

Patrick speaks again, taking several steps towards you. “It is really you, right?” he asks, eyes wide and mouth pulling into an easy, lopsided grin. To anyone else, the laid back, carefree tone he was going for would sound genuine. You can barely pick up on the stunned, almost breathless edge lacing his words, like he also can’t believe you’re standing right in front of him.

He steps into the light shining from a dingy lamp above the door, it basks around him in a yellow orange glow.

Same eyes, same ears, same Patrick.

For years you’ve thought about this exact moment, what you’d say if you ever saw him. You lose all of that practice the closer he gets. He’s less than a foot away from you now, an expectant look on his face. He’s waiting for you to say something. 

You feel like running, like stubbing your cigarette on the pavement and making a break for the door. You already ran from him once, but old habits die hard. 

You don’t run, you refuse to take the easy way out. You’re a grown woman, you’re stronger than you were in college, you’re going to the goddamn Olympics. It’s only Patrick for Christ’s sake.

“What are you doing here?” It sounds harsher than you meant, but that’s probably for the best. He doesn’t deserve kindness from you. 

“Tennis.” Is all he says, fishing out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. Camel blues. “What are you doing here?” He parrots back, smacking the bottom of the carton, plucking the one that shakes out between his long fingers. “I’d think that Miss. Team USA would be too busy for bar crawls.”

You bristle, eyes narrowing skeptically. You can’t tell if he’s making fun of you or not. “It’s not a bar crawl,” you shoot back childishly, feeling defensive under his heavy gaze. “We’re celebrating.”

Patrick just nods, letting out a small hum in lieu of replying. He's close enough now that you can see gray strands streaked through his hair. He looks older, a few barely there wrinkles creasing his skin as he pops his cigarette between his lips. “Got a light?” he asks around the filter, holding his hand out expectantly before you even answer.

It’s still just as annoying. You roll your eyes, sighing dramatically as you fish your lighter out of your skirts pocket. You place it in the open palm of his hand, ignoring the fireworks that go off at the base of your spine when his fingers catch on your wrist as you pull away.

He mumbles out a half-assed thanks, cupping his hand around the flame to shield it from the wind. If he notices the color, he doesn’t say anything. It feels wrong that he doesn’t tease you about it, staying silent as he tosses it back to you when his cigarette finally lights. You ignore the hurt blooming in your chest as you pocket it.

Patrick takes a deep inhale, the tip of his cigarette burns bright red. The way his lips wrap around the filter has heat spreading through you. “Shocked you’re still smoking,” he waves his free hand at you vaguely, smoke flowing from his lips as he speaks. “It’s not super admirable.”

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s really how you want to start this?

“Start what?” he asks coyly, leaning his shoulder too close to you against the brick. He’s playing dumb, the smirk on his face gives him away. 

You say nothing, not trusting yourself to speak. He has a beard now, sort of patchy and fairly new looking. You wrinkle your nose up at it. 

It doesn’t surprise you that he’s acting like this. All calm and collected like he’s catching up with an old friend, like he didn’t say all those horrible things to you. As if every single word he said that night isn’t still engraved in your mind and carried with you through your whole career. 

Patrick’s quiet for a bit, taking another slow drag. “Have you seen either of them?” His voice is hesitant, like he’s treading the water of your boundaries by bringing this up. “Or am I your first?” He lets the innuendo hang in the air, trying to joke his way through something neither of you really want to talk about.

You don’t look at him, keeping your eyes trained on the part of the street you can see through the alleys opening.

You don’t need to ask who “them” is.

You just shake your head no, not wanting to have to say anything out loud and make this into a whole thing. The smoke from your cigarette swirls through your lungs, warm and familiar. 

You’ve seen them both at multiple tennis events. Things like matches, and galas, and charity auctions. Hell, they watched from the stands when you won Wimbledon for the first time. You just make sure and avoid them like the plague, always running the other direction the second you see a short bob and cropped blonde hair.

You’ve been in the same room with them countless times over the years but you might as well have been in separate worlds. The only “contact” you’ve had with them since you all graduated was weirdly ominous.

Art followed you on Instagram after you got your third career slam, but he doesn’t like any of your posts. You’re one of the mere twenty accounts in his following. You never followed him back. 

Then, when your career first started taking off, the press somehow learned about your past with Tashi. They started using it to their advantage when picking headlines for any pieces written about you. “The only woman in the world to beat Tashi Duncan!” It pissed you off to no end. It was stupid, a way to get clicks on their sad little gossip sites. And it wasn’t even fucking true.

They finally stopped when you threatened to sue their asses. Apparently, Tashi noticed.

She sent you flowers. You threw them out.

Patrick nods back, taking his own slow drag. The sound of traffic hums in the background, the music from the bar bleeding through the wall mutely. 

“Congrats on that,” he says casually, looking you up and down slowly. You fight not to squirm under his gaze. “On making the team. That’s some serious shit. I always knew it’d be you, out of all of us.”

It’s a blatant lie. You were always four out of four in college, the one person in the group with the least potential for stardom. If it wasn’t for Tashi’s injury, she’d definitely be in your place — on top of the world.

He’s trying to pacify you, to butter you up. All it does is grate on your nerves and leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 

“Did you just come out here to interrogate me? To mess with me?” you ask sharply, frustration starting to get the better of you. “Do you want a fucking autograph or something?”

Patrick laughs, throwing his head back. “Nope, I wanted to catch up. It's been a while.” he shrugs, eyes darkening ever so slightly. “I just know how much you like talking about yourself, that’s all.”

You pause, picking up on the clear implication of his words. “Excuse me?” you question, turning towards him.

“Just saying,” he says, raising his hands in surrender. “When we were younger everyone always thought I was this arrogant, cocky, self obsessed prick…” he trails off, an infuriating smirk still playing on his lips. It does nothing to soothe you, only adding fuel to the fire of your anger. “And they were all right, I was. But, that’s also exactly what you are right now.” he finishes, tapping the ash off his cigarette.

You feel it, all the emotions swirling inside you of at seeing Patrick again threatening to burst. Anger and misery waging a war in your stomach. The wind is starting to pick up around you, making goosebumps break out over your skin. The fabric of your skirt swishes around your thighs. You feel clammy, but it has nothing to do with the temperature drop. 

“Was?” you ask, condescending and mean, crossing your arms across your chest defensively. “You really don’t think you’re still all of those things?”

Patrick chuckles, shoulders shaking with amusement. He goes to say something, but you beat him to it. “I’ve changed, Patrick.” you say sternly, brows furrowing in displeasure. Your tone is hard, frustration seeping into your words. Considering the last time the two of you spoke, this was almost going well. It’s just like Patrick to ruin something before he needs to.

You know distantly that you could deescalate the situation, but maybe you’re more alike than you thought. Maybe you’re just too greedy to keep the peace. “So fucking sorry that I’m not the same person I was in college, but I actually chose to grow up.”

Patrick snorts, exhaling a plume of smoke through his nose. “Yeah, clearly.” he mutters under his breath, it’s condescending and sarcastic. It pisses you off.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask sharply, cigarette now forgotten and steadily burning away at your side. 

Patrick shrugs, like it’s obvious. “You’re still so lost. I sure as shit don’t have a red, white, and blue track suit hanging in my closet, but at least I know who I am.” He doesn't sound angry, only sure of himself, like he may have been thinking about this for a while. His face is passive, body relaxed as he leans against the hard brick.

Your jaw clenches, anger running hot through your veins. He doesn’t know anything about you, hasn’t for over ten years. He doesn’t have the right to try and talk down to you, not after all the hard work you put in to get to where you are.

“My wrist alone is worth ten million. What are you worth now, Patrick?” You’ll be embarrassed about bringing up status later, you always try to stay as humble as possible, but you’re too mad to care. You just need to hurt him, to hurt him like he hurt you. You’d heard from a friend of a friend that Patrick’s parents cut him off a while ago, that he’s been slumming it ever since. “I know exactly who I am, I’m a fucking Olympian.”

The venom in your tone is sharp, each word from your lips like a knife stabbing through the tense air trying to draw blood. “You’re a fucking nobody, Patrick. You’re irrelevant. Washed up. Buried. Forgotten.” You pause when your voice starts to shake, taking a deep inhale of smoke to try and calm yourself. Your hand is shaking too, ash falls from the burnt out tip down to the gravel. Patrick just watches you, his expression doesn’t change. Smoke billows from between your lips, blowing away with the wind. “We’re not on the same level, not anymore.” 

Patrick’s unfazed, staring back at you with his cigarette dangling from his lips. He takes it between his fingers, letting his arm drop to hang at his side. “I’ve been thinking about you.” he says casually, head lolling to the side lazily. He looks at you through his lashes, eyes sweeping over your face slowly. “I was just thinking about you, and now you’re here. Right fucking in front of me.” he shakes his head with a dry laugh. “You look…” he trails off, green eyes taking in every inch of you. “You look amazing.”

Your pulse flutters wildly, you feel so light headed, like you could pass out any second. “I’ve missed you, missed you everyday since that night.” His expression is that same half cocked grin from before, all smooth bravado and easy smiles as if he’s not staring at you like you’re the very blood coursing through his veins. All the air drains from your lungs, mind racing what feels like a thousand miles per second. 

He sounds like he means it. He looks like he means it. He can’t possibly mean it.

A loud chant ringing through your skull is the only coherent thing screaming through all the mess. Don’t fall for it, don’t fall for it, don’t fall for it, don’t fucking fall for it–

“Well I don’t miss you.” A lie. “You were nothing to me, Patrick.” Another lie. “You were just easy dick.” Your stomach twists painfully, like your body is physically trying to stop you from lying to yourself any further.

His face stays neutral, it frustrates you to no end that you can’t tell what he’s thinking. Patrick had a terrible poker face in college, you could read him like a book with a single glance. It was one of your favorite things about him, how expressive his face always was.

Now he’s just staring down the bridge of his nose at you passively, the picture of indifference. It’s another reminder of how long it’s been, that he’s lived a whole life without you in all that time. He takes a long drag off his cigarette, never breaking eye contact with you as he does.

His lips are slick and pink, just how you remember them. The beard isn’t so bad, it makes him look more rugged, more like a man. It’s the most drastic change in his appearance, far different from the smooth skinned pretty boy he was before.

He exhales, a long stream of smoke blowing past your ear. “What are you still doing here then?” he muses with a small shrug. He leans in even closer, slowly, like you were a cornered animal he didn’t want to spook. You can smell him, something woodsy with a hint of musk. You can see the clusters of freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose, almost completely faded. “If I’m nothing,” he clarifies, simple, easy. “Why are you here?”

It’s a loaded question, one he obviously knows the answer to. It’s a dick move, forcing you to confront what you’re really feeling. Your eyes start to sting, complicated emotions welling up in your throat. “Fuck you Patrick.” you whisper weakly, all the bite in your tone getting lost in your dejection. Your lip wobbles warningly, you try your best to stifle it. You refuse to cry in front of him.

Patrick’s face does something funny, turning his eyes to the sidewalk. “I need someone like that again. Someone that isn’t afraid to fucking check me, that wants me to do better and not because they just see a check or a legacy or whatever the fuck else my parents expected from me. Someone that wants me to do better because they actually believe in me.”

The honesty in his voice takes you by surprise. He gets more worked up the longer he talks, chest rising and falling a lot faster than before. Rare vulnerability slipping through the cracks of his hardened exterior.  “I fucked up that night, I know. Now my life’s a fucking mess, and I need someone to help make it make sense again.“ 

You scoff thickly, shaking your head in disbelief as you fight back tears. “And I’m that person?” you ask skeptically, brow raised in question.

“You always were,” he replies easily, his face forming into a sad smile. He almost sounds like his old self. Your brain flashes the image of Patrick leaning outside the door of your science lecture, waiting to walk you back to your dorm. He’s smiling wide enough to show teeth, looking down at you with brilliant green eyes, just like he is right now.

Suddenly, he wasn’t the boy that broke your heart on a tennis court twelve years ago. 

He was the boy that held your hair back when you threw up after drinking too much at a frat party and still stayed the night even though you didn’t hook up, his chest pressed against your back like a security blanket the whole night. He was the boy that let you make friendship bracelets on the handle of his favorite racket, and secretly kept the one you made for him braided around the neck for weeks until you finally noticed the fraying blue strings still in place when he forgot his tennis bag at your dorm room one night.

Suddenly he wasn’t anything but the boy you fell in love with when you were eighteen years old.

You swallow hard, heart pounding against your ribcage. Your cigarette falls from the slack grip of your fingers, plummeting to your feet where it burns out on the pavement. 

It’s like you lose control of yourself, like all your morals get shot out of a cannon into the sun. You’re lunging forward before you know what you’re doing, fisting the fabric of Patrick’s shirt and pulling him down to meet you halfway. Your first kiss with Patrick in twelve years.

It’s a mess of teeth clashing together roughly, with way too much tongue and spit to be classified as romantic. It’s desperate. It’s angry. It’s fucking filthy and it’s exactly what you need.

Your tongue forces its way between Patrick’s lips when he gasps in shock, mapping out the familiar territory of his mouth like muscle memory. His big hands fly up to hold onto your hips as he eagerly returns your kiss, pressing you up against the brick and sucking your tongue lewdly. He tastes like smoke and bottom shelf whiskey. You moan into his mouth, wetness starting to seep through the thin material of your panties.

You stay like that for a while, just kissing until Patrick slides the hard line of his cock against your hip strategically. You moan at the size of it pressing onto you through his jeans, breaking the kiss to inhale a couple lungfuls of air. “You’re not fucking me in an alley.” You say bluntly as he trails wet kisses down the side of your throat.

He laughs, nipping at your collarbone teasingly. “My car’s a block away,” he offers between kisses.

You think about it for a second. Deciding on whether or not you’re going to let Patrick fuck you in the backseat of his car like you’re two horny teenagers and not full grown adults.

“Lead the way.” Is all you say, finally letting yourself smile when Patrick starts to drag you away from the bar. 

You shoot your friends a quick text letting them know you decided to head home early, already in the uber you ordered when you’re actually letting Patrick drag you across a blessedly empty parking lot to an old SUV parked in the middle. A completely one-eighty from the Porsche he used to drive.

He takes a second to press you against the door, capturing your lips with his again. It’s a slower kiss, sweeter than the one you shared outside the bar. You feel butterflies erupt in your stomach when he cups your face, gently rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone. He fumbles blindly for the car door with his other hand, pulling it open and pushing you into the back. He follows closely, climbing in and shutting the door behind him.

Patrick’s back on you in less than a second, yanking at the buttons of your shirt impatiently, fingers too big to work them through the holes as fast as he wants to. He lets out a frustrated growl, grabbing both sides and pulling hard. The buttons all go flying in different directions, landing in different spots around you.

“That was three hundred dollars,” you mumble against his lips, not wanting to stop kissing him for even a second. He looms over you, broad and all encompassing. He sits up to yank his own shirt over his head, tossing it aside and popping open the button of his jeans.

“You can buy another one,” he says simply, shucking his jeans and boxers off all in one go. His dick is long and lovely, tip red and drooling pre-cum that drips all the way down to his balls. Your mouth waters, desperate to taste it, to feel the weight of it on your tongue and down your throat. You push it to the back of your mind. There’s no time for that, both of you too keyed up to do anything other than fuck.

Patrick leans down, biting your bottom lip hard enough to make you moan. He turns his attention to your pulling skirt down, panties going with it and getting tossed onto the floorboard carelessly. His eyes zero in on your bare pussy, wet and on display. The cool air shocks your system, making you want to press your thighs together but Patrick’s hands keep you spread open.

“Fuck,” he whispers quietly, moving to roll the knuckle of his right index finger over your slick entrance, just barely rocking it into you. You gasp, your whole body trembling with need. “Just like I remember.” He mutters to himself, pushing in the smallest bit deeper. 

Your leg kicks out, patience starting to wear thin. “C’mon, Pat.” you mewl sweetly, bucking your hips up in a clear invitation. “Fuck me.”

Patrick shifts up onto his knees, silently shuffling closer to your spread thighs. His cock juts out from his body, so thick and heavy that it doesn’t point straight up, instead hangs angry and red between his legs. His big hands slide halfway up your thighs, you shiver at the way they skirt across your skin lightly. He presses you backwards by them, leaning over you with your legs slung across his shoulders.

His cock drags across your inner thigh, trailing a sloppy line of pre-come as it does. You nearly wail, wrapping your arms around Patrick’s broad shoulders as you beg for him to give you what you want.

“God Patrick! Put it in. Please, put it in. Let me have it, please, fuck–,” you beg frantically, arms tightening around his shoulders like you’re trying to drag him impossibly closer to you. He goes willingly, burying his nose in the soft skin of your neck. He presses a small kiss directly over your pulse.

“I’m gonna give you this cock, baby.” he whispers lowly, hot lips brushing against your skin with every word. He slides the head of his cock through your wet folds, stopping to rub it over your swollen clit a few times. “Gonna get all up inside you and fuck you exactly how you like.” He slides the length down, letting his tip catch on your empty, clenching hole.

You’re so damn worked up, writhing and pushing back and begging Patrick to just fuck you already, that you can’t take anymore teasing. Your hole contracts around the tip of his dick like it’s trying to suck him in. He sinks in deeper, slowly feeding every thick inch into your aching cunt.

“God,” Your name falls from his lips in a shuddery breath that fans over your fluttering pulse. “You still smell the same.” It’s the same stunned, breathless tone from when he first saw you. He presses his face cheek to cheek with yours, the rough texture of his beard scraping against your skin. 

Patrick moves his hips against you slowly, deep strokes that drag every thick inch of him against the walls of your cunt. The tip of his cock stabbing that sweet spot inside you that makes stars glow bright on the ceiling of his car each time you blink. The angle has his balls pressing against your cunt as he fucks into you, the excessive pre-come leaking from his tip mixing with the sticky wetness of your juices leaves an obscene ring of creamy white around the spread hole of your cunt. It sticks wetly to the base of Patrick’s cock with each thrust, shining back at you on his skin when he pulls out.

The slow thrusts feel amazing, but you know it’s not enough. You need him to pound into you, to bully his big cock into your cunt like he’s getting back at you for shutting him out. You need him to fuck you. 

“Harder, Pat…” you whine breathlessly, clawing desperately at the polyester seats.

He groans loudly, hips immediately speeding up, getting rougher, meaner. He leans up to get more power behind his thrusts, breaking your tight hold on his shoulders. “This is where you belong,” he grits out, sweat dripping from his forehead to fall onto your heaving chest. The sharp smack smack smack of his hips bruising your ass gets louder, the lewd noise filling the car. “Where you should have been this whole fucking time, spread open on my cock.”

The only thing you can even get out anymore are pleading whines and loud moans of Patrick’s name as he pounds into you like he’s trying to kill you. The harsh snap of his hips inching you further up the backseat until your head’s knocking against the doors handle on each mean thrust. Your feet bounce by his ears, body almost completely folded in half so all you can do is lie there and take it.

The car rocks steadily, anyone who spares a glance at the SUV will know what’s going on inside. 

Patrick sneaks a hand between your legs, fingers sliding over your swollen clit. You scream, throwing your head back in pleasure as the calloused tips over his fingers work you over. “Fuck yeah,” Patrick mutters, turning his head to lick and bite at your ankle. “You’re so fucking sexy, so fucking beautiful. I missed you so much, missed this pussy.” His voice is pinched, hips fucking into you impossible faster.

The wet squelching noise of your cunt is filthy, splattering against Patrick’s heavy balls with each thrust. “I know she missed me too, didn’t she baby?” he taunts, eyes wild and blown out. “Taking my cock so well, squeezing me so fucking good.”

“Close,” you gasp out. Patrick pitches forward, licking into your parted lips as he rubs tight circles over your clit faster. He kisses you sloppily, smearing spit all over your lips and chin. His sweat drips onto your face and mixes with your own, it should be gross, but it makes you even wetter. The primal part of your brain overjoyed to be claimed by him. He lifts his fingers up the tiniest bit, smacking them over your clit with the smallest amount of force.

Your orgasm hits you suddenly, back arching off the seat wildly as you gush around his cock. You claw at his back desperately, nails raking down his skin hard enough to leave angry red welts in their wake.

“Shit– that’s good, milk it out of me baby, work for this fucking load.” he groans, hips not slowing down as he chases his own release. His breath puffs over your skin, the rhythm of his hips starting to falter the closer he gets. You whine, trying your best focus on clenching your cunt over his cock in your fucked out state. “That’s it, baby– God – you’re gonna make me come, squeezing me so tight I can barely fucking move…” he growls, teeth sinking into your neck hard.

You hiss sharply, nails digging into his skin as the pleasure starts to become too much. He licks over the bite mark, like he’s apologizing. “Gonna fucking come inside you, fill you up so good, fuck–”

His rambling dissolves into a loud groan, hips giving one last thrust as he buries himself as deep in your cunt as he can. You feel rope after rope of warm come flood your insides, painting your walls with it. It feels like hours, him unloading into you with cut off moans and grunts. 

You're still desperately trying to catch your breath when he finally starts to pull out of you as gently as he can. The red tip of his cock popping free lets the river of his come leak out from your abused hole, spilling out of you to drip onto the car’s seat.

Patrick curses at the sight, scooping the white, creamy mess onto his fingers so he can fuck it back into you. You hiss at the over stimulation, thighs squeezing together around his hand. Your chest is still heaving, breathing erratic as you slowly come down from your orgasm. Patrick tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, smiling warmly as he takes you into his arms and shifts around until he’s sitting up against the door with you curled into his chest.

The windows are steamy, melting all the streetlights outside into a swamp of warm colors on the glass. They shine through the car like sunlight piercing through a stained glass window. You feel light and hazy, like you’re in a dream. Patrick’s body grounds you, firm and familiar against your back. It’s quiet for a long time, only the sound of soft breathing fills the car. You're scratching your nails through the hair on Patrick’s chest when he finally breaks the silence.

“There’s…” he says into your hair, trailing off near the end. He’s idly tracing shapes on your lower back. A circle, a square, a circle, a diamond, a square, a heart. “There’s this challenger in New Rochelle in a couple weeks, I’m entering it. You should come.” 

Your heart drops, the delicate cloud encompassing you and Patrick forcefully ripped away in less than a second. You’ve already heard of this challenger, seen all the publicity it’s been getting since Art’s name came up in the conversation surrounding it. The ‘Phil’s Tire Town Challenger’ is all anyone can talk about. 

If Art’s there, she will be too. Sitting in the stands in a classy Ralph Lauren two piece, watching her husband and Patrick on the court, looming over the two of them for the first time in years. You can’t stomach the thought of seeing her. You can’t stomach the thought of Patrick seeing her, terrified that the second she spares him a glance you’ll be right back where you were in college, an afterthought left in the dust for something better.

Your stomach lurches violently, you feel nauseous. The heat of Patrick’s backseat becomes almost unbearable, making it harder to breathe. You rip yourself away from him, tearing through the backseat to find your clothes. 

Patrick startles, sitting up with a concerned look on his face. “Jesus, what's wrong?” You can feel the warmth of his hands hovering over your back, not sure if he should touch. “What did I do?”

You don’t say anything, you can’t. Your throat feels tight, chest constricted and heavy as you try to take in lungfuls of air. You tug on your skirt and panties haphazardly, grabbing the first shirt you find strewn across the car's floor and yanking it on. You know it’s not yours but you don’t care, too busy trying to shove your shoes back onto your feet and push open the door all at once.

Patrick questions you the entire time, voice confused and insistent as you tumble out into the parking lot. The cool air feels like a life jacket, the smell of rain fills your nose as you try to steady your erratic breathing. You’re still trying to tug your right shoe on as you start to speed walk away from his car.

You can hear the sound of feet slapping behind you on the pavement as you walk. A strong hand wraps around your bicep, whipping you around. Patrick only has his pants on, shirtless and barefoot in his haste to catch up with you.

“What the fuck are you doing? What’s wrong?” He sounds genuinely concerned, his eyes searching your face closely. It makes tears burn hot at your waterline, blurring your vision and falling to trickle down your cheeks when you try to blink them away.

“This was a mistake, Patrick.” your voice is thick with emotion, you try to wrench your arm out of his grip. He doesn’t let go, not squeezing tight enough to hurt but to try and keep you in place. You need to leave, to get as far away from Patrick as you can before you’re in too deep. “Please, let go.” Your voice is small, shaky and weak and so unlike you. The panic from the car is still wrapped around you, growing tighter every second you spend with him.

Patrick shakes his head wildly, raindrops slowly start to fall onto his bare shoulders. “No, fuck no! We can talk about this. We just need to talk–”

“Patrick stop!” Your voice cracks embarrassingly, loud and desperate as you double your efforts to free your arm. “Please just let me go!”

You don’t know if it’s the way you said it or the look on your face, maybe it’s a bit of both, but something makes Patrick let you go. Dropping your arm from his grip and letting his own hang limply at his side.

Rain starts to come down all around you, large drops hitting your skin and soaking the cotton of your shirt. You let yourself meet his eyes, they're sad in a way you’ve never seen before. The green turned dull and lifeless. It looks wrong on him.

When you can’t stand the hurt look on his face any longer, you leave. Walking away deeper into the rain, small puddles splashing up around your shoes with every step. You hope Patrick doesn’t follow you, that he lets you go. You’re doing him a favor by making the choice for him, it’s easier this way.

“You know, I think I really loved you.” He calls from behind you as the rain really starts to pick up. His voice almost gets swallowed by the thunder, you wish it would have. 

Against your better judgment, you look back. Patrick hasn't moved, still standing in the middle of the parking lot. The rain is making his hair stick to his forehead, starting to seep into the denim of his jeans to darken the gray. 

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, voice tiny and pathetic. Patrick probably couldn’t even hear you over the wind whipping through the air. He stares back at you, there's too much distance for you to see the look on his face. You turn on your heels and keep walking.

It’s nostalgia in its sickest form, the dark familiarity of the situation washing over you with the rain as you walk away from Patrick again. Ignoring every call of your name and desperate pleas for you to come back is new, you can’t tell if it hurts more or less than the silence of last time.

You wrap your arms around yourself, tears mixing with the trails of rain running down your cheeks. It’ll make it easier to convince yourself later on that you weren’t really crying, that it was just the rain. Tomorrow you’ll wake up and this will all be behind you. Patrick will be fine, he doesn’t really love you. In a few weeks he’ll go to the challenger and forget all about you. 

You hear your mothers voice ring out in the back of your head as you walk.

"It's for the best, my love. Dependence is weakness."

You hope to God that she's right.

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[inklore]

middle of the night.

— kenji sato x f!reader

premise: it doesn’t matter how many times you try to convince yourself that you’re done with him you always end up back in his bed.

contents: exes with benefits, p in v, tiny bit of plot, oral, alcohol consumption, booty calls, slight toxic relationship | wc: 1k+

note: went into this movie already down bad for him and came out of it even worse. i had to write something for him, i'm obsessed.

“Baby, come on.” You can tell from the deep bravado of his voice that he’s been drinking. That he’s had one too many more than he really should have allowed himself. That something clearly went south at some point during the day that had made him grip the glass of liquid poison until he was tipsy enough to let go of the day's frustration and call you. 

His inhibitions always lead him back to lighting up your phone at late hours of the night. 

Your own endless cycle of your lack of impulse control has you staring down at the screen of your phone, determined, grounding your feet at the line you had drawn in your attempts to not answer his calls again. 

Ever again. 

"Kenji, it’s never going to work.” 

“But it feels so good when it does.”

“I can’t keep doing this.” 

And yet you end up scuffing up that line you drew in the sand as you step over it and answer your phone. Each and every time. 

“Just come over. We can just talk.” 

“Kenji,” you sigh. Both of you know that ‘just talking’ has never been a strong suit for either of you. It was hard to just talk when his mouth was between your legs or your face was pressed into his pillow. 

“I promise. I just want to see you, please. I’ve...” he swallows. Maybe he takes a sip of whatever has his mind hazed and slipping into old habits. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” 

His voice, when it’s like this, gravelly, raw from the liquor he’s consumed, low and almost needy, always makes your insides burn. Always makes you forget how to breathe. 

And then he’s sighing; it’s breathy, and you can hear ruffling, like he’s situating himself against the back of his couch or removing something—clothes, his pants, images of late nights with him leaned back against the cushions of his couch, his legs splayed open for you to sit prettily in front of him, your lips teasing the tip of his cock, making your cheeks heat. 

Making you swallow hard. Close your eyes. Try to ground yourself. Try to list all the reasons why you should not go over to his house right now. 

It’s never a good idea. 

Never. 

But no and Kenji Sato never went into the same sentence in your brain, and maybe that’s a bigger problem than your resolute “fine” through the phone. 

“Just to talk.” 

“Just to talk.” You can hear his smirk through the phone. “I can’t wait to see you, baby.” 

And you know, as you hang up the phone, as you put on your shoes, as you get into your car—before you even answered the phone—that the last thing the two of you are ever going to do is just talk. 

That’s why when you show up at his place, when you knock and he opens the door barely seconds later, that curve of his mouth, his hand reaching out and gripping the bottom of your shirt, “Hi, baby.” Rolling off his tongue like a siren song to your insides, it is no surprise you are pressed against the back of his door seconds later. 

His mouth on yours, his hands everywhere. Pulling at your clothes, pulling you closer to him. His hair falling in your face in that way you’ve missed so fucking much. That you have grown addicted to feeling when he’s on top of you and thrusting between your legs. 

“Knew you missed me too,” Kenji groans when you fall to your knees and take his cock in your mouth. His teeth in his bottom lip as he looks down at you like you own his world. His very being. Like he doesn’t know pleasure unless it’s given to him by you. 

A feeling you know too well in regards to him. 

And you don’t tell him differently. Because yeah, you did miss him. You always miss him. That’s why you can never stop these visits. Never say no to him. Even if the two of you will always be the right person wrong time, every time you think it will be different. That your heart might actually be a little more safe than the last time. 

It doesn’t matter, though. You know that when his palm grabs the back of your neck to pull you up from your knees, his thumbs pressing into the side of your jaw as he brings his mouth down on yours—nothing matters but this. How good it feels. How good Kenji feels, how good he makes you feel, how much the two of you love each other even if he’s bad at it. 

You need him to fill your lungs with air when he pushes inside of you, his thick cock filling your tight cunt, that heavy breath of relief he lets out as if nothing has felt as right as this. As you. Under him. Digging your nails into his lower back as he thrusts into you. As his mouth bites and sucks at your neck. 

As his hand snakes between the two of you and presses his thumb against your clit. Your legs tightening around him. Your cunt tightens around his cock, your moans become more breathy, panting into his mouth as his tongue licks into yours. 

“Yeah, baby. Come on. Come on, give me it.” 

And you do. You come and come again when he puts you in a different position—when his mouth is hot and wet at your shoulder blade. When his fingers grip your hips and pull you back, his hand pushes down on the base of your spine to have your ass push up higher for him. To allow him to go deeper until you’re gripping the sheets and seeing stars. 

“Fuck, that’s my girl.” 

By the time he pulls himself from your wetness, his fist moving against his cock fast and hard, your arousal still slick against him, making the lewd noise burn your cheeks. Your body heating back up as you watch his brow furrow. “Look at me, baby, look,” he says breathless as he paints the mound of your pussy with his come. You know reason will never mean anything. You’re his, and when he calls, you’ll come running each and every time. 

[writingquestionsanswered]

i struggle with writing a continuous long scene. instead, i end up writing short scenes that show the core of that scene almost immediately and then time skip to the next scene. is there a way to cure this? it feels like a lot of "jumping around" and somewhat inconsistent because of that.

Scenes Are Too Short (How to Write a Scene)

The way to cure continuously short scenes is to get a better grasp on what a scene is, what they should contain, and how to structure them. :) What is a Scene?

Long fiction is broken up into narrative building blocks called "scenes," which are almost like mini-stories that build upon each other to advance the plot. Remember: stories are about someone who is trying to resolve a problem in their heart and mind, situation, life, or world. The thing they're trying to achieve in order to resolve that problem is their goal. Goals can be broken down into smaller goals (or steps) that must be completed in order to achieve the bigger goal. Scenes are like mini-stories that focus on each of those steps/smaller goals.

What is the Purpose of a Scene?

A good scene should accomplish at least one of the following:

-- advance the plot by completing smaller steps/goals that are needed in order to achieve the story goal -- advance character development to push them toward where they need to be mentally, emotionally, physically, knowledge-wise, relationship-wise, or situation-wise in order to achieve the story goal

-- advance setting and back story development in order to build toward the climax (where the character attempts to achieve the story goal once and for all)

-- deliver important back story or other information necessary to help the reader understand the plot, characters, or setting and to help move the pieces into place for the climax How Are Scenes Structured? Like any story, scenes have a beginning, middle, ending, and conflict/dilemma. The setting, characters, conflict/dilemma, and goal for resolution of the conflict/dilemma are established in the beginning of the scene. Through the middle of the scene, the characters take steps to resole the conflict/dilemma, encountering obstacles and challenges which they must overcome or find a way around, and making decisions and plans to help them tackle the next step/smaller goal. In the end of the scene, the characters attempt to do whatever they need to do in order to achieve that step/smaller goal. The attempt may end in success (the step/goal is achieved), failure (they do not successfully complete the step/achieve the goal), or the outcome may be left unknown (aka a "cliffhanger.) With the exception of cliffhanger endings, the very end of the scene is used to set things up for the next scene/create a smooth transition into the next scene.

A Note About Conflict, Dilemmas, and Goals

It's important to remember that a scene conflict/dilemma and resulting goal doesn't have to be some big, major thing. It can be something really simple, like maybe a character needs cash for a road trip, so they're trying to get a summer job. The problem is that, on paper, they're under qualified for the job they want to apply for. However, they know they have the knowledge to do the job well, so the scene goal is to convince the potential employer that they have what it takes to do the job. Another example: a character has a crush on another character but the problem is they're not sure the other character is interested. Others have said they might be, so the scene goal is to approach the crush and casually ask if they want to hang out sometime. How to Craft an Engaging Scene In order to keep your reader engaged in your scene, be sure to do the following in every scene:

-- reveal new information (character, setting, back story, plot) -- develop internal conflict, motivations, stakes, relationships -- advance the protagonist's progress toward their goal -- establish the setting (time, place, environment, atmosphere) -- establish the scene conflict/dilemma and necessary steps -- illustrate the obstacles in the character's way -- explore character thoughts/feelings/reactions to scene events -- use a relative balance of exposition, action, and dialogue -- use the proper pace for the scene to maintain flow and interest -- explore story themes and messages -- end with some type of resolution for the scene conflict -- transition smoothly into the next scene Happy writing!

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[shares-a-vest]

It’s that time of year again. The Australian football season is in full swing so it’s my designated time to write. But PLOT TWIST! I have found myself, ahem… enjoying watching the sportsballmen sporting. Please keep me in your thoughts during this difficult time (or maybe read this projection onto Eddie).

-🏈🏈🏈-

“But, what about the foo-”

Eddie claps a hand over his mouth to stop himself from finishing that sentence. Something he should have never uttered in the first place. A statement that goes against the Munson Doctrine – and everything he ever uttered in gym class.

But it’s too late because Steve has frozen in place, one hand on his car keys still dangling by the hook near the front door, his other hand fisted into his Member’s Only jacket.

Eddie stills, his shoulders tensing up as he watches Steve slowly turn around, leaving his keys hanging and his jacket a-dangling off one arm.

Steve quirks a brow.

“Huh?” he says, feigning confusion as a sly smile tugs at the corner of his pretty mouth.

Eddie scrubs a hand over his face and sighs. His boyfriend is really going to torture him over this, isn’t he?

“Nothing,” he shrugs and rocks back on his heels.

“I said…” Steve begins as he takes a step forward, “We should go grab dinner…”

“Uh-huh,” Eddie nods, folding his arms now as Steve moves closer – a protective shield that is completely useless when confronted with the flashiest of shit-eating grins.

“But then you said…”

Steve raises his eyebrows expectantly and adds a winding hand gesture that Eddie supposes is meant to get him to admit to the thing he just mighta-sorta said, but not technically finished saying…

“I didn’t say anything,” he blatantly lies, shaking his head so much that he can feel his hair swishing about.

“It sounded like…” Steve teases as his big, strong and utterly irresistible hands come to rest on his shoulders, “You wanted to stay home and watch football.”

He quickly follows up with a gasp and bites his bottom lip just to be an even bigger nightmare and goddamn it! he looks so cute and Eddie wants to see him do that at least three more times as soon as possible.

Eddie sighs. He can feel his lip quivering as Steve looks him up and down, blushing like he has just been let in on the world’s biggest secret.

Something Eddie didn’t know himself until like, two minutes ago.

He scrunches his nose.

“Stevie,” he warns.

Steve holds up his pinky finger.

“Won’t tell a soul,” he giggles, wiggling that stupid, not-so-little finger in total knowing condescension.

Eddie captures the digit in his hand and presses a kiss to the tip of it.

“Let’s…” he spits, holding on for dear life.

“Watch the game?” Steve beams, all giddy and proud.

[dookiecurly]

okay dookie.. hear me out on this one,I've been cooking this idea in my mind for far too long, please bring it justice.

sooo- reader is on board the tulpar with the crew, they're a happy-go-lucky cheerful individual with an extremely charismatic personality and are jaw-droppingly attractive. ( Glazing ik forgive me )

here comes the twist,just by pure luck or by some coincidence or the other,the crew finds out that the reader was a very very very popular model in the past.

[ they found some of their old MAGAZINES/PORNOS ]

not just any model- playboy/gravure models who used to be incredibly popular and and a hotshot,but left that career in the past to focus on bigger things in space.

How would the crew react? Or behave towards them after finding out about their past? Would they be attracted towards her? Please I need to know you write so well

Uhhhmmm uhmmmmm. . Ookayyyy..... Okay.

Imagine how Curly felt when he found out the new worker, WHO HE DID NOT LOOK UP AND DOWN BECAUSE I KNOW HE'S NOT A PERVERT BECAUSE HES MY HUSBAND YOU DIPSHIT, was a model! Plus, he can see your tits too. I guess, he came back to Earth and was just browsing around a random shop when he found the magazine. Usually, he doesn't even bat an eye at them because let me say this again HE'S NOT A WEIRDO. Not to say that all people who buy revealing girl magazines are weirdos (they are). But he saw your face and was so shocked. Like, wow! He doesn't confront you about it. The first time he saw you after he saw the magazine, Curly stares you up and down with the image of your bare body with a bikini on. Of course, when you're not looking. This only happened a few times before he got used to it. People change, and he doesn't have the right to pry into their personal life. If you do tell him about your old job, he wouldn't be super... Surprised. I can't tell if he'd tell you that he already knew or he'd just act like he didn't. You choose.

JIMMY, might be ecstatic. First time he saw you, pretty face, pretty body, oh he is PLOTTING. I'm sorry, it's the truth. Now, he's found a magazine of you! YOU! Basically naked. When he found that magazine, he fucking stole it. 1. He doesn't want to be known as those guys, 2. In this economy? For a fancy paged excuse of a book? Yeah, no. Sometimes masturbates to it. Jimmy would definitely use it as blackmail if you don't want people finding out about your old job. Might even use it to get into your pants.

Okay so, I've got two perspectives on this for Swansea. First, you're a young model. Maybe he thought you were a pretty face, but it doesn't affect him that much. Pretty girls are everywhere, he doesn't need to get a boner about. When he saw the magazine, he didn't give a shit. Hes too old to care, but if you tell him, he'll say that he already knew.

Second, if you're around the same age and used to be a model in your 20s but wanted to try out a new job. Swansea thought you were quite youthful and pretty for your age (he's jealous), but still doesn't think much of it until he hears your name. Of course, young Swansea, imo, wasn't into magazines as well. But, he definitely knows the names of a few models. Who says his old friends weren't weirdos? Then he just brushes it off like, "Nah, probably a coincidence. Millions and billions of people are living in the universe, there's bound to be someone with the same name". Then when you tell him, he's like... A little shocked... But goes back to work. Thats all.

Daisuke already knows. DON'T TELL ME THAT HE DIDN'T ALREADY KNOW WHEN YOU CAME IN. I have a feeling that he's either really into the news of celebrities (Oh, no! Y/N quits modeling at age __?!???? Outrageous!!!) or his friends told him. Within a few moments, Daisuke is already up to you, asking if youre Y/N. Gets a pic and an autograph, and now he's happy. Yay >3<!!!

Anya, i think would also kind of know a few models. But only the really popular ones. She strikes me as a person who used to daydream of being as pretty as the girls on the cover, but then grew out of it. I don't think shes an insecure person if we're talking about looks. When she sees you, she definitely notices that you're pretty, but won't say much about it. Maybe a compliment, but that's all. Probably won't notice that you're one of the girls on the cover, but when she does, she kinda just... Doesn't say anything. Again, I don't think she thinks it's her business. If you tell her when she already knows, she'll just calmly say that she knew. If she didn't know until then, she'll probably be a little shocked but thats all. Nothing extravagant.

[ineffable-endearments]

When you (generic, universal) talk about theories about the end of Season 2 and Aziraphale going to Heaven, you often run up against either:

taking everything at face value to the point of ignoring that some details contradict one another

or

accidentally nullifying major emotional, plot, and character beats by implying that they Didn't Really Happen.

A lot of the differences in analyses, especially ones that I like (LOL), can be explained by the fact that we're analyzing a character who is experiencing massive cognitive dissonance and believes a number of contradictory things at once.

Nobody is wrong to point out Aziraphale's need to Belong to a Good Cause, which makes his acceptance of the Supreme Archangel position entirely in-character; nobody is wrong to point out Aziraphale's anxiety around the Metatron, which indicates that he may have been coerced.

Did Aziraphale go back to Heaven because he's afraid of what will happen if he keeps refusing, or because the Metatron made an implicit threat? Did he go back to Heaven because he's vulnerable to flattery and wants to feel important? Did he go back to Heaven because he thought it would be a way to be permanently safe with Crowley? Or did he go back because he missed belonging to something Good, something bigger than himself? All of the above. It's all of them.

Yes, even though it's incredibly dissonant to believe a system that he KNOWS is dangerous and coercive can accomplish true Goodness, that is in fact his belief.

Admittedly, this is no one I follow - just random comments I see around from people I don't know very well - but it seems like some people out there are assuming Aziraphale can't possibly be making any plans to do anything remotely intelligent, because this would mean that he is already aware that Heaven is bad and would therefore leave no room for character growth.

Except no, that's not necessarily what it means. In fact, the cognitive dissonance is the main thing he is going to have to resolve. Having that dissonance - the belief that Heaven's ideals are genuine, along with the understanding that Heaven is dangerous and needs to be carefully manipulated - is what will move his plot forward. Mindless obedience wouldn't progress his story any more than magic brainwashing coffee would, and it would be equally inconsistent with his story and motivations so far.

The dissonance is the point. And part of the dissonance is that he already knows Heaven is dangerous - he just hasn't accepted what that means yet. It would make sense for him to simultaneously try to work within Heaven's system and watch his own back.

Also, only partly related: Neil might write a story about how the worst people exploit the need to belong and to be Good. He might write a story about how we have to become our own greater good. He might write a story about how to rebuild after you discover your greater good is not so great or good after all. He is not going to write a story about how having any faith or trust in something objectively bigger and stronger than yourself makes you a stupid clown who is wrong about literally everything and shouldn't have even tried.

Let Aziraphale fuck up. He needs to and he will. Whatever plans he was making in that elevator won't actually succeed. But give him credit where it's due.

Edited to add: And you know what? When he fucks up, he's going to get through it. And then he's going to do the right thing. And he's going to get it right when it matters the most.

[literaryuppsala]

Hello ❤ got a request. Can you please write about reader that used to be married to rollo and one day he just fucks off without telling the reader. Years later he got informed that the reader had gotten pregnant and that it was his child. Rollo wants to go back to be with his "family" but to do that he has to go through a trail of sorts. He agrees to it without knowing what it is. The trail being, him chained to the bed and having to watch as the reader gets fucked by everybody of the ragnarson family. He is close enough where he can hear and see everything but he is not allowed to touch the reader. And at the end he found out that the reader has gotten remarried to ubbe/bjorn/maybe even ragnar??? And that his child doesn't even know him and he gets kicked out 🤤😌

You can choose to do either just the men of the family including ragnar cause I want to see rollo suffer or you can choose to have the mothers/ wives with them.if you want to, have the reader blind folded so she has to guess who it is ❤

Basically make rollos life hell 😂

What a ride... I guess I never wrote something like that, I am THRIVING, it's filthy, it's messy, has a lot of fluids, and dude it took me forever to finish, like always... Anyways, I hope you like it AND YOU WATCHED THE PROCESS SO BE NICE TO ME! Thank you for your ask babe, have fun you pervert.

Warnings: ALL OF THE WARNINGS POSSIBLE, it's complete filth, pure smut, but with a little plot, not a lot, just a little to give context.

Minors, stay the hell away from this one, I'm not joking.

Sweet like justice, karma is a queen.

You were very young when you first met Ragnar and his brother Rollo. Your eyes crossed paths with them on one of their first meetings with your father, Horik. They were handsome, strong warriors, such a sight when you first saw them, caught your attention very quickly. The meetings ended up with an alliance, Horik and Ragnar decided to raid together in England, returning to Norway filled with treasures and a promise of land. 

A feast was prepared to celebrate, the treasures were shared between everyone but Rollo wanted something else, he wanted more. You didn’t mind at first when his eyes caught yours in the middle of the night, didn’t mind when he approached you and offered a cup of ale, you talked until everyone else was already passed out around you and you ended up in his bed that night. 

You really thought he loved you, he proposed to your father who gladly accepted and you married him just a few months later that night. He moved you to Kattegat, bought you a house and introduced you to his family until It became yours. But things changed, he changed. One day you heard about a woman he had in his life, someone he loved but died years before, and you thought that was the reason, that he couldn’t love you completely because part of his heart died with her and you learned to live like that. 

But Rollo was a different man, to be married to him wasn’t easy, he was demanding, ambitious, always thought he should be doing greater things, that he should be bigger. After years of marriage he became very distant and despite having his way with you every night, you were never able to conceive, you thought to yourself that something was wrong with you, that the gods made you that way and that was another reason for your husband to treat you like that. 

“I went to see the healer.” You told him one night. “She gave me a few herbs that can help.”  

“The gods cursed me.” He mumbled. “An empty woman who can not give me any child.” 

Ragnar was the one to always cheer you up, saying that you weren’t the problem, but his brother. He wouldn’t make a good father, he’d say, the gods won’t give him a child to raise. You never told Rollo about these conversations, he hated his brother and the fact that after Horik’s death, he became the king, something he thought belonged to himself. 

 “Your brother was looking for you.” You warned him as you put his plate in front of him at the table. 

“He came here?” He asked without looking at you. 

“Yes, he said It was important.” You continued. “I think it is about going back to Frankia.” You sat in front of him. “You should take me this time.” 

“No.” He answered simply. 

“Why not?” 

“It’s dangerous, and you have no business in Frankia.” 

“I’m a shieldmaiden Rollo, I wasn't made to sit back at home and take care of your children.” 

“What children? You haven’t given me any.”

They left to Frankia the next morning, Rollo left without saying a single word to you and something in your heart broke that day. Months later they came back, you were at the pier waiting, your baby bump showing and a big smile on your face, a few days after their departure you found out you were with child, and you couldn’t wait to tell Rollo about It. But as the ship docked, your smile died on your face. 

“Where is he?” You asked when Ragnar stood in front of you, his hand immediately touching your belly. He didn’t answer, but you knew, he stayed there. 

Later you learned Ragnar was betrayed by Rollo and defeated by Frankia’s army and the last news he had before leaving was about his marriage with a princess. Rollo had abandoned you without a second thought. 

Years later, you grew accustomed to a new life, your son was already five years old and growing stronger each day. Ragnar took care of you, accepting you in his house, he protected you and your child, who he named after one of his good friends, Leif, and he loved your boy, after his own boys grew into strong men, to have yours running around gave him life and so did you. 

You weren’t blind to Ragnar’s affection towards you, after Aslaug’s death he didn’t have anyone in his life except for you and despite being a sight for sore eyes, you weren’t interested on the men in Kattegat, but both of you never tried anything, maybe you felt wrong about that even though Rollo was gone for so long. However, he wasn’t the only one, Bjorn and Ubbe, Hvitserk and Ivar, and even Sigurd, all had soft spots for you, but you brushed it off and ignored it as something simple as a crush. 

One night, without a warning, a ship docked at the pier. People let Ragnar know about it, and he went there with both Bjorn and Ubbe, just to find a ship from Frankia, from where Rollo jumped. He frowned, confused by his brother’s presence, Rollo looked into his eyes and swallowed hard.

With a grunt Ragnar turned around, silently nodding for his sons to grab Rollo by his arms and drag him to the great hall. As soon as they got there, Ragnar took his place in his throne and Rollo was thrown on his knees, at his feet. You heard the noise from your bedroom in the back and walked towards It, standing in shock when you finally saw the man. Rollo seemed old, his once dark brown hair was filled with gray strands, so was his beard, he widened his eyes as soon as they met yours. 

“Mama!” You heard Leif’s voice and heard his footsteps running towards you, looking for you. He hugged your legs as soon as he found you. You grabbed him in your arms, Rollo’s eyes focused on the boy and a tiny smile showed up on his face, but that was quickly wiped by a punch, thrown by Bjorn. 

“Don’t look at him.” He grunted angrily. 

It didn’t take long for Ivar and Hvitserk to join you in the great hall, none of them seemed happy to see the man in front of them, neither were you. 

“What are you doing here?” Ragnar rasped.

“I want to come back…” He mumbled. 

“Seems funny… After all these years…” 

“I have every right to be here, to be with my family.”

“The family you abandoned…” 

“I’m here now.” 

“You say this like you’re some sort of treasure we should be proud to gain. Tell me, Rollo, what happened in Frankia to make you want to come back?” 

“I heard about my son, I want to know him.”

You hugged your son, like you could protect him from Rollo’s prying eyes.

“He’s not yours.” You growled. “He’s mine, only mine. Didn’t your princess give you any sons?” 

“Brother…” Rollo looked at Ragnar. 

“Don’t talk to him, talk to me, I’m the wife you abandoned!” You insisted but lowered his head again. “This is unbelievable…”

“I want to prove myself.” He answered. “To you…” He looked at Ragnar then moved to you. “And to you.” He sighed. “To the gods… I deserve that!”

It took a few minutes of silence between all of you, Rollo looking around searching for any sign of kindness, but you weren’t one to pity that man, not after everything he put you through. 

“Take Leif to the back.” Ragnar told you. “And come back here.” 

You didn’t understand at first, but nodded and took your son to your bedroom, asking one of the servants to stay there with him. 

“Don’t leave until I come back.” You told her under your breath, locking her inside. 

When you came back you found Rollo tied up to a chair in the middle of the great hall, Ragnar was standing in front of him while his sons waited behind him. He looked over his shoulders and offered his hand to you, you frowned but took it, walking until you were standing by his side. 

Ragnar grabbed you by your waist, startling you who quickly wrapped your arms around his neck for support when he took you in his arms, bride style, taking you to the nearest table, he sat you there, taking his place between your legs. 

“Do you trust me?” He asked under his breath, only for you to hear. 

“I do.” You whispered shyly and he smiled.

Ragnar took a cloth from his pocket and covered your eyes, your breath caught on your throat and you sighed heavily. You felt his hand feather touching your face before moving away from your body and you immediately felt the absence of his warmth. The next thing you felt was a pair of hands on your thighs and a warm breath against your cheeks, before you noticed, someone kissed you. 

The kiss was feverish, filled with a hunger you never experienced before, you’ve never been kissed like that. Teeth and tongue, saliva gathering on the corners of your mouth, a pair of hands meeting the base of your spine pulling you closer to the edge of the table, his thighs between yours keeping your legs open. He stopped the kiss to murmur against your lips.

“Waited so long to do this.”

You recognized Ragnar’s voice before he kissed you again, your mind spinning when your hands met his hips, unconsciously pulling him into you. His hands roamed down your shoulders taking down the sleeves of your dress. You felt a little self conscious and your body tensed, Ragnar distracted you by taking his kisses down your neck and collarbones, making you shiver. A “what’s this…” growled by Rollo sounded in the back of your mind and something twisted inside you, you felt excited.

Ragnar kept kissing down your chest, taking down your dress until your breasts were exposed, your breath hitched and your nipples hardened on the cold of the great hall. His mouth latched at your nipple, sucking on the little nub, your hands met the back of his head and you pressed his face against your chest, wanting more of that sensation. He did the same to the other nipple, using his hand to knead at the free breast.

Between your legs, Ragnar found the skirts of your dress, raising everything up your waist “Open your legs for me.” He asked against your lips and you obeyed, suddenly he moved away from you and stood by your side, your pussy now in full display for Rollo’s widened eyes. 

“What are you doing?” Rollo asked with gritted teeth. 

“What do you think?” Ragnar asked back, one hand grabbing a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back and making you whine. “I’m gonna fuck your wife.” 

With that being said, Ragnar kneeled in front of you, hands rubbing on your calves before putting them on his shoulders. His lips brushed against the side of your inner thighs, his beard scratching the soft skin as he peppered kisses all around until he shoved his face into your bare pussy, licking from your hole to your clit. Your back arched and you gasped, putting your arms behind your back, on the table, for some support, throwing your head back. 

Ragnar was something else while he was eating you out, with a little crowd watching, he wanted to  give them a show. With his face buried into your cunt, he was nosing onto your clit while teasing your hole with the tip of his tongue, then he worked through your folds, long and slow licks like he was savoring you, drinking from you. You suppressed a moan, still self conscious of the others presence surrounding you, earning yourself a low grunt that sent vibrations through your core and a harsh slap on your thighs.

Rollo’s eyes were glued to your body, he was growling under his breath, trying to get rid of the straps binding him to that chair. Ragnar moaned right into your pussy, he moved his tongue quickly and you started to grind your hips on his face, gripping his hair and pulling it slightly. His beard was scratching against the soft skin of your pussy, you could feel it rubbing against you painfully while he started sucking on your clit.

Your moans became louder, your hips moved on its own accord, your body was working on automatic, the knot on lower belly forming and tightening. Suddenly, two of his fingers were knuckles deep into your warmth, thrusting up inside you and you gasped: ‘Ragnar’ knowing damn well Rollo was listening to you. Ragnar could feel your walls clenching around his fingers, so he increased his pace, dragging more mewls from your mouth until the knot finally snapped and you groaned loudly. 

Ragnar stood up, turning on his side to stare at a nervous Rollo, his face glistening with your slick, he sucked his fingers clean off your juices and cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand. Moving away from between your legs, he held your chin, your fucked out face on full display for his brother’s sight. 

“Open your legs.” He ordered again, and you obeyed, showing off your puffy cunt. “Did you miss this, brother? Did your princess have a better one?”  

Once again he was between your legs, shimming out of his slacks and pulling his cock out. His hands quickly held the back of your thighs and pulled you further to the edge of the table, his tip featherly touching your hole making you whine. 

“See, Rollo…” He grabbed the base of his cock, rubbing it against your pussy and coating himself in your juices. “I don’t think you could ever have anything better.” He pushed himself in and both of you moaned in unison, fresh slick leaking out of you to coat his length. 

Ragnar threw his head back, closing his eyes as he felt your warm walls engulfing him, sinking into you slowly until he’s fully sheathed. He pulled back completely just to slam inside you again, he did that slowly a few times, like he was savoring every inch of you, until he was thrusting up inside you and he didn’t hold back. Holding your hips with one of his hands, the other met the space between your breasts, pushing you back until you laid down on the table. You whined, wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him closer.

“Gods…” You moaned, holding onto the table like your life depended on it. 

With your eyes covered, you felt everything more intensely, Ragnar’s body on you, picking up the pace until he was pounding hard into you, knocking the breath out of your lungs with every thrust. You clenched down on him and he gasped, hand squeezing your hip hard while the other kneaded on your breasts that bounced with every movement of your body. 

When he felt your thighs starting to tremble, he brought his hand to your aching pussy and found your clit, making quick work of your bundle of nerves with the tip of his fingers. You moaned again, loudly, feeling your orgasm approaching you, the knot on your lower belly starting to form. 

“Let go for me.” He begged under his breath. 

With a particular hard thrust the knot snapped, triggering Ragnar’s own release as he pushed himself to a hilt, his body tensing as both of you panted heavily. He leaned forward for a moment spreading kisses all over your stomach before moving away from between your legs, putting his trousers back and holding one of your knees to keep you wide open, his cum dripping from your pussy, onto the table and on the floor. 

“That was...” Ragnar mumbled, three little slaps on your knee had you sitting up straight. 

“Can I-Can I go now?” You heard as Rollo begged.

“What? No…” You felt when Ragnar moved away and heard some shifting around you, the thrilling feeling of not knowing what to expect had your pussy throbbing with need in a way It never did before. “We’re only getting started.”

You gulped, scared about what he meant, but excited at the same time. Next thing you knew, the space between your legs was occupied again, a bulky, slightly familiar body stood there like it belonged there, you shifted on your place, not able to close your legs and feeling again self conscious of your own nudity. 

“Ragnar…” You mumbled under your breath, a pair of hands touched the sides of your face before you were kissed. 

Even though you felt familiarity within the act, that wasn’t Ragnar, that kiss was different, passionate, but still unsure, It felt like he was claiming a new territory. His beard scratched the soft skin on your face, his teeth nipped at your lower lip, you couldn’t help but open up to let him in, you held his face and kissed him back. 

“Can I do this?” He mumbled against your lips and you recognized Bjorn’s voice. You gasped, surprised. 

“Bjorn…” You whispered, your hands started to shake. 

“I’ll be gentle.” He assured you, one of his hands touching the side of your face. “I promise.” 

You felt your heart sinking to your stomach, like it was beating there, the blood in your veins ran fast and your body quivered, your mind was spinning, when his hands found the swell of your pussy you whined in his mouth, turning your head to the side giving him room to work on your neck. Bjorn sucked and nipped your skin like an artist painting his masterpiece, taking his sweet time while his fingers worked through your cum wet folds. 

He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that another man just fucked you minutes ago, by the feeling of it, he seemed turned on. Two of his fingers entered you when his mouth found your perky nipple and you moaned, arching your back offering him more of your chest. You were overstimulated from your previous orgasm and the sensations Bjorn was bringing to you, your peak wouldn’t take long so you clenched around his fingers and worked your hips in sync with his movements. With his thumb he started to nurse on your clit, rubbing the small bead in tight circles until you came on his fingers, a loud, long moan filling the great hall. 

Bjorn wasted no time after this, you felt him standing up and shimming out of his trousers, sinking into you in one swift motion. You gasped, not used to the way he stretched you out, and threw your head back, making room for him to kiss on your neck. He sheathed inside you, not pulling out immediately, just grinding against your hips first, his hip bone teasing your clit. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist and arched your back, leaning back over your hands. He used both of his hands to grab your breasts then leaned forward to catch one of your nipples with his mouth, sucking on the perky buds. It was messy. Wet with your own arousal and Ragnar’s cum, you could feel it dripping from your core. 

Slowly, Bjorn pulled out completely, just to thrust back in. He did this a few times, dragging soft mewls from your mouth. With his hand between your breasts he made you lay down on the table once more, picking up his pace. You held onto the table while he started to rut against you with full force, your body jolting back and forth. His mouth was skillful on your nipple, going from one to the other and still using his hands. 

“You feel so good…” He mumbled, one of his hands leaving your breasts and quickly finding your clit. 

You moaned loudly. With two of his fingers he pinched your clit, then dragged his finger around in tiny circles. The pressure on your belly started to build and you squeezed your eyes shut, even though you weren’t actually with them open to start with. Your mind could only focus on his movements, you clenched around his cock and he growled, speeding up his fingers and his thrusts. Bjorn was fucking the air out of your lungs as he fucked you like his life was on the line, his cock throbbed inside you, the sound of skin slapping against skin was filling the great hall and was so loud. 

“Enough.” 

Somewhere, on the back of your mind, you heard Rollo’s beg, but as your climax approached you could only think of this. Bjorn’s thrusts started to falter, he became sloppier as he chased his own release and you were right behind him, feeling the pressure on your body finally explode. You came around his cock, clenching down on him with a wanton moan. He came right after you, feeling you to the brim with his seed, grunting raspily. 

He wobbled away from you and you whined at the sudden emptiness. He leaned against the table trying to catch his own breath, eyes still on your fucked out body on the table. Unconsciously, your hands went to the cloth on your eyes, almost getting out of the way but a cold hand on yours stopped you. You whined impatiently but before you had the chance to complain, the same hand grabbed a handful of your hips, dragging you out of the table until you stood on the ground.

There was this silence, the only thing in your mind being the amount of pleasure going through your veins, you could feel your heart hammering against your ribcage, your breathing uneven, chest rising and falling rapidly while you tried to ease your body. Your hands traveled to the body in front of you, holding his shoulders while he kept his firm on your hips. 

You had no idea who he was, you felt his body against yours, the familiar scent you were used to feeling but couldn’t recognize him. His hips met yours and you felt his hard cock against your core, making you moan. Taking your face with both of his hands he kissed you. His kiss was calm, soft even, nothing like the sexual spiral you just got out of. His hands explored the sides of your body with care, like you would vanish from his sight at any moment. 

The mess between your legs made you painfully aware of what just happened, either way his fingers found their way to your core, his tips exploring your folds, he coated his fingers in the your slick, the mixed cum inside your pussy, then he pushed his middle one all the way in, til he was knuckle deep inside you. You sobbed and threw your head back when he started to kiss down your jaw so you could give him more space.

His kisses met your neck, he circled your clit and that made you jerk in response. Suddenly his fingers were inside your mouth and you whined at the taste on your tongue. You started sucking on his fingers, obscenely licking through it and he groaned when under his breath, you licked him clean.

He stretched you out with his fingers, pumping in and out of you as he kissed down your chest, your body arching, right thigh rising up his waist opening up a little more for him. He curled his fingers up finding your sweet spot and making you see stars behind your eyelids. You started to grind down on his fingers while the sound of your moans resonated around the great hall. He licked down your collarbones and your legs started to shake, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. 

You felt like your body was on fire, shaking violently until the knot snapped and your orgasm hit you like a punch. You  clenched hard on his fingers, body falling limp on the table, but before you had the chance to ride your own high, your body was pushed and turned around, your back hitting his chest, you could feel his hard cock on your behind, listening while he struggled with his trousers, pulling down his legs til the middle of his thighs, just enough to free his cock from its confines. He teased you with the tip between your ass cheeks and you teased back, grinding on his hips, silently begging for him to just slide in. 

He lined his cock to your wet folds, enticing another moan from you and then he pushed in, his tip stretching your walls. You gasped, fingers holding the table for support while you felt him sliding only a few more inches in. His hand rubbed up your back until he grabbed the nape of your neck, you grunted feeling him leaning your body forward, your breasts pressed against the head of the table while he started to thrust up into you. 

He was fully inside you when he used his free hand to pinch on your clit, making your body jolt, your walls fluttered around him, a choked whine slipped through your lips as he went deeper. He picked up his pace quickly, hands now on your shoulders tugging your body back to meet his thrusts, your body trembling when you felt the pleasure building up once again, extremely sensitive from everything that already happened to you. You both moaned loudly, he was lost on you just like you were on him, every thrust was powerful and deep, stroking every nerve ending inside your pussy. His hips slapped against yours, the table shaking with his movements. 

“Gods…” You cried out, feeling the pressure on your lower belly. 

He cursed under his breath, feeling your walls clenching hard around his length, his own climax coming through while you felt the first impact of your orgasm. Your entire body froze as he fucked you through the haze, coming inside you a few seconds later. 

“That’s your idea of punishment?” Rollo growled, his voice far away like It was in another room, your mind still dizzy with pleasure. “Are you punishing me or her?” 

“Her?” Ragnar scoffed. “I’m not punishing her, brother. Watch It… She likes it. She wanted It.” 

You felt a pair of hands wrapping around your waist and your body was gently sat on the table again, the mess between your legs just growing by the minute, staining the soft skin of your thighs and leaving you slightly bothered. A kiss on your forehead had you trembling even more, so you raised your hand trying to hold his.

“Who…?” You couldn’t finish the phrase, but your hand was softly removed and you were left alone. 

“It’s done, I’m done!” Rollo tried one more time.

You heard Rollo’s begs one more time, his voice was shaky and you imagined his face. If you remembered correctly at this point he would be all red and sweaty and your tummy twisted with excitement, you shouldn’t like this as much as you were.  

“Well… We’re not.” Ragnar answered carefully. 

For a moment nothing happened, you sat there with your body trembling. The line between pleasure and pain was thin and your body had started to complain about It. Suddenly you felt someone taking the place between your legs one more time but despite being so tired, your mind seemed to have other plans, your skin prickled at the warmth engulfing you, another familiar scent wrapping your whole body. 

He didn’t waste any time, he kissed you… Kissed you like he craved you, feverishly. His lips moved in sync against yours while his hands roamed through your sweaty body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, hugged him with your legs feeling his hard cock against your abused cunt. You were too sensitive, your body was hot all over, and even though It was telling you It couldn’t take it any longer, your fucked out brain wanted more. 

You grinded against his hips and started to fumble with his trousers until you freed his cock from its confines. You grabbed at his length and he moaned in your mouth, waiting for you to align the head of his cock against the pulsing entrance of your pussy and you cried out at the new intrusion, feeling incredibly sore. 

Overwhelmed by pleasure, you started to grind against his hips again, urging him to fuck you. With both of his hands on your hips, he set an excruciatingly slow rhythm, distracting you with his mouth on your neck, he started to paint your skin in dark bruises. You cried again, threw your head back while letting your hands on his shoulders, digging your nails into his shoulders to anchor yourself, like his body was the only thing keeping you grounded, keeping you from floating away. 

With one of his hands, he started to play with your clit, massaging the sensitive nub between his fingers, dragging more mewls from your lips, making you writhe against his strong grip. His cock was unrelenting, picking up his pace as he started to fuck you hard and deep, your sensitivity only amplifying the waves of pleasure that crossed your veins. Your pussy fluttered around his length and he knew you were close, hips bucking to meet his thrusts, the spongy head of his cock was pressing directly against your g-spot and you moaned loudly. 

You felt his hand snaking up your chest until it found your neck and he pressed for a moment, your breath hitched, caught up in your throat and you clenched down on him. You got lightheaded and his thrusts became sloppier, you could feel he got lost in yourself very quickly and arousal twisted in your stomach, you felt flattered. 

He gave a chucked off groan and for a moment you imagined who it could be, which one of them was fucking you this time, the great hall was filled with his grunts and the wet squelch of your pussy. 

“Faster… Please…” You managed to mumble. 

Your pussy was clenching desperately around his cock and he was throbbing inside you, he was close too, you could feel it. He fucked you hard and faster until he sheated tightly into your pussy holding you in place as he came, triggering your own orgasm. You came so hard your mind went blank, your body spasmed and you went limp in his arms. He held you strongly so you wouldn’t fall, your head on his shoulders as you breathed heavily. He rubbed your back for a minute before he pulled out and after making you sure you were firm, sitting on the table, he left. 

“I-I… Ragnar…” You raised your hand blindly and seconds later you felt his fingers intertwined with yours.

“You’re doing great for me, my love.” He whispered, lips on your sweaty forehead. “Can you give me one more?”

“I don’t know…” You breathed.

“I know you can, you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” He kissed your lips. “Give me one more so we can take care of you.” 

We. You noticed the weird choice of word and felt him when he kissed your knuckles. We. What did he mean by that? Your thoughts were cloudy when his warmth surrounded you again, he picked you up in his arms and you immediately wrapped yours around his neck, laying down your face on his shoulders, letting him carry you wherever. 

Ragnar sat you down on someone’s lap, when you felt a pair of shaky legs right under your body and nervous hands wrapping around your waist. He turned you around, made you put one of your knees on each side of that body and just like that he left. There was a nervous silence between you two, but you were close enough to feel his shaky breath against your cheeks. 

Suddenly, he used one of his hands to take off your blind fold, you blinked your tears away, trying to get used to the new brightness. You focused on the image in front of you and met Ivar’s widened eyes staring back at you. Ivar was nervous, but you could sense his arousal in the way that he watched you, intently following down your body, from your face to your collar bones and your chest, your soft belly and your exposed core, he gulped. 

You stayed like that for a moment, only looking at each other like you were trying to read each other’s minds, you almost forgot about the little crowd watching you two but as his eyes wandered over your shoulders you were reminded. 

“C-Can I kiss you?” He stuttered and you nodded dumbfounded. His lips touched yours slightly, shaky and cold, you didn’t kiss him back at first, then he pulled back, looking at you with a frown and a little pout. “You don’t want to…”

“No!” You were quick to respond. “I want to. I really want to, Ivar.” You reassured him and his expression softened.

You cradled his face between your hands and kissed him, this time deeply, your tongue teasing his as you felt his hands pressing on waist, pressing your body down. When you pulled away, he was gone, glossy eyes staring back at you as he choked out a whimper, following your face with his eyes still closed, reaching for your lips. 

He sighed and opened his eyes, he frowned again, so impatient. You touched his lips with your thumb, fluffy and wet from your last kiss and he licked the tip, you shuddered. Being that close he seemed so young to you, kinda lost in his own feelings and sensations, so different from the Ivar you knew, he always seemed so sure of himself. 

Ivar opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but as you rolled your hips down his lap he gasped, that seemed to erase every trace of thought in his head, he just closed his eyes and whimpered, throwing his head back. You used the chance to latch onto his neck, groaning quietly against his skin. Gods, you were soaked. It was definitely not like you hadn’t been fucked into oblivion by four men already, you were ready to get lost one more time. You licked his skin, sucked and nipped, leaving behind tiny red marks, basking in the sounds he was making. 

“Can I?” You asked him and he nodded, that was the only permission you needed to come back to his neck, to start rolling your hips over again. 

The rumors about the young man not being able to satisfy a woman were the biggest lie, you thought to yourself. You could feel him getting hard under your body and the thought of having him inside you was driving you mad. 

“I’m so wet for you, Ivar.” You murmured against his ear, only for him to hear you and he whimpered again, thrusting up his hips a bit. 

“For me?” He whispered breathlessly and you nodded, tracing his lips with your thumb again before kissing him feverishly. 

“Yes.” You grabbed his hand and put it between your bodies, his fingers met with your core, rubbing the mess of fluids on your pussy. “Will you help me?” 

He nodded, dumbfounded. You used your hand between your bodies to grab his cock and started jerking slowly, his lips parted as he gasped for air. The fact that these small touches were bringing so much pleasure to him was even more exciting to you. Your faces are so close you can feel his breath against your cheeks, your lips almost touch and his fingers trembled between your legs, nervously moving between your folds. 

Abruptly, you intensified your movements, he choked out a groan and closed his eyes, precum was leaking from his tip, making it easier for you to slide your hand up and down his cock, that pulsed and twitched in your hand. Quickly you moved it away, standing up a bit to line up his cock with your entrance, he looked at you like you were some sort of goddess, silently worshiping you, shaky hands wrapping around your waist as you sat down his length. 

“Gods… Please…” He groaned when he felt your warm walls engulfing him. 

You placed your hand on his shoulders as you fucked yourself over his cock, slowly moving your hips up and down. You brought his hand back down your body and started to use his fingers to massage your clit.

“Like this?” He asked in awe. 

“Yes…” You answered under your breath. 

Quickly you started to bounce on his cock, riding him like your life depended on it. The great hall was filled with Ivar’s small grunts and your breathy moans. You squeeze at his shoulders and threw your had back, he kept his fingers in your clit, drawing hard circles on your little nub just like you taught him and you could feel him twitching inside you, you knew he was close and so were you. 

You moaned with every thrust, you hunched over and kissed him, his arms wrapped around your waist and he pushed you down on his cock. You felt his release and he moaned loudly against your mouth. Your own high coming down hard on you as you clenched on him, cumming for what felt like the thousandth time that night. 

You laid down on his shoulder for a moment, trying to ease your breathing as you came down from your orgasm. He hugged you tightly, thumb drawing small circles on your back and you could fall asleep right there, you closed your eyes and your consciousness almost abandoned you for a moment, that’s when you felt someone taking you up from Ivar’s lap and you whined, feeling empty and sore. 

“I’ll take care of you.” Ragnar mumbled in your ear. “Take him out, we don’t want him here.” 

You imagined he was referring to Rollo who was finally silent, or maybe you just stopped listening to your surroundings. In Ragnar's arms you did fall asleep, waking up again only when you felt a warm cloth between your legs, you quickly moved away from the touch but was stopped by a pair of hands on your legs. 

“I’m just cleaning you up.” Ragnar told you and you opened your eyes, finding him sitting by your side, you looked around and recognized his bedroom, the furs were soft against your skin and you were extremely tired. 

“Was I good?” You asked under your breath, reaching out for his hand, which he really took, taking it to his lips, spreading kisses all over it. 

“So good...” He said it against your skin and you smiled tiredly. 

After cleaning you up he snuggled by your side, covering your bodies with fur and putting your head on his chest, rubbing your hair as you slowly fell back to sleep. 

“Our best girl.” Was the last thing you heard before drifting into slumber. 

***

[rubberduckyrye]

You know I've seen quite a few people say they're wanting to make v3 rewrites lately--and as someone who is actively working on one by myself, I feel like I should give some advice. I know I'm nowhere NEAR done with Twins AU, but I've made a ridiculous amount of progress and I think these things have greatly helped me out personally

So here are my tips for making a V3 rewrite and actually making it stick/not to burn out before the first chapter!

This is important. Don't try to please everyone. You will never please everyone. Write this for yourself, and you will find an audience. People can and will hate your fic no matter what you do. Don't try to please them, they are not your target audience-- so Write this story for, first and foremost, yourself. It'll feel so much more rewarding if you do I promise.

V3's main theme is extremely muddied due to how the narrative was and how open ended the game was left, and from my own research, no one can agree on what V3 was trying to say about truth and lies, or Reality and Fiction. If you want to rewrite this story, you're going to need to narrow down what you want your rewrite to say about the themes presented.

PLAN THE EVIDENCE AND MURDERS AS THOROUGHLY AS YOU CAN. I think not knowing what I was going to do for the cases and trials really scared me for the longest time until I essentially sat myself down and fleshed out all of the cases for Twins AU. Make evidence lists, do research on how your murder cases might go, the works. It's a lot of work but I personally followed this post and also made an evidence list to help me out plot out the murders for Twins AU. This is also a great way to flesh out your protagonist as well, since you get to explore their note-taking style and what kind of language they'd use for taking notes and if they have opinions about certain things.

Write a summary of each character in the story. DR games have a big cast and V3 has an even BIGGER cast than usual, so it's good to write down summaries for all of the characters. I also suggest really studying each character too, even if you plan on changing a character to better suit your tastes (or to get rid of offensive material.... looking at you Angie) you still want to keep the core of their character intact for fans of that character.

Speaking of characters, make sure to try and remember to write each one as a human being, even if they aren't human (Kiibo for example). Develop them, give them quirks and flaws, motivations and wants and desires and dreams. Even if you hate a character, doing this much character study will help you keep them in character and keep their motivations reasonable and understandable.

If you don't have a good grasp on a character, study harder. Don't go looking for other people's interpretations or try to be a crowd pleaser. Make your own interpretation, and that interpretation becomes special to your rewrite.

If you plan on changing a character, for the love of GOD do your research first. Don't go accidentally making Angie into a worse racist caricature of Pacific Islanders Please and Thank You. Actually, just do a ton of research in subject you think might be relevant to a character or the plot--like Gonta and how ableism prevails in his story. Like how Shuichi has anxiety up the wazoo and how Maki has learned helplessness. Study and research hard.

Pace yourself--I don't think people realize how GIANT a V3 rewrite project is--remember that this game is extremely long and you cannot write this in a single month. Once all of your planning is done, write a reasonable amount for it each day. For me, I'm able to crank out 2k a day because I type absurdly fast, but most people would probably want to start at maybe 500 words a day.

If you're not having fun, step back. You might be burnt out and need a break, or maybe the scene you're writing is just not working. Take time to assess your own feelings and do what is appropriate to resolve them.

Don't feel too discouraged if you need to rewrite a whole scene--it happens to the best of us and sometimes things are just not working. It's not lost progress to retry--consider the scene you are replacing as a rough draft you need to remake. I've had to erase huge 1k chunks due to this.

Reward yourself for big accomplishments! When I finished the prologue, I threw myself and my editor ( @trans-shuichisaihara ) a pizza party, and I plan on doing something like that again, albeit probably cheaper. Reward yourself for huge milestones! Hell, I owe myself at least one treat for two chapters I've written, but tbh I've been having so much fun just writing that doing so is rewarding within itself. That doesn't mean external factors can't help, so if you finish a chapter and you're proud of it, buy yourself a treat for working so hard!

If you got a friend who likes editing/beta reading, invite them to beta read for you! They can help you find errors and typos that you might've missed. If you plan on editing your fic, I highly recommend reading your writing out loud to help you find weird sentence structures and awkward phrases. This should have the bonus of making it easier for people who use screen readers/just prefer audiobooks to enjoy your fic as well!

EDIT! Here are two more:

It's okay to be scared writing something new! Getting out of your comfort zone is going to happen with a giant story like this, and maybe you're going to flop at the best parts. That's perfectly fine!!! You can always edit it later--or even just call it "good enough" and move on! This is fanfic for fun, not a professional project you're making money off of. It's okay if things are less than ideal and incredible imperfect. An imperfect story is at least written. That's better than not writing it at all.

For the love of everything that is holy, remember that the characters should be people--and remember that their talents do not make up their entire personality. Their talents should not solely dictate what they wear, how they act, or the worst offender in this fandom--how their executions go. When writing a character Execution, think instead of what would be the worst way for that character to die--that is to say, what would bring them the most despair upon their death. DR1 and DRV3's executions all play with the despair of the blackened in each execution (with DR2 being noted to heavily miss the mark and to be the set of executions that are the most disappointing to Kodaka, from what I've been told.) So if you're stuck on writing a new Execution, try to think about what each execution from DR1 and DRV3 does to play with the despair of the blackened. What about their executions are giving them despair in their final moments? Do they at all relate to their talents, or are they completely separate from their talent? Study them, and you'll be able to use that information to write your own unique executions that are miles better than most of the fan made executions out there.

And I think that's my advice for now! Happy writing, everyone!

[thattimdrakeguy]

I HAVE BEEN READING ZDARSKY BATMAN, AND I HAVE DECLARED: I FREAKING LOVE IT!!

I'm reading the Batman Zdarsky run in reverse. That way if I see any bull I can back out at anytime: and to be honest--besides a few things. I really enjoy it

LIKE YO, THAT IS JUST STRAIGHT UP TIM DRAKE RIGHT THERE. It knows who he is as a character. his motives, it's great.

Screw the people complaining "oh why is tim still robin :((", THIS IS WHY HE IS STILL ROBIN. Because this is when he's at his BEST. When he gets to hit his character purpose, WHEN HE GETS TO BE HIM AT HIS MOST HIM. It's FANTASTIC.

Reading in reverse because I know I hated the first story, it was so contrived and ridiculous.

But this--this is some good shit.

Tim being an underdog fighter, having to use his wits to win the fight? MY DAWG, MY DUDE, MY GUYS, MY GALS, MY THEMS, MY THEYS, THIS IS SO TIMMY DRAKE. This is so damn Tim Drake, guys. Oh, my gosh, I am loving this so far.

Dick has his temper back? And trust me, he isn't normally like this. But he's hitting a limit AND IT'S SOMETHING NEW, NOT JUST A REFERENCE. HE'S ACTUALLY DOING SOMETHING HE'D DO, 'CAUSE HE'S AT HIS LIMIT. That's wonderful, man. That is so wonderful.

Plus Tim is the heart of the Bat-Family again? This feels like someone actually went back to read these characters before writing it. I'm not saying everything is perfect of course, but these high marks are exceeding all my expectations. And I STOPPED reading comics because of how the beginning of this run destroyed any hope I had.

You guys have no idea how much I'm enjoying the few issues I've read. Besides the cussing (I remember after a bit they decided Tim was someone who used funny words instead of proper cusses), this feels like the Tim I know and love during the era I especially loved him.

Tim comparing himself to his predecessors? Tim not being a natural? A WRITER REMEMBERING THAT?? It's been so long since I've seen that! Most writers treat him like he was another prodigy when he wasn't. AND THIS GUY REMEMBERED THAT!

I shouldn't be so happy at just seeing Tim do Tim things, and serving his character purpose. BUT YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG IT'S BEEN SINCE A WRITER KNEW WHAT TIM WAS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE.

Only complaints I have is that Jason feels like a typical Bat-Family member, and not the sketchy outsider that he is. Making him so close makes his character more bland in my opinion. And Steph is--also generic af unless she's wacky quirky...which is a characterization I hate for her, because she started off so damn interesting, but they made her a freaking trope instead, which is such a disservice to her, but she barely does anything so far, so whatever I guess. Doesn't mean much.

--

This is the first honest thing I've seen that I hated.

No

Not this

This isn't the Bat-Family

This is a sitcom world the fandom wants to be the Bat-Family and some comply with

They're not a sitcom. The conflicts, and uniqueness of the characters is what makes things feel alive and well.

This stuff is cheap fanservice for the fanon demographic that doesn't buy comics to begin with.

Fanon doesn't belong in canon.

--

I mean sure Tim could be drawn smaller, the gag of him looking 12 when he's nearly 18 doesn't work when he's bigger than Damian who is 15 (and contrary to some bullshit comics isn't meant to be small. that was a random thing added for writers who aren't clever to write better humor. it actually contradicts things that were already established).

Don't see the big deal though for most of this.

Can't wait to find it, though. Oh boy.

This whole obsession with Zur Batman, is way over done though. So--I wouldn't be shocked if that was the problem, because my golly does that plot point not seem to be stopping--and it was there from the start and part of the reason why I didn't read it 'til now.

Good Tim tho, at least. So heehee, yey for that--I think--I guess.

Oh, well.

It let me peak at a pseudo-version of an AU I made up years ago. So that's pretty freaking cool.

Always a plus.

And redoing Red Robin story beats but better? Normally I'd hate references to Red Robin, 'cause that changed the perception of so many characters for the worst, but ayy, a bit of redemption isn't bad.

Man, just seeing simple stuff like Tim and Bruce being good ol' classic Batman and Robin warms my heart. It's been so long since Batman and Robin has acted like a proper classic Batman and Robin. It's dynamic that's been sorely missed by many.

OH, MY GOSH, WHY DID THE FIRST STORY HAVE TO STINK SO BAD. THIS STUFF IS GREAT.

Like, DUDE, this is such a Tim thing for him to do!!

And he's showing emotion?? He's crying like how he does?? Because he's not a typical Bat-Family member who just angsts his way through?? THEY'RE MAKING HIM STAND-OUT AGAIN BY MAKING HIM, HIM??

WHY DID THE FIRST STORY HAVE TO SUCK SO BAD?? THIS IS GOOD SHIT.

Like this part is why I originally stopped reading, not because Bruce should think Tim is his soldier, and not his son, THE FREAKING OPPOSITE.

But because the original story has Bruce acting weird when unneeded, just to say this was so unneeded, and adding in all these stupid corny Bat-Family moments was so groan worthy.

This run started off with a story that was a total turn off for me.

To end up being a run that could've kept me enjoying DC, rather than running away from it from as far as I have.

Chip Zdarsky started off awful, but really, he ended up great.

And I've seen people complain about his run, and TRUST ME, there's stuff to complain about. But I have only ever seen the stuff worth complaining about, or stuff I WOULD complain about.

WHEN MOST OF THE RUN IS GOOD

At least when Tim is around.

Go figure.

Maybe I should've paid sole attention to how he wrote Tim and nothing else at the very least for that first story.

'Cause even in the first story, Tim was well-written--it's how cheap the rest of the story telling was in that first story that turned me off--and the weird knew about the movie plans that I am still fully judging harshly. (Love the new Superman film suit, though)

[thankskenpenders]

As I'm sure many of you are already aware, Did You Know Gaming (who have been doing some really great investigative work lately) recently put out a video on canceled Sonic games. The whole thing's worth a watch, but I have to bring it up here specifically because they talk about the plans for Sonic Chronicles 2 with a LOT of new info directly from the lead designer.

The section on how the story of Sonic Chronicles 2 would have went starts at 9:45. It's very interesting! He outlines the whole plot, including the fact that they were going to end with ANOTHER obvious plot hook for a sequel in the hopes that they or some other studio could keep the Sonic Chronicles series going indefinitely. Sonic Team even claimed they were interested in using Chronicles characters like Shade in other games. It's crazy to imagine a timeline where this might have become a pillar of the franchise.

I refuse to mourn the loss of the sequel, though, because y'all saw me stream the original. It was miserable. And with the original game selling and reviewing decently well, they would have had little reason to go back to the drawing board and overhaul that game's bizarrely hateful design.

Of course, DYKG also had to talk about the reason why the game was canceled. I was dreading this because of how often people tend to get the basic facts of the Penders cases wrong or downplay the obvious Archie Knuckles inspiration in Chronicles. But no, they did their homework! And they got the details right in part because, well... they asked Penders for comment directly. And he sent them back a MASSIVE wall of text about the whole ordeal, including some fascinating details that I don't believe I've heard before!

You can go to 15:19 in the video and scrub through to read the many, MANY screencaps of their emails from Ken, but here are the most interesting and/or hilarious tidbits to me:

#1: Perjury!

As we already knew, Ken claimed that the incomplete, photocopied contract Archie presented in court was a forgery, and that he had never signed a work for hire contract.

The judge obviously knew that one side had to be lying here, and thus was more than willing to present the case to a jury to let them decide the truth... and send whoever was deemed the liar to jail for perjury. (The judge apparently looked Ken directly in the eye when he said this, which... well, make of that what you will.)

Archie's lawyers knew that they didn't have a completely airtight case and obviously did not want to go to jail. So they decided to settle instead of going to trial in front of a jury.

(I will reiterate that Archie's arguments not working out is overall a GOOD thing, because we really do not want to set a legal precedent where corporations can "lose" a contract for a creator, make up a story about what was on the contract, and then have that hold up in court. They gotta get that shit in writing. And they didn't. They fucked up!)

#2: Sega was threatening to revoke the Sonic license!

As we knew, Sega wanted nothing to do with the comic copyright lawsuit. To them, it was Archie's job as licensee to deal with their freelancers. (Y'all watch Succession? You know how Logan loves lackeys who will eat shit for him without him having to even hear about the problem? Yeah.) And, in fact, according to Ken, Sega gave Archie an ultimatum: if they wanted their license to make Sonic comics renewed, they were gonna have to deal with Ken on their own, and cover all the costs.

Yeah, uh, this kinda makes me think that Sega being pissed about the ongoing Scott Fulop copyright case in 2016 may have been a bigger factor in Archie Sonic's cancellation than I previously thought. There was a lot going on at the time that could have contributed, but, y'know.

Anyway, Archie sued Ken for "damaging their business" largely because Sega was threatening to take away the Sonic IP. But because Archie couldn't ask Sega for help and they couldn't produce an original contract, they had to settle.

There's another detail I find funny here, though. Ken WANTED Sega to get involved in the comic copyright case, thinking that Sega would strongarm Archie into paying him the millions of dollars he wanted for "using his work without permission" so that they could be done with it. I mean, sure. I guess Sega wouldn't have cared about Archie's finances, but still. I'm not so sure that would've worked out for him.

#3: Shade!

Yes, Penders still claims he legally owns Shade, and under advice from his lawyer still intends to put out an NFT of her to put his claim to the test. Yes, it's incredible that he still hasn't put out the damn NFT. It only needs to be one image, which he already drew! The market has collapsed!

Anyway, building an argument off the legal concept of estoppel, he says that if Sega continues to not do anything about his claims that he owns Shade then, in the eyes of the court, they'll be forfeiting their claims to Shade altogether. But they aren't going to do anything because they never wanted any part in the copyright battles in the first place, and to them Chronicles is a long dead asset not worth fighting over. Why bother trying to use Shade again and giving Ken a reason to take them back to court when they can just move on? It's not like this franchise is short on characters. And so Ken can say that Shade and Julie-Su are literally the same character, and if he owns Julie-Su then therefore he also owns Shade.

Our copyright system is, indeed, a nightmare. Chronicles should have been halfway to the public domain by now.

#4: Sega's oversight on the Archie comics!

Ken says that in his first year on the series Sega only requested some dialogue changes here and there through the editor. They never requested huge script changes, and also never spoke to Ken directly. After that first year, they stopped asking for dialogue changes altogether, and Ken "had a free hand to do pretty much whatever he wanted." Yeah, no surprise there.

He does, however, say that Archie's original deal with Sega stated that they weren't allowed to create ANY new Sonic characters without informing Sega. They would've needed to make a contract every single time to get Sega's approval and make it absolutely crystal clear that Sega owned the whole cast. And then Archie just... didn't do that! And didn't tell any of the freelance creatives not to come up with new characters! Had Archie followed this rule, the trajectory of the comics would have been completely different, but there also never would've been a copyright battle in the first place.

What a shitshow. Truly.

[adobe-outdesign]

Kung Fu Panda 4 Rewrite Thing

Been chewing on this movie for a while now and wanted to take a shot at improving it. Some parts are a bit rough but I think this gets the general idea across.

As a rule, I'm trying to keep most of the characters and elements/plot beats in place rather than spinning things off in a completely unrelated direction. I also am aware of the restrictions placed on this movie, such as an unwillingness to rehire high-profile VAs and runtime limitations. This is just meant to be a "what if" kind of thing. That said:

We open with a stylized sequence of Po telling the story of his and the Five's latest battle. As it ends it's revealed he's at the grand opening of Mr. Ping's brand new bigger, better noodle shop location, talking to the customers.

As one of them asks where the Five are now, Po explains that they got summoned to their own individual missions, but they'll be back soon.

(Yes I am still having them be MIA, as Po needs to be alone with Zhen for part of the movie. However, they'll only gone for the first part of this rewrite and for a very specific plot-related reason.)

(The thing with Po needing to give up his title of Dragon Warrior makes no sense for multiple reasons, so let's just drop that plot point entirely. I get that it's meant to tie into the "change" moral, but I'd rather have Po imparting this lesson onto Zhen instead of learning it himself, as otherwise it undermines the character growth he had in 3.

Also, Po isn't carrying the staff around with him constantly in this rewrite, as it looks a bit silly and isn't plot relevant here.)

A messenger shows up to report that the Jade Palace is under attack. Po decides to rush over just in case Shifu needs backup... which he does, because he's being kidnapped in a small one of those magic-proofed cages from the actual film.

(Shifu being kidnapped was tossed around in the writing room originally and I want to keep it in this rewrite because it A) gives Shifu something to do, and B) I want to allow Zhen to openly be working with the Chameleon in order to help flesh out her character and avoid the lackluster plot twist, meaning she'll need new leverage against Po later on.)

The figure behind the kidnapping appears to be Master Elephant, which confuses Po as he's been missing for several months. Right as he's about to land a finishing blow, the figure shape shifts into Master Chicken, throwing Po's attack and resulting in him getting a bad head injury. He does his best to pursue the attackers, but can't keep up. Dismayed, he returns to the Jade Palace...

...And finds Zhen trying to steal something, using the commotion outside as a distraction. Po fights, but he's still badly injured and can't give it his all, resulting in Zhen being able to slip away with her prize—a dust bunny from under the furniture. Po is baffled.

(Side note: I would probably redesign Zhen so she actually looks like she matches the other characters' style, but I digress.)

Feeling dismayed, he returns to the noodle shop, where both his dads work on treating his wounds and comforting him. As Po explains what happened, Mr. Ping mentions that customers have been circulating rumors about a shapeshifting sorceress in Juniper City. Po decides that that's where he needs to go, promises his dads he'll be safe, and leaves.

(I'm cutting Mr. Ping and Li's subplot, because as much as I love them they don't really add much to the plot. It also feels like it goes against Mr. Ping's characterization in KFP 1 and 2 in particular.)

This is where we can have the scene of the Chameleon vs. the crime bosses. This can mostly stay the same except one of the bosses attempts to attack her when she shape shifts, causing her to retaliate with a magic-based attack. She also needs to straight-up kill the guy to establish her and her sorcery as a legit threat.

Po arrives at the Happy Bunny tavern to look for a ride to Juniper City. As he talks to Fish and Chip, he notices Zhen nearby doing some black market trading with Granny Boar to obtain a white feather. Po confronts her and she tries to run out with the feather, causing the boar family to pursue in a big fight scene.

Po and Zhen manage to escape, Zhen stashing the feather. Po threatens to have her sent to jail, but Zhen confirms she's working for the Chameleon and can lead Po to her so he can rescue Shifu. Po dislikes this situation, but has no choice but to agree.

(Unlike in the actual film, I would make it so her lair is hidden in some fashion; magic that keeps it camouflaged would be appropriate for a chameleon, or it could be underground or hidden behind something. Regardless, it should be impossible to locate without Zhen's assistance.)

On the boat ride over to Juniper city, Zhen says that she has to "obtain" one more item from the local history museum or she'll be in big trouble with the Chameleon. Po doesn't like this detour, but once again has no choice in the matter.

Po asks why Zhen would want to work for someone so obviously evil, and this is the point where Zhen admits she was adopted by the Chameleon and we get her backstory.

(I would establish that the Chameleon has an actual name, but only Zhen uses it. It shows that Zhen is closer to her than most, not quite seeing her as a mother but not fearing her enough to use her preferred title. Also, the Chameleon's the only KFP villain without a proper name and that bothers me.)

The backstory can be the same, but the part about her living on the streets and meeting the Chameleon for the first time should be merged into a single flashback.

Zhen says that Po couldn't understand, but Po reveals that he's also adopted, and that he probably would commit some noodle-related crime if his dad asked him to. Still, Zhen insists that people don't change, and that includes her.

They arrive at Juniper city (Po is impressed at its size but he very much is not acting like he's never seen a city before). Zhen covers up her muzzle and tucks her tail under her clothes so she won't be recognized.

Zhen is ready to break into the museum, but Po says that he's got this and goes up to the guards to tell them that he has some official Dragon Warrior business to take care of and will need to borrow some ancient artifacts.

Unlike in the actual film, everyone ready acknowledges him as the Dragon Warrior. The guards are more than happy to loan him whatever he needs... until Zhen's tail pops out and the guards recognize her, prompting them to attack.

During the scuffle, Zhen uses a chi blast to knock back one of the guards, but almost gets taken out by the other guard coming up behind her. Po defends her but gets mildly injured as a result.

After the fight, Po asks about the chi move and Zhen states that the Chameleon taught her the basics.

Zhen confirms that the Chameleon is a master of chi, and that the sorcery she uses is a specific type of chi manipulation.

(The reason I'm connecting chi to her powers is that it makes them feel a bit less out of left field, and helps 4 feel like a logical progression from 3.)

Zhen admits that she's not very good at using chi, but Po points out that it took him years to use chi in battle. He also compliments her on her kung fu, and she confirms she's self-taught.

(In this rewrite, Zhen is good at fighting but not quite at the level she is in the actual movie. This is to address the issue of who taught her if the Chameleon doesn't know kung fu.)

He takes a moment to give her a few pointers, which causes her to ask why he took that blow for her earlier, figuring there's a catch. Po just says it's the right thing to do, but Zhen is skeptical, figuring he only did it because he still needs her to lead him to Shifu.

The reminder of Shifu prompts Po to move on, and they grab the item Zhen was after, a 500 year old set of blades, then run for it.

Po and Zhen arrive at the Chameleon's lair, and Zhen shows Po how to get inside and tells him where Shifu is being held. She says that she'll take the items to the Chameleon, which will distract her while Po breaks him out. Po thanks her, and the two separate. Zhen warns him of booby traps on the way out.

There are indeed booby traps, such as those saw contraptions from the actual movie and a bunch of guards. It takes Po a few minutes, but he eventually gets through them.

Po finds Shifu being held in a dark room. Shifu is glad to see him, but warns him to be careful as the Chameleon's likely not far away. Po explains Zhen's distraction and moves to free him... only for a cage to fall down and trap him as well.

"Shifu" is then revealed to be the Chameleon in disguise, who slips through the bars via shape shifting into a mantis and thanks Zhen for her help. Zhen apologizes to Po, who's naturally upset ("I mean, I know you were evil, but I didn't think you were THAT evil").

Zhen hands over the three items she collected, and it's confirmed what they are: a dust bunny that contains a clump of Tai Lung's fur, a feather from Lord Shen, and a pair of blades once wielded by Kai.

Po mistakenly interprets this as the Chameleon being a collector of kung fu memorabilia and tries to chat about the Jade Palace's collection, much to her bafflement.

The Chameleon explains that a trace of a person's chi remains long after their death, and demonstrates by doing The Tongue Thing on Kai's blade, stripping its chi, and immediately taking his form.

(As you may have picked up on, this rewrite removes the spirit world elements entirely. While they are really interesting, I think cutting them is the best option because:

1. There is so much plot involved with bringing Po's old enemies back that you could make that an entire movie in and of itself. It's hard to do it justice when you're cramming it in around the edges of this movie.

2. It makes the Chameleon too similar to Kai in terms of abilities.

3. Having her rely on stealing other's kung fu makes her come across as weak despite being a powerful sorceress.)

Po asks her if her goal is to take over China, but she says no; she just wants to end the practice of kung fu for good, and prove that sorcery is the superior option. To prove it, she has Shifu brought in.

While having your chi stripped does not remove one's kung fu abilities in this rewrite, it is still removing part of one's life energy and thus weakening them severely for a period of time—ergo, Shifu is still unable to fight at his best. Still, he manages to hold his own.

Instead of using kung fu, the Chameleon relies on the brute animalistic strength and inherent abilities of the forms she takes, switching whenever she's loosing to keep her opponents on her toes and even transforming into Shifu himself for a period. She also uses a few chi-based attacks.

Just when it looks like Shifu is about to win the fight, she uses her tongue to strip the chi from the fur clump, taking the form of Tai Lung. Shifu is so shocked and distraught that he fails to attack, allowing the Chameleon to land a serious blow.

She returns to her original form and states that when the blood moon has risen, she will battle and take down every master in the middle of Juniper city, where everyone can learn just how useless kung fu and the people who teach it are. She leaves Po in his cage panicking over Shifu, who's unresponsive.

Zhen follows the Chameleon outside, where we get the "does the blood moon always rise so slowly" gag. Noticing that Zhen looks troubled, she asks what's wrong, and Zhen talks about how Po encouraged her to do the right thing. Even though she's been told that kung fu masters are elitist, selfish people, she couldn't see any of that in Po.

(Side note: I want to establish in this rewrite that while the Chameleon will claim up and down that Zhen is only a pawn for her to use, she does care about her to some extent, even though probably loathes the fact she does. For example, when talking to Zhen here, she might pick some rubble out of her fur or something to show there's a teeny tiny bit of actual affection hidden there.

The reason for this is that all other KFP villains have had an emotional anchor—Shifu for Tai Lung, Shen's parents for Shen, and Oogway for Kai. The Chameleon being abusive but having some real love for Zhen and Zhen struggling with her gaslighting adds a lot more depth to both of them.)

The Chameleon finally reveals her backstory, which should be told in a hyper-stylized way à la the flashbacks in KFP 2 and 3. Just like Zhen, she grew up on the streets as an orphan, broke and starving. She admired kung fu greatly and wanted to learn it, but everyone turned her away for having no money to pay for lessons.

One day, she found a shiny jade amulet on the streets that someone lost, finally giving her a much-needed break. She is able to use that money to enroll in classes.

The problem was that while the money changed her financial status, it didn't change the way people saw her. Her master still considered her a lowly gutter rat and treated her as such, verbally insulting her and beating her down during training sessions. It's very much like how Shifu treated Po in KFP 1, except worse, especially because the Chameleon is a small and fragile animal.

Finally, during one training session she became too injured to move. Her master told her to quit and started to walk away, only for her to grab his leg with her tongue to trip him up. However, at the peak of her self-loathing, she instead discovered her chi stealing abilities and transformed into him. It's not shown, but it is implied she killed him.

As the flashback ends, the Chameleon shifts into Zhen and tells her that no matter how much you change, you can't change the way other people see you. Siding with Po, she says, will only get her hurt. Zhen nods and unexpectedly hugs the Chameleon, telling her she knows, and runs off.

Cutting back to Po, we see him frantically trying to break the bars of his cage. Zhen comes forward and drops down on her hands and knees, apologizing for everything. Po says that she came back, and that's what matters.

She reveals that the "hug" was actually just a way for her to get the key off of the Chameleon, and she uses it to unlock Po's cage. Po runs over to Shifu and he and Zhen heal him with chi, and we get a callback to the "I'M NOT DYING YOU IDIOT" scene from KFP 1.

However, while Shifu's not dying, he is very badly injured and can barely walk on his own. Po asks how they can take on the Chameleon and her army with just three of them, but Zhen holds up the key and suggests they get an army of their own.

Running downstairs, Zhen reveals where the other masters are being held. To Po's shock, the Furious Five are among those captured. Tigress confirms that the summons they received were traps laid by the Chameleon, and she already has their forms.

Also down there are the other crime bosses, as it feels like they just disappear in the actual film after their scenes.

Zhen only manages to unlock the Five's cages before before the Chameleon snatches the key back with her tongue, revealing that she knew Zhen was lying to her. Behind her, her army assembles.

Tigress confirms that that the Five will take on the army, and Po faces off with the Chameleon one-on-one. She strips the feather and uses Shen's form to fly up and take the upper ground, trying to kick a cage onto him. Zhen helps deflect it, and the Chameleon tells her to stay out of the way. Po and her continue to battle.

Despite Po's best attempts at blocking it, she does finally stick him with her tongue. He grabs it and throws her a distance in her fragile base form, injuring her but still giving her some of his chi in the process.

The Chameleon takes on Po's form next, and we get a fight similar to the one in the movie, though once again with her using less kung fu and more magic and physical attacks.

She mentions how she was rejected and tries to tell him that he should be on her side, because a bit fat panda like him must have been treated just as badly as she was. Po denies this, but Shifu admits it's pretty accurate. Po says he's not helping.

Po admits that she has a point, except she forgot one thing, and we get a callback to the "I'm THE big fat panda" moment from KFP 1.

The two attack at the same time. As the dust clears, it's revealed that neither are doing great—Po has gotten a lot of little injuries and the chi stealing has weakened him. The Chameleon is struggling to shapeshift at all, with the attempt causing her pain, and instead settles for trying to blast him. Zhen steps in and manages to redirect the attack back at her.

The Chameleon takes the blow and ends up back on the floor as a parallel to her flashback. Zhen reaffirms that she disagrees with her worldview—people can change, and she's going to prove it. If the Chameleon wants get to Po, she'll need to get through her first.

The Chameleon kind of laughs this off at first before realizing she's dead serious. She states that Zhen isn't even good at fighting, but Po disagrees, giving Zhen a confidence boost. The Chameleon struggles to her feet as if readying an attack, everyone braces themselves... and she surrenders, too injured to fight and unable to bring herself to hurt Zhen.

(There are a few reasons why I think her surrendering makes for an interesting defeat here:

1. There's no spirit realm portal to yeet her into in this version;

2. There's only so many times Po's enemies can be yeeted directly into the spirit realm before it gets old;

3. It adds character depth, and;

4. It ties back nicely in to the theme of change and that it's never too late to do the right thing.)

Zhen helps the Chameleon up, Tigress does the same for Po, and Monkey does the same for Shifu. The five reveal that despite being exhausted, they still managed to wipe the floor with the Chameleon's army, which Zhen thinks is incredible. Po introduces Zhen to them formally, and Shifu asks if they can save the introductions for after they get medical treatment.

Later on, Po (carrying the staff Oogway gave him) approaches Zhen, who's sitting under the peach tree by the Jade Palace. He asks her if she's doing okay after everything that's happened. She says she's alright, but is pretty scared of what's going to happen next, given that the Chameleon's in jail and she has nowhere to go.

Po reveals that him and Shifu have been talking, and he plans to open a new school as part of the Jade Palace that will offer free kung fu lessons to anyone who's interested in learning. Zhen asks if there are any spots open, and we end similar to the actual movie, with her training alongside the five.

the credits still end with the Jack Black cover of Baby One More Time because it slaps

[rise-my-angel]

I did some rewatching of scenes from House of the Dragon, and I think I've found a root problem with the writing.

And it isn't what was or was not adapted from Fire and Blood, or the plot or characters directions. There are issues there, but there is a bigger one I think that has been severely under analyzed. A massive problem with this show that has a big impact even when you don't realize, is how clunky and unnatural 90% of the dialogue is.

Something Game of Thrones did right, was take the dialogue from the books, and translate it to the screen by simplifying certain things, tightening sentences and changing wordage so that the actors had an easy time delivering the lines. It was a really good mix of the more formal speech and casual delivery. It meant lines that are good in the book, are good but different in the show because they cleaned up the dialogue so it didn't sound forced from the actors.

Everyone gets to speak in the appropriate manner for their class level, but it also is just quick and to the point. The actors all got a chance to do an amazing job, because they weren't forcing their talent through clunky and awkward to say dialogue.

House of the Dragon, is not doing this.

A significant amount of dialogue in this show takes way too long. Characters constantly use very overly formal, flowery, and fanciful language to say the simplest things even when they are alone in a room. Game of Thrones through all it's faults, knew how to cut to the chase and get the characters to just say what they are meant to say without trying so hard to sound fantasy like. But in HOTD, everyone talks like the writers are trying way too hard to make everyone sound like their from a different time when in reality it just bogs the show down and makes it boring.

A lot of good actors on this show fall flat because they have to force through awkward dialogue that normal people just don't sound like when they speak. Whenever Rhaenyra and Leanor discuss their marriage, it is so painfully unnatural. They are alone in the room, and neither of them ever just say what they mean.

When we saw this exact dynamic. As soon as Renly let the veil slip that he is struggling to go through with having sex with Margaery, she drops the act entirely and just cuts to the chase saying, "There's no need for us to play games." They are a bit more formal in the way they say things, but they still talk like real people. Rhaenyra and Leanor never had a single discussion that wasn't overly flowery as both characters talked around an issue we already understood. Laenor is gay and its putting a strain both on his personal mental health and their marriage as a whole. But neither of them ever get to the POINT without taking way too long to say the most basic of things.

Watch back to back scenes from both shows, and you will see that House of the Dragon completely fails to immerse you in it's dialogue beacuse it is trying so hard. Take the scene where Jace returns home after meeting with the Freys. Rhaenyra knows Jace is troubled about not being allowed to participate in the war, and this is the initial start of that discussion.

Rhaenyra: "You chafed at being prevented from action. Imagine my lot. I'm a dragonrider as well, with a war being fought over my ascension. And yet, I must wait here. Always prudent, sending others to fight and be felled in my name." Jace: "You are the queen. The tie that binds us. No harm can come to you." Rhaenyra: "And you are my son and I did not give you leave to go."

If I showed you that out of context, would you be able to tell me this is a mother and son disagreeing over their separate wants and choices during a war? No. It's full of words no one in Game of Thrones used in normal conversation. This is not how even highborns in this series talked to each other, this is writing dialogue in a way that is trying to sound like it is from a more medieval fantasy instead of just what real people sound like.

Neither actor delivering these lines sounds natural, neither can really portray the degree of frustration brewing between them when its being forced through this kind of bad writing.

Now take the same idea from Game of Thrones in a scene where Robb and Catelyn are in an argument over Robb's trust in Theon and Catelyns perceived frustration that Robb isn't putting priority on his sisters safety.

Robb: "Now I'm the one rebelling against the throne. Before me, it was father. You married one rebel and mothered another." Catelyn: "I mothered more than just rebels, a fact you seem to have forgotten." Robb: "If I trade the Kingslayer for two girls, my bannermen will string me up by my feet." Catelyn: "You want to leave Sansa in the Queen's hands? And Arya, I haven't heard a word about Arya. What are we fighting for if not for them?" Robb: "It's more complicated than that! You know it is."

Both use more formal language, but it's in how their sentence is structured rather then the words themselves. They're alone and they're both frustrated and they have absolutely no reason to mince words, they say exactly what they mean. By cleaning up the dialogue here to be more straight forward and simple, it allowed the actors to really shine. You truly feel Catelyns frustration stemming from her helplessness, and you feel Robbs understanding being overpowered by such a frustration that she won't understand his side. By the time Robb raises his voice and shouts at her, we don't take it as out of line because both of them have said exactly what they mean and the audience doesn't need Robb to apologize to know he didn't mean to yell and neither does Catelyn.

Not even the lowborn characters are saved from this in House of the Dragon. Theres a scene in Game of Thrones when Arya, Lommy, Hotpie, and Gendry are arguing by a stream about battle's and armour and they are all quick, talk over each other and it's very punchy and the flow is part of what makes it hilarious. Ser Davos is blunt and speaks with a very quick cadence to emphasize he was never taught to speak formally and thus feels comfortable saying exactly whats on his mind.

Most of the lowborns in House of the Dragon though, have very little differentiation from their highborn counterparts in the way their dialogue is structured. Some of the only differences is literally just, characters like Ulf have a lowborn accent, but that accent delivers the same kind of drawn out, overly formal dialogue that isn't present in Game of Thrones lowborns. It's very easy to distinguish who was raised how in the simple manner which they speak.

Highborns talk slower and more clearly and their sentences are structured a bit better, and lowborns normally talk faster with less refined accents and normally have no real issue saying whats on their mind because they are used to being surrounded by other people who don't care about being formal.

It might not be obvious, but the dialogue is a big reason why people struggle to connect to these characters far more then they did Game of Thrones. The dialogue is clunky, there is no distinction made as to why certain people talk this way or why it seems everyone around them speaks in the same manner when they have no reason to.

There's so much more to get through, to understand what these people are saying, thinking, and feeling because the dialogue works against them. The best acting is done, when the characters are silently reacting to each other because there's no fighting against bad writing to portray exactly what they need to.

Again, there are multiple comparative scenes that you could watch back to back and see this problem play out in real time. Scenes discussing similar issues or portraying similar emotions but House of the Dragon never reaches that emotional peak that connects it's audience to these characters as relatable, because we pick up on the fact that they don't talk like humans. They talk like they are performing a school play, not as if they are speaking like real people just talking to each other.

Try it yourself, the examples I used earlier. Say each set of lines out loud and deliver it with as much emotion as possible. Because I am willing to bet that the Game of Thrones dialogue will be a lot easier to say, and thus a lot easier to deliver with a real emotion.

There's no excuse. Game of Thrones took good book dialogue, and cleaned it up so it had a smooth transition into good show dialogue. House of the Dragon has the freedom to write most of it's own original dialogue since Fire and Blood is written as a historical record and not a pov narrative. There is no transition to make lines from the book that in full may sound clunky and unnatural out loud, into something clean and to the point that makes it easy for the actors to work with the dialogue instead of against it.

But House of the Dragon fails in inventing it's own dialogue, because at every turn it is trying way too hard to sound like the books instead of the show.

Trust me, you wonder why you can't connect, relate or really care about a lot of these characters? I'm willing to bet that the poor writing is doing a lot of heavy lifting for that.

If the characters don't even talk like humans, our brains are more likely to tune out, because it all sounds like actors reading a script, not characters speaking to each other realistically.

Real people talk like the characters in Game of Thrones. No one talks like the characters in House of the Dragon.

And that is a massive problem.

[simpxxstan]

what about softdom leaning switch!dokyeomie..

thank you for requesting this BECAUSE I AM OBSESSED WITH HIM! this is my first time writing nsfw headcanons without any proper plot (?) so i'm nervous. hopefully you'll not regret requesting this!

this is part of my 550 followers celebration event! find the rest of the content of this event here! the event ends tomorrow (31st July) at 12 midnight UTC. if you wish to request anything (although be warned, i write very slowly), my inbox is open. to those who have requested, thank you for being patient! i'm going to answer them all i promise!

warnings: nsfw minors do not interact implied established relationship with fem!reader, nsfw headcanons. not tagging everything here to avoid spoiling the content but nothing extreme (lmk if you still want me to tag something)

thinking about softdom leaning switch!dokyeom:

who cannot fathom being rough or mean to you, making him literally the softest dom ever. the primary reason he still doms you is likely to be because of your natural size difference (dokyeom LOVES how much bigger he is than you and how he can use his strength to give you pleasure). the second reason is because his life's aim is to pleasure you- thereby making him a service top.

picture him fucking you facing each other literally all the time. EYE CONTACT AND KISSES. my boy needs validation from your expressions and non-verbal behaviour that he's doing it right. missionary, cowgirl, on the tabletop, on the bathroom sink, on the kitchen counter, on a chair. eyes on him.

he doesn't mind the place and time if a. you're willing and in the mood and b. he gets to make you happy. dokyeom, being the energy ball he is, has a high sex drive, and even very little can get him horny. naturally, the two of you have done it EVERYWHERE. concert venue backstage. cafe washroom. shopping mall trial room (yes he got hard when you tried a really pretty dress for him and could. not. hold. back). even the bathroom of one of the member's houses when all of svt and their partners are hanging out.

punishments? dokyeom hasn't heard of it. not into spanking or edging- he would much rather give you as many orgasms as humanly possible. however, this leads to you getting overstimulated without him even realising it. you enjoy it to a certain extent but when it gets a little too tough to bear and you tell him the same, he immediately starts apologising so much and kisses you all over and stops whatever he was doing and lets you rest EVEN if he's still hard. he would much rather jerk himself off if needed rather than seeing you in pain.

not particularly kinky, rather he's a bit old-fashioned. so he's not into roleplay during sex, not into torture or pain, and definitely not into degradation. but his breeding kink is intense. dokyeom's fantasised about having a family from a very early age, and now he's found his perfect partner, he absolutely goes wild about it. (he tracks your ovulation period with you and tries to convince you every time to let him breed you full of cum whenever you fuck during that time. you tell him no but you let him fuck you without a condom those nights, taking the plan b pill afterwards without miss. after the high of the orgasm dies down, he curses himself for pushing you too hard and apologises for wanting to fuck you without a condom. who's gonna tell him the truth?)

BUT i think he's definitely into using toys to spice up things in the bedroom. also into filming your sexy time together. you do it more for him because he seems to LOVE it. he's out of town for a lot of time, so finding a video where you're pole dancing for him has him giggling, blushing, and nearly coming in his pants at the same time. when at home, he doesn't use a lot of toys except maybe a vibrator, but when he's away he asks you specifically to pick out certain toys to help yourself (and him too) to get through nights- like that time he bought a monster dildo for you and you filmed yourself riding it for almost an hour (it was so incredibly hot, seeing you babbling and drooling at the constant stretch but dokyeom got worried for a moment that you'll never like his cock after taking a bigger one. who's gonna tell him the truth?)

and it's the sex toys that bring out the switch in dokyeom. what's better than you riding him and pulling his hair towards your chest until he's sucking mindlessly at your tits as you milk him dry? you pinching his nipples using nipple clamps and  tying his hands back so that you can touch him and kiss him everywhere but he absolutely can't even touch you like he so wants to.

talking about tits: dokyeom is obsessed with them. he loves your entire body, but your boobs are the absolute cherry on top of the cake for him (pun not intended). he's just so happy that he has full access to your pretty breasts all the time- for him to kiss when waking up, for him to sleep on while napping, for him to tease with his ridiculously large tongue when he's in a particularly wild mood. he wants them all the time- video call sex? "baby show me your tits once please" and he cums as soon as you do. quickie? you're blowing his cock, and he's bending down to fondle your soft tits. mirror sex? his eyes are FIXATED at your tits. doggy style? he's groping your tits as his balls slam against your ass. morning cuddle? he makes you wear his softest t-shirts and nuzzles against your warm chest.

unsurprisingly, his love for your tits also enables a little bit of his submissiveness. he may or may not want to suck on your tits while you work on your laptop. he may or may not focus more on rubbing his spit on your tits instead of the film you both are supposed to be watching. he may or may not go cross-eyed watching your tits when you're on top of him, fucking yourself on his dick, during make-up sex (you're bouncing so harshly on him, he can't feel his legs anymore and he's completely at your mercy).

and he particularly loves to be taken care of whenever he's had a bad day and heard something negative about his looks or performances. (words are insufficient so you show him how manly he is, how handsome he is, how he's an all-rounder and how he's born for the stage. he worries he takes too much from you, and he's a burden. who's gonna tell him the truth?)

his biggest fetish perhaps is clothed sex. he LOVES dressing you up in beautiful clothes and lingerie. and there's something so exciting like unwrapping layers of you- each layer more mysterious and pretty than the previous. he loves the subtle sensualness of clothed making out- the way he can touch your thighs through a slit in the dress, the way you grind shamelessly on his dick when it's separated from your wet pussy by the soft cotton of his trackpants.

all in all, he's a 100% romantic partner through and through. which includes eye contact during sex, holding hands when he ruts into you and constant kisses and praise every second of the day, in and out of the bed. it goes both ways- he loves being praised too, all shy and soft, blushing whenever you call him sexy. (he tries to do that thing again and again, hoping he can be the sexiest man in your eyes but he thinks he's hoping for too much. who's going to tell him the truth?)

[ch3rriiii-bunn]

Sex work

Paring: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!reader

Synopsis: Spending money on a hot male sex worker♡

Content: Slow burn (?), virgin y/n / virginity loss mentioned, y/n is mentioned to be in her late 20's near 30, nail salon business y/n, sex worker toji, dilf toji, rich y/n mentioned, light aftercare, birth control mentioned, praising/light degrading, creampie, Dom toji, hand holding, choke hold, names such as "baby, princess, good girl" used

Word count: 5.5k♡

A/n: I've been wanting to write about tojis sexy ass but never had a plot. Now I do🤓☝🏾

"Oh, come on, y/n. Don't give into society's pressure and think you have to lose your virginity," your bar tender friend said, with a sincere smile on her face as she handed you a cocktail. You let out a deep sigh as you took the drink and took a big gulp of it. "It's not society making me feel this way. it's just... I'm almost 30 and still a virgin." You said.

"And that's not a bad thing," your friend reassured you. "I know, I know. I just want to experience sex. I want to know how it feels to get aroused by someone eles hands on me other than my own. To feel desired and lusted for.. I'd go on dating apps, but I don't trust that, and the men we see on a daily basis aren't exactly my type." you explained with a sour face.

Your friend laughed, hearing about your sexual frustration. "Yeah, none of these guys are your type. I can look up guys in my man's friend group for you to hook up with," she teased and hit you playfully. You chuckled, "Thanks, but I'll get over it. I'll take another cocktail. Since I'll be finishing this one soon," you joked and gave your friend a sad smile.

Your friend gave the same smile back and turned around to get started on making you another drink. You held your empty glass with both hands and had a moment with your thoughts. Was the sexual frustration really getting to you? Or was it just disappointment and embarrassment that you wouldn't get to experience that part of life as you age on.

You could have sex with any man who was as desperate to lose their virginity, but your pride wouldn't allow that. You wanted to have sex with a man who was your ideal type. A man who is more experienced and knows how to pleasure a woman. A man who's much bigger than you. Taller, weight wise, or muscles, it didn't matter. It turned you on just at the thought.

Your friend made your second cocktail and gave it to you for you to start sipping on it. You were silent. Lost in your thoughts, tipsy even and not being as alert to notice that someone had sat down beside you at the bar counter until he spoke. "I'll take a beer," a deep voice said. Your eyes shift from your drink to see a big veiny hands almost slam down five dollars on the counter to your bar tender friend.

Everything happened in a second. You glanced at this man, and your eyes widened a bit to take in just how handsome and attractive he is to you, and then your eyes turned to your friend. She was already looking at you with the biggest grin on her face, already knowing what you're thinking without words being said. However, you both couldn't make this awkward, so you looked away from each other so your friend could do her job in the moment.

"Coming up. How's your night going, sir?" Your friend took his money and began to get him a glass of beer. "No need for the formal introduction. The names Toji," He said with an exhausted sigh and held his hand out to grab the drink that was soon given to him. "Didn't get paid much tonight, so that has me pissed," Toji said and began to chug down half the beer.

Your friend raised her brows in a teasing way and eyeing you to look at Toji again, and you did just that. He had such nice, jet-black hair, and he looked so good in his baggy pants, along with his tight fitted black t-shirt. The alcohol was definitely getting to you since you wouldn't usually stare, but you couldn't help him. "He's just so fine," you thought to yourself.

Once Toji put his glass down with a deep sigh from chugging down that much of his drink, he turned to you. Toji's face changed into a frown of annoyance as he watched you staring at him. "What are you looking at?" He said with aggression in his tone. Your friend quickly stepped in to defend you in case things got out of hand. "My friend is just tipsy. She didn't mean to," she said.

"Sorry." You gave Toji a light smile and went back to finishing your second cocktail. Toji didn't reply, but now, he's the one looking at you. "Could've sworn I've seen you before," Toji commented, which made you raise your brow in question. You couldn't recall seeing a guy like Toji around, and you thought hard if you really saw him around but nothing came to mind and you shook your head.

"Maybe you've seen me, but I haven't seen you before. I own a nail salon business called [business name] in different locations. I go to those locations when I can so.." You smiled nervously, not wanting to be rude but also hoping Toji could provide more of an explanation to what he's saying. "Yeah, that place. I have a daughter who gets her nails done religiously at that place." Toji chuckled.

"Really now?" You asked and watched Toji nod his head. "I guess the location you work at is the main one. I always gotta wait with my friend in the car until she's done. My daughters name is Tsumiki. Tsumiki Fushiguro," Toji said, and you gasped lightly. "Yes, I do know her. She comes by at least once a month." You chuckled. "Now that I think about it. She would always mention to me how her dad would get impatient when waiting. So technically, yeah, we did meet. My name is y/n." You introduced yourself

"Yeah. Your work is good, but you take so damn long," Toji chuckled. "So... Do you want another beer?" You grinned, with some shyness as you attempt to flirt with Toji. "Didn't you hear me before? I said I didn't get paid much this time, and I gotta save-" "I asked you if you wanted another beer. Who said you'd pay?" You cut him off and giggled at his surprised expression.

Toji wasn't used to having another woman buy him something like this, but how could he pass this up? Toji had the biggest grin on his face and moved his chair closer to yours, and put his arm around you. "Might just spend all your money if a pretty woman like you is gonna spoil me." Toji flirts and then turns to your friend. "Bring us two more beers," he said.

You and your friend both made an excited face and squealed softly at each other for your accomplishment of getting Toji to get some interest in you. You and Toji started to have a good night for the past 2 hours at the bar, especially since it was a Friday and the bar itself got more lively as the night went on with music playing and rounds of drinks. You and Toji didn't drink till drunk, but you drank and became very flirty with one another throughout the night.

You gave the heads up to your friend to let her know you were good, and she went home for the night. After her shift was done. You had good conversation with Toji up until the topic you originally had with your friend came up since Toji did come into the bar just as you finished that previous conversation and he just had to ask about it. "Huh? You're still a virgin? Are you waiting until marriage or something?" Toji raised his brow at you as he laughed at your confession.

However, you didn't laugh. It may seem funny to him, including others, given that you're almost 30. You can't blame them, but it was embarrassing. You ended up scoffing at Toji's question and looked away from him. "No, I'm not waiting. Plus, if I did wait, I'd definitely die a virgin." You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.

Toji grinned at your little outburst. His arm was still around you, and he brought his hand to your face and pinked your cheek to annoy you more. "Tell you what. I know some guys who'd be willing to have sex with you, but you'll have to pay them," Toji suggested. You raised your brow in question, "And how would you know that Toji?" You smirked. "Cause I'm a sex worker, pretty girl. How else would I know?" Toji smirked back at you.

That came to a surprise since you didn't expect Toji to be a sex worker, let alone be ignorant to believe sex workers like this still exist even in the year 2024. You took a moment before opening your mouth to say something bold at Toji's suggestion. "You'd rather have me spend my money on another sex worker when you have the opportunity to ask me?" You chuckled but then stopped once Toji's big hand rest on your thigh.

"I suggested other guys cause they are used to taking virgin clients. Unless you'd want your first time not to be so... vanilla," Toji teased, but he wasn't wrong. Sure, you wanted things to go slow only cause you never had sex but you definitely didn't want vanilla sex. You were more freaky than that, and you knew it. You had to swallow your shyness to properly communicate in order to take Toji for this opportunity.

"What thoughts are going through that pretty head, mm?" Toji whispered in your ear and bit his bottom lip lightly with a smirk as he watched your flustered expression. Toji already found you attractive, but now? You were getting this man excited, and he rarely gets excited during these talks when getting a client. "I'm just thinking... I don't have to look into other sex workers you may know since I'd like to take you... if that's okay," you asked softly.

"You're cute." Toji brought his hand to your head and began to mess with your hair. He was so annoying. You slapped his hand away and frowned. You watch Toji reach into his back pocket and pull out a black card. It stated the sex work origination toji works with, and it said his name, along with his phone number. "This is my number. Text me, and then I'll have my boss send you an email for us to have an appointment together." Toji winked.

You stared at the card and then took it to put in your bag. You pulled out your phone to check the time to see that it's 3am. Toji leaned closer to see as well and then looked at you. "Think you can get me an Uber to get home." Toji asked, and you raised your brow at him but decided to do it since you wanted to go back to your house too and typed in the location gave you.

"Broke ass," you joked. As you added two stops, you're house and then Toji's.

The next week, you went back to work. You texted Toji after the weekend, and you've been chatting with him. It was normal talk, just to get a better sense of each other, but you felt like a teenager texting your crush. On another Friday, you got an email from Toji's boss. You opened your perosnal lap top to fill out thr form. Toji mentioned previously that the form would be easy to fill out.

It was things like consent for this and payments and then some other morning stuff until the last question that was added by Toji. "What the fuck!?" You said to yourself in your break room alone and just like that, your phone started to buzz in your pocket. You checked to see who it was, and lo and behold, it was Toji. You picked up and said hello.

"Hey. Did you get the form?" Toji asked. "Yeah, I did.... but I have a question" You asked, and Toji hummed for you to continue. "Um... how come there's a question asking, "Do I like getting creampied or nutted on my face?" Wouldn't that be asked more... I don't know. Professionally?" You asked, still having that shocked face. "Yeah, but I changed that. If you want me to cum in you then you have to be on birth control. Cause I can't handle another kid" Toji laughed.

"I am on birth control!" You said. "Learn to take a joke, princess. Well, half joke." Toji chuckled. You sighed and answered the question on the form and sent it back to his boss and closed your laptop. "You finished?" Toji asked. "Yes," you replied. "Good girl. I'll see you on Saturday then," Toji said. You just knew Toji had a smirk on his face, but you nodded. "See you," you said before disconnecting the call.

You laid back in the chair and took a few breaths to calm your heart from racing. He was such a tease yet sounded so hot doing it. As the week went past, you got yourself ready for the weekend. Making sure to have the money to pay him, getting your home nice and clean. Once everything was done, you were home alone on a Saturday evening when you heard a knock on your door. You looked through the peep hole and just saw Toji's chest.

You opened the door and saw him there. His style didn't change much, but he still looked as handsome as ever. "Come in," you invited Toji, and you walked him walk in with a gym bag and took off his shoes, and then watched him begin to examine your home. You closed the door and followed behind him to your living room to hand him the cash that was in a small envelope. Toji took it and started to count the money, but then he looked at you.

"$400? It was just $300, cutie," Toji said, put, kept it anyway, and put in his gym bag. "I want a longer night..." You admit. Toji's fingers grabbed under your chin and made you look at him properly. "You thought we'd get straight into it? What kinda guy would I be if I did that?" Toji said, and his thumb played with your bottom lip before letting go. For the time being, Toji suggested to watch a movie together.

Usually, he'd say you both should shower before getting into it, but he wanted you to get used to his touch even if it wasn't sexual just yet. Toji wasn't big on cuddles, but he kept his arm around your thoughts out the movie and held your hand a lot. You attempted to cuddle, but he just straight up hugged you, which wasn't bad either. It felt nice to have this physical affection before having sex together.

Once the movie had finished, you took your bath and then came out to dry yourself off and kept your towel over you as you waited on your bed for Toji. You didn't feel scared or anything bad but instead nervous? Worried, he may not like what he sees? He's had sex with other clients, so what if he says negative things about your body. That small worry of insecurity was normal to feel before your first time, so you shook your head and waited once you heard the water stop.

You waited and saw Toji walk out your bathroom 5 minutes later. "You shower long," you said with a nervous smile on your face and ajust your towel to cover your tits more. "I took 20 minutes. You took 30" Toji called you out, and you laughed. "Yeah, you got me there," you said and watched Toji stand at the edge of the bed with his towel around his waist. Your eyes scan his body as you look at his muaclar physique. His face and body were just perfect.

"Why are you all the way over there? You're not nervous, are you?" Toji placed a knee on the bed and began to crawl towards you. His towel began loose and eventually fell off from his waist and you got a glance at his cock. Your eyes widen a bit to see it's size and he wasn't even hard yet. You quickly look at Toji, who is now inches away from your face. "I'm not i- I just don't want you to think my body looks werid," you say, and Toji gives you a werid look.

"Why would I think that? Your body is sexy. It's a shame you still wanna keep that towel on, too." Toji's deep tone softened as he brought his hand to your body and started to play with the rim of your towel near your breasts. Your breathing became unsteady. You took slow breaths, feeling the atmosphere become hotter with the sexual tension arising between you and Toji.

You look at Toji's lips and then lossend your hands from your towel and allow Toji to slowly remove your towel from your naked body. "C'mon. Lay down and get comfortable," Toji said and placed his hands on your hips to help you lay down underneath him properly. "Comfortable now?" He chuckled and watched you nod.

Toji slides his hand up your side and eventually holds your hand in his. Toji began to compare hand sizes with you while being inches away from your lips. "Your hands are so much bigger than mine.." you whispered and intertwined your fingers with his. "Well, I'm a big guy," Toji chuckled. "Can I kiss you?" He asked and gave your cheek a quick peck. You nod in response. However, Toji didn't like that.

He shook his head and held your hand tighter. "Words, baby. Can I kiss you?" Toji said against your lips while still, maintaining eue contact. You felt his breath hit your lip, and he felt yours, given how close your lips were, and you opened your mouth to speak softly. "Yes, please kiss me," you begged softly.

Toji first gave you a peck. He wanted to see how you'd react to that. I'm not too sure if that was your first kiss, but you reacted normally. You brought your hands to his face, and Toji went in for a deep, passionate kiss. His lips were so soft against yours. He took the lead by kissing, making out with you slowly, and slowly started to force your lips open more to take breaths in between.

Toji's hands went down to your legs in the kiss. His hand rubs up and down your legs, and you gasped softly in the kiss as Toji opens your legs to fit himself in between. "Mhmph~" you moaned softly in the kiss as you felt Tojis cock brush up against your pussy. "You okay?" Toji asked between his smooches and soft heavy breaths. "Yeah~" you said. Once Toji knew you were okay with this, he took it a step further.

Toji bit your bottom lip. It surprised you a little, and you opened your eyes more to see him. He looked at you with so much lust and from his lip bite. Your lips opened more, you jaw doing so as well, and Toji slides his tongue inside your mouth to touch your tongue and slides out for a second to kiss you. He repeated this and slowly but surely, you got the hang out of it as well.

Heavy breaths and soft moans were exchanged in each others mouths as you both felt the arousal growing more. Toji's hips couldn't stop himself from softly humping you. His cock between your legs and rubbing up and down between your wet folds. "Toji~" you moaned his name in the sloppy kiss and felt some saliva spill down your chin.

Toji lets out a low groan as his hands grip onto your sides and stop his hips from grinding against you. He breaks the kiss and uses his tongue to lick up the saliva that ran down your chin. "I need you. So fucking bad" He said through a deep breath and sat up. "Just look how hard you made me.. even getting some of your wetness on me. Fuck~" Toji said, seeing some of your slick on his shalt.

You bit your lip softly, feeling your wall clench at the site of his girthy cock. "Toji. Toji, please I.." You begged. You felt your clit throbbing, you wanted him too and now. "Yeah, I got you." Toji got down on the stomach on the bed and pulled your body towards him. "You ever made your cum before?" Toji smirked at you with his head between your thighs and inches away from your needu cunt.

You hesitated to answer, feeling somewhat embarrassed, but you eventually answered. "With a clit toy yeah.." you admitted. Toji stuck his tounge out and gave your clit a softly kitten lick and watched your hips buck from his sudden lick to your sensitive bud. "Well I don't fuck with toys so you got two options as a start. My tounge, or my fingers. You'll get both eventually, but what do you wanna start with first, princess?" Toji asked.

Your mouth opened in a small 'o' shape, not being able to hold your voice back as Toji continues to tease you with his soft licks to your clit. "I think you're living my tongue. Just look at how those hips roll up in my face" Toji said as he gave your clit a long lick, while applying more pressure on it with his tounge. "Y-yes~" you said through a whimper and brought your hands to Toji's hair.

"Yeah?" Toji's long tounge rolls around your thobbing clit and kisses it lightly. He wrapped his lips around your clit and applied pressure on it with his tounge in a circular motion. Toji couldn't get enough of your moans, how your hips kept bucking and rolling in his face while your thighs kept squeezing his head.

You gasped once you felt Toji's tongue licking further down to your leaking hole, and you grip his hair tighter. "Oh fuck~ Toji not there~" you whined yet, you felt your arousal throughout your body from just his tongue. "Just wanted to taste how wet you are for me. This pretty pussy can't stop leaking for me can it?" Toji said and began to slide his fingers between your wet folds. "Ready for my fingers?" He asked, playing with your slick between his fingers.

"Yes!, yes~" You rest your head back as you feel his finger press against your hole. "Relax. Let me ease my finger in." Toji thrust his thick finger inside and moving it in and out. You covered your mouth with the back of your hand, moaning from just one finger. "Nah, don't do that. Let me hear you. Move your hand from your mouth, " Toji said and added another finger inside you.

"Oh my gosh~ oh fuck." You said through shaking moans. You eventually move your hand away from your mouth and brought your hands to the sheets to grip onto them as Toji slowly begins to finger fuck you harder. His fingers open you up, spreading apart inside to open your walls up before adding in a third finger. "Toji- Toji!" You moaned his name in a small panic, your eyes tearing up as you feel your orgasm coming already.

"You're doing so fucking good. It's okay. Fucking cum on my fingers." Toji finger fucked you faster and he went back to licking your clit and this time, sucking on it. You whimpered loudly and moaned. You felt Toji's other hand hold yours, and you quickly held his hand back. Your back arches and your eyes shut tight as you cum on his fingers. Your other hand grips onto his hair, slowly riding out your orgasm my grinding back into his face and your walls clenching down on his three fingers.

You calmed down and relaxed into the mattress. "Felt good, didn't it?" Toji kissed your inner thigh and pulled his fingers out to see the mess you made. "Yes- Oh, there's issue over there- Toji!" You said in shock as you watch Toji clean his fingers of your cum. "I don't have time to get off this bed and get some tissue to clean it up." He said and placed his hands on your knees. "Now. Are you ready to take me?" He asked and you look down to see his hard cock, oozing out pre cum.

He needed you badly. Toji pushes your thighs back and places your ankles on his shoulders. "You okay with this position?" Toji asked. "Yes. I'm okay." You smiled at Toji and brought your hands to hold onto his sides. Toji grabbed his cock and rubbed his tip against your clit and between your folds. He looked at you, making sure you're okay once more, and you nodded your head.

Toji pushed his tip inside. You try to relax, taking in slow breaths as you feel his hips thrust forward and feel yourself scratch open. "G-gentle gentle~" Your breath hitched, and you bit your lip. "Yeah, I know. You're just so tight." Toji grunts as he gave you a second before continuing. You felt slight pain, not as much since Toji prepared you before. However, you just felt the pressure.

"You're doing so good. Just keep relaxing. I'm almost in." Toji grabs the sheets. He moans at how your walls squeeze around him until he finally gets in. He wasn't exactly balls deep, but he wanted to get to that part in a bit and didn't move until you were ready. "It doesn't hurt, dose it?" Toji asked. "A-A little bit.. but it doesn't hurt badly... I just feel so f-full. You can start moving, though, " your voice trembled.

"I figured. Maybe this can help." Toji leaned down to bring his mouth to your nipple and sucked on it lightly. "Ooh, Toji~" Your mouth hung open with moans as he sucks on your nipple while thrusting his hips slow. It was already so overwhelming. But it felt so good. "That's it. Moan for me. You're taking my cock so good right now baby" Toji bit your nipple softly and then went to the other one, sucking on it as he thrust his hips at a stead rhythm.

"It's sooo, good- oh fuck" your nails big into his sides as you felt his cock slide in and out, feeling his veins drag along your walls and your wetness leaking down to your hole already. "Ready for me to get a bit faster?" Toji whispered in your ear as his hips roll in slow cirlcles, making your feel his cock more. "Yes~ I wanna feel you more. Fuck me please" you begged softly with teary eyes.

Toji pulled his hips back, stopping once he felt his tip almost slip out and slowly push back into you again, this time getting balls deep until his tip kissed your cervix. His thick thighs began to slap lightly against your skin as his speed increased. "That's it. Opened up more for me and- taking it so good" Toji says through moans.

Your brows knit together, and your moans grew Louder as Toji fucks you faster. "And these tits." Toji grabs one of your boobs and licks your nipple and gives it a softly nibble. "Love the way your pussy sucks me in when I play with these pretty nipples." Toji said and eventually holds both of your boobs together and begins to lick both nipples at the same time.

You tried to speak, but Toji's hips began to thrust harder. His cock so deep and bullying your cervix all while againsts your gspot and his heavy balls smacking against your wet asshole. "Toji~ Toji, just like that~" you muttered. "Yeah, like this." Let go of your boobs and sat up to hold your legs to his chest and began thrusting his hips faster, having his skin clay against yours.

"Yes, just like that!" You moaned in a squeal as his cock fucks into you and hit all the right spot. Your tits bounce, and your body jerks forward from his powerful thrusts. It felt so good you couldn't help the tear from your eye run down your face. "Look at that fucked out slutty face you got goin on. So sensitive, aren't you? And so wet. You're getting it all over me" Toji says through deep moans as he sees the ring of your pussy creaming around his cock and feeling your wetness on his balls.

"Can feel you getting close. Cum, cum for me. Let me feel this pretty, needy pussy grip onto my cock" Toji continued to fuck you harder while having a slight fucked out expression on his face as well. Your eyes rolled back a bit and your hands grip onto the bed sheets, moaning, almost screaming as your back arches and you cum, on his cock.

"Yeah, that's it~ You feel so good clenching on me like this- fuck." Toji said and continued to keep thrusting his hips. "Toji- tojii~" you whined his name and brought your hands to his abdomen. "Move your hands, baby. I'm so close," Toji whispered as he shut his eyes and grabbed both your wrists and thrust faster than before, even making the bed shake.

Toji's moans got Louder, and he threw his head back. He got himself balls deep, clenching his jaw, and stopped thrusting as he came inside you. "That birth control, better work" he pants, "I was thinking if I should fill you up, but this cunt is too good not too. Fuck~" Toji, let go of your wrists and grab on your thighs to ride out his orgasm.

"On your stomach now, princess. We're not done yet," Toji grabbed your legs and pushed them to the side to help you turn around. "Like this?" You laid on your stomach, bring one of your pillows to your chest for support, and had your legs spread open as you looked back at Toji. "Just like that," Toji said in a low growl, watching some of his cum still spilling out of you and grabbed your ass tightly before positioning himself to fuck you again.

Toji shoved his cock back in and you both moaned at the feeling. "Fuck me harder Toji~ ooh God, I want more this time" you begged while pushing your ass up against Toji as he thrusts his cock inside you. "You're realing asking me that?" Toji, put some of his weight down on you and brings his arm around to put you in a light choke hold and slams his hips down, fucking you roughly.

"You took it like a good slut before. You're gonna take it like a good slut again." Toji grunts. "Your cunt is just gushing, even when i fuck my cum back inside. So. Fucking. Wet," Toji said from his rough thrusts and choking you a bit harder in the choke hold he has you in. You tried to talk back, but all that came out of your mouth was loud moans and soft choke sounds as he fucks you into the mattress.

"I-im gonna cum again- Toji, wait~ wait~" your pussy clenched on Toji's cock harder and felt yourself dripping with each thrust. "Nah, I'm not waiting- holy fuck, Gonna cum too, gonna cum so hard" Toji let's you out of his choke hold but he brings his hand to your throat to hold you while his other hand grips onto the bedsheets rightly.

Your teeth bit down on the pillow, letting out screaming moans with tears of pleasure rolling down your face, not being able to hold yourself back from squirting all over the bed until a small puddle was made. Toji's maons turned into deep whimpers in your ear and his hand had a firmer grip on your neck and his slammed his hips, having his tip kiss your cervix as he fills you up again with his cum.

"Oh fuck~, Toji~ Toji," you moaned his name, panting, and your eyes shut as you pass out right after. "Ah shit... was i too rough???" Toji said, being concerned.

You ended up sleeping after that for almost 30 minutes. When you woke up, you sat up slowly to check the time. It was 2am. Once you blinked to realize what was going on, you found yourself in new pj's and cleaner bedsheets. You were about to get up until your bedroom door opened again, seeing Toji came in with a bottle of water and something eles in one hand and tea in the other.

"You're awake. Now take this." Toji handed you some painkillers and the water. "Thank you, Toji. But I'm okay. I just went to sleep." You chuckled and took the medicine. "You could get a headache or something." Toji got in bed with you and laid down beside you. You looked at him, almost confused until Toji's hand suck around your waist to pull you closer into a hug, almost cuddling again like before.

"Don't look at me like that. All sex workers gotta give aftercare." Toji said, looking away with a faint blush on his cheeks. "You were a beast in bed but blush at aftercare? You're cute," you giggled and rested your head on Toji's chest. "Just so you know, when you fall asleep again, I'm leaving so your front door will be unlocked," he mentioned.

You instantly got annoyed. "I take it back," you said. "If you want another time like this, then you know how to book another appointment." Toji said

"Oh i will~"