#but have you considered that he's MY asshole?

[gojosprettyprincess]

₊˚ෆ HOW TOJI DEALS WITH OTHER MEN LIKING YOU <3

Tw- breeding, mentions of violence (not towards you), video recording. Not proofread

“Nuh uh don't hide this fucking pussy, show him how much you're creamin’ on my cock, don’t go all shy on me darling”. Toji laughed mockingly, his large hand effortlessly clasping both of your wandering wrists above your head to prevent any escape while using your phone to zoom in on the icky view of the mess between your mellowed thighs.

A streak of milky wetness glistened all over his massive cock, cascading down to his aching balls that were being captured in the filthy mess anyways because of how it's continuously slamming against your asshole that was coated with the cream that seeped out your gooey cunt.

"Fuck yeah, ya see that? See how this cute little pussy is wetting my dick? She sure as hell must be fucking loving it to be making this hell of a mess," he declared proudly. His deep, husky laugh resonated throughout the room, leaving no doubt that Toji was most likely losing his mind over the situation.

A few minutes earlier you told him about the guy from your class who confessed his feelings to you and you’re very uncertain about how to respond so you asked your boyfriend for some advice and well he decided to matters into his own hands.

“Tojii.. l-let go!” You cried out, attempting to dig your nails into his wrists as if that would make any difference, considering how fucking strong he is that it made your efforts almost laughably worthless.

“Nah don't think I want to darling, this fucker needs to know who the hell you belong to” he gritted his teeth at the thought of the guy even having the audacity to think you'd date him. You're all his and he would go to extreme lengths to ensure it remains that way.

The two of you were undeniably meant for each other and there was no fucking way in hell Toji would let some random fucker take you away from him.

“You wish this was you huh? Too fucking bad it's all mine to stuff and fuck, she belongs to me. Keep texting her and I’ll find you and bash your stupid fucking head in. Ya hear me?”. His brutal words cut through the air with a sharp edge, conveying possessiveness and veiled threats. It reverberated loudly, ensuring every detail was captured in the recording that the guy will be listening to soon after this.

His voice was deeper and harsher than normal, making your little cunt flutter even more around his stiffened shaft.

Which he obviously picked up on. “Ohhh you're such a slutty fucking whore baby, who am I kidding.” his grip on your bruised hands tightened. Threatening to leave more red, angry marks as he buckled his hips harshly into your ruined pussy. The force of his hips as he pushed into you aggressively showed literally no mercy.

“You’ll never fucking leave me, you're too fucking obsessed that your little cunt is twitching around me to the thought of me killing another man for you huh?”.

“N-no—” you stammered, turning your head away to look the other direction which made his grin widen even more as he playfully licked the faded scar on his lips because it had always been an indication of you lying whenever you looked away from him like that.

“Aww, that's fine doll," he murmured softly, his gaze unwavering as he directed the phone towards your fucked out face. His body sank deeper, inching downwards until his face hovered mere inches from your own. "you know what I'm thinking?”.

You peered your eyes at him and held contact in sheer curiosity.

“I’ll just breed this pretty fucking pussy and fuck a baby into you, how's that sound? Huh? You'll be such a good Mommy to our kid” his breath is now fanning against your face. Your body quivered at the thought, a deep longing stirring within you.

The thought of his suggestion made you moan, not just a normal moan. There's no particular way to describe it but the thought of that made your mind blurry and hazed. You and Toji always talked about having children in a few years but there's no harm in one now.

His possessiveness drove you crazy. Sure you knew Toji wasn’t a saint or an angel because at the end of the day, he murdered people for a living and because of that alone— he knew about the lonesome dangers of the world so he’s extremely overprotective and you’d loved every bit of it.

The thought of Toji even thinking you’d leave him for anyone else was an insult towards you because both of you were perfect for each other in every way possible.

“Y-yes! yes please, wanna carry your baby!” you babbled over and over, nodding your head like some stupid bitch as he proudly smirked at your reaction in amusement. “Yeah? Want me to make you a mommy? Get you pregnant so you'll be all full and swollen? Then everyone is gonna fucking know who you belong to”. The glint in Toji’s eyes was so dark, that it almost had you scared for a moment.

“Yesyesyes, please, m’so desperate Toji, fill me up–” you whimpered, tears glistening in your eyes as you pleaded fervently.

“Yeah fuck that, y’know what—” he mumbled to himself with a brief pause to stop the recording on his phone and swiftly hitting the "send" button to the guy that’s currently and patientlyyy waiting for your response in the chat. He casually tossed the device to the side and embraced you tightly, his strong arms enveloping you and wrapped around your neck to hug you before vigorously slamming his hips into you in an intense pace.

Unfortunately, the poor guy never had the chance to witness the adorable blessing you and Toji shared several months later because your boyfriend assassinated him on his way home the very next afternoon because he tried to speak to you again in person.

[thecranberriesslut]

Fawn and the wolf

Summary: You're the smallest one on the team, and you have the compulsive need to prove yourself to Ghost... but have you chewed off more than you can swallow?

Pairing: Simon!Ghost Riley x Fem!Reader 'Bambi'

Warnings: Unspecified age gap, but implied that it's large, Power imbalance (military superior and soldier), DubCon, Degradation, Forcefulness, Smut, Dirty themes, Dirty talk, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Unsafe use of a gun... Read at your own risk

Wc: 4k

Notes: I have never written cod smut before and I know nothing about military stuff so bare with me, also this is way darker than my previous pieces, just a heads up. I love your notes in the comments so tell me what you think! also note that Bambi is a nickname.

You stretch your arms, extending them in front of your chest, rolling your wrists around. The smell of coffee invades your every sense—on early mornings like these on base, the cheap coffee your superiors buy for the worn down common room is like your own personal brand of cocaine, the only thing that wakes you up after sleeping too little.

The physical aspects of military training are tough. They were almost a deal-breaker for you when you first came here... but over time, they had gotten easier. You had grown to enjoy the burn of a long run or the sting of a cold shower after extensive muscle training. After a while, feeling and seeing the results became almost addictive—but that didn't take away from the fact that most days, you were almost too tired to function. Most of the required workouts you were forced to endure were designed for men twice your size, and frankly, you found it a bit sexist. Why couldn't your superior adjust them to fit you better? It would take him a maximum of 20 minutes. You had come to the conclusion that he was a sadistic asshole who enjoyed torturing you every single day with insane workouts.

You hear the coffee drip slowly into the pot. You're too tired to fully open your eyes—even putting on gear this morning had felt like an impossible task. But here you were, awake (barely), in gear, and ready to start training in a couple of minutes. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you have the huge coffee mug in your hands—burning hot, probably making the skin beneath it fiery red, but you are too exhausted to care.

You barely have time to swallow your first sip of the steaming, bitter, brown liquid when the door to the common room opens forcefully. Like instinct, you are up and alert—you can't show weakness here. You're already considered the runt of your entire team, being the youngest and also a woman. You turn around, ready to greet whoever it is with the alertness and determination of a starving fox during winter, hunting for the last rabbit left in the forest.

"Mornin', Bambi." Ghost said, his voice hoarse—but his manner alert and assertive, like always.

Bambi is your nickname on base, given to you by squadmates the first week you arrived. You liked to think it was because you were pretty like a fawn, but obviously, it was given to you for more degrading purposes. Everyone on your team thought of you as inexperienced, naive, and wide-eyed. But everyone had their own slightly degrading nickname, even your commander, Ghost. His real name was Simon Riley, but he was given the name Ghost because he stood out and had a tendency to move around quietly, like a ghost, not to mention his patent skull hood, a tactic to scare or to hide? No one knew.

"Good morning, sir," You said, trying to sound as awake as possible, waiting for the tension in the room to cool off before taking another careful sip of your coffee.

Ghost walks over to the coffee maker nonchalantly and pours himself a tall cup of coffee. You are surprised that he would even need caffeine—he's like a machine, inhuman—you've never seen him show any signs of weakness, and the manner in which he leads the team is brutal. He doesn't care if you're too tired to do push-ups; he will make you do them. Sometimes you consider the possibility that he just has no human emotions, or that he's a robot or something. Regardless of all this, you often find yourself with a compulsive need to make him happy. It's like you have to prove yourself to him constantly. You rarely complain to him about the difficult exercises he puts your team through, although you want to.

You've never been the kind of girl that just sits there quietly and lets everyone walk all over her. No—you’re the kind of girl who used to stand up for her friends in elementary school when the boys would pull their hair. You're the kind of girl that couldn't be mistaken for a doormat because you make your opinions known. If you weren't so fiery, you would never make it in the squad. Your squadmates are like brothers to you. You play rough—but when it comes to Ghost, you find that all your outward confidence just crumbles in his vicinity, and you become this pathetic rookie he can treat however he wants to. Although, you find that the same happens to most of the men on your team. Ghost is eerily calm; he radiates this quiet, overpowering energy, like a psychological horror film. And it makes everyone below him obey his commands like dogs. But it also makes you crave his approval. He never yells at you, but he never praises you either—it makes you almost obsessively try to get a reaction out of him with your good work on the exercises.

“We're doing the shooting range and combat alone today. Don't be late.”                                                                    And with that, he's out of the door, leaving behind nothing but an empty coffee mug and a slight lingering smell of smoky cologne.

As you stand anxiously at the metal door of the gun range, it's like your body is stopping you from going in. You can feel the harsh cargo pants rubbing against your legs in an annoying manner, and your shirt feels too tight around your armpits—also, the coffee you drank did nothing but replace your tiredness with urgent nervousness. You've never trained with Ghost alone, but last week you were sick, so this morning you had to wake up before the sun to play catch-up with him. You are a great shooter, it's in your blood… but you have a gnawing feeling that being so close to Ghost will mess with your aim, and you will disappoint him.

You swallow the lump in your throat and force your hand to go up to the door handle. As you push open the heavy door, the lighting inside the gun range is dim—you can barely make out Ghost's silhouette, standing near the guns. You step inside carefully, as if you need to be quiet. But the gun range was far from housing; it stood alone on the other side of the base, with only woods surrounding it—you're also pretty sure it's soundproof, but not entirely sure. The range smells like mold and gunpowder, it's oddly comforting.

“Are you just going to stand there or come in?”                                        Ghost says in a low voice, sounding indifferent—but nonetheless intimidating. You make your way inside and close the door behind you.

“Lock it.”                                                                                                            He commands, not even trying to phrase it as a question, just a blunt order. You feel a little confused as to why he would want you to lock the door, but alas, you twist the lock until it clicks, and walk over to Ghost wearily.

“No lights?”                                                                                                        You ask, trying to calm your nerves by talking, your hands finding the hem of your shirt and fidgeting with it.

“Burnt fuse. I expect you have no trouble shooting in the dark, rookie?”                  He says—it sounds like a snarky remark. You're annoyed at his tone. Obviously, you find it hard to shoot in the dark—but you can't tell him that. He'd paint you as weak and incapable.

“No problem.” You gear up, putting on hearing protectors and safety goggles. You take a gun, a simple, sleek Beretta 91, and you point it at the cardboard target ahead, waiting for Ghost to give you the okay to shoot. You are faced with silence. As you turn to look at Ghost, you see him standing next to you with a wide stance, his arms crossed over his chest, the sleeves of his black t-shirt tightening and showing off his muscles. He stares you down intensely.

“What are you doing wrong?” He asks, sounding annoyed, like you should know all this by now—although you haven't even trained shooting much.

“I—I don't know.” You hesitate, checking that the gun safety is off, your gear is on, and that you're facing the right way—you look at Ghost, confused.

“Your stance is all wrong, Bambi.” Without giving you a second to react, he moves behind you and guides your hands to the correct position. He kicks your legs farther apart and taps your thigh to signal you to move your foot slightly to the left. The gesture has nothing inherently sexual to it, but it makes a knot start to form in your lower stomach.

Ghost isn't a bad-looking man, or at least his body isn't—no one on your team has ever seen his face. He hides behind his signature skull balaclava daily, only revealing his dark brown eyes, and you presume he only takes it off to sleep and shower… if then. He has the type of body that any respectable captain would be expected to have—he's all muscle and mass. Not only that, but he's tall and broad, and if he was anyone else, you'd be trying to flirt with him every time you saw him… but even attempting to flirt with a higher-up is highly frowned upon here—you would both get fired. Also, it's not so difficult to push aside your feelings for someone who makes you train until failure every single day and rules your unit with an iron fist.

“Shoot.” Ghost orders, keeping his hold on your upper arms, directing the gun to hit the target right in the chest. He's standing so close to you that you can feel the heat radiating off him—he towers over you, and being caged in his hold like this sort of makes you feel safe. The feeling doesn't last long when he removes his hands from yours and steps back, resuming his position as the judgy officer watching you train intently.

“Now try it by yourself. Less than seven points, and you get punished.” He says, his voice dark and determined. He looks at you through narrow eyes, and his stance remains official and intimidating. It's not even his worst request—last night, he punished your fellow teammate with 100 push-ups for laughing during training. If he made you do that many push-ups right now, you would probably collapse—you needed to get this.

With nervous, shaky hands, you point the barrel of the pistol the same way as last time, you gather all your courage, only able to think of one thing— one hundred push-ups, before sunrise. Or maybe he'll make you do something worse, 200 burpees… 150 pull-ups. You shake off the distracting thoughts and by some miracle, you pull the trigger-- the bullet hits the very corner of the cardboard target, and you visibly cringe at the sight. You got zero points… you curse yourself in your mind, how could you be this bad, now he's going to make you do so many push-ups. Slowly, you turn to look at Ghost— he doesn't look disappointed, his position remains calm and collected, and that's what scares you the most.

“Get on your knees.” He says, darkly, you think it's a joke at first, but his eyes remain serious. Your eyes widen as you try to process the words that just came out of his mouth.

“Now.” He adds, when you don't move. Maybe it's just your dirty mind… maybe he meant nothing crude with it, maybe it's a new form of punishment in your squad. So you put the gun down on the cold metal desk, and slowly, anxiously, you start to lower yourself onto your knees. Ghost remains cool, his gaze following yours, as you fall lower and lower, until your knees hit the ground. He takes a couple of steps closer to you, forcing you to be face to face with his crotch. He picks up the gun from the desk, and your mouth goes dry when you try to focus, to hear the safety click on, but it never does. He crouches down slightly, and brings the barrel to your chin, lifting your chin up, and straining your neck as you're forced to look up at him.

“Do you think I haven't noticed the way you look at me when I teach combat?” He asks, his voice remaining low and calm. You're shaking, with nervousness or anticipation— you're not entirely sure.

“I— ” You begin your sentence, but are quick to notice that no other words are coming out— you wonder what he'll do to you… he might send you home, or hurt you.

“I know all the others think you're this naive little Bambi, but I see through that— you're a fucking slut.” He puts emphasis on the word slut, and the contrast between his collected voice, and the crude words, makes the knot in your lower stomach tighten, and worsens the heat between your thighs.

“And you think I don't hear you in the common room, complaining to the others about my training methods—it's like you're begging to be put in your place.”

“I haven't sai-” You begin frantically explaining, but quickly stop as he hits the gun against your chin, a clear sign to remind you who's in control.

“I suggest you shut the fuck up.” He stares into your eyes with the intensity of a hungry wolf. You expect that sort of raw intensity from him, but you are never prepared for it. You can see the conflict in his mind, in his eyes—you can almost feel what he's thinking. Furthermore, you can sense the war going on in his head; you are fighting the exact same one in yours.

“You know—in war, the good people get eaten.” He starts, enigmatically.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what happens to the smart people?” He asks, almost expecting you to give the wrong answer, his demeanor remaining slightly degrading.

“They survive?” You ask, unsure of what he's trying to say.

“They go bad.”

You look at him, confused. His words sound almost apocalyptic. You're trying to figure out what he means by them… does he mean that he's gone bad? Maybe that you should go bad? What does going bad even mean?

“Which one are you, little Bambi?”

“Smart.”

“Wrong answer.” He throws the gun on the floor, the safety remaining off, but you have no time to think about gun safety right now— as he begins to forcefully unbuckle his black, leather belt, you can't help but feel all your senses heightened, intensely pumping through your body. You can feel the heat rising up your chest, over your throat, into your cheeks and ears, turning them undoubtably red. You can hear the broken clock on the wall tick sporadically, in a completely unorganized manner. The sound of his belt buckle flying open almost hurts your ears. You imagine this is what rabbits feel, in that small window of time, right before they get eaten, when they feel the fox's eyes on them, lurking somewhere in the dangerous night. You look up into his eyes, pleading with your gaze, but you are met with a look that could almost be mixed up with sympathy. He looks like a disappointed teacher, handing you a test with a failed grade, knowing that he's the one who failed you, but displays a fake, degrading sympathy in his eyes.

He takes his cock out of his black cargo pants, it looks almost intimidating. You can't see his mouth, but you swear he's smiling a sadistic smile under his mask. He wraps his big, warm hand, into your hair, where your occiput meets the back of your neck, and he pulls your head back— the motion stings, but it brings your attention to him, away from your thoughts. When he sees you've returned from inside your head, to the current moment, he pushes your head forward. Instinctively, you open your mouth, almost inviting him in— he stuffs his rock-hard cock into your mouth, with little regard for your feelings.

“See, you're too good for war, Bambi.” He remarks, his voice soft, you can feel the patronizing tone pierce through you and hit the warm spot between your legs like lighting. You try to answer him, but your mouth lets out a small, pathetic moan, as he pushes himself further into your throat, making your eyes tear up.

“A smart girl would've never come into a dark shooting range with a dangerous man. You're too good, and you're too dumb— that's why you get eaten alive.” His words remain condescending, degrading, but his voice keeps a calm, soft tone, which contrary to what you'd hope it would do, turns you on like nothing you've ever experienced before.

Finally, he pulls you off his cock. You gasp for air, confused as to why he would stop before he finished— but it gives you an eerie sensation that there's more to come. And while you wish you could hate this, while you wish you could call him an absolute creep and report him to someone… you were smart. You had come into this dark room with this dangerous man, with full awareness and a calculated plan. You saw how he looked at your pleading eyes when he made you train until failure. Furthermore, you saw the bulge in his pants when in late night combat sessions he got you under him, and you looked like a scared rabbit. When you started in his unit, a while ago— you gathered that the best way to survive, was to play into the naive role, in reality, you were exceptionally smart, top of your class. But they didn't need to know that. Every single time Ghost talked down on you, you felt like you had the control, you'd made the decision to act dumb, to get him to lose control ever so slightly, because he gave into his anger.

Much to your avail, he turns around, going to fetch something out of the gun range closet. Dumb move, because when he was turned away from you, you grabbed the gun off the floor, making a quick, uncalculated move. As he turns around, he sees you nowhere, despite being a tough military officer, he feels a slight eeriness about not seeing you… like in horror movies, when the innocent kid starts acting odd and eventually kills everyone. He stands still, looking around the pitch black room as best as he can, until he feels the cold nozzle of a pistol on his mid back. He turns to face you, with a blank expression, and you see the rope in his hands.

“The smart people go bad, no?” You smile a wicked grin, you have the control now… and you want him to know it.

“Drop the rope and get on the floor.”

You thought he'd resist, that he'd fight the gun off your hands— but he just lays down on the cold concrete, and supports his head on his hands, and smiles at you, a smile proposing a challenge. You keep the gun in your hand, as you make your way on top of him, straddling him.

“What's your big, smart plan now, Bambi?” He says, with an annoying amount of confidence painting his words.

You bend down on top of him, and push your lips against his, like you want to devour him. His lips feel surprisingly soft, and you can still taste the faint residue of coffee and cigarettes on his tongue. He doesn't fight for dominance, instead, he sort of submits to the kiss, letting you take the lead. You feel like you've won the game, until his hips come crashing into yours, his bulge pressing against your most sensitive spot. His mouth opens and leaves his ever so slightly, and you don't notice the gun falling out of your hand. With the newly gained advantage, Ghost pushes his tongue into your mouth, starting the long overdue war for dominance. You try to fight it, trying to gain back the small amount of control you crave— but he turns you around with ease, until he has you on your back. He's straddling you with knees on both sides of you, and his hands holding your arms tightly on both sides of your head. You're trapped again.

He doesn't waste time taunting you, he's done playing the game. Hastily, his hands leave their bruising grip on your wrists and find the button of your pants. He moves quickly and removes your pants with a sense of urgency— you don't try to stop him, you leave your hands laying where he's been holding them, and you let him remove your pants, and then your underwear. His finger finds a spot very close to your most sensitive one, but it doesn't hit the spot you need it to. He continues this torture for a while, until he stops completely and looks at you.

“No attempts to stop this? No fighting?” He questions. You never took him for this clueless. You move your hand to his, and grab it, bringing his entire hand to your throbbing center, and forcing him to please you. With a breathy voice, you say.

“Just shut the fuck up and fuck me.”

He doesn't need another word from you, as he spreads your thighs open with force, and pushes himself into you— giving you no time to get used to his size. With no warning, he starts pumping into you relentlessly, keeping up a torturous pace you thought was only possible in porn. When you open your mouth slightly, to complain or to moan, you're not sure. He stops you, wrapping his veiny hand around your throat, in an attempt to show you who's actually in control. It only makes you wetter, you like having him so desperate for control, that he would choke his own soldier— you think it only makes him seem weaker. When he loses himself like this, it's you that gains the upper hand.

“You're never telling anyone about this.” He says, through desperate pants. His hand on your throat tightens ever so slightly.

“Wouldn't want you to get fired, perv.” You shoot him a snarky remark, trying to sound confident— but the whimpers in between every word make you sound more like a pathetic adolescent. His lips latch onto your neck, biting it so intensely, his sharp canine teeth pull a little blood. You love the contrast between pain and pleasure, and feel your orgasm building up. He can feel it too.

“Try to make a smart comment now, I dare you.” He bullies, and you try to say something smart, or just something, anything— but what comes out of your mouth is a deep guttural, animalistic moan, as your orgasm washes over you.

He begins to laugh in a low tone, in between groans, as he pulls out of you, and releases his cum onto your lower stomach. It would feel degrading and dehumanizing, if you weren't just fucked out of your mind. With a weak, breathy voice, you manage to say.

“I hate you.”

He laughs.

“Sure seems like it, Bambi.”

[hauntedhokage]

Anticipation

Itoshi Rin/F!Reader

rating: explicit

summary: you’re cat sitting for Rin while he’s away, the distance between you encouraging you to ask for help with more intimate matters.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: phone sex

Requested!

“Your cat is an asshole.”

Your comment makes Rin snort, a rare amused sound leaving the stoic striker.

“He likes you more than me.”

“I doubt it.”

This time it’s a thoughtful hum that leaves him, your best friend clearly considering how he would try to convince you that his cat did actually like you. But instead he tells you that the fluffy menace was only your problem for a couple more days, then you were no longer at risk of having your feet swiped at from under various pieces of furniture in his apartment.

“It’ll be nice to have you back for the mid season break,” you comment, making your way to his bedroom to get ready for bed. Time zones had been tricky for his daily check ins, his practices rubbing late had him calling and leaving voicemails while you were asleep. This was the first time in about a week that you’d actually spoken to him, and that was only because you were staying up late to get to do that.

“Yeah, save you from my asshole cat.”

“We can have a movie night or something,” you suggest, getting comfortable in his bed that has become yours while he was gone. The sheets still smelled like him despite his absence, and you weren’t going to deny how nice it was to be surrounded by his scent. “A lot of good ones streaming now.”

“That’d be fine. What are you doing right now, I don’t want to keep you up.”

“I want to talk to you,” you start, settling into the pillows while eyeing the vibrator charging on his nightstand. “Just got into bed, but I’m not tired so don’t hang up unless you have to.”

“I’ve got about an hour. Enjoying my bed?”

“A lot.” He hums at that. “Might just move in and make you take the couch.”

“We can share.”

That wasn’t a standard Rin answer; he should’ve said something along the lines of changing the locks or making you sleep on the floor. Not that you hadn’t shared a bed with him before, you were both mature adults that could do that without things faring awkward, but that was how he teased you.

But speaking of teasing, there was something more delicate on your mind and you were confident that Rin would be able to help - it would just be easier to ask if you didn’t have to look at him when you did. You’d need to be careful, tiptoeing along this line between friend and something else - something more - was a task done delicately. Otherwise the whole friendship could crumble, and Rin was not a person that you wanted to lose.

“Why are you quiet?”

“Wanted to ask you something, but I’m not sure how to ask.”

“Then just ask.”

Easy for him to say, he was great at being blunt (most of the time). This wasn’t something you were sure about, as Rin’s affection came few and far between. But you’d known about a girlfriend or two, affairs that didn’t last long but were long enough that he’d slept with them so he was your only option.

“How do you make a girl cum? Like…what’s your technique?” You feel like you’re in a furnace, your face hot as there’s a pause on the other side of the call. He probably thought you were stupid, figuring out how to cut this tie and ensure his cat was still taken care of from today on.

“Was there a sexual awakening that I missed?”

“Uh…no?” Your voice wobbles, embarrassment having taken over but you know you’re in the fire now. Rin wouldn’t drop this - he sounded too interested to be willing to. “It’s more like a me problem.”

“You need help finishing yourself off.”

“It sounds pathetic when you say it like that!” Your complaint earns a chuckle from him on the other side, and your face is warm with embarrassment. “But basically, yeah. I get so close and then it’s just…gone. Kinda silly, but it’s bugging me.”

“I can see why. Are you in my bed?”

“Yeah.”

“Bring anything with you?”

You hesitate to answer, since the implication of a positive response would be that you were masturbating in his bed while he was away. Not that it mattered, considering that you just told him something deeply personal regarding your sex life - a vibrator in his bed likely would be nothing in comparison.

“Don’t get it yet, first take your shorts off for me.”

It’s easy to follow instructions when it was Rin dishing them out. Usually the mask he wore when out playing soccer slipped, leaving a soft spoken man who just rolled with the punches for you to hang out with in your shared free time. When he maintained that control it always turned you on, the dull tenor of his voice and cold gaze sending shockwaves directly to your core that had you pushing yourself closer to him to absorb more of that energy that radiated off of him.

You’re obedient as he gives you instructions, first to wet your middle finger before sliding it between your folds. It’s only a bit embarrassing to feel just how wet you were hurt from talking to Rin - and you couldn’t even see what he was doing on the other side of the ocean. He sounds amused at the information, telling you to bring some of that wetness up to your clit.

“It’s about building anticipation,” he says, and you open your legs more as you continue to move your finger in tight circles. “Patience is key, don’t rush it.”

It was hard to be patient when you were desperate for that release that had been evading you for weeks. First it was just day by day, believing it was just a mental block or stress keeping you from cumming, but gradually became hour-by-hour that you worried you would never feel that bliss again. Patience would be near impossible when this was something you wanted more than anything else - if anything just to make sure that there wasn’t something irreversibly wrong with you.

“Relax.”

“‘M trying.”

“Not hard enough.” He was such a bastard. “I can’t get off until you do.”

Of course he’d challenge himself, placing a stipulation on his ability to help you reach that peak and actually fall off the edge and onto the other side. Typical Rin, but the labored breathing on the other end tells you something else. This wasn't just him helping you get off, this was full fledged phone sex now, the official crossing of a line previously left untouched. The question of what happens after this is better left unspoken, held back until Rin was in the same room as you and neither of you could dance around the topic. Not that he would, but you wanted to cover all bases.

“Do you need to stretch yourself out a bit or can you take your vibrator without it?”

“I should be okay without it.”

“Get it wet with your mouth, but play with it a little bit like you would if it was me.”

This had to be part of the anticipation. Playing with the toy that would be penetrating you as if trying to get it just as excited as you were. The additional prompt to treat it as if it were him you were sucking has your face hot - as if you were sitting directly in front of a fire.

“D-do you want it to be me stroking your cock?”

“As much as I’m sure you want it to be me rubbing your clit right now.” That had you humming as you brought your vibrator to your lips, setting your phone on your chest while on speaker so you could still hear him but use both your hands. “But we’ll work that out when I get back.”

You wish he could see you nod around the vibrator, since the sound you made at his statement could easily be interpreted as a sound you made at rubbing your clit. This would be so much easier if he was here, but you’d make do with what you had.

“Sounds so messy,” he teases, but you don’t care because you knew he liked it since he bothered to comment on it. “Get it nice and wet?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then push it in slowly. I want you to feel every inch of it.”

You do as he says, eyes falling shut at the feeling of the penetration and trying to picture Rin on top of you. His hair would probably fall in his face, tickling your face as it moved with his head and his thrust.

His name tumbles from your lips in a stuttered gasp, prompting his own groan that has you clenching around your toy as you continue to guide it in. He reminds you to relax and take it slow, and you take a couple deep breaths before continuing until it’s at the hilt.

“Don’t turn it on yet, fuck yourself with it for me. Move slow,” he instructs, voice heavy with his own lust. “But move your fingers slow on your clit. Feel it build a bit.”

You crave the additional stimulation from the vibration but don’t dare to defy Rin’s instructions after you’d asked him for help. He wasn’t above stopping entirely if you went against his suggestion, and for your own sake you push the thought aside as your hands move like he’d instructed.

When he tells you to turn on the toy you don’t hesitate, keeping it on the lowest setting as he’d instructed and keeping the thrusts slow.

“Takin’ it so well,” he mumbles, and you nod your agreement as your hips raise of their own accord. “Feel good?”

“Y-yeah. You?”

“Yeah.” He pauses, and you can hear the wet sound of his hand sliding along his shaft. His breathing was labored, you assumed that he was doing his best to hold off as he’d promised, the sound one of the sexiest noises you'd ever heard in your life and would happily play on loop as the soundtrack to assist in your next solo session.

“Pick up the pace a bit. Not too fast and angle it so it’s pointing upwards a bit.”

He continues to instruct you, an “oh, fuck” or “shit” breaking up his sentences on occasion but making you clench around the toy you fucked yourself with. Being part of the reason why the ever-collected Rin Itoshi was falling apart was a unique position to be in, but a position you were excited to be in. The adjusted angle has you seeing stars, the tightening of your core an indicator of an ending you hoped you achieved.

“R-Rin, I’m gonna cum.” You actually were, and you were so excited that he’d gotten you there. “Oh my god, I’m gonna-“

“Don’t hold it. Cum for me and let me hear you.”

The way you cry out when you finally tip over that edge is unrecognizable. The waves of pleasure that crash through your system have your legs shaking as your thighs clench around your hand, tears pricking at your eyes at the immense pleasure you were finally getting to experience after what felt like a lifetime. On the other end of the line you hear Rin’s stifled groans as you assume he reached his own end. He probably looked so pretty, chest heaving and hair sticking to his forehead since he’d sweat, you couldn’t wait to see it in person when he got back.

Your body relaxes back into the mattress, your vibrator turned off but still held in your pussy as you try to steady your breathing as he asks: “Feel better?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m home on Thursday, and I’ll make you cum so many times you’ll forget you ever had issues with it.”

“Threat or promise?”

“Both.”

[i-dared-myself]

Heads

Hyunjin x reader

Requested ‘sequal’ of this.

In which your hopeless romantic blunders come to an end

18+

After another terrible date, you stumble into your apartment. You barely manage to kick your shoes off before you sink to the floor and cry.

Is there really no one decent out there? Why do your dates feel the need to point out your flaws? Why are they all such assholes?

You dump your purse next to the door, along with your jacket. It’s future-you’s problem, and future-you is going to call now-you a bitch.

You remove your makeup, and return to your living room. Turning on a stupid romantic film is what you need right now, so you do it.

You gather your pyjamas and bring them to your living room, peeking at the television. The love interest has the protagonist in his arms, and this is what you need in your life.

But alas, you only attract morons, apparently.

“I could offer you a deal.”

You whip around, shrieking in alarm. The man grimaces, covering his ears with his hands.

“Who the fuck are you?” you demand. Your eyes flick to the kitchen, where your knives are (obviously) located.

“Hyunjin.” He offers you a small bow, lips tugging up at the corners. His dark red hair falls around his face before he tucks it back, eyes glinting. “Love god, at your service.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “Really? Prove it.”

He seems taken aback, and frowns slightly. “Prove it? How?”

“I dunno.” You shrug and take a miniature step to the kitchen. “You’re the love god.”

Hyunjin rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek, considering your words for a moment. “I don’t need this contract.”

“Contract? Are the you devil or a love god?” You snort and shake your head. As you feign amusement, you continue to shuffle backwards.

Hyunjin entwines his fingers behind his back, cocking his head. “I’ve been called both. And I don’t think I need to prove myself to you. You’re the one who’s lonely and unloved.”

You wince. “Harsh. Okay fine, what do you have for me?”

He chuckles, gliding forwards until his chest is a hair’s width away from yours. If you take a deep breath they would brush together.

“I can give you undying affection and passion unlike anything in those… tasteless movies.” Hyunjin flashes the television a look of disdain before returning his attention to you. He lifts a hand to lean it on the wall next to your head, leaning even closer. “What do you say?”

You swallow thickly. What he’s suggesting is everything you’ve ever wanted.

“And what do I have to do in exchange?” You gaze up, right into his eyes. They’re half-lidded and his eyelashes frame his gorgeous eyes.

“Nothing.” Hyunjin smiles wryly. His other hand is brought up to gently caress your cheek. “Just a small, teeny-tiny, little thing.”

“What is it?” 

His lips part to speak, and you barely hear the words coming out of his mouth. But you do. And they cut through the haze in your head.

“You have to play a bit of a game with me,” he simply says. “Doesn’t that seem like fun? Then you can have your happily ever after.”

“What kind of game?” you ask him warily as he spins around and drapes himself across your couch. The knife is forgotten and the only thing at the forefront of your focus is what he could give you.

“We flip a coin. If it’s tails, you get your true love. If it’s heads, you die.” Hyunjin looks smug and pleased with himself. He holds a hand up, and a coin gleams between two elegant fingers.

“I… die?” you repeat. Suddenly this doesn’t seem like such a good idea. 

“Well, there’s a chance you’ll survive.” His expression shifts and he looks away. He’s still toying with the coin. “Anyone I kiss dies. It’s ironic, considering who I am. The only one that can survive, is-“

“Death,” you finish. “Love-hate relationship with them? I get it.”

Hyunjin blinks. “What? No. Don’t interrupt me, either.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, not wanting to risk his wrath. Does he only kill people by kissing them? Or does he also stab them? Either way, you don’t want it.

“The only one who can survive is my true love.” Hyunjin curls his fingers to get you to approach, patting the couch next to him. “Ready?”

You hesitantly sit, watching as he flips the coin. It lands on the table and you both peer down at it.

“Heads,” Hyunjin croons, slowly raising his gaze to yours. He scoots closer to you as your heart sinks.

“Get it over with.” You sigh and cast a hateful look at the coin.

Hyunjin’s hand comes to the back of your head, cradling it gently. He pulls you closer to him, his grip firm and his lips soft as they lower to yours.

You kiss him back, because why not? You have nothing to lose at this point.

His head moves and his lips part. You accept his tongue slipping into your mouth as he guides you down until your back hits the couch cushions.

Then he’s hovering above you, eyes wide. You’re waiting for the inevitable end. The last thing you’ll see is his stupidly pretty face, and you can’t be mad about it.

“You’re not dead,” he observes.

“You’re smarter than you look,” you tease, mind reeling with what this means.

If you’re not dead, and he’s surprised at this fact…

“I’ve looked for you for so long,” Hyunjin whispers and buries his face against your neck. His teeth graze the skin there. “Can I fuck you, please?”

Your breath hitches. “What?”

“Please?” he begs. “I’ll make it so no other man can pleasure you. None of those shitty men will make you happy like I can.”

You hum. Maybe this a little hasty, but you’re just glad you’re not dead.

“Words, pretty girl.” Hyunjin lifts you into his arms.

“Yes, you can fuck me,” you tell him. Then you’re being dumped on a bed of smooth sheets. “What the-“

“This is my room.” He gestures around to your surroundings. There are paintings hanging on the walls and big windows that overlook… clouds? 

“Okay then,” is all you can say. 

Hyunjin grins and snaps his fingers, and then suddenly your clothes are gone. His have been removed as well, and he crawls across the bed to stare down at you.

“No other men are like me,” he promises silkily. A finger is plunged into you, quickly followed by another. You fist the sheets at the stretch, feeling him scissor them out.

“Please.” You grind down on his hand. “Please, Hyunjin!”

He coos and runs his hands through your hair. “Oh, you’re not cumming until I say.”

“Why?” You gasp as his fingers in your hair tighten and wrench your head up. “Hyunjin!”

“Face down, ass up, pretty girl.” Hyunjin manipulates you into the position he wants. He sighs heavily and tosses his head back. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.”

You moan as he enters you, squeezing around him. You claw at the sheets as he rolls his hips experimentally. “Just-“

He shushes you as he thrusts. Strands of his hair stick to his face. “Gonna marry you and everything.”

You squirm back against him. “Y-Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Hyunjin reaches down to circle your clit. “I’ll fill you up anytime you want. You’ll be like this every day, just for me.”

“Just for you,” you agree. You can feel yourself flutter around him as he continues muttering. You’re getting closer and closer.

Hyunjin forces your back into an arch, at just the angle he wants. This way, his thrusts hit the spot that makes your eyes roll back, and you’re babbling out pleas to cum. 

“I wanna see that face as you cum.” He presses harder to your clit, grinding hard against you. “I bet it’s just as pretty as the rest of you.”

Your mouth falls open as you fall over the edge. He works you through it, thrusts stuttering until he spills deep inside you.

Hyunjin pulls out, smiling at you gently. His hair frames his face as sweat shines on his body. “I’ll clean you up, then get you some water.”

You blink dazedly. “Sure. And cuddles.”

He stretches out, waving a hand to form robes on the both of you. “Anything you want, pretty girl.”

Tagslist:

@velvetmoonlght

[raconteur-wanpi]

One Piece 1137 Spoilers

Not a review, just talking about a way Oda often handles characters and how we see that again this chapter.

OK while everyone is busy freaking out and talking about Shamrock and blah blah blah, I'm gonna bring up something way more inconsequential, but like.

I cannot BELIEVE Oda said "let's give Rodo, the comic-relief horrible creep, a tiny and extremely brief moment of genuinely humane characterization" lmao. Also let's use that as a chance to reflect on Zoro's role once more lol.

He has a habit of doing this -it reminds me a lot of how Helmeppo was nothing but a comic-relief bastard at first, but when you least expected it he somehow got a bunch of characterization and development. Oda loooves writing even the most unlikable characters to still feel like people. And honestly, it takes skill, even it it's in really small ways. And he does it in a way where they're not like, forgiven for their bad elements or anything, just expanded upon. Like, Rodo is still an asshole and creep, but even a joke of a character like him can have selfless motivations, and that's very interesting and hard to pull off as a writer.

I am now most curious to see more of Hajrudin and where his story takes him after this! Yeah yeah God Knights, whatever, that's cool too. But honestly, my attention was fully held by the Ancient Giant lore and potential Royal Family Drama instead! I neeeeed those Harald, Loki & Hajrudin flashbacks stat.

Elbaph has been showing a lot of thematic signs of like... weird behavior around Outcasts, actually. Between Harald ripping his own horns off becuase he considers the blood of ancient giants "barbaric" (how does this affect those still born with them?), Loki being branded as cursed and destined to be evil BEFORE he was even born, Hajrudin being seen as "not pure-blooded" due to his mother being from another giant tribe, even Rodo having only one friend (even though that's his fault honestly), and of course Collun being a branded a "wild child" and mocked by his peers... yeah. I see a Theme a bit.

[mymoshangthoughts]

oki oki oki

so i love, you love, and we love the whole "everyone sees moshang except for moshang" thing, bc it's funny to have everyone else be like "ohwow those two idiots dont realize they're married huh"

but like

might i suggest the alternative?

idk i was rereading svsss and like, since the whole thing is basically shen yuan's pov and he's a relatively level headed dude, i can't help but think about the way that he looks at moshang

like, he really doesn't seem to have any idea that moshang could be a thing. from his pov, shang qinghua/airplane is a sniveling backstabbing asshole who gets what deserves and deserves quite a bit more thwacks and mobei jun is just kinda... there. like even after knowing shang qinghua for YEARS and being fairly close people who can confide in one another, shen yuan seems pretty fucking shocked when airplane jumps off a cliff to save mobei jun. from his pov, it's almost random. like "huh wow that is the weirdest thing i've seen all week, and airplane is NORMALLY very weird so like... huh???"

now by the time the airplane extras occur, shen yuan DOES seem to have some idea of moshang with his whole "youre just waiting for him to apologize and keep beating you" thing, but again, might i point you to the YEARS it took him to get to that point. having to see shang qinghua literally pull a death defying stunt to save mobei jun's life before he sees even a glimmer of moshang

like, when they were working on the mushroom together, they clearly spent a long time with each other. they had to travel together, they had to come up with plans together, they also likely just had social visits bc being the only other transmigrator in a world that is so fucking weird would definitely drive up a certain level of honesty and companionship

now again, shen yuan is lowkey the sort of guy who's like "i dont see gay themes even when they're reeeeaaalllyy obvious", especially with relation to himself (dont get me started on how one of my least fav mxtx themes, after the blatant crummy treatment of female characters, is the whole "im not GAY, gay is WEIRD, im gay FOR YOU, thats DIFFERENT" which winds up reflecting as internalized homophobia their protags), so it's possible that moshang is obvious to everyone who isnt shen yuan.

BUT I CONTEND THE OPPOSITE

as ive expressed before, i love "mobei jun is just fucking weird, demon courting isnt like that" headcanons, so what if no one knows what the fuck is happening between moshang. like they're just this super weird mismatched combination of people that everyone just kinda tilts their head at like "...huh, wouldnt expect to see those two together but whateves" and then proceed to not fucking care to know the answer

shang qinghua seems to have kept a purposeful emotional distance from... everyone (likely due to the whole "haha everyone here is gonna fucking DIE someday" thing) and as said above, even after years of a relationship with shen yuan, he doesn't seem to have talked about mobei jun to him much (who is, by airplane's own admission, the most important person to him in this world considering he's the only person that had airplane going "i mean... maybe i dont push the go home button?"). so no one really seems to give a fuck who he's hanging out with bc he's not exactly out here making friends

and mobei jun, i contend, is a weirdo outcast who does not know how to socialize bc his uncle is a dick LOL. also his father. and also his childhood. and other demons tend to look at him and go "fucking weird man... i think he keeps a human pet?? kinda weird but w/e, the emperor is into necrophilia so /shrug/"

so like, maybe if anyone paid attention to them, they might notice the signs of moshang, but because most people kinda dismiss them, no one knows

I CONTEND THAT THE ONLY ONE WHO DOES KNOW IS LUO BINGHE THO

mostly because i find it FUCKING HILARIOUS but also bc i like to think luo binghe's whole "youre not used to his lil human pet yet? he brings it everywhere smh get over yourself" thing was luo binghe's way of being a wingman lmfao. he wont actually help or offer advice or do anything USEFUL, but he'll allow them to hang out when he has every ability to separate them LOL and i think that's funny

altho i still like the idea of luo binghe ALSO not knowing that moshang is a thing pfff. but having him know also amuses me.

ANYWAY ONTO THE ACTUAL APPLICATION INTO MOSHANG IDEAS

now the use in modern au's goes without saying. the good ol' "wait, THOSE TWO ARE A THING?!" coming from everyone who knows them. as an example, some form of workplace romance and even tho moshang can always be seen together in the office, because they dont seem to get along and no one cares, everyone is just like "shrug, they have a project together idc". like they're more likely to think that shang qinghua and shen yuan are dating bc at least those two have secretive meetings and have been caught, more than once, talking about sex. then one day shang qinghua shows up to work with the biggest rock on his finger pfff and mobei jun has a matching wedding band or someshit and everyone is shocked. or even better, some of the romantic pre-relationship stuff starts happening at the office but it's all stuff that's kinda easily misunderstood. and since no one would guess THOSE TWO together romantically, they just come up with any other plausible explanation. "why did mobei jun send shang qinghua flowers? idk, maybe his mom died. should we send him flowers too?" its not even a 'it couldnt be THAT', it's a straight up 'THAT never even crossed their minds for a second' until it gets really fucking ridiculous lololol then mobei jun and shang qinghua are applying for the same days off and mu qingfeng in HR is like "oki what for" and has to NOT do a spit-take when the two of them are like "our wedding" or someshit lolol

LOOK I JUST THINK IT'S VERY FUNNY

now as for the post-canon application, i still find this IMMENSELY amusing. for the sake of my amusement, im also choosing to interpret shen yuan's "you just want an apology" statement to have been given without imagining that the two of them might like-like each other. he's just being dismissive because airplane is fucking weird. like "look, idk why you are into role-playing as a humble servant and idk if i wanna know, actually, i definitely dont wanna know. you two clearly dont even like each other but you're in some weird co-dependent mess of a... friendship? friendship seems like a strong word. point being, get out of my house"

no one has the slightest clue about moshang's feelings for one another (except maybe binghe lolol) and they are REALLY not ready for when suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, shang qinghua is sending in his two weeks notice for an ding peak bc "oh im the northern consort now lol" and everyone is trying to just understand WHEN and HOW

like people straight up being like "is this a prank? i feel like im being pranked?" and others like "oh they might have gotten like... fake married? is this an insurance scam? hmm"

and basically for the first time ever people are really trying to understand and think about moshang bc they are SO FUCKING CONFUSED. there are betting pools over what the REAL REASON behind this CLEARLY fake marriage is. luo binghe has put his bet on "they're actually in love and fr married" and people SCOFF. he's the only one betting that and wow, the demon emperor is clearly blinded by his own weird relationship and cant see that NORMALLY this sort of relationship would NEVER happen

(actually this could apply for modern au too pff whateves, im jsut having fun here)

inquiring minds just being like "shang qinghua, blink twice if you're being threatened, we can get you out of there". demons out here like "we should prrobabblyy find the cure for whatever potent love-poison that creepy lil human slipped into mobei jun's drink, or maybe a mind-control plant?"

stuck on whether i want moshang to be utterly oblivious to everyone elses skepticism bc they're just on their happy lil honeymoon stage or if i want them to find the confusion Deeply amusing.

moshang get-together being dramatic but not bc either of them are oblivious, just bc there are communication issues pff. theres no "i love you" "but you CANT love me" drama, instead its "i love you" "oh shit SWEET, lemme hop on your dick". i like the idea of moshang only struggling to understand one another when the pair of them are holding the other at arms length (mobei jun being a tsundere and airplane out here like "getting attached and taking things srsly IS THE ENEMY") but whenever theres like, a clear statement of intent, they're quick to let go of misunderstandings and just get on with it. now while i favor this interpretation of their characters, i find it PARTICULARLY funny in au's like this! bc it also means that the pair of them learned to understand all of their weird behavior as well. so they're still fucking weird around each other, so people really dont believe this is real. mobei jun is still just as likely to yeet shang qinghua into a death cave and shang qinghua is just as likely to literally hug mobei jun's thighs while pleading for mercy. it doesnt LOOK like a loving relationship to anyone with eyes LOL (not to say that they dont grow and treat each other better, but just having a deeper understanding of one another means they dont change behavior 100%)

which actually isnt why i find it funny lol, i just enjoy the subversion of expections. rather than moshang being oblivious to the point of mind-numbing hair pulling stupidity, it's the rest of the world x'D and then it's just moshang casually proving that nah, they're for real, and yep, they're super in love, to an increasingly confused audience

this could work really well in a celebrity au now that i think about it LOL bc celebs so frequently have fake relationships and hidden relationships and all that sort of weird shit and people love to speculate about it online. so just everyone being like "calling it right fucking now, this relationship is a publicity stunt" and literally NO ONE believes they're for real, even years into it LOL. im actually usually a person who really doesnt care for celebrity au's but tbh this prompt fits so well for that, so im sold

but it goes beyond just fans speculating online. even fellow coworkers are like "huh, weird choice of publicity stunt" and dont believe for one fucking second that moshang is actually happening. oki yeah im sold

shang qinghua - famous author turned screenwriter (does some directing and he's actually pretty good at it, has a cult following, but mainly he sticks to writing. he doesnt need that kind of stress in his life LOL). he's finally reached a sort of financial stability with his work, but he hasnt broken the habit of doing whatever the audience wants because "I DONT WANNA FUCKING STARVE BRO", and he's generally disheartened when his works that he puts his sincere vision into have a tendency to be SIGNIFICANTLY less popular

mobei jun - actor, specially known for stunts and action movies. doesnt actually have any history of scandals, other than it's known that he's kinda hard to work with. just kinda cold and distant. THERE ARE some lowkey scandals with his family tho. he's definitely a nepo baby of the industry and his uncle and father dont have clean reputations. mobei jun normally keeps a pretty big distance away from them so he's kinda like, in the splash zone but not dragged in.

shen yuan - long time fan of shang qinghua's work, even back when the hack of an author was just posting web novels, his favorite insult is to call him a sell-out bc very often his deepest criticisms of shang qinghua's works are clearly choices made for money. as an example, a perfectly directed film that he wrote and nearly brought shen yuan to tears and quickly became his favorite movie EXCEPT theres fucking product placement in NEARLY EVERY FUCKING SCENE and sometimes it makes the movie fucking UNWATCHABLE. anyway, shen yuan runs the fansite for shang qinghua and is a LITTLE BIT OBSESSED with his works, but still has a love/hate relationship with the whole thing

luo binghe - pop idol who sometimes does acting work. he's known as an all-around talent. his acting is just as good as his singing, if not better, and basically everything he tries to do is wildly successful and genuinely fucking good. he's insanely popular to a scary degree (shen yuan is only familiar with his work bc he's acted in some of qinghua's movies and sometimes qinghua uses his music, shen yuan has an overall favorable impression of the celebrity but no obsession. mostly a "oh nice, that actor is really good, that and THAT HACK AUTHOR directing is sure to make this a must-watch movie" type of fanning)

liu qingge - stunt man and martial artist. he's not crazy famous, he's more like "if you're really into martial arts, you've definitely heard of him" or "if you're really into stunt work, you've heard of him" famous. but if you don't have those special interests, you have no idea. he MIGHT look faintly familiar to you, but you're unlikely to put a name to the face

shen jiu - actor, many scandals, SO MANY SCANDALS. he's very successful, infamously difficult to work with, has so many accusations hurled at him (and a majority of them are true) that when you hear "omg did you hear abt shen jiu" the answer is "ohyeah, the red-light district thing?" and the reply to that is "nonono, that was LAT MONTH, im talking abt the abuse allegations that came out yesterday!" and so on and so forth. shen jiu is a hot fucking mess and the industry has NOT helped him one bit. he has the money and power to get away with being his worst self and he Does Not Fucking Care (he cares so fucking much, he's literally burning from the inside out)

yue qingyuan - childhood friends with shen jiu, kind of accidentally being an enabler of shen jiu's spiral to hell. he's a producer and he's very successful and he keeps paving the way for shen jiu to continue getting work and help to bury scandals and basically the dude is trying his best, but he really should be putting his foot down and sending his friend to rehab instead of helping him like this

sha hualing - actress, does her own stunts, very temperamental. difficult to work with in that she's a bit (a lot) of a loose canon. she's hyper capable though and VERY popular. not a ton of scandals other than some violent behavior. she's also very good at dancing, basically anything that involves moving her body, she excels. her and mobei have totally starred in action movies together where theyre basically "hot beefy action hero and sexy badass love interest". they have a casual frenemy relationship

liu mingyan - average fanfiction writer, huge fan of rpf. she is relatively untouched by her brothers fame and intends to keep it that way. that said, she's more than happy to utilize the gossip that her brother sometimes brings home to implement as 'headcanons' into her fanfics >:D she does not tell her brother about this pfff. she also does martial arts and she's very good, but she has no desire to pursue fame. the closest she gets to it is sometimes watching her brother on a set (while secretly paying attention to everyone else for rpf bait LOL). she is not a fan of the whole moshang thing because it separates her otp (mobing for life!) and she's also convinced that its CLEARLY fake

mu qingfang - doctor, just a normal doctor, no fame involved. but his guilty pleasure is that he enjoys looking at celebrity gossip while on break. it's just a very lowkey sort of cathartic drama that he has no stakes in and helps him destress from his very stressful job. he mostly just lurks, but he's been known to write the occasional comment if he feels he has some useful insight to contribute

ning yingying - over-worked office lady. she wanted to be a pop idol when she was younger but it just wasnt in the cards. now she just enjoys getting a little parasocially invested in celebrity gossip, ESPECIALLY around luo binghe bc she's a. a mega fan. b. they were actually classmates in highschool. she's a fierce defender of his online and also one of those people who gets kinda offended by rpf bc "HOW COULD YOU THINK THAT" but also hypocritically will read every single "rpf character x reader" fanfic she can get her hands on

ming fan - luo binghe's hater online. mostly because he also knew him in highschool and hated the guy and now he's ugly jealous of his success. he likes to spread mean rumors about binghe online, just to blow off some steam. but his stupid obsession with slandering his ex-classmate sort of grew into a genuine interest in celebrity gossip and now he's a bit of an internet troll who's a little too invested in this shit. he's not a complete asshole and there are lines he won't cross, buuut he's also one of those assholes who sorta feels like "its online so it doesnt count if im a huge asshole" and just is his worst self online. he constantly gets in fights with ning yingying online (without knowing its her) about luo binghe. shen yuan sometimes gets involved too bc while he's not huge into the binghe fandom (that place scares him) he IS big on fact checking and whenever ming fan says something OBVIOUSLY false, shen yuan can't help but go in for corrections

qi qingqi - actress, successful, very low drama. she's famous and well liked, no major scandals, just a successful woman with a good career.

zhuzhi-lang - works as his uncles assistant. he keeps track of online drama because its part of his job, sometimes his uncle has him spread rumors online too so he has a few alts that are believable fan accounts for various celebrities.

tianlang-jun - one of those people who's basically famous just for being famous. he has done a bit of everything, but it's mostly that he's a household name that makes him famous. he currently works as a producer because he finds it really fucking funny. but it's anyones guess when he'll get bored of this and flit off to do something else that catches his fancy

su xiyan - model and martial artist. she's mostly famous for her TURBULANT relationship with tianlang-jun. she's skilled at both her crafts and has success, but she has no real ambition for fame. also her career is often held back by the shitty people in her life (her ex-mentor being PRIME among them, the grooming old scumbag). she got pregnant with binghe very early in her career and gave him away for adoption for various reasons. she has a good relationship with his adopted mother, but she's chosen to stay out of binghe's life. tianlang-jun doesn't know binghe is his son LOL

meng mo - thinks of himself as a star-maker, he's luo binghe's manager and has a VERY high opinion of his skills bc he's had a few successful clients. he does however tend to give very bad personal life advice

yang yixuan - one of liu qingge's students. he's only passively aware of celebrity gossip, it's really not his thing, but he is a bit of a mobei jun fan. mostly bc mobei jun does his own stunts and yan yixuan can recognize the skill involved and just thinks the guy is really fucking cool (not more cool than liu qingge OBVIOUSLY but still cool). he's very disappointed to hear abt this clearly fake relationship with shang qinghua, he thought that mobei jun was above all that petty celebrity bullshit of fake relationships and tabloid bait

gongyi xiao - aspiring young actor, overall just a nice guy. no scandals, not really famous yet but he has a promising lil fanbase that is slowly growing. however, he does have a bad habit of answering too honestly while being interviewed which can inadvertently have bad consequences LOL (example: "so what do you think of this moshang thing?" "hm, i mean, it really surprised me? seemed out of nowhere haha, i guess good for them??" which quickly spirals into "omg gongyi xiao CLEARLY knows it's fake! he cant lie for shit! THIS IS BASICALLY EVIDENCE")

qin wanyue - binghe fan, terminally parasocial, lives off of rpf fanfiction, literally missed her younger sisters funeral to attend a binghe concert, probably needs professional help like yesterday. when the online conversations of moshang start involving binghe, she gets VERY FUCKING UPSET

little palace mistress - nepo baby pop idol. very obsessed with binghe but also in a love/hate sort of way bc he doesnt do what she WANTS him to do and she craves the obedience. she takes out her impudent rage online. she's a big mobei jun hater bc she saw the mobing conspiracies before moshang happened AND SHE SAW RED. she now wants moshang to crash and burn bc she hates mobei jun with an irrational passion. she is doing her best to sabotage whatever stupid publicity stunt this is

(ships: moshang, bingyuan, liujiu, mingling)

moshang had their own super slowburn romance of actor x director that happened over the course of years and the mutual pining was basically killing them both and they had their own dramatic love confessions and shit, but it all happened behind closed doors so no one knows any of that. all they know is that this relationship Makes No Sense and internet sleuths are very invested with UNCOVERING THE TRUTH

[charliedaltonswife]

as henry’s longtime friend, he becomes irritated with your blossoming friendship with newcomer richard. it’s not until he notices the copy of sapphos on your nightstand that things boil over. he confronts you about the romantic nature of these poems, and amidst a tense argument, true feelings are revealed. for the poems were never about richard, after all…

basically a childhood friends with a secret crush moment…i can see henry being a real asshole to mask his jealousy 🤭

A Jealous Temper

Henry Winter x reader (The Secret History)

thank you nonnie, i got carried away and write a bit much!

Summary: read the request

Warnings: none i believe

master list found here

The first time Henry Winter spoke to you, he was six years old, standing stiffly in the corner of the garden where the other children were playing tag. His hair was slicked down, his shoes too shiny, and he looked at you like you were some curious artifact he wasn’t quite sure how to categorize.

You’d been sitting cross-legged in the grass, inspecting a row of ants marching determinedly toward a crumb of bread. When you noticed him, standing there awkwardly with his hands tucked behind his back, you tilted your head and said, “Why aren’t you playing with the others?”

He hesitated, glancing toward the chaos of shouting children. “They’re loud,” he said, his tone careful, precise. “And uncoordinated.”

You grinned, patting the patch of grass beside you. “Come sit, then. I’m watching ants.”

Henry blinked at you, as though you’d suggested something scandalous, but after a moment’s deliberation, he lowered himself primly onto the ground, folding his legs with an almost comical rigidity. He followed your gaze to the ants, his expression skeptical.

“They’re taking crumbs to their queen,” you explained, your voice filled with the kind of certainty only a child could muster.

Henry’s brows knit together. “Ants don’t have queens.”

“Yes, they do,” you said confidently, pointing at the tiny black shapes. “They work together. She’s the boss. My mom said so.”

He frowned, considering this. “Well,” he finally said, “if they do have a queen, I don’t think she’s their boss. Maybe they just… like her. Enough to work for her.”

You squinted at him, considering his words. “That’s silly. Why would they do that?”

He shrugged, his small shoulders rising and falling with a kind of gravity that seemed out of place on someone so young. “Sometimes you do things for people you like. Even if you don’t have to.”

You thought about that for a moment, then nodded solemnly. “Okay, but I still think she’s the boss.”

Henry didn’t argue further, but when he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, there was the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

“You’re strange,” you said suddenly, matter-of-factly.

“So are you,” he replied, without missing a beat.

You both sat there in silence after that, watching the ants move back and forth, and somehow, it felt like the beginning of something neither of you could quite name.

Henry Winter had always been your anchor. The quiet, calculated one, always intent on the precision of things, be it philosophy or life itself. Since childhood, he had been a constant in your world, a steady, unshakable presence that you always relied on. He was, in many ways, the center of your universe, your closest confidant.

But lately, things had started to shift, even if you hadn’t yet dared to acknowledge it.

Richard Papen had come into the picture, a newcomer, full of naive wonder and an earnest desire to belong. He wasn’t like Henry, not in the least. He was raw, emotional, brimming with questions about the world. You’d found his curiosity infectious, and somehow, it had drawn you in. You’d never expected it to happen, this budding friendship with Richard. 

But Henry wasn’t blind.

It was in the way he began to avoid you in the hallways, his sharp gaze always cutting across you like a razor, a silent edge to his every movement. He wasn’t outright hostile, but there was a coldness there, an intensity you didn’t fully understand.

-

You awoke to the sharp, unforgiving sound of your blinds being yanked open, the cold gray light of the morning spilling into the room like an unwelcome guest.

“God, Henry,” you groaned, pulling your blanket over your head as the sound of his measured footsteps approached. “It’s Saturday. Let me sleep.”

“You’ve already wasted half the morning,” came his reply, that low, calm cadence of his voice carrying a faint hint of exasperation. You heard the faint rustle of papers being straightened, books shifted on your desk, as he went about his usual routine of tidying up your chaos.

“Some of us need rest,” you shot back, peeking out from beneath the covers. “Not all of us wake at dawn to contemplate the Iliad.”

“And yet you’re always behind,” he quipped, his tone dry but tinged with amusement. He turned then, and you caught sight of the Sappho resting on your nightstand, its faded spine a familiar sight among your ever-growing collection. He picked it up without asking, examining it with a critical eye.

“Interesting choice,” he said after a beat.

You sat up, the covers pooling around your waist, and frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

His pale eyes met yours, glinting with something unreadable. “Only that it’s sentimental,” he said, turning the book over in his hands. “And I wouldn’t have pegged you as sentimental.”

You crossed your arms, already sensing where this was going. ���It’s poetry, Henry. It’s not an oh so deep confession of love darling.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice deceptively mild. But there was something sharper beneath it, a needle hidden in the silk.

Before you could reply, he set the book down with a deliberate motion, the soft thud of it echoing in the quiet room. His gaze fixed on you, “what exactly is it about Sappho that’s captured your attention lately?”

You rolled your eyes, pulling yourself out of bed with an annoyed huff. “Is this some kind of interrogation?”

“Should it be?” he countered smoothly, leaning back against your desk.

“For fuck sake,” You grumbled before grabbing a sweater from the back of your chair, slipping it over your sleep-rumpled shirt. “Why do you care?”

“I’m merely curious,” he said, though the tightness in his voice suggested otherwise. “It’s not as though I’ve seen you so invested in lyric poetry before.”

You were about to respond when there was a soft knock at the door, breaking the tension. You frowned and moved to open it, only to find Richard standing there, looking sheepish as he glanced between you and Henry.

Richards' very short glance down to your bare legs didn’t go unnoticed by Henry.

“Sorry,” Richard said quickly, shifting on his feet. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just wondering if you wanted to get breakfast.”

You hesitated, glancing back at Henry, whose expression had hardened into something unreadable.

“Breakfast?” you repeated, stalling.

“I’ll be fine here,” Henry interjected smoothly, though his tone was anything but warm. “Don’t let me keep you.”

Richard looked faintly uncomfortable, clearly picking up on the tension, but you forced a smile and turned back to him. “Maybe later,” you said quickly. “I’m still waking up and I haven’t done my translation for class yet.”

God you were stupid. It was Saturday, you didn’t have any work due. You hoped Richard hadn't noticed you were lying and offended him.  

“Right,” Richard said, nodding awkwardly. “No problem. I’ll see you later, then.” He gave you a quick smile before retreating down the hall.

When you closed the door and turned back to Henry, he was watching you with an expression that was far too measured, far too composed.

“Richard,” he said, his tone flat. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Don’t start.”

“Start what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Merely an observation.”

“You’re impossible, you know that?” you muttered, sinking back onto the edge of your bed.

“And you’re evasive,” he shot back, his voice cool. “What exactly is it about him that’s so fascinating?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Henry, can we not do this?”

“Do what?” he pressed, his voice sharper now. “I’m merely trying to understand why you’ve been so,” He stopped himself, his jaw tightening. “Distracted.”

You looked up at him, something hot and defensive flaring in your chest. “I’m not distracted,” you snapped. “And even if I were, it’s none of your business.”

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the room felt impossibly small, the air thick with something unspoken. “Is that what you think?” he asked, his voice low. “That this isn’t my business?”

Henry stepped closer, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the room as the tension thickened. He picked up the copy of Sappho from the desk once again, the movement deliberate, as if it were some damning piece of evidence. His thumb brushed over the worn edge of the cover, his expression unreadable, save for the faint crease between his brows.

“You never answered my question,” he said quietly, his voice low and even. Too even. “Why this?”

You met his gaze, feeling the weight of it settle over you like a heavy blanket. “I told you. Poetry. I like it.”

“Poetry,” he repeated, his lips curling ever so slightly in something that might have been a sneer, though he caught himself before it could fully take shape. “I got this for you years ago, you’ve had this for years, and yet it’s suddenly in heavy rotation. Why now?”

Your jaw tightened, frustration bubbling to the surface. “Must there always be an ulterior motive with you?”

“With you? No,” he said, the words sharp but delivered with a deceptively calm tone. “With others perhaps. Maybe Richard.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” you snapped, rising from the bed. “Not everything is about him!”

“Isn’t it?” he countered, the question cutting through the air like a blade. His pale eyes glinted, the frustration finally breaking through his carefully cultivated veneer. “You’ve been bending over backwards to welcome him, to include him in everything, to make him comfortable. Do you know how absurd it is to watch you fawn over him?”

“Fawn? God you’re infuriating sometimes,” you repeated, your voice incredulous. “I’m being polite. He’s new, Henry. Unlike you, not everyone thrives on cold indifference!”

His jaw clenched, the muscles working as he stared at you, unblinking. “It’s more than that,” he said finally, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. “You’ve been distant as well.”

“Maybe because I’m tired of walking on eggshells around you,” you shot back, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

His eyes widened, just a fraction, before narrowing again. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” you said, taking a step toward him, “that you can be difficult Henry. That you push people away the second they do something you don’t like. That you act like every little thing is a betrayal.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond, his expression hardening like stone. Then, slowly, he raised the book again, flipping it open to a random page. His eyes scanned the text, and when he spoke, his voice was laced with cold amusement.

“‘He is more than a hero,’” he read aloud, his tone almost mocking. “‘He is a god in my eyes, the man who is allowed to sit beside you.’” He snapped the book shut, his gaze cutting into you like a knife. “Tell me. You have this underlined. A god like Richard does not make you distant from other people?”

The question hit you like a punch to the chest, knocking the wind out of you. Your mouth opened, then closed again, no words forming.

“Nothing to say?” he pressed, stepping closer until he was just a breath away. “I wonder why.”

Your fists clenched at your sides, your heart pounding in your chest. “You don’t get to do this,” you said, your voice shaking with anger. “You don’t get to pick apart my life like it’s some academic exercise. Not when you-” You stopped yourself, biting back the rest of the sentence.

“Not when I what?” he asked, his voice deceptively soft.

“Not when you’re just as guilty,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes darkened, his expression tightening like a coil about to snap. “Guilty of what?”

“Of pretending you don’t care,” you said, your voice gaining strength. “Of acting like nothing matters to you, like you’re above it all. But you’re not, Henry. You care. You care too much, and you hate it.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and damning. For a moment, the room was silent, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating.

Then, slowly, Henry’s shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers shaking ever so slightly.

The air between you was suffocating. The lamplight spilled across the room, flickering against the tight angles of Henry’s face, his eyes glinting like sharpened steel. He stood so close now, the faint scent of tobacco and cold winter air clinging to him, and you felt the pull of his presence like a magnet, impossible to resist even as anger boiled hot beneath your skin.

“You think you know me,” he said, voice low and taut as a string about to snap.

“I do,” you shot back, your words sharp enough to draw blood. “I’ve known you since you were a little boy. And that’s why I know exactly what this is about.”

“Oh, enlighten me, then,” Henry sneered, the edge in his voice like shattered glass. “Please, spare no detail.”

You stepped closer, your chest brushing his, your heartbeat hammering so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “This isn’t about Sappho. Or Richard. This is about you, Henry. About the fact that you can’t stand the idea of not being the center of the world.”

His eyes flashed, his jaw tightening as his breath hitched. “You think I’m upset that I’m not the centre of your world?” he said, but the words came out clipped, frayed at the edges, “don’t be absurd.”

“Admit it,” you pressed, your voice quieter now, trembling with something that wasn’t quite anger anymore. “Admit that you hate it. That it drives you mad to think of someone else being close to me.”

His silence was deafening. He stared at you, his gaze fierce and searching, as if trying to crack you open and read the truth written inside. And then, without warning, he moved.

His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist, the motion so sudden it made you gasp. He pulled you closer, the heat of his body overwhelming, his breath fanning across your face.

“Is that what you want me to say?” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, sending a shiver down your spine. “That I think about it constantly? That it makes me sick to imagine someone else touching you, hearing your laugh, knowing things about you that I don’t?”

You froze, his words hitting you like a physical blow, your breath caught in your throat.

“Tell me,” he demanded, his grip on your wrist tightening ever so slightly, his eyes dark and burning. 

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. Instead, you did the only thing you could think to do: you leaned in, closing the infinitesimal space between you, and pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was a collision, all teeth and heat and fury. His hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and you grabbed the front of his shirt, twisting the fabric in your fists. There was no softness in it, no tenderness; just the raw, unfiltered need that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long it felt like it might consume you both.

He kissed you like he was trying to prove a point, like he was staking a claim. And maybe he was. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip, and you gasped, giving him the chance to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that left you dizzy.

When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your faces so close you could feel the warmth of his skin against yours. His hand was still tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing against your jaw in a way that was almost tender, despite the fire in his eyes.

“Say it,” he whispered, his voice rough and low, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Say what?” you managed, your own voice barely above a whisper.

“That it wasn’t about him,” he said, his gaze locking onto yours, unrelenting. “That it’s never been about him.”

“It hasn’t,” you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “It’s always been about you, Henry.”

Something in his expression shifted then, the anger giving way to something deeper, rawer. He exhaled sharply, his hand slipping from your hair to cradle your face, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone.

“Good,” he said simply. Then, after a pause, his voice dropped even lower, almost inaudible. “Do you remember those ants?”

“What?” you asked, your brow furrowing, though your fingers stayed clinging to the fabric of his shirt.

His lips quirked in the faintest of smiles, though his eyes still burned with that unreadable intensity. “You said they only followed their queen because she was the boss. But I told you back then, it wasn’t that. They followed her beca-”

“They wanted to. Because they cared about her.” you asked softly, your voice barely audible.

His hand slid to your neck, his thumb brushing the pulse point there. “I follow because I can’t help it,” he said. “Because I care. Because it’s you.”

Your chest tightened at his words, and before you could overthink it, you leaned in again, capturing his mouth in another kiss. This one wasn’t a collision; it was an unraveling, slow and deliberate, every touch of his lips against yours speaking the words neither of you had dared to say until now.

a/n: look at me fucking churning these requests out, hope you all like them loves!!!

[quibbs126]

So after the last batch of Cyberverse sketches, I tried to do more here with Cyberverse Megatron specifically, since he kind of stuck himself in my brain, at least yesterday

Admittedly I wish I drew more, but by that last corner I just wasn’t sure what to draw. I actually did draw something, yet again trying to draw that one kissing meme thing with him and Optimus, but yet again it didn’t turn out right looking, so you don’t see it

But other than that, while I’m aware my drawings aren’t the best, I do think I’m at least getting the hang of drawing this version of Megatron. I’m aware his face is still off looking, but oh well

My only real thoughts for what to draw with him were “more of body”, “him thinking “oh no that’s hot” at something Optimus is doing”, “season 3 Megs” and “he drink coffee”. And also to attempt lineless

Note on that last thing, at least on the head, it’s not as difficult as I’d thought it’d be. I could probably do it, if I at least knew what I wanted to draw

I don’t really have much to say on the drawings themselves though? There isn’t much going on that I haven’t already said. All I can say is I tried to use screenshots for references more than usual, since I thought it’d help. I did stop at some point, but still

I don’t know how I feel about Cyberverse Megatron. I think he’s really only in my head because I was searching for Cyberverse megop fanfics after finishing the show

But also, he’s sort of your typical Megatron. An asshole, and usually the cause of alliances falling short and me saying “Megatron, you bitch”. Granted he’s not as evil as other Megatrons, at least most of the time, considering he was willing to destroy the AllSpark that one time, but it’s probably also because the Autobots and Decepticons have to team up so often in Seasons 2 and 3

But then there’s Season 3b Megatron, in which he has some adventure across the multiverse and comes back to help his universe, armed with his own Matrix and actually willing to save the day and have peace with Optimus and end the war, even if the planet is split in two. And at least in his initial appearance, he seems like he’s actually become at least a slightly better person

Like on one hand, I like this idea of him becoming better on his own time, and also we can just accept that maybe he’s become actually better since we don’t know what he was up to to cause this. But in the other, I really would have liked to see what he was up to. I guess they didn’t have enough time to show us

But yeah in 3b, he’s still an ass but he isn’t causing too much trouble, and is instead preparing for a worse threat to come, and then dies not as a villain, though he got taken out too quick to be called a hero in this scenario. Kind of disappointed he didn’t really get to do anything when the other Megatron showed up, would have been nice to see

But also I’m told that’s actually what kills him? He actually dies? I guess it is a more powerful version of him, but considering the other things other Megatrons have survived, and also we never really saw him die in the episode itself, considering he made noises of pain after being attacked and we just didn’t see him again after Bee took his Matrix, it feels kind of weak to me

I don’t know, his concepts in 3b are interesting to me

Also random side note, while I wasn’t expecting it, I appreciate his fusion cannon and mace having red lights instead of purple. I’m used to the purple but the red is consistent with the rest of his colors

Also there’s the subject of Cyberverse megop. It doesn’t have TFA’s issue of being strangers, in fact they seem to have known each other for a very long time and there’s no Elita or anything in this universe to be another past option for Optimus. And Megatron does do some bad things in this series, some worse than others, but also it seems like the characters of this show aren’t the most serious about this war, at least not like they are in Prime or something. Apparently every few millennia or so Optimus and Megatron try to have peace talks and negotiate, only for it to inevitably fall apart and things to start up again, and everyone’s just used to this

I think I can ship it, they have divorced energy and both sides are just used to it, including each other. They are in essence, the core values of typical megop I think, except they were actually on decent terms by the end of things, when Megatron dies. Sad that, why’d he have to die? At least make it heroic or something so he can go out with a bang

Yeah I don’t know, thought I should sprinkle in some thoughts on this version of Megatron while I’m here. I don’t have much honestly other than I think he’s fine and neat, and so is this version of the ship

I think I’m done now

[wt555]

I'm getting back into Steven universe and do you see my vision

like, look at the peridot we follow in the show:

-weeb (just like tord)

-tech nerd (which I envision tord would be, considering he had that secret laboratory and shit)(also the main reason I wanted him to be a peridot)

plus, I never envisioned Tord as a super strong guy either (hence why I like the limb enhancements that these peridots have)

In my head he's more nerdy and book smart rather than physically fit. He just likes the edgy aesthetic that being a "badass gun owner" comes with

-and they are both assholes

someone else probably already did this, but I hadn't drawn anything eddsworld related in a while, so I wanted to get this out of my system

idk if I'll make my own EW au about this, but I did think that Tord would be named "Tord" by Edd, as a nickname or something

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

I would be curious to hear your thoughts on Feferi through the classpect lens and being a witch of life?

yayyyy i get to talk about my favorite Mean Girl!!!

Witches are mercurial, temperamental, and start the game with some "outsider" status to society, meaning they've bypassed the usual rules of common sense and morality/ethics. Feferi is an heiress who lives all alone at the bottom of the sea (it's implied that others are too scared to get close because of Gl'bgolyb, including Eridan, who refuses to go underwater), Jade lived on an island and was practically raised by her demon dog, and Damara was an immigrant from East Beforus who presumably spent a lot of time hanging out with the Lost Weeaboos as their leader's GF.

As such, they tend to leave their sense of morality up to their emotions - what the Witch deems good is good, what the Witch deems bad is bad. Jade was considered by the beta trolls to be the primary cause of Bec Noir's creation, as from their point of view, she was a dangerous maverick who basically just took direction from the clouds of Skaia without questioning any of their directives, and Damara starts wishing to serve LE because she just wants her teammates to suffer (understandably) - a wish it turns out she would regret on Alternia, where she legitimately attempted suicide to get out from Doc Scratch's control.

This also leaves them fairly gullible and vulnerable to control by evil entities and poor sociopolitical beliefs, just because they're pleasant or easy. Jade is remarkably nicer to Tavros than Eridan, letting Tavros down easily and gently despite the fact that he literally just admitted to killing her grandpa, and demanding her romantic affection as a prize for his confidence and heroic gesture, whereas Eridan not only donated to her his legendary rifle as a gesture of kindness and goodwill, but also asked her about something that was bothering her and earnestly shared information about his own race when asked - because Tavros was "nice" to her, and Eridan was a rude jackass. If you look at what's happening objectively in those conversations, Jade honestly doesn't look good:

tavros: so i used bec to save your life and kill your grandpa, not understanding that that was a family member and not a threatening adult to you. i did this because heroic actions and self confidence get returned with romantic affection. i'm owed yours now! jade: well... i think it's good that you're confident, but i'm sorry, i don't really return your affections! let's try becoming friends first, okay?

eridan: so i don't really need my rifle anymore but i noticed that you use them, so you can have mine for free, it's super powerful and a family heirloom. jade: stfu asshole i hate you and i hate your shitty rifle. i'm going to throw this in the trash. explode

Damara is also remarkably kind to Rufioh, offering him genuine romantic advice, even though he really doesn't deserve it, pretty much purely because he can speak her language - her bar is so low that that's enough "kindness" to earn a regular conversation from her. She should've been allowed to kill him twenty times

Life players, meanwhile, are defined by optimism, stubbornness, and a sense of "normalcy". They're very normal people; Hussie notes this explicitly in the book commentary. They're just kind of stable, normal guys! They look on the bright side, and tend to ignore the downers, which, unfortunately, can include people who are in dire straits. Jane remains stubbornly skeptical of Roxy and Dirk's claims of being from the future and of Crockercorp being evil, and Meenah refuses to listen (at times seeming physically incapable of listening) when people tell her that it's not possible to just kill the invincible demon with unconditional immortality. She idolizes the Condesce, pretty much never acknowledging any wrongdoing on her part (except when Cronus calls her out lol), and doesn't give a fuck what anyone else thinks of her - to the detriment of the team.

Put these together and you get Feferi. She's kind of just a really normal girl, whose emotions define her view of morality and ethics... and that means that, while it's really awful that everyone murders each other all the time, casteism is actually great because being a princess is awesome.

CC: GLUUUUB oh fine. CC: I will suspend my neato quirk just for you. CC: I hereby renounce the royal mark of sea dweller supremacy in the interest of INT-ERSP-ECI-ES DIPLOMACY. [...] CC: Okay, you win. I have officially humbled myself before you. Entirely glubbing peasant-IFICATED for your pleasure. CC: Shall I clip my fins for you as well, your majesty? [...] CC: Hey! We're the aristocracy. We've got a duty to be weird.

Also she loves slurs. Despite how little dialogue she has, she says the R slur like 2 times? And also says this to Jade:

CC: PSH WE'LL SEE ABOUT THAT, MISS HORNLESS MCFINLESS.

where have we heard that term before... oh yeah!

ERIDAN: hey finless this doesnt concern those wwith mustard sludge slippin through their vveins

Because, like... being a princess rules. It's so fun, and great, and awesome, and Feferi has such a great time, so who cares if casteism still exists, right? Because Feferi's having a good time with it! We just need to PAMPER those cute, helpless little lowbloods, instead of kill them! That's the ticket!

Witches change their world to suit their wishes, the core of their ability to "change" their Aspect. As the ruler of Beforus, Feferi created a world that suited her ideals exactly - the ultimate nanny state, the perfect realm... for Feferi! And for very few besides herself.

Obviously, if she's been set up as this casteist, then her full actualization and character development is about learning that casteism is Bad, and that a truly good society means giving up many of the privileges she's enjoyed, tying in with the Witch character arc of needing to learn to see beyond themselves and their own feelings about the world. Thus, I think it's very important that the hemocaste is tied directly to lifespan, and it's why the trolls kind of can't have a happy ending if Feferi doesn't survive to the end AND complete her character arc: as long as coolbloods live longer than warmbloods, casteism is an inevitable outcome, as coolbloods amass power with their vastly longer lives.

Witches manipulate their Aspect, changing it directly. A Witch of Life, with its control over not just life and healing, but over biological and genetic properties (as it's implied the Condy's genetic experiments resulting in her ability to use every caste's psionics is an expression of her Thief of Life abilities) is pretty much the ideal classpect for equalizing troll lifespans and psionic abilities - in fact, given that it's implied that Feferi can't revive people like Jane can, it's very likely that Jane can't equalize lifespans like Feferi can.

But doing so would mean renouncing the very concept of a throne, of the society she wanted to build, and the privileges of royalty she's enjoyed so greatly. And that's beautiful. And also why she should hate date Nepeta, the anti-casteism troll -

[brianakane]

I'm so sorry but I am a Sel apologist until the day I die

[splickedylit]

Anonymous asked: bill cipher

Ahh, the triangle of the hour! Experiencing a real renaissance on the old hellsite at the moment lmao. Here's this asshole! He can switch his eye and mouth interchangably but tends not to because for SOME reason humans find it "unnerving", "nauseating", "freakish" and "disgusting" 🙄

[kingofanemptyworld]

hey you know what would be fun? a fic where the Royal Guard follows through with their plans to make Ichigo the new Soul King and Grimmjow promptly loses his shit because what the actual fuck Ichigo has already given these people literally everything, twice, and this is how they repay him? recruits Nel and Harribel and Urahara and Yoruichi (after Nel sits on him for a while because Jesus Christ Grimmjow you can’t storm Soul Society by yourself no matter how much you’ve powered up) and it’s the Ryoka Invasion all over again except with pissed off arrancar instead. I just think it would be neat

[beanghostprincess]

I wanna know who your favorite vinsmoke sibling is so bad actually please tell me 👀✨

My friend and my brother laughed at me when I told them my favorite Vinsmoke is Niji, and I genuinely was embarrassed that day because I didn't really know much about him at the time (I think I had only watched a few eps of WCI) and it's pretty clear in the show that he's, uh, the worst of the Vinsmokes. And by "the worst" I mean: The one who's portrayed as the worst because he's the most active one when it comes to abuse and supremacism within the family line. Unlike Ichiji (who's more serious) and Yonji (who's more playful, somehow) Niji is the one who has to actually fight for a role in his family and that's why I think he's so fucking annoying all the damn time. I hate him. I love him. I want to hug him. But also I wouldn't mind punching him very, very hard. I have mixed feelings, but yeah, Niji is my favorite Vinsmoke. And you haven't asked why, but I feel the need to do some sort of mini argument about this because I am a very resentful person and I want to show my friend and my brother that Niji is actually a very interesting character!! And my fiancé thinks I just like him because he's hot, and she's right but only like a 20%. Maybe 40%.

I will try to put my thoughts into words, but it's pretty difficult because I have a lot of things to say about this blue evil gremlin.

I like Niji the most because I think he is, between the three brothers, the one who shows feelings and ambitions outside their emotionless selves the most. I know they technically are the same, but I don't think so (btw, please assume I'm not including Reiju in this text because she's canonically different from them and I'm just referring to the brothers).

As I mentioned before, I think Niji is the one brother who is the most annoying and evil because he feels the need to stand out. Ichiji is serious, and calculative and has a secure place in the family. He is the number one, even if Reiju is the oldest (I would like to talk more about how Reiju, being a woman, even if she's the oldest, she's the number 0. Because she is the oldest but she's a woman, so she obviously doesn't and would not be able to wear the number 1 like a man would. She is the oldest and yet, she has less significance in the family line than Ichiji. But, yeah, this is something that has nothing to do with Niji, sorry). Ichiji, like all of his siblings, wants recognition from his father, but he doesn't have to try as hard as the others to be impressive because he is, after all, the oldest. The typical "older sibling in an abusive household who has to deal with all the bullshit to protect their siblings"? That's something Reiju took over. That's Reiju's responsibility as the oldest and the woman. Ichiji literally doesn't have to do anything besides leading the team and being the evil, emotionless machine his father created. That does not mean that I don't think he could be able to develop more feelings, because I think he could and I love the concept of him being the first one to protest against Judge's behavior, but you get me. When you're the oldest brother with an even older sister, your responsibilities are pretty limited. So he doesn't have to be anything but there and himself.

Yonji, on the other hand... He is the youngest. Even younger than Sanji. He doesn't have to try, because Niji and Sanji should be the ones to do so. Little siblings are not expected to do much besides existing because irl parents are usually tired of raising children and they end up either getting neglected or seen as decoration. As a little sibling myself I can confirm that these things affect really badly to your brain growing up, but I got a more Sanji treatment so I can't speak for Yonji here. The thing I can say, though, is that in comparison to Niji, Yonji is just there. He's silly and goofy. He's funny. He's dumb. He has the excuse of being the little one to act that way. Getting lost eating or doing whatever. Even the fact that his powers are more physically focused instead of power/intelligence centered shows that he can just punch away his issues. He's the gym bro of the siblings. Don't expect much from him. <- Thing that's often said about little siblings, btw, and affects real fucking badly in early teenage years. The fact that he's portrayed like that is so on point tbh but after all, they don't have high expectations for him, so little to no effort is everything he does.

Then there's Niji, of course. My favorite. Love him. Hate him. Whatever. Niji is the middle child. And God, do I have to say things about middle siblings.

The thing about Niji is that he actually has to try and make a name for himself in the family because otherwise he'll probably get forgotten. I often wonder if he had that fear of becoming the next Sanji once he "died" (he's the only one genuinely asking if Sanji died on them before Yonji and Ichiji say they don't care) because his role is not as noticeable as the others. Reiju is the woman, Ichiji is the successor, Sanji is the weakling getting bullied (being technically one of the little siblings but still being in a limbo of middle/youngest because the little one is Yonji), and Yonji is the little one. Then... What's Niji?

Niji needs Sanji way more than he's willing to admit, and I love that. I absolutely love how he's written because he constantly shows that he needs Sanji, through both words and actions. He needs him because without Sanji's existence -without Niji being his bully- Niji is nothing but number 2. And there's nothing more frustrating than being the number two when it comes to family hierarchy. Not going to mention every little thing he does, but as I said, I love how well-written he is. He's the sibling Oda uses the most to show the abuse Sanji went through, but that's only because Niji is the only one who needs to do that. Niji is the one to talk to Sanji first, all the damn time. He gets angry when Sanji doesn't respond. He gets angry because Sanji can't be bullied anymore. He gets angry out of fear, in my opinion, because if the weakling can't get abused anymore, then he's not worth anything. If Sanji isn't the third, the second one is left alone. 2 can't fight 1 because 1 has the protection of starting the line. And 2 can't fight 4 because there's a missing link that keeps 2 from 4. So Niji is mad at Sanji because Sanji isn't the same weak crybaby he used to be, and he can't use him anymore to be secure and safe.

That's fucking horrifying when it comes to family hierarchy.

I like Niji because, despite being an asshole, he has reasons to be like that. First of all, because his father literally made him this way. But also, the little feelings he has (selfish emotions, yes, evil. But they're feelings, anyway. Urges. He's supposed to be emotionless and yet he knows how Sanji feels enough to use that to his advantage) are used as a way to feel superior and safe because he feels inferior. I think he's the one showing more emotions out of the three, even if those emotions aren't healthy or good and it's just him being angry all the time. That means that if he has urges and needs like that, even if he doesn't fear his own death, he could end up developing more and more empathy. His type of empathy comes from a place of fear. He feels what Sanji feels. And it's not that he doesn't care (I mean, I am aware that he technically doesn't, but let me dream) but it's just convenient for him not to care and keep bullying him to secure his place in the family.

Also pointing out that I like Niji because, being the one who says he hates Sanji the most, he's the one to protect him with his own body when that scene of the siblings helping Sanji escape happens. The others only clear the way, Niji stays with him. There's a really cool post about this on Niji's tag somewhere!!! I personally think he does this because, as that post said: Niji keeps seeing Sanji as weak, instead of believing in him enough to just clear the way. He protects him because he thinks he can't protect himself. Because he's weak.

And yes, it might sound offensive and emotionless and it doesn't make Niji a better person. But it makes him an older brother. Believing in Sanji would be great, but thinking that he's weak and needs protection after years of projecting on him only shows that the weak one is Niji. That he wants and is willing to protect his brother, too. If he didn't care about his well-being he would've just cleared the way for him, not caring about what could've happened to Sanji. But he goes all the way to help him out and protect him longer than the others did. Idk. I find that a very beautiful way of ending their relationship.

All of this being said, I have to be honest with you: When I said I liked Niji for the first time I only did it because people around me kept saying he was the worst one and it bothered me because I found his design pretty fucking cool. And tbh when he started being an actual character? I loved him even more. Because during WCI he's a fucking asshole but the way he acts towards Sanji is wanting to get a response from him, and I just find that so curious and complex... Like, if he just wanted to be evil he'd be more the Doflamingo type. But Niji looks for a response in Sanji's eyes. He wants to feel powerful because he knows he isn't.

And also, well, he's very cute and I like his hair a lot and he makes me furious sometimes which is great because if a character doesn't make you want to punch him at one point, is he really a good character? Look at him! He deserves to get slapped in the face. But also, I would love to kiss him afterward. What's that Olivia Rodrigo lyric? Ah, yes: "I wanna break his heart, then be the one to stitch it up. Wanna kiss his face with an uppercut." That's how I feel about him.

I really hope it's obvious, with all of this, that "Succession" is one of my favorite TV Shows, because I could go on and on and on (and nobody would listen but idc) about how the Vinsmokes are just the Roy family. Both One Piece and Succession deal with family in which hierarchy is crucial in a very specific and accurate way. It makes me sick. I love it.

Anyway, have some pics of my blue idiot:

I want to hit him in the head with a baseball bat.

[loverboybrightsideghost]

one of my favorite clark headcanons that i have (that is completely unsupported by canon) is that he's transgender by kryptonian standards. martha and jon kent raised him as a boy and as he grew up he never had any reason to doubt it at all, he was like yeah i'm a boy, makes sense. and then he gets to the fortress of solitude for the first time and it turns out how Gender works on krypton was just Different enough that clark doesn't really fit the kryptonian standards of whatever he was supposed to be. bonus points because this makes him feel like even more of an outsider as a kryptonian, even if he's the last one left.

[spinnysocks]

kiburi x ushari but specifically doomed kiburi x ushari. more than anyone else in the army they believe with full sincerity that scar's plan HAS to work because they can't succeed without him