#but he's still got a bit of an attitude
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cc-kote · 1 year ago
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I've gotten some real fuckin sweet comments on my fics lately and it's rly helped get me back on track w cleaning up my rough drafts and I'm so super excited abt it. I spent all day bangin out the next chapter for The Unforgivable and holy shit man, I fucking love writing for Hux's snooty ass. He's so fuckin silly and snarky and coming up with dialogue for him has me grinning from ear to ear every time, I'm so happy to be working on this story again.
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fyllophobia · 25 days ago
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think fast! surprise trust fall
#ffxiv#emet selch#hythlodaeus#hythades#ff14#fanart#all the stuff they used to do as little girls they’d still do for old time’s sake#the stupider the better like even pre-transition they’d fuck around like middle school boys#childhood friends brah who knows what they got up to as kids#ESPECIALLY if emet who constantly gas a stick up his ass considers his youth misspent#ohhhhh im emet selch and grown up now i have a reputation to uphold for the sake of the star#enter: hythlodaeus and azem bringing out his peanut brain that’s still buried in there#like i have a lot in my drafts of them as kids in amaurot and let me tell u it’s kinda funny#like it;s the shit the kids get up to and get into trouble for#combine emet’s insane aptitude of magicks and livid girlchild temper#like UNCONTROLLABLE cranky girltemper#and hythlodaeus’ much more pronounced carefree ‘getting away with it attitude’#dangerous combo for hijinks man they’ve been friends a long time hythlodaeus has seen all of emet’s embarrassing moments#it’s so funny that hythlodaeus is like ‘oh u want to know how he became emet selch ok sit down honey i’ll tell u everything’#emet needs to shut him up before hythlodaeus reveals his lore entire timeline#i can imagine him pinching his lips shut and hythlodaeus is still going#muffled unintelligible still wildly gesticulating#they’re a walking bit and so slapstick together it’s funny how comfy they are even if they riff off each other#these bitches on some universe level soulmate shit my senses were tingling the moment shade hythlodaeus was like ‘oh yeah we were…. close’#gay gay homosexual gay#absolutely completely interwoven into each others’ lives its amazing#AND they’re trans
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petrow1tch · 3 months ago
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They weren't lying, this psychological recovery journey got hands
#3rd month of taking antidepressants and knowing that There Is something majorly fucked up within me#i feel like im becoming normal bit by bit but also now my other problems become my aparent to me#i started to notice i have this childlike simplistic attitude towards wonder and relationships but also at the same time i understand the#severity of troubles around me on the level of burned out adult#but also it takes me from a week to several years to realize what people meant#and yet sometimes i get everything clearly#there are still ways to go#i still have to find a therapist#cuz psych diagnosed me with BPD; geberal anxiety disorder and ADHD and said i have autism signs that could explain the development of BPD#but all he can do is medical treatment which is not the kind you need for BPD and autism#im not saying you can treat autism but yeah he meant i need a psychotherapist for these instead of psychiatrist#i hope i can complete this mental health journey bcuz i feel like i finally got hit with all the weight of burnout i had all these years#i did some creative work in the august/early september but rn its all touching grass in real world and playing games#like i cook i help my family with chores i play fortnite i clean up my room i go out at 1am to look at the stars#all of my own volition without feeling like i need to push myself to do this#I'm scared that making art is not one of those things#i often have a thought that maybe art isnt really for me and in a perfect world i wouldnt do it#but then why am i so good at it#like...#petrotalk
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mean-scarlet-deceiver · 26 days ago
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Lightshow snippet :)
I've been trying to write a "spiritual sequel" to Steam and Light for 3 years running. It was to feature BoCo (along with a foul-mouthed relief driver) running a couple of holiday specials in mid-December, appropriately decked out in lights... and trying all the while to feign seasonal cheer. Unfortunately the truth is that he regretted this job one second after he let his malewife talk him into it he agreed to it. The result was to be an offbeat little fic for those of us who have ever worked customer service during the holiday. <3
This is me throwing in the towel on this project - just can't quite get the plot to cook.
However, I hereby offer some snippets for anyone who wants one last scrap of under-the-wire Sodor Lightshow 2024 content.
I also wanted to debut my headcanon that Bill and Ben's drivers play Pokemon Go on the job
"Hold still, will ya? We only turned over your engine so we could see what they look like—it'll be a good half hour yet!"
"A half hour?" BoCo looked at the clock mounted at Wellsworth shed, as if somehow it could back him up. But the second hand just went round uselessly at its usual speed, and the workers kept on with their fussing.
"At least. Don't get your pistons in a twist, lad; there's plenty of time."
"And if you don't hold still," quipped another worker, "I'll break out your Santa hat, and you'll wear it till it's time for your train."
BoCo made a face. He thought it was very reasonable to be restless, seventy minutes into his fitting. As the minutes crept by, and the sting of being made sport of held over his headcode as a threat to ensure good behavior deepened, he began to feel slightly murderous.
He wondered if this was how it was for Gordon and James, every other day.
BoCo rolled towards the platform rather unwillingly. There was still plenty of time before they were due, and he always preferred to back onto his train at the last possible minute, when all was just about ready and the passengers were too preoccupied with boarding to bother much about him. But his driver only snorted that shed staff had not gone to all the trouble of decking him out only for them to hide away from the public, so straight to the platform BoCo went.
"Blimey," cried a half-grown boy's cracking voice, anonymous in the throng. "They sent us the diesel, this time!"
"Ooh, gilt and flaaash," said another, with exaggerated awe.
"Sparkly!"
"I think you're a little confused, Diesel," laughed another, "you got all dressed up, but the girls' school is down in Suddery, innit?"
That was about all the reaction he got. The general laughing and shouting afterwards really all had to do with the students' own affairs, but BoCo did not know this and he felt his face start to harden into a grimace—which wasn't very professional, on a passenger service. To soothe his feelings to something more neutral, he gave a brief growl of his engine. "Is anyone here a diesel," he muttered to his driver, all irony, "and hasn't said anything yet?"
"Take it easy, lad," warned his driver. "No need to get your pistons in a twist."
BoCo glared. The smoking boy was too bold to do anything but smile back, although most of his companions started to giggle and shuffle nervously under the weight of a rumbling diesel locomotive's frown.
But not all of them. "C'mon, don't tell tales."
"Yeah, Diesel. Be a mate."
"Relax... have a puff." The tallest boy, taking the funny little whatever from his friend, made a gesture of offer.
This set off a new round of sniggers, and the engine had had enough. Not breaking eye contact, he gave a honk on his horn. 
"PORTER!" he bellowed, making everyone on the platform jump. Save for the insouciant youthful delinquents before him, who only pulled lazy faces of disgust. "If you would help these boys find their way out of the rain, and into a carriage!"
There was a collective groan and "awwww" from the boys. They began to shuffle, as if heading down the platform of their own accord. But they were such lallygags about it that, for all their amorphous shuffling, they hadn't really made an inch of progress before a porter and a schoolmaster came into BoCo's view, chivvying the boys along.
"Rat-sneak," one of them muttered out the corner of his mouth, as they passed level with the engine's bufferbeam.
"Rustbucket," hissed another.
"About as fun as old Eddie, this one..."
BoCo revved his engine, and finally got a jump out of them.
Though even then they laughed as soon as they were out of sight, unrepentant.
BoCo pressed his eyes and lips tightly shut for a moment. He then largely ignored the scolding of his driver, who had run out in alarm at the racket, and who was now grumbling that a body was expected to man a diesel-electric all on her own these days, even though you couldn't trust any engine alone for a moment.
In turn, BoCo growled protest about the blamelessness of his conduct and, especially, the insults he'd been subjected to—as a rule he wasn't a fussy sort of engine, but no locomotive busts their axles day in and day out only to take being called a rustbucket without a murmur. His driver was not oversympathetic. "Abbey boys are snotrags?" She snorted. "I'll alert the press."
People milling about at the fence grumbled among themselves, and a few even called out angrily to the porter as he made his way back into the station house. “Come on, mate! We’re all freezing our—” The cross passenger looked over at BoCo, and reconsidered. For some reason Sudrians were rather particular about their language around locomotives. “—wheels off.” 
The porter ignored the yells. 
The coaches, playing telephone, relayed up to BoCo (and down to the other end of the train) that the child was “overstimulated,” and Stationmaster had given them permission to board early so that the mother might be able to calm the girl and perhaps get her to nap quietly before the rest of the throng boarded, in hopes of avoiding a screaming meltdown. 
BoCo thought this perfectly sensible, and not much cause for the drama of the other waiting passengers. He explained as much to his driver. 
“They all turn into hags, this time of year.” He could feel the driver giving them a dark sideways glare. “Reckon I ought to stay with you this time, and protect you?” 
“My knight in shining armor,” BoCo said drily, making her cackle with a trace of real appreciation.  More passengers trickled into the station, waiting impatiently for the porters to allow them to start boarding. BoCo eyed the clouds and the clock. The former loomed but continued their progress south-east. He reckoned if they started on time they were likely to miss the rain. He’d be just as glad, to catch one break today.
“Was the day so bad as that?” [Edward] asked at last. 
BoCo’s mouth quirked briefly, albeit he’d expected this. “I’ve had worse. But I don’t know how you stand these things. The Middle Station was awful!” 
“Ah, well. Public school boys can be a little obstreperous, I suppose.” 
“Ob,” said BoCo, stunned. “Obstreperous?” 
“Some of them. Some of them are nice lads, though! Did you talk with Robert and Declan?” 
Aha. “You put them up to that?” BoCo asked slowly. 
“Well! I told them, when I dropped them off beginning of term, to expect you might come to take them away. They promised to say hullo. They did, did they?” 
BoCo smiled weariness. He wasn’t surprised, really. “They’re nice kids,” he allowed. “But I’ve no platform manner, Edward. We all know this.”
“It takes practice.” 
“This is my sixty-fourth year of service!” 
Edward winced. “That can’t possibly be true,” he said, somewhere between wistful and dazed. BoCo raised his eyebrows. “But yes, I suppose I deserved that. Still, it’s not about you succeeding or failing. I knew the passengers were safe with you, and that’s all that matters.” 
“I think Bobby and Declan, or whoever, might disagree.” 
“Robert. He hates being called Bobby.” 
“We... didn’t get that far.”
"Ooh! Ooh! It's true!"
"Give us a blink then, BoBoBoCo!"
BoCo smiled. Zippy and troublesome though they might be, the twins were also inextricably tied up for him in the ideas of home and family and he couldn't be cross to see them…
... saving, of course, occasions where they came into view recklessly pushing around trucks with explosives. 
Or messing with his brake tender.
Or covered in petrol because they had "wanted a taste." (He never had pinned down exactly the sequence of events, there…) 
Right, so maybe there were plenty of times he might be cross to see them. 
A little cheeking off, however, never hurt. Not from these two.
And so, he obligingly flicked the lights off and on again.
"Oooooh," the twins chorused, very still and wide-eyed... for at least a whole two seconds.
Ben whistled.
"You can't operate your own lights," Bill teased Edward.
"No," Edward agreed. "I have to rely on the coaches for that!"
"Do it again, BoBoBoCo!" urged Bill.
"I will not," BoCo smiled. "I mustn't risk damaging them. And what's with the new name? It won't do, you know—I don't have that many wheels!"
"Oh, still the same number of bogies?" asked Bill idly.
"We thought you might have evolved by now," giggled Ben.
BoCo glanced at Edward, who mouthed Don't ask.
The pain appeared to have knocked out [the auto-ballaster] during the wait, which was all the better for her. BoCo felt an orderly's regret when he had finished clearing away the other containers. When it was time to approach the derailed ballaster, the loud grinding of the P-Way crane vibrated the rails - and at least two of her wheels were still touching the track.
She came to with a moan, cross-eyed at first, from her awkward angle. It took her several long moments to blink herself awake and as she was doing so all she could see, amid the darkness, was a looming, growling figure, some shape she had never seen the like of, made up of nothing but blinking flashes of red.
"Uhhnnnnmm," she groaned, in hazy, blinded wonderment. "I'm in hell..."
"No. Barrow."
This time she groaned twice as loudly. "Worse and worse! I don't deserve this, I don't... I wasn't that bad..."
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thedrotter · 6 months ago
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(cw for a gun, mild blood and suicide in the last drawing.)
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Day 1-5 of drawing Re:Kinder daily for a whole month! I'll be doing that all month. ☺️
I did not draw Re:Kinder enough (said both sarcastically and genuinely, because while I know the statement is ridiculous I also do believe it www), so I chose to challenge myself. I will post these every 5 days to not clog the tag too much.
#re:kinder#rekinder#fanart#hiroto yamakawa#rei suzumura#aya hibino#sayaka akatsuki#ryou shimoya#takumi katsuragi#shunsuke takano#yuuichi mizuoka#AND CHIE!!!!!! :3333#now... commentary...#for the first one i tried doing the proportions a bit more realistic than the chibi like ones i usually do !#although it comes with the worry they may seem like teens in contrast of how i generally draw them^^;... i hope they still look their age😢#second drawing is based on an idea from my sister that hiroto’s more responsible attitude comes from taking charge more than he should-#-due to his parents both being depressed. so i tried to express that idea somewhat... its more speculation than anything but still#third one is HORROR MOVIE TIME!!! this one was very funny to me because i dunno whos house theyre in but ryou looks right at home www#certainly not takumi's because that breaks the law children have of “its MY house so if i dont want to watch this movie we wont watch it”#fourth is SHUNSUKE VS THE SCHOOL TESTS!! based on him throwing out his school tests on the trash as mentioned once ingame.#in case it isnt clear the 12 is a 12 out of 100... im afraid i dont know how to make it clearer😓.#chie originally wasnt meant to be there but the compositions i came up with felt boring otherwise. so she was brought in to fill in the voi#final drawing is here to remind you this is a horror game about mentally ill children i am so sorry#im aware it is a bit jarring compared to all the (mostly) fluff but the rng said it was a yuu day he doesnt get any fluff#ah yes sorry spoilers he wont be getting any fluff there will not be a single drawing where he feels joy😭 i am sorry for this#this is because the ideas i never really got to draw (that are here) of him are the sad ones because i feel such a pity drawing him that wa#but i had to get to them eventually because i did want to draw it anyway but i was going to keep stalling them if i didnt do em here#so sorry no happy yuu the whole month😢#anyway i may redraw one of these later down the line (when its no longer august).#i do these with time limitations so i dont get to push them to bigger steps but if i feel one should get one i may redraw it LATERRR
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goldentigerfestival · 8 months ago
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Since I'd been talking a lot about JP Vesperia (primarily Yuri and Flynn and the heavy changes that surround them, and because I'm highly passionate about them in their original context), I wanted to compile some more jarring if not outright glaring mistakes in the localization (or what were likely intentional changes, because I can't look at some of these and just call them "mistakes"). I'm not going to mention every little change throughout the game, so smaller things I'll mostly be leaving out (namely things that don't really affect characters or context). I primarily just wanted to give some insight on some of the bigger parts.
Some of the changes seem to have been mistakes in translation itself (not just localization, but misunderstanding what was being said in general; such as, there's an instance I mention of that between Patty and Don), so I've got some mentions hanging around for clarity purposes as some scenes didn't make much sense, likely because of this.
Vocal tone with Yuri was the most prominent issue that got me making this, and the context that was changed being right after if not equally next to that (most often also with Yuri but also Flynn).
This is something that has been bothering me for a while and I've been wanting to share this stuff with people interested in seeing the game with its original context. Generally speaking, the plot and story themselves are on point. The majority of the differences surround Yuri and Flynn respectively, so there's going to be a lot of mention of them throughout.
I've also posted video clips of my favorite scenes and the heavy changes, so consider those a supplement to this and vice versa.
Part 2.
Part 3.
Part 4.
(Other) GTF Favorites.
I'd like to preface this by mentioning the chief director and producer of the game itself has also spoken about localization inaccuracy issues, so that's something to keep in mind (it's in Japanese, but you should be able to use the offered post translator).
I'd also like to preface this by mentioning that in the original, Yuri is more playful and relaxed/casual (generally but including with Flynn, which the dub pretty much entirely changed until arc 3), but also gentler and softer. He has a very large variety of tonal behaviors/tonal "moods" that were pretty much nuked from the dub.
Basically, to get the full experience for Yuri, I can only really recommend playing the game in JP audio. Obviously you won't get the actual context because all you'll have is the dub context, but that's also partly why I'm making these posts - to cover the contextual changes while the video clips cover some of the tonal changes (because lbh I don't expect anyone to actually go watch the entire game in JP with subtitles unless you're as insanely dedicated as I am, and I'm largely doing it out of my love for the original Yuri and Flynn and my disdain for how the localization treated them).
As a heads up, there won't be many skits in here because I'm going through a specific YT playthrough for these screenshots. Specific skits won't always come up in the playthrough in question, and I can't find a whole list of skits in JP anywhere online. I don't have all skits unlocked in my own save either yet (you can unlock all skits with Grade which I have yet to do in the DE), so I can't use that to compare all skits right now.
There are plenty of small changes here and there that I won't be including in these posts because there are some sentence changes that aren't impactful but do exist. I just don't want to be here for a year covering the random changes that don't matter much. I'm also not going to include details of a lot of honorifics because I'd be here all day, but there is one one major instance that I mention later on.
For reference if anything wants to actually watch the game in JP with the subs (it goes until just after Hypionia), most of the references come from here. Since in some cases the subber just reused localized text even when the context wasn't the same, I did bring some of those up in these posts too. These were subbed before the DE version came out. I used screenshots with subs where possible to make it easier to follow along.
I have a lot of passion for JP Yuri and I hope I can pass on some of that passion to others. 🙏
Apologies in advance if some of these sound cranky. If I sound cranky about some specific changes, it's probably because I am.
---
Since I talked about the whole, Raven being shady and Yuri therefore not being grateful to him incident that the localization for some reason butchered and made Yuri sound like a generally ungrateful or just outright dumb person who doesn't understand gratitude, I'll summarize that one again here:
Yuri has a skit with Estelle originally talking about how he can't find himself being grateful to someone like Raven for showing him how to sneak out of the castle. Basically, Raven is shady and he's not sure he should be grateful to someone like that, and is confused as to why Estelle would be so grateful when she doesn't even know him (because in his mind, he isn't sure he wants to trust a guy with those vibes). The dub just kinda... makes him sound like an ungrateful jerk and not so much because he's not sure he wants to trust Raven. It doesn't really sound like it's an issue of his with Raven specifically but more that he just generally doesn't feel grateful for the aid (and that in general one shouldn't feel grateful for aid like this), which gives off a really wrong impression of him that doesn't hold up throughout the game. Yuri wasn't wholly ungrateful for the gesture itself, but because of who it came from (and I imagine a weird peppy guy in jail is good cause to be skeptical).
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We start off we a classic "Yuri, you idiot!" that was changed to "come on already!".
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Yuri's response to Estelle mentioning he'd been in the knights doesn't actually give a time frame for how long he'd been there (the dub made up three months, but there was never originally even a time frame given).
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Here when Yuri asks Estelle why she can't just leave, her response indicates she actually does know why. The dub made it more ambiguous, which could be easily misinterpreted as she really doesn't know, so I'm dropping this one here.
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For some reason the localization seemed to have Estelle responding to Karol directly about the ace always performing their attack last ("I don't think so"). What she was referring to was the tiny monster that walked by, asking for confirmation that that monster was not the eggbear they were looking for (I wasn't gonna fight with the video to get a better screenshot without the annoying YT red bar in the way so the monster is in the corner mid-movement lol). Not sure if that was a genuine mistake, but it was an odd one.
(Also, side note and not putting an image here because it's more general, but Yuri refers to Karol as "Karol-sensei" which was translated in the localization to "Captain Karol". Basically, Yuri calls him "sensei" because that's a teacher/professor, and he's making a play on Karol's knowledge and being their "teacher" about monsters/maps/etc.)
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I'd say this is more along the lines of overexaggerating and not overreacting, but this line was literally changed to "haha" in the dub. The whole point wasn't that Yuri just brushed her comment off or found it funny. At this point he still literally thinks she's exaggerating about her lack of knowledge out in the world, her excitement, etc.
Not the only instance you'll find of the dub just changing entire sentences to something meaningless as if they ??? didn't know what it meant (they actually changed Patty saying an entire sentence to "aye"). In some cases they added entire sentences that weren't even there...
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Even though I can kind of see where they went with the dub here, the point was supposed to be that Flynn actively thought he would be happy for Yuri to go outside the barrier and see the world.
The dub changed this to Flynn saying that he, in the now, is happy that Yuri is outside the barrier, but then says he got a little less happy when he saw the wanted poster, indicating he was previously happy but got less happy, yet says in that moment that he is happy.
It's a weird case of (past/present) tense usage for the most part, but they also removed the fact that Flynn is literally saying "I thought I would be happy" (thus expressing he'd been wanting Yuri to see the world outside the barrier and would've been happy to find out he did). The reason he's not finding himself happy is because of the wanted poster and the crimes listed on it, following up that his honest happiness for Yuri (ultimately because of the poster) was a lie.
This also means they removed Flynn expressing the honesty of his happiness for a positive concept for Yuri, which, given all the changes toward Flynn in the dub, already now takes away from the fact that he'd been actively hoping for good things for someone and we're left with this more sarcastic take on him being "happy".
Obviously his happiness wasn't really a lie because most of the crimes were falsified (primarily the ones that would make him actually mad, because Flynn has had to have been aware this whole time that Yuri has committed small time crimes for the past few years now), but at the time, the focus on this conversation is that Flynn thought he'd be happy at a time that Yuri left the barrier; meaning he'd been hoping for it prior to it happening.
I'm also mentioning it because it's the very first in a whole line of changes the dub made to their relationship (and it's their first in game interaction ffs) and to Flynn himself as he's perceived as a character. The original is much more expressive of how important they are to each other in a lot of various ways.
Inserting the JP audio version of the following scene with Flynn here.
And... the following one from there.
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This was changed to "damn, we if lose our balance...". I know they did it because Yuri had just fallen over, but I'm including this one because the context isn't... really the same thing?
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This dub change is a bit odd to me. They had him saying something along the lines of "she is a princess after all" in the dub, regarding the council backing her.
The original context is more like, the council is backing her and he's hearing it directly from Ioder and he probably doubts Ioder would lie like that or about that, cementing that yes, she truly is, like he suspected, a princess, but it's almost still a bit odd to know. It's sort of like, he knew/had suspicions but hearing it directly from Ioder just confirms it for certain.
The dub just made it sound like well yeah, it's obvious they'd want to back her, she's a princess... but Ioder is a prince, so that doesn't explain why they're not backing him. She is a princess after all, so of course they'd back her... but what's stopping them from backing the prince?
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Another weird one for me. In the dub Yuri says that "even the Commandant was a little in over his head", when he actually... really wasn't? All he did was step in. Things got bad enough that he had to, but he wasn't in over his head. Not sure how or why the dub ended up with that.
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An example of the dub having a habit of just adding in random lines that didn't actually exist (and in this case the one added didn't even contextually make sense. This was no thank you from him, this was literally him making Yuri do something for him because he was going to ask Flynn for a favor and ended up with Yuri in the cell instead).
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Another super weird one in the dub. They had Yuri saying Flynn was "too" late, implying he hadn't made it in time, but he did. He made it just before the battle started, but the original context only says he's late, not too late (which makes sense given that they were ready to fight but hadn't started yet).
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This was changed to Yuri just mentioning there was one way they could get out of there without actually saying what it was, and Judith saying if he thinks it might work what's the harm in trying it out. Not sure why they changed Yuri literally telling her his plan, so... again, a super weird change that I don't get why they didn't just keep the context the way it was.
Third image was changed to "someone get me away from this psycho", which... I also don't get why they put that there unless they just wanted so much flavor text that they wanted to change the whole "they're in a fight and he's telling her not to come over here because he's pissed at her because they're fighting" part of the fake fight they had going on.
Not one I have a huge problem with, but definitely good examples of them going out of their way to change just... perfectly normal stuff that literally has no reason to be changed? Some of it is flavor text and some of it feels over the top for me. Stuff that makes me like... why would you change that when there was no reason to? Could be more of a personal pet peeve of mine, but I just don't like unnecessary changes when there was nothing wrong or odd about the original text and doesn't at all come off odd in English. Unfortunately Vesperia got littered with those.
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I didn't feel like getting a whole video for this, but basically Judith gives a little laugh instead of just the more upset/distressed(?) sound she made in the dub. Feels more fitting imo to keep up the "lie" Yuri started for her. The dub makes it seem more like she feels guilty, versus here she's giving a little forced giggle to go along with it. Again, a change I'm not sure why they put in.
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Ngl I get completely different vibes from these. The JP comes across more as concern, rather than... treating them like they're some mob on the loose...?
Once again, this gives off negative vibes toward Flynn as a character imo.
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Here Judith gives more of a reason for coming with them, which they changed in the dub to "with the circumstances being what they are, this is just how things turned out". Reasonably, she didn't have to stick around after they ran from Dahngrest, but here she gives a quick "reason".
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The dub changed this to "I'll bet he is". They were just told he's the current magistrate in Heliord, and all Yuri says here expresses he's letting it sink in and realizing exactly why all this is happening here. It's not a huge story beat or anything that gets changed, but it's an example of changing things that don't need to be changed as if trying to play things up in a way that... doesn't feel necessary to me? In this case the situation is kind of dawning on Yuri as he realizes how bad this situation could be/why it's like it is, but in the dub it comes across as more just unimpressed and "of course he'd do that".
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An unfortunate, classic moment of them changing how much Yuri believes in and trusts Flynn. They changed this to "gotta run, Flynn!" and he just... leaves. I'm sorry but in what universe does "leave the rest to you" equal "gotta run"???
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This one is one of those cases where the localization text was super awkward and wonky, and worse, they actually voiced it that way (like "we have guild's job to deal with". Yes, they actually voiced it that way too on top of everything else grammatically wonky with the entire conversation that they didn't bother fixing when the DE came out).
Also here, they changed what Yuri says about Cumore and Flynn. "I don't know how I could explain this to Flynn" doesn't, at least to me, carry the same weight as Yuri actually feeling ashamed (in the dub he says "what a shame", but does not express shame, versus him saying "how pathetic" and expressing shame in feeling pathetic) and saying he can't even face Flynn because Cumore got away. The thing is, Yuri does tend to posture, so when he fails at something, it hits him pretty hard.
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And let's be honest, this just hits way harder than "he will get what he deserves".
Interestingly, Yuri could also fall into the category of viewing himself as sinful later on, which I talk about in my favorites post and the usage of "crime" and "sin" within the JP context.
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Not particularly important, but just another (more mild) case and example of how the dub just randomly changed tone/mood/wording for no reason.
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Another case of Yuri being more aggressive in the dub than he actually was. Here, all he says is just a plain statement. In the dub, he has an attitude about it and says it in a tone that's more insulting that Ioder didn't know about Heracles.
This isn't the only case of dub Yuri acting aggressively toward Ioder when he wasn't supposed to be and we'll get to that, but Ioder is another similar case of the dub making Yuri unnecessarily vocally rude (despite that Ioder is very polite toward Yuri).
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(I left out the subtitles because all they did was copy the dub's localization, which kinda defeats the point of this post LOL. This will be the case going forward for any same circumstances.)
This one's a more interesting tidbit to me and less of a harmful change (i.e. I find that a lot of if not most changes relative to Flynn do more harm than good when compared with the original context). Basically it's saying "sweet mask and sharp eyes", implying Flynn's sweet face is a mask and saying it contrasts with his sharp eyes. I could get into a whole rant about why I love that in relation to some side material, but even in the game itself, there's the knight Flynn with his sweet, polite side and his real side that only shows when he's around Yuri (basically, who Flynn has to be for his job and who he actually is as a person, which he only gets to be around someone who knows the real him).
I'd guess this got changed in the dub because they weren't sure how to word it, though there's no mention of "heartthrob" here at all and instead actually says "sweet mask" as if, again, to say his sweetness is just a mask. It's actually a very interestingly accurate representation of his character - how he tends to not be himself when he's being "knight Flynn", and how that sweet face is contrasted by the look in his eyes (which they say, you know, eyes are the windows to the soul, so this would imply the sweet face is the mask and the eyes are the real Flynn. And of course, this Flynn is implied to show himself in his sparring with Yuri in Aurnion, where sword fighting is the best way to express himself. This isn't to say Flynn being a nice person in and of itself is a lie, but that his overly polite, respectful, kind knight side is a sweet mask contrasted to the man who loves to fight and has a sharp look in his eyes)
For now, we'll be back at Mantaic in the next post (due to image per post limit).
#Tales of Vesperia#GTF JP Vesperia Things#GTF Vesperia Localization Woes#really like... a lot of the time? the other characters weren't changed all that much#it's primarily Yuri who got this weird shift where they just... flattened his personality?#but some of the biggest offenders ended up being some of the most important scenes in the game which is what bothers me#and sometimes the localization is pretty much just... on point with the plot dialogue and other characters#yet for some reason they just... changed a lot of tone for Yuri?#it's just like... Yuri will have personality in his tone and they instead make dub Yuri speak it in a flat way in those moments#this did happen with the original dubbing quite a bit but it's also just SUPER noticeable with the new lines#my suggestion would be to at least play the game w/ JP dialogue and see how you feel coming out of it if you're a fan of Yuri and/or Flynn#and if you like it enough then I'd suggest watching the playthrough in JP that these screenshots came from if you're RLY dedicated lol#it's not JUST Yuri it's just /dominantly/ Yuri. other odd lines just didn't... go as hard?#like Raven and Karol especially go pretty hard on their lines in JP and the Schwann stuff with Karol was OOF#or if you'd rather just skip to watching it in JP I mean be my guest lol I just know some ppl might rather PLAY it#I just feel like... like... even tho not everything in the dub is horrendous... if you're a YURI fan?#it's hard to go back to the dub (impossible for me ngl) when you have this actual silly little guy#who is a lot more emotional and wholesome and Yuri isn't acting like he has a stick up his dubbed ass in some scenes#I still prefer the 360 version plot-wise for the most part and it's a mixed bag there a bit but#I can't get JP audio on the 360 so. it's the struggle ig.#in my case though it's this feeling of like... them wanting to create an image onto Yuri that wasn't supposed to be there?#obviously I don't know what went on in the loc room but I do know I walked out looking at dub Yuri like#him and the original Yuri aren't even the same. I get so frustrated with dub Yuri's unnecessary ATTITUDE sometimes#which wasn't ever a problem for me period in JP. he's emotional and sincere WAY more often#also lbh I cannot reasonably picture dub Yuri all dressed up and pretty the way he is in official artwork LOL#and that's the thing. I see them so differently it's like they're different people#I also just feel like the dub was like. he doesn't fit OUR vision for him. what WE want him to be like#and again I don't know what went on in that loc room but I DO know that's how I came out feeling from this game#anyway this is in hope more ppl will come to love JP Yuri's personality and stuff#but yeah more next time on ''why did you do this to my sweet baby boy''
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nerdyfangirlingbooks · 4 months ago
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I've had a stupid merlin au idea stuck in my head for days now and I know I'll never get around to writing it the way I want it written but I kinda wanna try anyway even though I am 100% of the target audience
#it's an f1 au btw#so I feel like a merlin x f1 crossovee is very niche#but I just have this idea in my head pf arthur as a driver and merlin as an aerodynamics engineer#and arthur starts off as an ass (as per usual) and thinks that he's god's gift to motorsports and all his good results are because of his#skill and bad results are because the engineers fucked up bad#and lowkey people don't like working with him BUT uther is giving red bull absolute mega bucks to keep him and he is actually a fantastic#driver in his own right. deep down he's not super satisfied though because people keep saying he's only winning because of his car#and his dad's money which is why he's a grumpy ass to most people and tries to claim good races as his and blame engineers for bad ones#also because uther probably taught him that attitude#in this au I think either Newey didn't exist but rb dominance still did or this is far enough after Newey that I haven't got arthur blaming#him for a bad car because y'all I can't do that it's too unrealistic no one would believe it#(yes I am aware that max and checo are currently complaining about a car newey made but shh)#anyway he secretly goes to sign for like. williams or something who currently suck so he can prove to himself and everyone else that he IS#a good driver and can drive a shit car well. he's admittedly doing fairly well in a tractor when merlin joins the team as the new head#of aerodynamics and arthur is giving him shit because he's so young and how could he possibly fix this shitbox#then Merlin's first big upgrade packages comes and makes a pretty big difference and arthur has to rethink a bit#the next season is the first car that merlin was actually mostly in charge of and it's a massive difference and suddenly it's competitive#meanwhile merlin's pov is that arthur sucks ass and he hates him but he keeps being told that arthur is his destiny#he refuses to believe this though and even though he has magic he point blank refuses to use it on anything that would help arthur even#somewhat indirectly like using it to help design the car. his official reasoning to people who know about his magic is that the fia wouldn't#allow it but personally he also just wants to say a fuck you to fate because he doesn't like arthur. but then they get to know each other#more and he realises that maybe arthur isn't that bad and they become friends like in the show#arthur is leading the championship (pendragon dominance could bore fans) but then he has a big crash and is out for a couple of races#by all accounts it's a miracle he's even alive (it's the only time merlin has used his magic for arthur). when he comes back he still has a#chance at wdc but it's way tighter than it was. maybe there's only a few races to go. he gets some podiums and his competition has some bad#luck (genuine not merlin) or something but then at like the second last race he can guarantee wdc if he wins regardless of where anyone else#places. he does it and merlin is the one to go on the podium with him on behalf of the team (maybe not for winning wdc but just his first#win after the crash idk) and it's this big emptional moment#also morgana was as good as arthur as kids but uther only supported arthur so now she works for sky or someone in a role like nico rosberg
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moe-broey · 2 years ago
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I gotta say I am FOREVER thankful and deeply honored that I have found this tiny corner of Tumblr dot com where everyone is insane about Alfonse Fire Emblem and also Sharena my friend Sharena bc. I'm usually not a stickler for reblog to like ratios, I don't mind and I understand, BUT PLEASE. IF YOU REBLOG MY ART PLEAS EPLESE PLEAAASEEE BE INSANE ABOUT IT 💔💔💔💔💔
(I DO wanna make it clear I'm not ragging on anyone LMFAO and I'm still really happy when people enjoy my work! But ESPP when it comes to me posting comics/concepts it IS an open invitation please be silly and/or unwell about characters with me 🥺)
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screampied · 23 days ago
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𝜗𝜚 P*$$Y FAIRY ?!
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☆ sum. when you said you wanted to ‘milk him’ for all that he’s worth, he didn’t think you meant actually! toji, nanami, sukuna, choso, geto, gojo.
warnings. fem! reader, unprotected, LOTSSS of cum and balls and more… cum, milkin’ them dry, cowboy! toji, camboy! choso, condom breaks, sukuna lactates, nipplę play, slight usage of "mommy", cowgirl / reverse, bręeding, overstim, whiny whipped men, pregnancy mentions, praise, implied multiple rounds.
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SUKUNA ★ RYOMEN.
“h- hah, got.. some nerve,” sukuna growls, a good portion of his face burning with crimsoned embarrassment. sukuna’s securely strapped to his throne—and to top it all off, you had him wrapped in pink ribbons. sukuna’s brawny frame underneath you grew stiff, and he let out a shallow groan once you lecherously wind your hips back ‘round in a circle. he felt sooo full - his base was just pleading to be dumped, dumped inside of you for the third time.
not only were you milking him - you were also milking his pride too.
“brat, you’re gettin’ off on this arentcha?” sukuna grumbles with a pout, hearing each popping plap slap from between your dripping wet thighs. from to the very plump bottom, his cock’s already still a bit foamy from earlier. you lean into his bare chest, smugly snickering against his neck. “mmm- ffuuuck, don’t . . don’t stop though. that’s an orde-”
and right as he’s grunting mid-sentence, sukuna pauses. carmine eyes flicker at a sudden head that’s leisurely lowering against his pecs. it’s you, and as you’re still bouncing on his lap, he feels your wet, hot tongue slide a path across his sensitive nipple. “ngh-” sukuna’s nostrils flare, and it’s taking almost everything within him to not whine.
until he does.
your hips roll roll roooolls around in swift, addictive circles as you cup your lips around his pec. “mmh,” you hummed, feeling his big body writhe underneath you as your hips slowed their tempo. you could hear his cute growls as he couldn’t do anything but sit right — the pink, pretty ribbons were straight-up mockery.
sukuna could have honestly just torn them apart - besides, they weren’t even properly tied around his limbs (which he secretly found cute) but he decided to play along with your little fantasy.
but just a few seconds passed and it happened.
you feel a treacly, sweet taste in your mouth— and it pours pour pours, tickling down on your tastebuds entirely. blinking rapidly, your hips pause before you swipe the pad of your thumb across your lips that are dripping with the creamy, white droplet.
“ ‘kuna, did you just . . lactate?”
“tch. die,” he mumbles, and his face looks so lewd.
sukuna’s pink brows were parted and his mouth was pried wide open. he’s panting - heaving, raspy breath after breath leaves from his drooling lips before his fangs get caught with his tongue.
“and don’t- don’t call it that, woman. just- keep going. ‘m close. soso fuckin’ close.”
gliding the tip of your balmy, tepid tongue over toward his other neglected nipple—sukuna shudders. you couldn’t lie, him being wrapped in nothing but pink ribbons like a present while sitting on his notorious throne was a sight you honestly wouldn’t mind getting used to.
“mmm, not with that attitude,” and he moans, feeling you starting to suck against his hardened pecs. “ask nicely,” and you give him a cheeky smile, reaching a hand down to stroke a few sloppy pumps against his cock. it was such a mess - streams ‘n streams of foamy slick everywhere, drizzling down between the cracks of your legs and sticking onto sukuna’s beefy toned thighs. “m’lord.”
“you’re tryin’ me. how dare you defy m- ngh- i’m sensitive.. thereee,” and sukuna shivers beneath you, feeling your tongue glide across his nipples for another time. even still, he’s leaking as you rode him, wrapping your arms around his thick neck. sukuna’s lids were getting heavy - drooping lowly as he hears the wet plaps of your pussy milking him dry.
he’s about to shoot blanks again, and sukuna’s mind actually turns blank once he feels the edges of your teeth nip against his pec. “mmngh-”
“mhm, c’mon ‘kuna. inside,” you whisper, both thighs sloppily sticking together like glue. your cunt’s just so eager, swallowing all of his barbaric hungry pumps until his tip swiiiipes its way near your throbbing clit thrice. spit dribbles from your lips as you speak and he watches, grunting each time his cock twitches inside of you.
you’re making sure to roll your hips - sway after sway, and right as you pinch his other leaking nipple you hear him whine.
sukuna prowls gruffly against your ear, wrapping strong, bulky arms around your waist as your body ruts into his.
his dick’s pouring yet another spumy load of cum and that’s when you started to come to a slow. he’s melting like putty - inside you especially, and sukuna starts to pant as he feels your tongue lick up the last bittersweet-tasting remnants that spill from his chest.
“ugh- such a nasty, ‘lil thing,” he holds the back of your head, darting half-lidded ruddy eyes at you. a thumb glissades over your wet lips and he groans as he sees you giving the tip of his tongue a playful nibble. “wipe that grin off your lips, girl.”
“or what? you gonna lactate again for me?” you tease, stilling your hips as his cock that’s now flaccidly soft, oozes its last final spurts of cum. right away, sukuna shoots you a glowering glare, but it’s more of a pout because he’s already missing your lips wrapped around his swollen, reddened nipples.
only you know his two weakness.
you, and his overly sensitive nipples.
“s- shut up,” he tsks, letting off a hoarse, raspy breath once peeks down and sees the buttery, white ring bubbling around his base. sukuna’s been entirely milked, and judging from him seeping his fangs lightly into your neck to suppress his faint whimpers, he only wanted more. “keep.. just keep . . doin’ that,” and sukuna swallows, gently tracing circles around your thighs with his whetted nails.
“keep suckin’ here,” he gingerly guides your head near the bottom of his pecs - it’s far redder now, glossed with dewdrops of your saliva while it’s still drizzling from the puffed centers. it wasn’t even like sukuna was telling you anymore, he was desperately asking.
“please..”
SUGURU ★ GETO.
“milk me, yeah?” geto raises a ravened brow, his voice almost taunting you. his tone - it’s always as smooth as silk, the type of tone to make your thighs squeeze together in anticipation. it had the perfect amount of rasp with a pinch of slyness too.
as you gave him a smug smile—he’s inhaling, preparing for a deep, heavy breath as he sees you sinking back down on his cock.
it’s pulsing, fluttering around your insides as it disappears between your dripping folds, earning a low scratchy hum from him. “do.. hhah- your worst then,” he raises his head, sweat already tearing from every corner of his sleek forehead.
and oh, you do.
one moment, you’re slamming up and down on his fat cock, the next—you’re riding him in reverse. but not only that. all because of the never-ending rolls of your frenetic hips, you milked geto for hours.
his muscles prominently bulged through all the weighty sides of his cock, and he’s sweating profusely, keeping hooded, darkened eyes fixated on you the entire time.
“ugh-” he’d groan, hiccuping at each popping squelch of your cunt. it sounds so pretty in a way.
between your legs - you were forever vocal, letting off occasional sloshing sounds as you slammed up and down against his cock. geto was just downright big ‘n thick, and every single time, he stretched your orifices open like it was nothing. you’re moaning with him, facing directly in front of him while wispy, hot breaths collide against both open mouths.
“ ‘m not sure if i have enough for you this time, princess,” he jibes, tears of sweat racing down the thin edges of his arched brows. “y- you milked me so good.. mmgh- this new stamina of yours though, ‘m lovin’ it.”
“sugu-” you moan against his mouth, bringing sultry kiss after kiss toward all corners and sides of his twitching, rose-colored lips. speaking of lips, they were dripping with strings of his spit, softly sucking against his quivering lower lip as your ass continued to sway around in a circle.
you’re riding him like you were riding a boat, rocking back and forth with your cunt nearly drowning him from how unapologetically wet you were. “ ‘m close, ‘m so close, suguru.” the frantic, unsteady beats of your heart were starting to pick up and it was so loud that it sounded nearly identical to broken, defeaning speakers.
the bed was much louder than you both, screaming out groans of mercy as its creaks nearly drowned out all lustful moans and grunts that sang through the fogged, steamy air..
“yeaah, yeah- gonna cum on me, pretty girl?” geto groans, cupping a hand around one of your bouncy breasts. you whimpered at his gentle touch, your thighs merely sticking against each other from the remnants of pasty cum. geto’s girth of his dick widely expands inside of your clamping walls, and he could feel your legs trying desperately to not squeeze shut.
leaning his head to level up with your chest— he slides his tongue across ‘n around your sensitive nipples - giving it a nice, proper lick. with a loud ‘pop’ that echo from his lips—geto’s half-open eyes look at you while he’s talking with his mouth stuffed full of one of your tits. “mngh- my horny messy girl wants me to get really fuckin’ milked, hm? ‘s that why she’s bein’ so greedy today?”
as he’s still filling you up with his veiny, big inches, you can feel your tongue starting to salivate from the inside with impatience. “ ‘m cummin’ - hahh, cum with me, sugu pleaseplease,” you’re whining, the curling of your thrusting hips accelerating faster.
your arduous speed had the bed groaning louder, and geto’s grunting in your ear once his base’s feeling fuller than ever. with hot pounds of skin against skin roughly slapping against each other after each second, the two of you felt the same pangs of pleasure and fervent dizziness. “inside, in-fuckin’-siiiide.”
“ay,” he pops his lips away from your tit before giving it its final loving suck, squeezing your cheeks together. “pretty girl, ‘m gonna getcha full again but you better watch that mouth,” geto eyes you, sneaking a wet, hot kiss against your trembling lips. your body’s just drenched with sweat, and his cock’s searching through your insides while locating all the exact spots perfectly.
clit - check! g-spot - check! a-spot - check!
geto’s swollen crown of his cock was wiiiide, and it made sure to give each erogenous spot inside of your pussy its deserved kisses.
big, grabby hands hold onto your jerking waist and he’s winding your hips against his lap while your mind’s turning into straight mush. it’s all thanks to geto bouncing you up ‘n down on his dick that you could barely think straight. the only thing that was thinking in your mind was that you wanted him to fill you up over and fuckin’ over . .
the incoming high was inevitable - heavenly even, and it’s like a rush that never stops overwhelming through your bloodstream. deeply, the sticky prints of his thumbs pierce into your flesh, and you could see his adam’s apple bobbing once he finally cums. at the same time, you finished too and the feeling was simply orgasmic - literally.
another load bubbles into your cunt as your rotating ass comes to a sudden freeze. shared, breathy breaths fall against each pair of lips as your forehead lies against his. “mngh- suguruuu,” you’d moan, shivering once you felt two of his fingers smack against your leaking pussy. you were filled to the very brim, and despite how he’s still inches deep, he wanted to fill you up just a bit more.
you had him primal now, and geto’s smearing his cum all over the opening of your stuffed cunt before stuffing it back inside. “more, d- don’t stop.”
“wasn’t.. going to,” geto grumbles, letting off a soft prowl once he feels the adhesive-like stick of your pussy keeps its hold on him. you’re addicting, and you’re moaning once he suddenly lifts you from his cream-leaking shaft.
with a spurting ‘pop’ sound, he lies you flat on your back, rubbing his achingly cherry-colored tip over your dripping slit. “fuuuck,” he licks his lips, admiring the filthy sight before gathering a wad of spit in his mouth before with a wet ‘ptou’, geto spits riiight on the outer part of your creamy pussy. “nasty ‘till the end, huh,” he clicks his tongue, inching his head down.
“sugu-”
“ah- not a word from you right now, gorgeous. she’s gotta get a few words in too, hm?” and you whined, hearing the brief ‘slap!’ of his palm make direct contact against your pussy. “now spread these pretty legs for me. ‘m kinda.. hah- starved.”
NANAMI ★ KENTO.
“oh, h- hoooney,” nanami hiccups, muscly soft arms wrapping around your rickety torso. he’s holding you close, giving you a secure bear hug as your cunt’s just wetly slapping up and down against his twitching cock. you’re so close up to his chest that you feel two things—nanami’s soft, rounded belly, and the dozens of scattered blond chest hair that painted the entirety of his abdomen like a canvas.
the two of you had been at it for hours, and he was practically sticking against your body. sheets and sheets of sweat glue against both rutted bodies as each of you continued to rock rock rock in unsteady sync. he’s been milked stupidly by you, and a viscous trail of cum continued to stick against your thighs as you moved.
“mng- ‘ken,” you’d breathe thickly, hearing each clashing slap! of your pretty hips slam against his thighs each second. his mind’s empty, tied in knots — and speaking of, nanami was preparing to surprise your stuffed pussy with another big knot of his own..
“t- that’s it, don’t stooop,” and as your voice shakes, you’re arching slightly once his tip massages a loooong pattern through your insides. you’re clamping down hard - swerving your hips around in random directions continuously while gripping his ruffled, checkered tie.
“fuck, f- fuuuck,” and nanami’s starting to trail slender, callused fingers toward the edges of your ass.
you’re bouncy - twisting all round ‘n round while focusing your weight on your knees. as you kept moving—you leaned in, shyly biting into his neck. “hah- kentoooo,” you whimper, cutely dragging out his name. his tip thrashing against your g-spot’s got you sounding more dramatic than usual. sneaking four torrid, wet kisses against his slick-spit lips. “c.. can you gimme one more?”
“at this rate, ‘m gonna get you pregnant again too,” he gutturally whispers in response, a hand gently pressing onto your tummy. nanami’s just inside you sooo deep — sooo nice ‘n snug that his thumb swirls across the very center of your stomach before feeling a familiar bulge.
browned, warm eyes look into your eyes before he sighs. “feel that, honey? that’s.. me,” he grunts, talking over your sweet, repetitive wantons of whines. as nanami grabs a nice handful of your ass with his free hand, he nibbles against your earlobe. “but- if my wife wants me to.. fill her up once more, i won’t mind.”
you gasped once nanami suddenly lifted you with care — careful not to hurt you, treating you like a porcelain doll. his roughly-textured hands place you on the flat of the mattress before he’s already aligning his cream-covered tip against your slobbering cunt.
“mhh- how many are we gonna try to make t- this time, sweetheart?” he stammers lowly, smacking his angry vermillion-colored crown against your pussy. he’s met with wet squelch sounds in response from below, and nanami licks his lips before delving his way back inside your compressing entrance. “o.. one? two.. threeee?”
with a pout, your legs were already violently shaking — struggling pathetically, hopelessly trying to stay open but to no avail.
once nanami’s making love to you again. he’s pinning both of your knees up to your chest. “just.. just don’t miss, ‘ken.” you whimper, your voice cracking with each bumpy syllable that slips from your lips. he’s puncturing you deeply with each thrust as if he had some kind of purpose.
deep, deep thrusts..
nanami’s using all vigor of hips - pounding into your precious pussy, dragging out moan after moan from your raw, straining larynx. it was starting to sound a bit hoarse—and each time you swallowed, nanami’s thrusts were more precise.
“b.. baby, you’re really.. hah- gonna.. milk me,” he groans, feeling the back of his thighs starting to gradually tighten. his face buries between your chest, lolling his tongue out before getting a subtle taste of your bouncy tits. “hngh- ‘m gonna get this pretty belly so round, gonna make you a pretty wife again and an even prettier mama.” and as he continues to speak, nanami’s feeling your nails pierce into the ridden flesh of his skin.
“f- fuuuck me, kento. pleasepleaseee, gimme another baby,” you’d whimper, your voice shifting from normal to shaky as his hips start to strike into your very core. he’s fucking you stupid, and he’s also getting dumb himself all thanks to your pussy taking the fatal, wet blows.
it was just something about your warmth. your cunt - it always hugged him, gifting him with a slick hotness he could never put into actual words..
you’re clinging onto nanami tightly - showing your body just how ‘bestial’ his hips could be as he continues to drill into your sobbing pussy. it’s so wet, and he hears it all too. the sweet ‘lil cries that were sounding more like pathetic squelches of mercy, and your chants of his name forming in inaudible babbles were just the icing on the cake.
“mngh- upsie-daisy, honey,” nanami groans, gently pushing your legs over your head. now, he’s got a straight view of your face that’s just covered with glistening sweat. the more nanami’s pupils dilate at the pure sight of you — his beloved wife, he sees how you’re just effortlessly kissed by the sun’s rays that shined near the bedroom window. pangs of pleasure coarse through your veins and his, and nanami’s just about at his very limit.
once he cums for the nth time - it’s even thicker than before. his rounded belly laid flat against your chest with his blond happy trail tickling against your tummy. you’re whimpering, covering his back with scratches before he pops a velvety, hot knot deep inside of your greedy cunt.
“mhm,” you’d coo out in satisfied surprise, hearing nanami’s breath hitch against the lobe of your ear. a lot of it dribbles out of you, pouring down to your hole and staining into the sage-colored bedsheets. nanami’s hips pause, and he’s just allowing you to milk him dry, filling you gallon after gallon with cum.
“a- again,” you’d mewl airily with a pouted puckered out lip, bringing a leg to wrap around his waist. nanami’s got a timid smile, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead. of course you wanted more.
nanami wriggles his hips ever so slightly, making sure he had all of his load stuffed inside of your dripping pussy before caressing your right cheek with his thumb lovingly.
“my, and i thought my breeding kink was bad during this time of year,” and as he’s still inside of you, you moaned, feeling nanami’s cock pop its way out between your puffy-drooled slit before sliding its way back in. those loud sloshing sounds of your slippery pussy was so carnal - and he could just listen to it all day.
you couldn’t help but gasp again, feeling nanami lift your legs behind your head before giving you a long, fervent-tasting kiss. “but fine, one - hah, more.. load for the pretty wife comin’ right up..”
SATORU ★ GOJO.
“h- hoooly.. fuckin’ shiiiit, baby,” satoru hisses, drawing in drafty breath after breath as he watches the fat of your ass slam back against his sticky, meaty thighs for the zillionth time.
constantly, you’re placing all your weight down into your knees as your hips rocked and rocked. satoru leans back, holding back sultry-sounding moans as his leaking tip sloppily swipes a wet stripe up ‘n down the opening hood of your clit.
he’s in so deep, and he’s still trying to get over his most recent release. “look at her - so fuckin’ sloppy,” satoru puckers his lips, letting off a teasing low ‘ooooh’ once he ogles down at the translucently white ring that wraps around his cock. it coats all nth-inches of his shaft as he’s still weakly thrusting his hips up against your pussy that’s thrusting riiiight back down.
he hears the rubber streeetch at each pumping thrust and it’s just so loud. with a loud ‘snap!’ it ends up breaking mid-thrust.
polished, peach-colored lips of his tremble at the electrifying friction of striking skin and he grunts throatily once his cum-covered tip swerves its way past your clit be for jackhammering a single thrust near your g-spot. “mmngh- ‘toru, fuck,” you’d whine out a gargled sob, wobbling your lurching ass back into his bare lap. as you bring a hand toward the back of your rear, you spread the left cheek apart before arching a bit more forward. “s.. satoru- might..hhaah- as well.. take it off before you cum.”
it didn’t take much for him to realize the ‘it’ you wanted to be taken off — was the broken rubber. by now, it’s probably stuffed with satoru’s cum from previous rounds, but you only imagined how much better he’d feel raw..
“heeeh- and you call me the nasty one in the relationship,” he grunts, brushing a thumb down your dripping pussy. your rhythm was as slow as ever, and his sapphire-shaded irises just couldn’t depart from your body. not for a single second. you still had your panties on too—but the grey string was pulled to the side, all thanks to satoru.
you moaned at the touch of his wiry, padded thumb gliding a straight line down your sopping-wet pussy. with a single hand, satoru snatches the clear, sticky condom off his cock - hearing the subtle ‘riiiip’ noise occur from his current action.
“f.. fuuuck,” satoru groans, raising your hips for a second then removed the broken rubber. he’s damn close - soso close, and his jaw tightens. as it’s now removed from around the entirety of his length, it leaves a bit of printing ring around the lower part of his dick, and a prominent vein shoots its way up his skin once the cool air hits it. “baby- ‘m not gonna last long if ‘m gonna.. hah- finish inside you raw, y’know.”
with a roused hum leaving from your pursed lips, you give your ass a cute spank before wriggling your dripping cunt against satoru’s flushed, ruby tip. “good. finish inside, baby,” and satoru’s breath gets caught in his throat once he sees your fingers spreading the lower dripping lips of your pussy apart. “riiiight in here, fill me up, s- satoru.”
your filthy, needy words against his ear slid from your lips so smooth like honey. he just couldn’t keep his eyes off of you — more importantly, he couldn’t keep his eyes off your pretty, jostling ass. it’s almost taunting him with the way it moves ‘n wriggles around his pelvis in an alluring circle. “ffuck, baby. know t- that’s right, ride that fuckin’ dick- ngh-” and a whine rips straight from his throat once he sees you slooowly arching inward.
his tip wetly slides its way from between your sniveling cunt as you bent forward - letting him view the dried-up stringy strands of cum that were glued against your sprawled apart thighs.
“mhmm,” you bite back a moan through clenched teeth, wrapping a hand around his veiny cock. you align yourself back on his dick, and his veins immediately malfunction from the sheer hot rawness of your slick, weeping pussy. “pussy’s all yours ‘toru,” you hummed, hearing his gasping ‘oh shiiiit’ ‘s huff out from his lips once he’s bottoming out again.
“f- fuckin’ damn right she is,” he grumbles, reclining himself back, giving your left cheek a whacking spank. you’re moaning once your jolty hips start up again, riding him in reverse with your ass hitting back against his lap repeatedly. with how impactful you slammed back into his lap, each rigid bounce of your ass was just seismic - and satoru’s just … about … there.
he’s hearing ring after ring in his ears, and it’s got his empty mind going for a whirl. your pussy was just ruthless - almost unfair at how good you milked him each time. satoru’s ethereal icy-like pupils that were fully dilated mindlessly lulled to the back of his head. “god- ‘m gonna give you another,” he moans, hearing those same smack smack smacks of your cunt messily pounce back into his lap. the way you rode him in backward oh-so flawlessly, - it was just so… risqué.
the enticingly, saturated grip your pussy had on satoru’s cock was enough to make him drool. as skin continued to rude crudely clash into each other at full speed—creating a sharp unforgettable collision, and it was not long before satoru’s bursting blanks yet again.
this time though - actually inside you.
a looooong, raspy groan scratches from his throat but it’s sounding a bit more high-pitched if anything. he’s inside you raw - finishing inside you raw, and satoru’s gripping your ass with one hand while whining your name into your neck.
“mhm-hm, good girl, oh- s.. shiiit ‘s still comin’,” he breathes deeply, seconds after dumping a fresh buttery load of cum inside. as he’s spasming underneath you—his thighs felt glued to the mattress, and his knot floods into your cum-filled pussy. “damn.. she’s.. hah- more of a slut than you are, look at it spillin’ all out.. f- fuuck, baby-”
“don’t stop now, satoru,” you’d hold in between raucous breaths, still feeling his lustrously, syrupy cum trickling inside of you.
it shoots deep deep deep - pouring into your womb in thick, slimy molasses. satoru’s staring the entire time, bright-eyed ‘n bushy-tailed practically, melting at the way your cunt swallows all ribbons of his seed as if its thirst was finally quenched. well - almost.
“mng- one more, baby,” and he grunts, feeling your ass playfully rooooll into another circling toss. your pussy slaps back down against his cum-oozing tip before you hunch over his lap once again. “ ‘toruuu, one more.”
“my girl’s never satisfied, huh,” satoru dryly laughs, squinting to get a clear good look at your pussy that’s just overflowed with ropes and ropes of velvety, hot cum. for a split second - satoru pulls out, in awe at the sight of his cum streams out your slick orifices. it’s so creamy, and he moaned, still feeling the intensity of his body as his tip silently aching to give you another fill.
your back’s still prettily arched over to a certain degree—and you crane your neck slightly to give him a frisky simper as he continues to play between your thighs. “especially h.. her too,” and satoru’s thumb swipes up a few remains of his cum that wetly sobbed down the slot of your entrance. after a while, he’s even starting to hear his jagged breathing pick up before he aligns his florid-colored tip between your slit again.
as you’re holding in choked moans by biting the inside of your cheek, satoru sits up—making you lean allll the way forward until your cheek’s pressed into the cushioned pillow.
you’re not riding him anymore - instead, he wanted to see the pretty view from behind this time.
“hah- f- fine then,” and he’s grunting, poking his tip in ‘n out of your pearly, drooling pussy before slickly easing it into place. “gotta show this pussy wha- o- ooooh fuck, ‘m cummin’ a-again.”
CHOSO ★ KAMO.
“oh! my fans love you, baby, look.” choso timidly grins, holding in a guttural groan each time your ass steeply bounces right back into his lap.
the room was dim with hardly any light except for the exception of choso’s multi-colored monitor that flashed with pretty colors of LED lights. his stream mostly included the dedicated audience of his 6.9k viewers who usually spammed his chats with thousands upon thousands of lewd, unserious comments all at once.
it was mainly comments specifically saying how you’re just so pretty, how they wish they were you, and egging you on to make choso whine just a liiiitle bit more.
“h.. hi, chat,” you’d huff out in jagged breaths. all you took was a single side glance toward his set-up, but you were sure that thanks to his special guest - he was about to reach 7k viewers within no time.
choso liked including you in his streams—it’s usually not with you riding him, but you were more than willing to entertain his viewers for a little while. he was celebrating a milestone, and the best gift he could’ve ever got was you - you and your dangerous, rocking hips that he was forever obsessed with.
every few seconds, he’d hear that re-occurring ‘ping!’ notification whenever someone donated.
your ass moved like water — so perfect.
your body - it sensually rocked against choso’s lap as your feverishly wet lips pressed against the crook of his neck. “mhm- ‘y always make me feel s.. so good,” he shivers at your lukewarm touch, taking a few blurred peers at the gleamingly-bright screen that shined back into his face.
“hey- look at me,” you’d coo, pressing clammy hands at each side of his face. tousled, inky-shaded strands slit down the corners of his forehead before he meets your gaze. instantaneously, choso softens at your touch, letting off a sweet whine once your thumb rubs against the scarred bridge of his nose.
“they’re not riding you, i am, choso,” and right at that exact moment, your cunt lets out a sobbing wet squelch that makes all jolting limbs judder in an elated frenzy. “so let’s give ‘em a show, hm?”
“y- yes, mommy.” choso locks eyes with you, his pupils dilating and he’s hearing the booming loud sounds of his heart thump-thump-thumping straight out of his bare sweat-covered chest.
“mommy?” you tease at the sudden term.
“b.. baby, i mean.” he grunts, one of his hands fishing down toward the lower part of your jerking ass.
he’s so impatient - so eager to just give you another one of his loads. choso’s stream’s probably been running for about a good two and a half hours—and with the way you were riding him, he didn’t ever want you to stop.
your hips were gonna make choso fall in love all over again. embarrassingly enough, choso’s face heats up at his sudden slip up of calling you ‘mommy’ but he couldn’t lie, the moment he called you that, he felt the tip of his dick twitch in rousing thrill.
pound, after pound, after fuckin’ pound. .
by this point — you were the one fucking choso, and he didn’t even mind at all. he’s louder than you, his gruff whines and whimpers turned more melodic at each cute cracking strain. “pleaaase- please, fuck me, fuuuck me- milk me.” he starts to ramble, gasping once you lightly push him flat back against the pillow.
his fall from your playful shove was soft - not as soft as your insides though. your pussy’s just squeezing onto him, preparing to wring him dry like a wet, soggy towel.
choso’s tongue lolls out his mouth and he’s panting rapidly like a dog - moaning once you attack sloppy, unkempt kisses onto his bitten, raw lips.
they’re a hot pink, glossed with saliva and he’s even starting to drool from the very corners all because of your slippery, hot pussy trying to suffocate his cock with your gripping warmth. “hng- good boy, ‘cho. let your fans hear you,” you whisper, bringing your trail of kisses toward the lower part of his bottom lip. then, you reach toward his chin, giving the tubby part of skin a playful nibble. “cum again for me, choso. ‘s okay.”
the piles of donations continue - loudly pinging, and his chat’s just being flooded with even more thirsty, needy fans direly wishing they were in your place or hell - maybe even being in choso’s place instead. .
“ ‘m cumming- hold me, baby, ‘m fuckinnn’-” and he gets cut off, feeling the lower half of his body erupt into such final stages of utter rapture.
he’s so hot that it feels like an active volcano, and in reality—the magma is his cum—hotly spurting inside of you, bubbling in thick, frothy bubbles before oozing right back out. you’re both moaning in sync, and choso’s face is just shading into a ripe shade of vibrant red as he’s letting out such a large load.
he’s awkwardly clinging onto your hips the entire time as he holds you close, and he takes one single peek at his chat that’s still virtually cheering him on in the background.
‘choso my goat finally getting some pussy? 2025 is off to a great start!’
‘she is sooo hot.’
‘me when me when me when.’
even though the majority of them were clowning him like always - he grumps, shifting his focus back towards you as he’s still pumping in such viscid, milky ropes.
you’re slowing down finally, rolling your hips around before coming to a halt as you’re whimpering into his neck. choso’s got a sleazy grin - and oh, he was the literal epitome of pussy drunk. he’s filled you up so much that it got to his head, and his clingy hold against your ass never left.
in fact, he squeezes it tighter - giving it a soft spank before shyly burying his face in between your tits - his comfort place. “can we.. do that again?” he pouts, hissing once he feels the mere non-existent bouncing of your hips.
already - he’s missed it, but he was still giving you a fresh nice ‘n hot creampie so it’s not like choso was one to complain.
he’s bringing his thin-pressed lips up to yours before kissing you, whining impatiently against your mouth as you contemplated a reply. “i- i want you to milk me again-” and he reaches in, shutting his laptop.
“hhaah- with no one watching this time. just us. p.. please, mommy?”
TOJI ★ FUSHIGURO.
“f- fuck, didn’t know a pretty thing like you knew how to ride s- so fuh- fuuuck,” toji stammers over his words, getting rudely cut off by the clashing slams of your whetted, brutal hips.
toji slouches further back in his rocking chair before raising his pinched front cowboy hat. its jet-black — flawlessly matching his eyes, and a piece of straw stuck from between his scarred lips. tilting his hat downward, he gets a picture-perfect view of your pretty, perked ass riding him ‘round in reverse.
toji’s full weighted base was stacked - just pumped and stuffed with so many milky, dewy wads. it’s been rounds - and you’ve already milked him to the max. but you wanted to milk him again, and again, and again..
at first, toji thought you were interested in milking the actual cows in his feedlots - but oh, you wanted to milk him instead.
“mhm- what’s.. the matter, cowboy?” you breathe, bringing your hands to hold onto his knees for leverage. you heard the clanking loud clanks of toji’s cowboy boots occasionally slam into the dusted ground. your cunt’s just feral at this point, and he’s grunting hoarsely as he sees your body ride him better than you did of any of his horses. “too much stamina for you? maybe i should.. hah- slow down.”
“quiet, ‘lil girl,” he hisses at you, swatting a black-gloved hand at the rotating globe of your ass. with just a rippling smack, your skin instantly jiggles at the contact of his palm and it makes his dick twitch inside you. speaking of, his crowned tip - it’s an angry, carmine shade of red that’s akin to a pepper. the tight-fitted mahogany-colored chaps that toji wore were loosely pulled down, his jangling buckle barely hanging on to his slim waist. “don’t slow down. better ride me good, atta girlie— fuuckk.”
despite how toji was trying his hardest to keep up his prim façade - he knew, he was no match for your sweet, sweet cunt..
“mng- now now, darlin’ . . fuck,” he brings two thick fingers up toward the dip part of his hat as ravened skinny bangs nearly shield his emerald eyesight. your hips had more horsepower than anything, and he’s clenching his jaw at the same time as you’re clenching down on his throbbing cock.
toji felt soooo full, fuller than he’s ever been—and he’s hearing those slippery, sloppy sloshes sing away from your pussy like a lewd western tune of its own.
your ass was sharp and very, very precise. just one smack against his wet lap and toji’s losing all sorts of a train of thought. “good- good fuckin’ girl, put those h…hips-” he lowly purrs, pausing for a second to swallow. “put those hips ‘ta work for me. ride me then- make me proud, heh- cowgiiiirl.”
but once toji gets a wild wild wild taste of cloying overstim - it’s fuckin’ over.
your hips were disgusting - in every best way possible. it didn’t take long at all for his smug act to tear away though, and now, you had an utterly milked-out cowboy right underneath you.
he’s been ringed dry, and he’s probably pumped out such webby masses of cum inside of your pussy. you felt so stuffed, and toji’s barely able to keep up with your stamina. your constant bouncing had him dizzy - and you watched as his hat fell from the crown of his head, falling to the pile of hay that surrounded you both near the wooden century-old chair.
“hng- fuck,” he groans huskily, clicking his tongue at the sharp swats of your clapping ass. his turgid cock’s stretched inside you through ‘n though, and with a single, stretchy thrust - he’s french kissing his way near your convulsing g-spot. he hits that same spot thrice - not once, not two - but thrice, and he sees how your mind’s already starting to go blank just from your cute dumbfounded expression. “h.. heh, what’s the matter, darlin’? no more horsepo- ngh-”
as your ass kept up its crazed pace of slamming up ‘n down on his heavy shaft, you wrapped a hand around toji’s throat. the milked-out cowboy eyes you intently, feeling your soft hand slide around the fabric of his verdant-colored bandana. “less talking, more hahh- milkin’.” you moan, giving his neck a slight squeeze. toji lets out a moan - a slutty one at that, and you spot that glint in his eye.
he’s always been one for a challenge, especially a pretty ‘lil cowgirl who dared to compete with him in riding.
in the background - it’s just the faint sounds of bellowing moos and neighs from the animals nearby in the other stalls. as toji’s wholly milked out, his meaty thighs felt like they were permanently stuck against yours like velcro.
he’s at an utter loss of words—quietly groaning as your cunt swallows up every drop, greedily demanding more and more fills. “f- fuck, y’er quite the rider,” he breathes, burying the soles of his boots into the ground. “ugh- ‘m gonna c.. cum again, doll- shit.”
with your hips purposely stuttering over his lap, toji's head sexily tilts back to a certain degree. you gawk as his black lashes flutter - and he’s feeling each vigorous slam of your ass pound back into his naturally sculptured pelvis. toji’s groaning, running his gloved fingers up your waist, trying oh-so-hard to control the movement of your hips but failing miserably.
“inside again,” you moaned, rubbing your thumb near the lump that grew inside of his throat. toji’s mushroomy-flushed tip was just redly swollen, throbbing sporadically, and on the verge of being emptied once again, and if he wasn’t pussy-drunk then - he definitely was now.
“mngh- better h- hold on, m’lady,” toji grunts, gripping your ass firmly. he hears the latex of his gloves squeaaak against your jarring flesh, and he’s letting off continuous hoarse ‘phew’ ‘s as your sloppy cunt prepares to milk him again.
you’re rolling your waist ‘round in a whirring circle like it’s going for a spin, making sure to focus your weight in the centers of your knees. while the skin continues to pierce against skin in such a loud manner - your pussy’s just sobbing from each sloppy thrust.
toji heard it too - and his dicks’s almost sympathetic, gifting it a few syrupy ‘love taps’ with its tip as it concludes its final sloppy hits.
once toji cums - he cums hard.
he’s shooting yet another thick batch inside of you raw, feeling your quavery thighs clamp shut as he’s filling you to the utmost brim. it’s parchingly hot, and toji’s seed gradually travels its way deep into your womb. “hhah- atta girl, thereeee w- we go,” he groans, still having his fingers dug into the soft globes of your ass. you’re panting just as much as he was, and your mouth suddenly grows dry once toji’s cum starts to dribble out in cottony, satiny clumps.
for once - he’s speechless, and toji’s barely able to keep his eyes open. perhaps this time, he’s really milked out because his cock inside of you felt like it was floating. his tip’s still leaking from all reddened sides but in very small amounts, and he’s holding onto your waist with the piece of straw still sticking out from between his scarred lips. “ngh- maybe i was wrong about ‘cha, doll. you- you can ride damn good, that’s for sur-”
“i didn’t say stop, cowboy,” you bite the end of the wheat with your teeth, picking up his cowboy hat and placing it on top of your head. “c’mon, one more.. hah- riding session for the road, huh?”
with a sly, crooked smile, toji scoffs, beads of sweat streaming down all corners of his face. the overgrown bangs of hair that stuck against his forehead were all muggy from the various rounds that occurred - giving him a bit of a greasy look as his skin ricocheted against the sun’s bright rays.
“h.. heh,” and he gives your ass its final spank, the leather of his glove tickling against your flesh before he tilts his cowboy hat that remained tilted on your head. “yes ma’am.”
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acourtofquestions · 3 months ago
Text
Kingdom of Ash Chapter 57
Chapter Highlights (most of the chapter is the highlight lol)
An hour before dawn, the keep and two armies beyond it were stirring.
Rowan had barely slept, and instead lain awake beside Aelin, listening to her breathing.
That the rest of them slumbered soundly was testament to their exhaustion, though Lorcan had not found them again. Rowan was willing to bet it was by choice.
It was not fear or anticipation of battle that had kept Rowan up—no, he'd slept well enough during other wars. But rather the fact that his mind would not stop looping him from thought to thought to thought.
He'd seen the numbers camped outside.
Valg, human men loyal to Erawan, some fell beasts, yet nothing like the ilken or the
Wyrdhounds, or even the witches.
Aelin could wipe them away before the sun had fully risen. A few blasts of her power, and that army would be gone.
Yet she had not presented it as an option in their planning last night.
He'd seen the hope shining in the eyes of the people in the keep, the awe of the children as she'd passed. The Fire-Bringer, they'd whispered. Aelin of the Wildfire.
How soon would that awe and hope crumble today when not a spark of that fire was unleashed? How soon would the men's fear turn rank when the Queen of Terrasen did not wipe away Morath's legions?
He hadn't been able to ask her. Had told himself to, had roared at himself to ask these past few weeks, when even their training hadn't summoned an ember.
But he couldn't bring himself to demand why she wouldn't or couldn't use her power, why they had seen or felt nothing of it after those initial few days of freedom. Couldn't ask what Maeve and Cairn had done to possibly make her fear or hate her magic enough that she didn't touch it.
Worry and dread gnawing at him, Rowan slipped from the room, the din of preparations greeting him the moment he entered the hall. A heartbeat later, the door opened behind him, and steps fell into sync with his own, along with a familiar, wicked scent.
"They burned her."
Rowan glanced sidelong at Fenrys. "What?" But Fenrys nodded to a passing healer.
"Cairn—and Maeve, through her orders."
"Why are you telling me this?" Fenrys, blood oath or no, what he'd done for Aelin or no, was not privy to these matters. No, it was between him and his mate, and no one else.
Fenrys threw him a grin that didn't meet his eyes. "You were staring at her half the night. I could see it on your face. You're all thinking it—why doesn't she just burn the enemy to hell?" Rowan aimed for the washing station down the hall. A few soldiers and healers stood along the metal trough, scrubbing their faces to shake the sleep or nerves.
Fenrys said, "He put her in those metal gauntlets. And one time, he heated them over an open brazier. There…" He stumbled for words, and Rowan could barely breathe. "It took the healers two weeks to fix what he did to her hands and wrists. And when she woke up, there was nothing but healed skin. She couldn't tell what had been done and what was a nightmare." Rowan reached for one of the ewers that some of the children refilled every few moments and dumped it over his head. Icy water bit into his skin, drowning out the roaring in his ears.
"Cairn did many things like that." Fenrys took up a ewer himself, and splashed some into his hands before rubbing them over his face.
Rowan's hands shook as he watched the water funnel toward the basin set beneath the trough.
"Your claiming marks, though." Fenrys wiped his face again. "No matter what they did to her, they remained. Longer than any other scar, they stayed."
Yet her neck had been smooth when he'd found her.
Reading that thought, Fenrys said, "The last time they healed her, right before she escaped. That's when they vanished. When Maeve told her that you had gone to Terrasen."
The words hit like a blow. When she had lost hope that he was coming for her. Even the greatest healers in the world hadn't been able to take that from her until then.
Rowan wiped his face on the arm of his jacket. "Why are you telling me this?" he repeated.
Fenrys rose from the trough, drying his face with the same lack of ceremony. "So you can stop wondering what happened. Focus on something else today." The warrior kept pace beside him as they headed for where they'd been told a meager breakfast would be laid out.
"And let her come to you when she's ready."
"She's my mate," Rowan growled. "You think I don't know that?" Fenrys could shove his snout into someone else's business.
Fenrys held up his hands. "You can be brutal, when you want something."
"I'd never force her to tell me anything she wasn't ready to say." It had been their bargain from the start. Part of why he'd fallen in love with her.
He should have known then, during those days in Mistward, when he found himself sharing parts of himself, his history, that he'd never told anyone. When he found himself needing to tell her, in fragments and pieces, yes, but he'd wanted her to know. And Aelin had wanted to hear it. All of it.
They discovered Aelin and Elide already at the buffet table, grim-faced as they plucked up pieces of bread and cheese and dried fruit. No sign of Gavriel or Lorcan.
Rowan came up behind his mate and pressed a kiss to her neck. Right to where his new claiming marks lay.
She hummed, and offered him a bite of the bread she'd already dug into while gathering the rest of her food. He obliged, the bread thick and hearty, then said, "You were asleep when I left a few minutes ago, yet you somehow beat me to the breakfast table." Another kiss to her neck. "Why am I not surprised?"
Elide laughed beside Aelin, piling food onto her own plate. Aelin only elbowed him as he fell into line beside her.
The four of them ate quickly, refilled their waterskins at the fountain in an interior courtyard, and set about finding armor. There was little on the upper levels that was fit for wearing, so they descended into the keep, deeper and deeper, until they came across a locked room.
"Should we, or is it rude?" Aelin mused, peering at the wooden door.
Rowan sent a spear of his wind aiming for the lock and splintered it apart. "Looks like it was already open when we got here," he said mildly.
Aelin gave him a wicked grin, and Fenrys pulled a torch off its bracket in the narrow stone hallway to illuminate the room beyond.
"Well, now we know why the rest of the keep is a piece of shit," Aelin said, surveying the trove. "He's kept all the gold and fun things down here."
Indeed, his mate's idea of fun things was the same as Rowan's: armor and swords, spears and ancient maces.
"He couldn't have distributed this?" Elide frowned at the racks of swords and daggers.
"It's all heirlooms," said Fenrys, approaching one such rack and studying the hilt of a sword. "Ancient, but still good. Really good," he added, pulling a blade from its sheath.
He glanced at Rowan. "This was forged by an Asterion blacksmith."
"From a different age," Rowan mused, marveling at the flawless blade, its impeccable condition. "When Fae were not so feared."
"Are we just going to take it? Without even Chaol's permission?" Elide chewed on her lip.
Aelin snickered. "Let's consider ourselves swords-for-hire. And as such, we have fees that need to be paid." She hefted a round, golden shield, its edges beautifully engraved with a motif of waves. Also Asterion-made, judging by the craftsmanship. Likely for the Lord of Anielle— the Lord of the Silver Lake. "So, we'll take what we're owed for today's battle, and spare His Lordship the task of having to come down here himself."
Gods, he loved her.
Fenrys winked at Elide. "I won't tell if you don't, Lady."
Elide blushed, then waved them onward. "Collect your earnings, then."
Rowan did. He and Fenrys found armor that could fit them—in certain areas. They had to forgo the entire suit, but took pieces to enforce their shoulders, forearms, and shins. Rowan had just finished strapping greaves on his legs when Fenrys said, "We should bring some of this up for Lorcan and Gavriel."
Indeed they should. Rowan eyed other pieces, and began collecting extra daggers and blades, then sections from another suit that might fit Lorcan, Fenrys doing the same for Gavriel.
"You must charge a great deal for your services," Elide muttered. Even while the Lady of Perranth tied a few daggers to her own belt.
"I need some way to pay for my expensive tastes, don't I?" Aelin drawled, weighing a dagger in her hands.
But she hadn't donned any armor yet, and when Rowan gave her an inquiring glance, Aelin jerked her chin toward him. "Head upstairs-track down Lorcan and Gavriel. I'll find you soon."
Her face was unreadable for once. Perhaps she wanted a moment alone before battle. And when Rowan tried to find any words in her eyes, Aelin turned toward the shield she'd claimed. As if contemplating it.
So Rowan and Fenrys headed upstairs, Elide helping to haul their stolen gear. No one stopped them. Not with the sky turning to gray, and soldiers rushing to their positions on the battlements.
Rowan and Fenrys didn't have far to go.
They'd be stationed by the gates at the lower level, where the battering rams might come flying through if Morath got desperate enough.
On the level above them, Chaol sat astride his magnificent black horse, the mare's breath curling from her nostrils. Rowan lifted a hand in greeting, and Chaol saluted back before gazing toward the enemy army.
The khaganate would make the first maneuver, the initial push to get Morath moving.
"I always forget how much I hate this part," Fenrys muttered. "The waiting before it begins."
Rowan grunted his agreement.
Gavriel prowled up to them, Lorcan a dark storm behind him. Rowan wordlessly handed the latter the armor he'd gathered. "Courtesy of the Lord of Anielle." Lorcan gave him a look that said he knew Rowan was full of shit, but began efficiently donning the armor, Gavriel doing the same.
Whether the soldiers around them marked that armor, whether Chaol recognized it, no one said a word.
"Ready now," Chaol called out to the men of his keep.
This would be it—today. Whether that hope remained or fractured.
Already, the awakening sky revealed two siege towers being hauled toward them. Right to the wall. Far closer than Rowan had last noted when flying overhead last night. Morath, it seemed, had not been sleeping, either.
The ruks would remain back with their own army, driving Morath to the keep. To be picked off here, one by one.
"We have minutes until that first tower makes contact with the wall," Gavriel observed. A scan of the battlements, the soldiers atop them, revealed no sign of Aelin. Lorcan indeed muttered, "Someone better tell her to stop primping and get here." Rowan snarled in warning.
"Archers!" Chaol's bellow rang out. Behind them, down the battlements, bows groaned. Fenrys unslung the bow across his back and nocked an arrow into place.
Rowan kept his own bow strapped across his back, the quiver untouched, Gavriel and Lorcan doing the same. No need to waste them on a few soldiers when their aim might be needed with far worse targets later in the day.
But one of them had to be noted felling soldiers. For whatever it would do to rally their spirits. And Fenrys, as fine an archer as Rowan, he'd admit, would do just fine.
Rowan followed the line of Fenrys's arrowhead to where he'd marked one of the bearers of a siege ladder. "Make it impressive," he muttered.
"Mind your own business," Fenrys muttered back, tracking his target with the tip of his arrow as he awaited Chaol's order.
If Aelin didn't arrive within another moment, he'd have to leave the battlements to find her. What in hell had held her up?
Lorcan drew his ancient blade, which Rowan had witnessed felling soldiers in kingdoms far from here, in wars far longer than this one. "They'll head for the gates when that siege tower docks," Lorcan said, glancing from the battlements to the gate a level below, the small bastion of men in front of it. Trees had been felled to prop up the metal doors, but should a solid enough group of enemy soldiers swarm it, they might get those supports and the heavy locks down within minutes. And open the gates to the hordes beyond
"We don't let them get that far," Rowan said, eyeing up the massive tower lumbering closer. Soldiers teemed behind it, waiting to scale its interior. "Chaol brought the tower down the other day without our help. It can happen again."
"Volley!" Chaol's roar echoed off the stones, and arrows sang.
Like a swarm of locusts, they swept upon the soldiers marching below. Fenrys's arrow found its mark with lethal precision.
Within a heartbeat, another was on its tail. A second soldier at the siege ladder fell.
Where the hell was Aelin—
Morath didn't halt. Marched right over the soldiers who fell on their front lines.
The pulse of human fear down the battlements rippled against his skin. The cadre would have to strike fast, and strike well, to shake it away.
The siege tower lumbered closer. One glance from Rowan had him and his friends moving toward the spot it would now undeniably strike upon the battlements. Close enough to the stairs down to the gate. Morath had chosen the location well.
Some of the soldiers they passed were praying, a shuddering push of words into the frigid morning air.
Lorcan said to one of them, "Save your breath for the battle, not the gods."
Rowan shot him a look, but the man, gaping at Lorcan, quieted.
Chaol ordered another volley, and arrows flew, Fenrys firing as he walked. As if he were barely bothered.
Still, the whispered prayers continued down the line, swords shaking along with them.
Up by Chaol, the soldiers held firm, faces solid.
But here, on this level of the battlements ... those faces were pale. Wide-eyed.
"Someone better say something inspiring," Fenrys said through gritted teeth, firing another arrow. "Or these men are going to piss themselves in a minute."
For a minute was all they had left, as the first siege tower inched closer.
"You've got the pretty face," Lorcan retorted. "You'd do a better job of it."
"It's too late for speeches," Rowan cut in before Fenrys could reply. "Better to show them what we can do."
Rowan steadied his breathing, readying his magic to rip through Valg lungs. He'd fell a few with his blades first. To show how easily it could be done, that Morath was desperate and victory would be near. The magic would come later.
The siege tower groaned as it slowed to a stop.
Just as the wall under them shuddered at its impact, Fenrys whispered, "Holy gods."
Not at the bridge that snapped down, soldiers teeming in the dark depths inside.
But at who emerged from the keep archway behind them. What emerged.
Rowan didn't know where to look. At the soldiers pouring out of the siege tower, leaping onto the battlements, or at Aelin.
At the Queen of Terrasen.
She'd found armor below the keep. Beautiful, pale gold armor that gleamed like a summer dawn. Holding back her braided hair, a diadem lay flush against her head. Not a diadem, but a piece of armor. Part of some ancient set for a lady long since buried.
A crown for war, a crown to wear into battle. A crown to lead armies.
There was no fear on her face, no doubt, as Aelin hefted her shield, flipping Goldryn in her hand once before the first of Morath's soldiers was upon her.
A swift, upward strike cleaved the Morath grunt from navel to chin. His black blood sprayed, but she was already moving, flowing like a stream around a rock.
Rowan launched into movement, his blades finding their marks, but still he watched her.
Aelin slammed her shield against an oncoming warrior, Goldryn slicing through another before she plunged the blade into the soldier she'd deflected.
She did it again, and again.
All while heading toward that siege tower. Unhindered. Unleashed.
A call went down the line. The queen has come.
Soldiers waiting their turn whirled toward them. Aelin took on three Valg soldiers and left them dying on the stones.
She planted her line before the gaping maw of that siege tower, right in the path of those teeming hordes. Every moment of the training she'd done on the ship here, on the road, every new blister and callus—all to rebuild herself for this.
The queen has come.
Goldryn unfaltering, her shield an extension of her arm, Aelin glowed like the sun that now broke over the khagan's army as she engaged each soldier that hurtled her way.
Five, ten—she moved and moved and moved, ducking and swiping, shoving and flipping, black blood spraying, her face the portrait of grim, unbreaking will.
"The queen!" the men shouted. "To the queen!"
And as Rowan fought his way closer, as that cry went down the battlements and Anielle men ran to aid her, he realized that Aelin did not need an ounce of flame to inspire men to follow.
That she had been waiting, yanking at the bit, to show them what she, without magic, without any godly power, might do.
He'd never seen such a glorious sight. In every land, every battle, he had never seen anything as glorious as Aelin before the throat of the siege tower, holding the line.
Dawn breaking around them, Rowan loosed a battle cry and tore into Morath.
This first battle would set the tone.
It would set the tone, and send a message.
Not to Morath.
Impress us, Hasar had said.
So she would. So she'd picked the golden armor and her battle-crown. And waited until dawn, until that siege tower slammed into the battlements, before unleashing herself.
To keep the men here from breaking, to wipe away the fear festering in their eyes.
To convince the khaganate royals of what she might do, what she could do. Not a threat, but a reminder.
She was no helpless princess. She had never been.
Goldryn sang with each swipe, her mind as cool and sharp as the blade while she assessed each enemy soldier, their weapons, and took them down accordingly. She dimly knew that Rowan fought at her side, Gavriel and Fenrys battling near her left flank.
But she was keenly aware of the mortal men who leaped into the fray with cries of defiance.
They'd made it this far. They would survive today, too. And the khaganate royals would know it.
Galloping hooves drowned out the battle, and then Chaol was there, sword flashing, driving into the unending tide that rushed from the tower's entrance.
"To Lord Chaol! To the queen!"
How far they both were from Rifthold.
From the assassin and the captain.
Arrows rose from the army beyond the wall, but a wave of icy wind snapped them into splinters before they could find any marks. A dark blur plunged past, and then Lorcan was at the siege tower's mouth, his sword swinging so fast Aelin could barely follow it. He battled his way across the metal bridge of the tower, into the stairwell beyond. Like he'd fight his way down the ramps and onto the battlefield itself. Below, a boom began. Morath had brought in their battering ram.
Aelin smiled grimly. She'd bring them all down. Then Erawan. And then she'd unleash herself upon Maeve.
At the opposite end of the field, the khagan's army pushed, gaining the field step by step.
Not helpless. Not contained. Never again.
Death became a melody in her blood, every movement a dance as the tide of soldiers pouring from the tower slowed. As if Lorcan was indeed forcing his way down the interior.
Those who got past him met her blade, or Rowan's. A flash of gold, and Gavriel had slaughtered his way into the siege tower as well, twin blades a whirlwind.
What Lorcan and the Lion would do upon reaching the bottom, how they'd dislodge the tower, she didn't know. Didn't think about it.
Not from this place of killing and movement, of breath and blood. Of freedom.
Death had been her curse and her gift and her friend for these long, long years. She was happy to greet it again under the golden morning sun.
#Chapter 57#Kingdom of Ash#Sarah J. Maas#Rowan Whitethorn#Aelin Galathynius#Chaol Westfall#First Read along with me NO SPOILERS PLEASE though warning for post & tags up to KoA 57 & more reacts/notes/quotes in tags below#Why didnt it blaze-they burned her-afraid2ask-had Aelin allowed it?Maeve stole&knew-no1had been able to heal past it-how powerful had been#Thought to thought-Hadn’t been able to ask why-She’s afraid too-Noone else-She was out for weeks after-Couldn’t tell her-The marks stayed#Fierce pride-One people-Happy-Breathing-Proof-Chaol didn’t knowWhat he didn’t sayHe knew it was her-Of the wildfire-How could he ask that?#But what had happened?-Training nothing-where is it?Fenrys knew-They didn’t pry-But he saw-Cold Fear hatred bit at him-He said it for her#cause he felt it too-What that’s horrific-No one other then them Knew-that it was that bad-Couldn’t breathe yeah me too-The ice again#That scar held longer than any-And they tried-she tried-Nehemia quick no more cowards-She’d given up and Fenrys knew it Aelin had broken-#before itShe knew they would break herThat’s what that run wasNot one of saving but one of leaving-I won’t go-When she’s lost hope#focus on something else stop wondering-He’ll say it so she doesn’t have to-Let her come when she’s ready-thanks Fenrys-His attitude is fair#but also he knows-Part of why he’d loved her-Should’ve known when she won’t talk it’s something that brutal-Needing wanting her to know#&hear-A mark-She fed him ACOTAR mate style-Laughed4once-the4-Their team-mischief&lovely-every door makes me miss Mort#THE ARMOR AND SWORDS-He reminds-He defends-She’s got a plan-Gods he loved her-my lady-if only gods for hire-the waves of it#lol sorry Lorcy they didn’t fit the armor-what’s her plan?-they know but they know enough to let her do her thing-unreadable-that shield#Aelin what’s the plan babe?-golden-she knows how to make an enterance-It’ll be done shortly so they listened to a queen knowing she’s hidin#Power of a good speech lol-Whether hope remained or fractured-Primping-Break in plan-NO THE TOWERS#Aelin&The/her cadre Breath for battle not gods Something inspiring-You’ve got a pretty face lol-the power of their names-Holygodsliterally#The queen has come-A crown-No fear-Aelin Anielle armor no braid nothing burning-3 months of power storing-she knew what show they needed#love her or hate her the woman’s got style- Rowan babe this is war you can’t just ogle your wife lol-Still he watched her-she is the sun#The queen has come-For this-She was ready-To the queen-Grim unbreaking will-What she without magic could do-Nothing like her#So she would show them-To the people+A reminder;She has never been a helpless princessno lost queenno before anything#the one you want now The Queen of Assassins. The Prince Rowan at her side.Her cadre around her.They’d survive to tell the tale#&the people know it.Hope.How far from the assassin and the captain we’ve come.the right hand man.What about Elide?Her plan1by1#Defiant not helpless dare I say she felt it too-Never againDeath her melody the one thing they all sharedHer never ending pursuit of Freedo#death her first friend the sun her first gift the question&answerAelins not using her power shes saving it for Maeve&gives that up for them
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raeathnos · 7 months ago
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#the heat index is 101F and our ac has been broken for the past three weeks at work#I worked an 8 hour shift I’m exhuasted + I’m sure I have heat exhaustion (again 🙃)#and like my cheap asshole father comes to pick me up with no ac on in the car 🫠#he argues all the goddamn time that the ac uses up so much gas and that wastes money and okay whatever that’s stupid#like do you want me to just fucking pass out in the passenger seat?#and he’s mad at me cause I may have snapped#but like again 101F outside no ac at work and I’ve had heat exhaustion every day for the past three fucking weeks#it’s literally a two minute drive home#but yeah I’m not worth two mins of ac#he has been extra nasty and having extra attitude and I’m fucking done#when I’m home I literally don’t leave my room anymore#dad’s also treating mom like shit which is like#I have issues with her too but idk what his fucking problem is anymore#and then she makes her problems everyone’s problems#so they’re acting like I need to fix how they treat each other#they should’ve got fucking divorced years ago#I keep telling them to go to fucking marriage counseling or something but nope#the thing is despite being shitty they are both still my parents and it is hard to hear them talk about each other that way#hence why I’m like begging them to either divorce or get counseling#but nah then they just turn it back on me and I’m terrible cause I don’t want to help them work through their problems 🫠#sometimes I think they literally had a kid so they could just blame everything wrong with them/their lives on me#I leave for vacation in like a week-ish and oh boy I cannot tell you how relieved I am to be getting away from them for a bit#I’m sure it’ll be a shit show when I get back but that’s a problem for later me#I just need a fucking break from the shit I put up with at work and the shit I put up with at home
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walking-loather · 8 months ago
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Will never forget being a kid and telling someone i was south african only to have them ask:
"Did you have clothes in africa?"
"Had you ever had a bath before coming to Australia?"
"Did you live in a house with walls and bricks?"
Like. Yeah, I guess we were 8... But also i feel like a lot of people's understanding of "Africa" has never really progressed past that point.
#its why i get so like... tetchy about generalisations regarding africa#like. its one thing if people are like. have you ever seen a lion in the wild. cos like. for aussies you do just see the wildlife loose#but some people 100% uncritically view africa as a backwater with everyone living in tribal societies#like we dont have skyscrapers too#like the poorest countries in the world have high rises and skyscrapers...#like yeah there is abject poverty too. and its poor person poverty not white person poverty. like poverty poverty#but that doesnt mean that the people arent.... human...?? yknow?#idk ive just dealt with a lot of very dehumanising attitudes#also im white so i had a very priveliged upbringing but when kids asked those questions i was IMMEDIATELY intimately aware that they saw me#as lesser#i wasnt a peer to them. i was beneath them. i probably hunted my own food and didnt know what a supermarket was#but yeah. being “from africa” brings interesting baggage i tell ya#lets just say that your parents playing the “kids starving in africa” card is *a lot* more effective#esp in my case bc my family was very poor in ZAR and food was always a bit of a touchy subject#when ur parents are skipping meals so you can eat and you have the misfortune of being a bit fussy... yeah...#yeah. you dont really get to have sensory issues with food. like my parents relented and let me skip peas and corn bc they would make me#have astronomical meltdowns. but like. other foods i had problems with too but they were 6/10 bad instead of 10/10 bad#so i just had to learn to eat them anyway and mask my emotional reactions.#im still trying to unlearn this. i still feel so guilty when i struggle with a texture and leave food on my plate.#and im still learning to be okay with having certain foods be like absolute no-go's without feeling foolish or childish about it#didnt even realise i had the coriander soap gene at first cos i am not unfamiliar with eating things even if my body says NOOO#anyway. long tangent. but the whole “you could be living in poverty right now” thing instead is... its like the parent nuke#i remember i got so offended once when my friend said that he hated being Australian and complained about what was bad with it#and like. he had points. Australias not perfect. but i have Immigrant Baggage and so complaining about Australia is also like...#idk like. i could be living in south africa. im pretty stoked to be here..#so my brain cant be normal about it. and im also paranoid about people thinking im a bad immigrant for having problems with Australia etc
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solxamber · 3 months ago
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Holding Them and Not Letting Go with: Housewardens + Jamil
a little something before i go all in for the milestone events <3
Other parts: Vice Housewardens + Rollo, Neige ; First Years
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Riddle Rosehearts
Riddle goes bright red the second you wrap your arms around him, stiffening in your hold like he’s forgotten how to breathe. He tries to splutter something coherent—maybe a reminder about PDA rules, maybe a request to know what’s going on—but his voice gets tangled up, and all that comes out is a confused murmur.
You don’t let go, though. Instead, you squeeze him a little tighter, prompting him to look down at you, his eyes widening with soft confusion. “Is… Is something wrong?” he stammers, gently pressing his hand to your shoulder, trying to read your face.
“Nothing’s wrong,” you answer with a warm smile. “I just love you, Riddle. That’s all.”
For a moment, he’s frozen. Just love him? He feels his heart stumble, so unfamiliar with this kind of simple, generous affection. In his childhood, hugs were formal gestures, love was measured and conditional—a reward to be earned, rarely felt freely. But here, with you… you’re holding him because you want to, with nothing expected in return.
Slowly, Riddle’s hands find their way to your back, and he pulls you close with a tenderness that surprises even him. There’s a quiet ache in his chest, an overwhelming mix of joy and disbelief, like he’s filling up with something he never knew he was missing. He clings to you, unable to speak, as though afraid that words might shatter the beautiful warmth settling between you.
You both stay like this, tangled together in silence. In this simple embrace, Riddle feels more seen, more loved, than he ever has before. It’s a feeling he wants to hold onto forever—a happiness he never thought he’d be allowed to have. For the first time, he feels completely at peace.
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Leona Kingscholar
You wrap your arms around Leona, your grip firm as if you’ve decided you’re never letting go. At first, he’s as stoic as ever, arching an eyebrow in mild confusion. “Oi, herbivore…what’s this all about?” he mutters, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
But when you stay silent, he lets out a chuckle, amused by your stubborn clinginess. “If you’re hoping to trap me, you might wanna try harder than that.”
After a few more moments, his teasing fades. You’re still holding him, your head resting against his chest, heartbeat steady against his. He tries to check if youre upset and realizes then that you’re not sad, nor do you seem upset; you’re simply content. When he starts to pull back to look at you, you give him a warm smile and quietly say, “I just…love you.”
The words wash over him, soft and simple yet deeply affecting. His expression shifts, from nonchalance to something much more vulnerable. To Leona, who’s spent much of his life overshadowed, unwanted, and fighting for recognition, the idea of being someone’s first choice feels like an impossibility.
And yet, here you are, holding onto him like he’s the only thing that matters. He swallows hard, not saying anything, but the look in his eyes says it all.
He finally allows his arms to come around you, drawing you in with more intensity than he’d probably ever admit aloud. His tail snakes around your waist in a protective loop, pulling you even closer, as if anchoring himself to you. “Don’t go getting mushy on me,” he mutters, trying to sound unaffected, but his grip tightens just a bit more.
But despite his usual attitude, he’s never felt this…full. Full of pride, full of warmth, full of something he’s struggled to admit he even wanted. And it’s all because of you, the one person who looked past his rough edges and stubborn exterior.
He chuckles softly, burying his face in your shoulder, whispering, “Guess you got yourself a lion for life, herbivore.”
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Azul Ashengrotto
Azul is hunched over his desk, papers and ledgers strewn around him, eyebrows furrowed as he works late into the night. He’s so engrossed that he doesn’t even notice you approaching until you gently climb onto his lap, resting yourself against him without a word. His body goes rigid in surprise, the usual control he wields over his composure completely shattered.
“Are you... feeling alright?” he asks, voice a little breathless, struggling to keep himself calm as you press your face into the crook of his neck. “Are you sick? Is there something wrong?”
You just shake your head, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. “I just love you, Azul,” you whisper softly, a warmth in your gaze that sends his heart into overdrive. “And I’m so proud of you.”
With that, you wrap your arms around him again, holding him close, and suddenly, all the strength in him unravels. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed this—how much he craved reassurance, wanted to know he was worth it.
All his insecurities, fears, and memories of feeling out of place resurface, but they’re softened by your presence, and with just one hug, you’re able to ease away all that self-doubt he keeps buried.
Without another word, he wraps his arms tightly around you, his grip firm and filled with an unspoken desperation. He clings to you as though you’re his lifeline, as though you’re the single steady point in his otherwise frantic world, and for a few moments, he allows himself to just feel—to let go of the worries, to set aside the constant weight of expectations.
The mountain of paperwork on his desk feels meaningless compared to the comfort you bring, and all he wants is to stay like this, holding you as closely as he can, reveling in the feeling of being loved for who he is.
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Kalim Al-Asim
Kalim is in his element, animatedly discussing ideas for his next big celebration. His hands gesture widely, his voice bright, detailing elaborate plans for decorations, food, entertainment—he's clearly in his happy place, and you can’t help but feel utterly captivated by his joy.
Without even thinking, you throw your arms around him, hugging him tightly mid-sentence. Kalim laughs, hugging you back with his usual enthusiasm, though a bit of surprise colors his expression when you show no signs of letting go. “Hey, is everything okay?” he asks, a smile in his voice.
You lean back just enough to grin up at him, eyes shining. “I’m perfectly okay. You just looked so radiant talking about the party—and I love you.”
He stares at you for a beat, completely dazzled, and then his face breaks into the brightest smile as he spins you around, laughter bubbling from both of you. When he finally sets you down, he pulls you close, cradling you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.
“I’m so glad you chose me,” he murmurs softly, his forehead pressing against yours. The simple joy radiates from him, a warmth and gentleness that wraps around you both. It’s a pure, unfiltered happiness that you feel too, knowing that you chose him, and he chose you.
You stay wrapped up in each other, reveling in that perfect moment, glowing with the warmth of shared love. For now, with his laughter filling the room and his arms securely around you, nothing else matters.
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Jamil Viper
Jamil walks into his room, the exhaustion from managing Scarabia weighing heavily on his shoulders. But before he can even remove his shoes, you’re already there, waiting for him. Without a word, you step into his space, your arms winding around him in a gentle but firm embrace.
His body relaxes instantly, the stress of the day melting away as you run a soothing hand down his back. The warmth of your touch settles over him like a blanket, but after a few moments, he notices you haven’t let go. The silence stretches, and his concern grows.
He pulls back just slightly, searching your face with quiet intensity. “Are you okay?” His voice is soft, careful, as though bracing for something serious.
You meet his eyes with a smile, your voice tender but full of affection. “I’m fine. I just… I love you. I’m proud of everything you do. You work so hard, and I see all of it. I just wanted to be here, with you.”
A deep warmth spreads through Jamil at your words, the weight of the day almost forgotten as he pulls you back into him. This time, his hold is even tighter, more possessive, as if he’s afraid that if he lets go, this moment will vanish. His face buries itself into your neck, and he inhales deeply, breathing in the scent of you—your presence, your comfort.
For once, he allows himself to fully sink into the embrace, no longer needing to wear his usual mask.
With you, he doesn’t have to hold back his feelings. For the first time in what feels like forever, he lets his guard drop, the emotional wall he’s spent building his whole life crumbling in the warmth of your arms.
“I could stay like this forever,” he whispers, the words barely audible as he holds you close. His voice is thick with emotion, a mixture of tenderness and longing. “I never want to leave your side.”
In the comfort of your touch, Jamil realizes something. He’s never felt more at peace, more cared for, than he does in this moment. He holds you tighter, savoring the feeling of being loved so deeply, so completely. No matter what happens, he knows this is where he belongs—in your arms, and with your heart.
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Vil Schoenheit
It’s been a long day, and by the time you reach Vil, all you want is to collapse into his arms. But before you can even speak, he’s already analyzing you, frowning at your slumped posture, the bags under your eyes, and the way you haven’t had time to take care of yourself. "Did you eat today? Are you even sleeping? Honestly, I can't—"
And before he can finish his lecture, you launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck.
He catches you with his usual elegance, barely flinching. His lips curl in that slight, amused way, but the concern in his eyes softens as you cling to him, not letting go.
"Darling, What's wrong?" he asks, his voice taking on a gentler tone as he instinctively pulls you closer. You can feel the smoothness of his coat beneath your fingers as you bury your face in his chest.
"I missed you," you murmur. "I'm just happy to see you. I love you. And I love that you worry about me."
Vil’s chest tightens at your words, a soft, almost imperceptible sigh escaping him. He gently strokes your back, the movement slow, deliberate. “You’re something else,” he teases, his lips twitching, but there’s warmth in his voice. “You know you should’ve eaten something, and yet here you are, throwing yourself at me.”
His hands remain on you, though, pulling you closer, stroking your back with a tenderness he rarely shows in public. He may pretend to be exasperated, but the way his fingers gently brush the length of your spine betrays his true feelings. Deep down, he’s touched by how much you put up with him.
"You should be scolded for your own good," he starts, but it’s a half-hearted attempt. There’s no real bite to his words this time. Instead, he just holds you tighter, deciding that, just for tonight, you don’t need any more lectures.
“You’ll never be rid of me now,” he murmurs softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “And you’re welcome to lean on me, always.”
In the comfort of his embrace, you let go of the day’s stress, finding peace in the warmth of his arms. There’s no need for anything else, just this moment, just him.
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Idia Shroud
Idia’s explaining the intricate details of a new strategy, his eyes wide with excitement. But then, suddenly, you set your controller down and throw yourself at him in an unexpected hug, effectively cutting off his speech. His hair flares a brilliant shade of pink as his brain momentarily glitches, clearly unsure of how to process what's happening.
And he is in full panic mode. His mind, always working a mile a minute, goes into overdrive trying to figure out what he did wrong, or if he's somehow messed things up.
“Uh—are you okay?” he stammers, voice filled with concern but entirely thrown off by the situation. You don’t answer with words, just a soft smile as you bury your face in his chest.
“I love you,” you whisper, “and you’re adorable.”
He’s used to being alone, to being misunderstood, to retreating into his games and hiding from the world. But here you are, in his arms, embracing him for no reason other than that you love him.
Despite his anxious thoughts swirling, he awkwardly places his arms around you, his body stiff at first, unsure of what to do. It takes him a moment before he relaxes, and as he holds you, his mind starts to clear. All those fears—of not being enough, or of being too much—slowly fade away, replaced by something that feels warm and real.
You, who listen to him ramble about things no one else would care about. You, who understand when he’s not up for going out, who accept him as he is. He feels so undeserving of someone so kind, but at the same time, something deep inside him stirs. It’s happiness. It’s love.
His arms tighten around you as he buries his face into your hair, his heart racing with a mixture of overwhelming joy and disbelief. He’ll never understand why someone like you would choose him, but as long as you’re here, he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
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Malleus Draconia
Malleus stands before you, holding the gargoyle he crafted with such care, the stone masterpiece shimmering in the soft light. "This is for you," he says softly, his voice full of pride. His eyes shine with the unspoken hope that you’ll appreciate the effort.
Before he can say anything else, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a warm embrace. He freezes for a moment, unsure, before his own arms encircle you with surprising gentleness. He’s always craved touch, but the depth of affection you offer fills him with awe.
The two of you stand there, the moment stretching on in comfortable silence, until Malleus pulls back slightly, his eyes searching your face. "Are you alright?" His voice holds a hint of concern.
You smile at him softly, your words simple but filled with a warmth he rarely hears: "You mean the world to me. I love you."
Malleus's breath catches in his throat, and before he can think, his arms tighten around you. He pulls you impossibly closer, as if afraid you’ll slip away. His heart races as he feels the weight of your love, the pure acceptance and tenderness you give him. The loneliness he’s lived with for so long, the misunderstandings, the isolation—none of it matters now.
He’s here with you. You see him, not as a prince or a fae of great power, but simply as Malleus. And that, more than anything, fills him with a kind of peace he’s never known.
Malleus buries his face in the crook of your neck, holding you tightly as if to make sure this moment doesn’t slip away. "I will never forget this," he murmurs softly. "I will cherish you... forever."
In your embrace, he finds something he thought was impossible—a sense of belonging. He smiles, feeling the warmth of your love seep into him, and he knows he is truly loved.
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sonarspace · 3 months ago
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NO NUT NOVEMBER ?
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꒰ synopsis. no nut november or nut november. who knows.. ft. sukuna. choso. nanami. toji. geto. gojo. (separate) warnings. thigh riding. tittyfūcking. chōking. slightly rough sėx. unprōtected. 69. öral. a/n. back again (maybe).. hope you all have a wonderful week!
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✧ SUKUNA
it’s only been four days, and sukuna’s already scoffing at the whole idea of no nut november. ridiculous, he thinks. restraint has never been an issue for him—especially not with you. but tonight, with the way you’re straddling his lap, that teasing glint in your eyes, he feels the beginnings of a crack.
you’re barely moving, just a subtle shift of your hips as you sit on his throne, looking every bit like you belong there. his gaze hardens, watching as you lean in close, your fingers tracing the lines of his chest. even as he fights it, his breathing hitches, his grip on your hips tightening.
“you’re really gonna test me like this?” he murmurs, voice low and dangerous. there’s a smirk on his face, but it’s more forced than usual, as if he’s already starting to lose his grip.
“oh, i’m sorry—is this getting to you?” you whisper, voice soft, teasing, that wicked little smirk of yours barely hidden.
his jaw clenches, and you see that familiar spark in his eyes. “you think you’re funny, don’t you?” he mutters, tone dark. “testing me, here, of all places.” there’s a slight growl in his voice, but you can tell he’s barely holding it together.
he lets out a low growl, and without breaking eye contact, his voice sharpens as he commands, “out. all of you.” the quiet shuffle of footsteps fades quickly as the doors shut, leaving the room silent and thick with tension.
the second you’re alone, his hands are on you, pulling you closer, his lips hovering just over yours as he growls, “now… let’s see how long that attitude lasts.”
one of his hands drifts up, finding the tie of your robe and giving it a slow, deliberate tug. the fabric slips loose, sliding off your shoulders, and he watches with a dark gleam in his eyes as it falls to the base of the throne, leaving you completely exposed to him.
“you wanted my attention, huh?” he murmurs, his voice a low, dangerous whisper against your ear. “well, now you’ve got it.”
he pulls you up, positioning himself, and with one powerful thrust, he’s inside you, filling you completely. a shiver runs through him, and his smirk returns, fierce and possessive as his hands move to grip your hips, holding you steady. “don’t think for a second you’re in control,” he mutters, his gaze fierce, unrelenting.
he leans in close, his lips brushing your neck as he begins to move, each thrust rougher, deeper, driving him further from the restraint he swore he’d keep. “you feel that?” he growls, his voice barely more than a whisper. “that’s me claiming every part of you… reminding you who you belong to.”
his hands tighten on your hips, guiding you to meet his rhythm, his breath hot against your skin as he loses himself in the moment. the intensity in his gaze is almost overwhelming, his usual confidence giving way to something darker, something that borders on need as he pulls you closer, deeper.
“look at me,” he demands, his voice low, ragged. “i want to see the way you fall apart. just like this… just for me.”
you lock eyes with him, the intensity of his gaze almost overwhelming, but you hold your ground, meeting him thrust for thrust. “sukuna,” you breathe out, barely a whisper, your voice catching on each of his movements.
“say it again,” he murmurs, his voice low, ragged, his usual control slipping. “say my name.”
when you do, a shiver runs through him, and his movements grow desperate, his grip bruising on your hips as he drives you both to the edge, each thrust more intense until he finally lets himself go, pulling you close as he shudders, his breath hot against your skin.
as he pulls back, chest heaving, there’s a satisfied smirk on his face, his gaze still dark and possessive. “don’t forget… you asked for this,” he murmurs.
but the glint in his eyes tells you he’s far from done.
✧ CHOSO
choso lasted exactly two weeks, longer than anyone expected—including himself. his quiet, focused nature kept him in control, but tonight, you can see his resolve wavering. he’s watching you as you get ready for bed, his gaze lingering as you slip your shirt off, his breath catching when he realizes you aren’t wearing a bra.
his eyes widen, and a blush spreads across his cheeks as he tries to look away. “a-are you… doing this on purpose?” he stammers, voice barely above a whisper, struggling to keep his composure.
you step closer, a playful smile on your lips as you look at him, tilting your head. “is it working?”
he nods, swallowing hard, his gaze reluctantly drifting back to your chest. “i… yeah. it’s… it’s definitely working,” he admits, his voice soft, almost reverent.
you move in front of him, leaning close so he can see every inch, and his hands come up without thinking, fingers brushing over your skin. he lets out a soft, shaky breath as his hands settle on your boobs, his eyes filling with a raw, almost worshipful hunger as he strokes your skin, feeling the warmth beneath his fingers.
without even realizing it, he leans in, his face pressing into your chest, his lips brushing over your skin. his hands tremble as they slide over your boobs, and he lets out a quiet, desperate sound, his mouth pressing against your skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he loses himself completely.
his tongue flicks over your nipple, his breath hot and unsteady as he nuzzles deeper, barely holding himself together as he finally indulges in the softness he’s been craving. “so perfect…” he murmurs, voice barely more than a breath, as if he’s talking to himself.
you gently push him back, sinking down onto your knees, and his eyes flutter open, his breathing ragged as you help him out of his pants. he watches you, lips parted, as you wrap your hand around his length, guiding him toward your chest.
pressing the head of his cock against your nipple, you let him feel the warmth and softness, watching as his eyes go hazy, his lips parting in a soft moan. his hips jerk forward instinctively, grinding into your chest as his head falls back, completely lost in the sensation.
“oh… god,” he whispers, his voice barely more than a breath as you press him between your boobs, holding him there. his eyes roll back, a deep, unsteady moan slipping from his lips as he watches, entirely undone by the moment.
“does that feel good?” you murmur, and he nods frantically, his body trembling as he begins to move, each slide of his length sending a shiver through him, his hands gripping your shoulders as if he needs to hold on.
“yes… please, don’t stop,” he breathes, his voice filled with awe and need. “i… i can’t hold back,” he whispers, his gaze darkening with raw, desperate want.
“then don’t,” you reply, holding him close, guiding his movements as he lets out soft, needy sounds, his breathing growing more ragged with every slide, his whole body tensing as he loses control.
as he reaches his peak, his body shudders, and he lets go completely, painting your chest and stomach in white, his eyes widening as he gazes at you, breathless and in awe. he’s silent for a moment, taking in the sight of you, then, unable to stop himself, he gently pushes you back onto the floor, hovering over you as his hand trails down your body. his voice is low, almost pleading, as he whispers, “please… let me feel you. i need you.”
✧ NANAMI
nanami had lasted ten days into november, his natural discipline keeping him steady, even as you spent the morning testing his patience. during breakfast, you’d nudged his foot under the table, let your fingers brush his a little too long, your playful glances lingering. he brushed it off with his usual calm, but now, as you slip into his office just after his last meeting, he’s holding onto his control by a thread.
he looks up at you, his gaze lingering, something dark and intense flashing in his eyes. “come here for a minute,” he says, his voice steady, but with an edge that makes your pulse quicken.
you step closer, dressed in a soft, silk nightgown that flows against your skin, and before you can say a word, he catches your wrist, pulling you close. in one swift movement, he turns you around, pressing your wrists behind your back, his grip firm as he holds you in place. his breath is hot against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine as he murmurs, “you’ve been testing me all day. and now… you’re going to see exactly what that gets you.”
he reaches for his belt, looping it around your wrists, securing them firmly, his fingers lingering just long enough to make you tremble. his other hand slides down, pressing you flat against the desk, the cool surface meeting your skin as he pushes the silk nightgown up over your hips. with one quick motion, he slips your underwear down, letting it fall to the floor with a soft rustle.
you feel him press against you, his hand pressing into the small of your back as he positions himself. he takes a breath, and you feel the head of his cock brush against you, firm and thick, making you catch your breath. he guides himself in slowly, letting you feel every inch as he stretches you, filling you completely. a low, rough sound escapes his lips, and his hands tighten on your waist as he holds you there, his restraint unraveling with each second.
the desk creaks beneath you as he begins to move, his thrusts steady but intense, each one pressing you deeper against the hard surface. papers slip from the edge, fluttering to the floor as the table rocks beneath his rhythm, the soft creak and the shuffle of falling papers mingling with his ragged breathing.
“all day…” he mutters, voice strained, his hand gripping your waist with possessiveness . “you’ve been pushing me… testing my patience.” each word is punctuated by a deep thrust, the stretch leaving you breathless, his length filling you to the brim
his rhythm grows more desperate, his pace quickening as his control slips further, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, “you feel incredible.” his tone is low, rough, filled with raw need.
the sound of the desk creaking beneath you fills the room as he drives deeper, harder, the intensity building as he loses himself completely. his hand slides up, pressing firmly into your lower back as he pulls you closer, each thrust sending a shock of pleasure through you. “you have no idea how close i was,” he whispers, his voice barely more than a growl, “to doing this hours ago… right here.” his movements grow more urgent, his grip tightening as he lets out a low, guttural sound.
as he finally shudders, burying himself fully, he lets out a deep groan, his breathing ragged, his hand still pressing you down as he reaches his peak. even as he catches his breath, his grip on you lingers, fingers tracing over your skin as he glances at the scattered papers, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
before you can fully recover, he lifts you up effortlessly, carrying you toward the bedroom. his voice is low, a hint of mischief coloring his usual calm tone. “oh, we’re far from done,” he murmurs, as he sees the look of slight confusion your face. “i think it’s only fair that i tease and edge you, just like you’ve been doing to me for the past ten days.”
✧ TOJI
toji lasted one day. just one. patience was never his strong suit, and especially not with you. by the time you get home from work, he’s already at his breaking point, practically pacing, anticipation coiling tight as he’s waited to see you all day.
the second you walk through the door, he’s on you, gaze dark and hungry as it roams over you, taking in every inch like he can’t believe you’re finally here. “took you long enough,” he mutters, voice rough, barely restrained.
before you even get a word out, he closes the distance, hands grabbing onto you and pulling you close, his lips crashing into yours, all impatience and need. his hands roam down to your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your clothes, and with one swift, impulsive motion, he grabs hold and tears it off, the sound of ripping fabric filling the room.
“toji!” you huff, exasperated at yet another ruined outfit, but he just chuckles, his smirk widening as he leans in, voice a low, teasing murmur. “shouldn’t have worn anything, then,” he mutters, his hands moving over your bare skin, possessive and rough.
he presses you back against the wall, his body pinning you there, heat radiating off him as he takes in the sight of you, his gaze lingering. he lips you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, and you feel the thick, hard length of him pressing into you, making your breath hitch.
you’re already soaked, your arousal slick between your thighs, and he wastes no time, lining himself up. in one powerful thrust, he pushes into you, filling you completely, and a low, rough groan slips from his lips as he feels you stretch around him. his cock is thick, stretching you just enough to leave you gasping, clutching onto him as he bottoms out.
the wall behind you creaks with every thrust as he sets a relentless pace, his cock sliding in and out of you, each movement making you slicker, the sound of your bodies joining filling the room. his hand slides up to your throat, fingers pressing just enough to keep you focused on him, grounding you as he takes you harder. the way he fills you has your walls fluttering around him, each thrust hitting deep, brushing spots that leave you gasping and clinging to him.
“one day…” he growls against your neck, voice rough and strained, his fingers tightening slightly around your throat, making you gasp. “that’s all i could last. one. damn. day.”
he thrusts harder, each movement more intense, your arousal coating him, easing his rough pace, his cock thick and heavy inside you. each time he pulls back and thrusts in again, you feel yourself tighten around him, your walls clenching with each push. “you feel so good… so tight around me. you’re gonna remember this every time you tease me, every single time.”
his breathing becomes uneven, his grip on your throat and waist tightening as he pulls you close, thrusting deep until he’s fully seated within you, pushing against your most sensitive spot. with one final, thrust, he pauses, buried as far as he can go, and you feel the thick head of his cock pressing against your most sensitive spot, making an indent as he holds you there.
he shudders, his hold on you tightening, and a deep groan slips from his lips as he finally lets go, his release spilling into you in waves. his cock twitches, pulsing with each spasm, savoring every second of how tightly you’re wrapped around him, his body tense, completely overwhelmed.
as he catches his breath, his hand slowly eases off your throat, and he pauses, his gaze softening as he notices the faint mark his fingers left. without a word, he leans in, pressing gentle, lingering kisses over the sensitive skin, his lips warm and tender against where he’d held you. his smirk is gone, replaced by a quieter satisfaction as he looks at you, voice low and soft. “next time…” he murmurs, “don’t make me wait. one day was already too damn long.”
✧ GETO
geto kept a calendar next to his bed, marking off each day of the month, like keeping count would somehow make it easier to get through. day 19 stared back at him, almost mocking him—no matter how many days he marked off, the restraint wasn’t getting any easier.
tonight, as you settled into his lap to watch a movie, pressing your weight into him, he could feel every shift of your hips and smell that soft, intoxicating scent that told him you were ovulating. his jaw tightened, fingers digging into the cushion as he tried to keep his breathing steady, fighting to hold his composure.
and then you whispered, low and pleading, “screw no nut november, suguru… i want you.”
his hand flexed against your hip, and he closed his eyes, inhaling slowly, trying to keep his calm. “it’s almost over,” he murmured, voice calm, though his eyes betrayed the struggle. “just a few more days. you can be patient.”
“please…” you murmured, voice breathless, pressing closer, testing every last bit of his resolve.
he shook his head, voice strained. “if you need it that badly… then get yourself off.” he positioned you over his lap, hands guiding you to straddle his thigh, pressing you down so you could feel the firm, sculpted muscle beneath you. his thigh flexed, the intricate snake tattoo winding down his leg, every line a reminder of him. but he stayed still, just watching, his gaze dark, waiting.
you pouted, shifting against him, letting out a frustrated huff. “i want you, not just this,” you murmured, grinding down against his thigh, your hands braced on his shoulders, fingers digging into him, trying to break through that last bit of control.
his breathing grew heavier, his gaze flickering down to where you moved against him, your arousal slick against his thigh. each roll of your hips tested his patience, the feeling of your heat soaking through his clothes, your soft whimpers as you tried to get closer.
“just a little longer,” he murmured, though his voice had a rough edge to it, the words catching in his throat. but the way you looked up at him, eyes pleading, breath coming faster, was enough to start cracking his resolve.
finally, he let his hands grip your hips firmly, holding you in place as he lifted you slightly, positioning you so he could slide beneath you. with a smirk, he shifted you, guiding you so you were hovering above his face, your legs on either side of him. “if you’re going to make me lose control,” he murmured, voice dark with intent, “then i’m going to make it worth it.”
before you could respond, he pulled you down, his mouth meeting your center, his tongue pressing flat against your clit, sending a shiver up your spine. he lingered there, savoring the taste of you, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles, making you gasp. his hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you exactly where he wanted, guiding you to move just enough to deepen the contact, his tongue slipping lower, teasing your entrance before sliding inside, his movements slow, unhurried, as he tasted you.
you couldn’t help but moan, your fingers tangling in his long hair, gripping tightly as he worked, his mouth and tongue relentless, flicking, tasting, his lips closing around your clit as he sucked gently, sending waves of pleasure through you. your walls pulsed around his tongue, each sensation building, making your grip on him tighten as you struggled to keep your balance, overwhelmed by the way he devoured you.
unable to resist, you shifted, turning so you could settle over his face fully, leaning down to free his cock, feeling the heavy, aching heat of him against your palm. he groaned into you as you wrapped your fingers around him, his cock flushed and hard, a deep shade that matched the warmth on his cheeks.
leaning forward, you took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling over the tip, tasting the salty hint of his arousal. his hips twitched beneath you, a low, muffled sound escaping him as his grip on your hips tightened, but his focus never wavered, his mouth and tongue working against you, your bodies moving in sync as you both gave in to each other completely.
✧ GOJO
it only took six days for gojo to break, though he’d never admit that it was because of you. every little brush of your fingers, every flirtatious smile—it was killing him. now, with him just back from a mission, that need has become almost painful, and he can’t hide it.
“you’re really going to make me keep waiting?” he asks, his voice low and playful but with a hint of something darker as he watches you, gaze intense.
you give him a teasing smile, taking a step back. “come on, satoru… it’s only been six days.”
he laughs, stepping closer, his smile turning into a smirk. “six days too many,” he murmurs, reaching out, his fingers brushing along your waist, pulling you in close. his lips hover near your ear, his voice a soft murmur. “haven’t you missed me?”
you feel a shiver run through you, but you keep your composure, smiling up at him. “maybe,” you tease, “but it is no nut november, you know..”
he chuckles, his grip on your waist tightening as he leans in, pressing his lips to your neck. “hmm, don't really care for it,” he murmurs, his mouth hot against your skin, his hands roaming over your body as he pulls you closer.
you try to keep up the teasing, but his touch is making it impossible to think. “satoru…” you whisper, your voice barely steady.
“yeah?” he breathes, his gaze darkening as he studies you, his blue eyes filled with that familiar glint. “why don’t you just say it? you want me just as much as i want you, don’t you?”
before you can answer, his lips crash against yours, all teasing replaced by a fierce urgency as he pulls you against him, his hands sliding up to tangle in your hair, keeping you close. his kiss is deep, almost dizzying, as his fingers trail down, finding the hem of your shirt and tugging it off with a skillful ease.
he sits back onto the edge of the bed, taking you with him as he pulls you into his lap, his hands gripping your waist, guiding you to straddle him. he looks up, his eyes filled with that playful, almost wicked spark. “if we’re breaking rules,” he murmurs, “we might as well do it right.”
he presses you down, letting you feel him hard against you, and a soft, satisfied groan escapes his lips as he watches your reaction. his hands slide over your thighs, fingers pressing firmly into your skin as he tilts his head back, smirking. “see? this feels a lot better than no nut november, don’t you think?”
you roll your hips against him, feeling him throb beneath you, and his breath catches, his grip tightening as he lets out a low, ragged laugh. “you’re really going to make me work for this, aren’t you?” he murmurs, voice dropping.
without warning, he shifts, pulling you down so he can lean in, his mouth finding your neck as he kisses down, his tongue flicking against your pulse. his hands roam over your body, tugging off the last of your clothes, his mouth following every inch of bare skin he reveals. finally, he leans back, hands on your hips as he positions you over him, his gaze never leaving yours as he pulls you down onto him.
he looks down, smirking as he brushes his finger along your entrance, teasing you. “did she miss me?” he murmurs, his voice thick, and before you can respond, he pushes in, letting out a deep groan as he fills you completely. “yeah, sweetness,” he breathes, his voice low and rough, “i’ve missed you too.”
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DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!
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writersdrug · 5 months ago
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Bartender!Simon accidentally running into Waitress!Reader while she’s carrying a bunch of drinks for a table, causing them to spill all over herself 👉🏻👈🏻
Even more bonus points if she’s dressed in a white shirt, iykyk 👀
You're onto something here
Also, combining this with the ask about reader snooping through Simon's flat on the 3rd floor
Warnings: NSFW, slight humiliation, Simon goes from gentleman to having nasty nasty thoughts
It's a busy night - when mid-September rolls in, the nights get colder, and people gravitate towards the warm lighting of the bar through the street-front window. You still have a couple of hours left on your shift, which means Ghost still has a while, too.
He can't remember how many beers he's poured tonight. The noise of the shaker is drowned out by the buzz in his head. Mack wants another PBR. Table eleven still needs their shots and two Martinis. He's in the zone, pouring liquor and juices and bitters with practiced skill. He catches every word from the patrons at the bar - at least, every order. He mumbles out a quick "step back, please" when a gaggle of girls tries to stand near the end of the bar, waiting for their drinks. The bar is completely seated, people stuffing themselves between chairs to place their orders. Somon's got half a mind to tell them to clear out and get the fuck back, but he has to be civil. It won't be this hellish for too much longer - Price texted Simon that he'd be there in a bit to help.
Simon's more concerned about you: you're running around, delivering food and drink, bringing condiments and refilling waters - you're weaving between tables, maneuvering around bodies with a quick "sorry" or "scuse me"... you're at one table, and in the blink of an eye, you're at another. Simon sometimes doesn't realize you went into the kitchen until you're busting the door open with plates of food. You're covered in a light sheen of sweat, your usual chipper attitude dampened by the Friday night rush. Simon doesn't miss the way you scowl when you hear a table calling for you, when both of your hands are full.
You push yourself through the crowd of girls hovering by the end of the bar. You huff, grabbing a tray and some glasses. "Is it national 'Go to a Bar' day?" You mumble, squeezing behind Simon and heading to the free soda gun.
He barely makes an effort to reply. "Must be." He grunts, pulling several bottles from the shelves and setting them on the counter. He's snatching this and that - you fill your glasses with water, sliding behind him and grabbing the various drinks on the end of the back and stacking them on your tray.
A man elbowed his way between the patrons at the bar. "Can I get another DogFish IPA?" He says, sticking his glass across the bar.
Simon groans internally, but he keeps a stoic face. He quickly leans to his left and reaches for the glass - right as you were picking up your tray, now stacked with drinks. You stumble back, not expecting Simon to be so close to you, and bump into one of the girls that crowds by the bar's entrance.
Simon feels his stomach drop when he sees each of the glasses topple over. You're instantly drenched, alcohol splashing across your eyes, which you have squeezed shut from the onslaught of fluids. Your shirt is absolutely soaked; a few of the glasses fall to the ground and shatter upon impact, alerting the entire bar and making their heads turn to you - the man who handed Simon the glass is ogling at you shamelessly, and the girl you'd bumped into turns around with a simple oh…
You're frozen, eyes wide and your entire front soaking. Your white shirt is practically see-through, clinging to your skin and providing little coverage for your pink, lacy bra. You look mortified and on the verge of tears. Your panicked stare drifts to Simon - you think he's going to yell at you, or worse: give you the silent treatment for the rest of the night because he's too frustrated to speak.
Simon is trying to keep his own staring under wraps – your tits look absolutely tantalizing, hugged so tightly by your wet shirt – but he snaps out of his daze when he sees your teary eyes. He drops everything - you're the most important person in the room right now. He quickly takes the tray from you and sets it aside.
"Here-" he shoves a fresh rag into your hands. "Cover up with that." He says, taking you by your shoulders and leaning down to your level. "Third floor, there's a dresser on th' left side, second drawer has shirts. Go dry off 'n get a new shirt, I'll clean this up."
You're too stunned to cry. You're angry, embarrassed, frustrated... there's so much happening around you, so many eyes staring at your fuck-up, but Simon's eyes keep you from losing control of your emotions. He doesn’t seem angry or irate – he’s worried about you. Shouldn't you help him clean up? It's your mess after all. "But-"
"Hush. Go on, luv - you're practically see-through." He quickly turns you around and gently shoves you into the crowd, and you hurry away to the stairwell without protest, holding the rag close to your chest.
Simon sighs. The pub slowly starts to return to normal, though people aren't trying as hard to get their drinks. A sense of shame seems to hang around everyone’s heads, though there was only one party at fault, here. He stares daggers at the girls who are still hovering by the bar. The one you ran into is gawking back in fear - she knows she messed up.
"Get the fuck back." Simon seethes, storming over to the POS. They all scramble away and press against the wall, afraid he might start swinging at them. "Finish ya drinks and leave. 'M closin' your tab. You're done."
They dissipate back into the crowd, right as Soap pops his head out of the kitchen. "Heard a crash, ye alright?"
"Fuckin' wankers can't understand simple orders." Simon grumbles, grabbing a broom from the corner and sweeping up the glass. "Slag couldn't get her ass out th' fuckin walkway and made bird spill a tray."
"Christ, she ok?"
"Upstairs. Changin'. Shirt nearly disappeared when it got wet."
"Need me tae check up on-"
"Got a fuckin' kitchen t' run, don't ya?"
Johnny scoffs and disappears back into the kitchen. Simon continues sweeping - he spots Price jogging up to the building throught he street front window, and he sighs in relief.
Upstairs, you do just as Simon instructed. You're topless, your bra still a bit damp after you tried to towel-dry it with he rag Simon gave you. You're sifting through his drawer, face scrunched as you shuffle through and inspect each shirt. You're a bit miffed at how many plain, black t shirts he has - has he ever stepped foot into an Old Navy? - but, eventually, you hit the jackpot.
You pull a shirt from the very bottom of the drawer. It's army green, a bit worn over the years, with a bit of a natural, masculine musk clinging to it. The right front chest has a skull, a sword, and wings, along with the table "Task Force 141". On the back, in large letters: "LT. RILEY".
A smile creeps its way onto your face. He never said which shirt... he said any shirt. And this is the one you want.
Your bra comes off quicky, the fabric still wet and uncomfortable. You toss it somewhere on the bed behind you – you’re sure Simon wouldn’t mind if you hung it over the back of his chair, right? Can’t be wearing a wet bra while you’re running around the restaurant; you’d have a bra-shaped water stain on your shirt. Or, worse – you’d get sick. And you know for a fact (though he’s never said it to you) that Simon would kick himself if you got sick on the job.
You quickly pull the shirt on - it swallows you, both in size and scent. It smells just like him - the bodywash you catch a whiff of when you pass him, the slight muskiness that surrounds you when he reaches above you to grab something - it's all there, just tenfold. You stand up and pull it down; it covers your thighs down to your shorts, almost making it look like you weren’t wearing any to an unassuming person.
You take a peek around the room: it’s quite cozy, even with a lack of real décor. The bed sits against the middle of the wall, with Carolina blue sheets and a grey comforter. The pillows look rather worn, but there’s at least three of them. There’s a television on the dresser that faces the bed, and a small bookshelf in the corner next to an antique-looking chair, except the shelf is filled with mostly keepsakes and memorabilia. Any books in the room are stacked on the edges of the two bay windows, embedded in the brick wall that faces the street. The only lighting comes from three lamps: one on the nightstand by his bed, a taller one next to the clothes rack near the bathroom, and a lantern-looking lamp that he’s somehow attached next to the door.
Curiosity gets the better of you – discovering anything about Simon that he hasn’t already told you is like striking oil. You pad over to the shelf, leaning down to inspect the various objects. A balaclava, rolled up and tucked behind a box. In said box is a medal, bronze and dull, with a fist tightly holding a blazing torch. A worn-down pair of sunglasses lay next to a ring. A green stone sits on a silver band, nestled between two ivy vines. There’s a picture of the four of them: Simon, Johnny, Price, and even Kyle – you had assumed they had met Kyle through the restaurant industry, but there they all were. Dressed in military uniforms, holding guns and posing with stern faces in front of a helicopter. Simon was wearing a rather terrifying skull mask, the rest of him completely covered by his uniform. You were only able to recognize Simon from his brown eyes, but the man in the photo looked entirely different from the bartender downstairs.
Fuck! You completely forgot that you were a waitress, sniffing around your manager’s office when you should be tending to your tables. You turned on your heel and left Simon’s room, running down the stairs two at a time.
Simon was still in the eye of the storm – barely a word had been passed between him and Price, other than a simple hello when he had first hopped behind the bar. Simon was keeping an eye on your tables, which were currently satisfied for the time being – but damn, what was taking you so long? Were you showcasing all of his shirts? The thought of that would’ve had him biting his cheek to prevent a boner, but he was too busy to be anything but concerned for you.
On cue, you come bounding down the stairs, throwing yourself back into the busy crowd as you tie your server apron around your waist. Simon pours a tap, barely able to make out your form flitting through the crowd, making sure your tables are well-off and happy. Price calls your name over the din of the crowd, and you squeeze yourself through the mass of people to collect the drinks sitting on the end of the bar.
“Sorry!” you exclaim, setting your drinks on a tray. “Had to mop myself up a bit with the rag. Did anyone order anything from my tables?” you ask, looking at Simon.
He’s… occupied. His eyes are trained on your shirt. His shirt. That army green that brought up so many old memories, ones he hadn’t thought of in a long time,..
His shirt. Covering your body – and, fucking Christ, you’re not wearing a bra. You’re completely naked under that shirt.
You’re confused. He’s staring at you with such a shocked, glassy pair of eyes that you wonder if you’ve shot him in the leg. You look down at what he’s staring at – oh, right. The shirt. A part of you heats up in embarrassment, and a part in… something else. Yes, I took your shirt. I’ve got your name on my back. If he’s thoroughly upset by this, he’s not expressing it. And if you’re mistaken in the thought that he looks aroused (you wouldn’t be surprised to find him drooling behind the mask – you know how delicious you look right now), you’ll give him the shirt back eventually and pretend this never happened.
“Thanks for earlier.” You spoke over the noisy chatter around you. “This, uh- I hope it’s ok, it was the first shirt I saw.”
Bullshit. He knows he buried that thing deep in his drawer. He did it on purpose. “’S fine.” He mumbles, still dazed.
You glance at him as you carefully balance the tray on your hand. The printer is dealing ticket after ticket of drinks as Price enters them – the man looks at Simon with a frustrated, tight-lipped glare, working double-time to push orders through.
“I’ll be back to grab the rest.” You say quickly. You scurry off, careful to avoid slamming into anyone this time. Simon nearly has a heart attack when he sees his last name across your back. You might as well have his bite mark branded onto the side of your neck.
This opens up a nasty can of worms for him. He’s a goner – he’s thinking about chasing you around the bar, after hours, while all you’re wearing is his shirt; snatching you up and slamming you down on the bar, shoving his face in between your thighs; what you sound like when he pumps you with his fingers; pounding you against the wall in the office, hips crashing into yours as he growls and grunts in your ear, “wanna wear my fuckin’ name, baby? hmm? wanna make sure everyone in this fuckin’ pub knows you’re mine? I’ll gladly fuckin’ help you, fuckin’ tease-“; god, he needs you, he needs to know what you feel like wrapped around his dick, what you sound like when he’s reaching those spots, he needs your nails in his back and your palm smacking him across his face and your teeth on his neck-
“Simon!”
John’s- no, Captain Price’s voice shuts off the movie playing in his mind. He looks at him, barely recognizing the growing frustration in his eyes – Simon’s fighting his own demons right now, and he isn’t even sure if his Captain’s wrath can save him.
“Stop thinkin’ with your Pork Sword and get your arse back on bar.” Price barks – a few of the regulars laugh at that, and Simon realizes he’d had an audience.
He clears his throat and grabs a ticket, quickly reading it and grabbing a glass. He forces himself to let go of the fantasy – he’ll have all night to think about it once he closes. That, or he’ll be hating himself for even thinking of you in that way, especially when the situation wasn’t in your favor. For now, though, he’s got a job to do. He continues to pour and stir and shake drinks left and right, occasionally stealing glances at you, prancing around with his title.
He knows one thing’s for certain – your bra is still somewhere in his room.
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nochepsicodelica · 6 months ago
Text
Toji who got really drunk after a misunderstanding you left him to ponder upon one morning when you left for work. You missed a part of your routinely goodbye to him and at first it didn't bother him. He understood that you were running late, but once he started chugging the cold drinks and he sat with the sentiment, he realized it did strike him.
He hated the entire process of getting drunk, hated that drinking was unbearable unless it was chased with sweet kisses from you, but there he was, downing bottle after bottle. He was starting to feel liquid full but even in this intoxicated state he didn't want to put down the bottles. At some point he starting feeling uncomfortable being by himself and didn't want to feel that way anymore, so he called and texted you. Multiple times. You finally picked up after the eighth call.
-Hi, baby! Sorry, I missed your calls. I just left work and i'm heading home.-
-Baby? Who are you calling baby?- He scoffs, a roll of his eyes following.
-You... Toji. It's you. Who else would I be calling baby?-
-Honestly, I...- He laughs, the sound not coming off as one of joy with the next words he speaks. -I didn't think you even loved me enough to give me stupid pet names. I feel very unloved by you and... mhm, just want you to know that.-
Now, that's just entirely untrue and it hurts to hear. You prove your love for him every day. What is this sudden false claim against you?
-Toji, love, what are you saying? I'm coming home, already. Maybe we should talk in person. This is hard to discuss over the phone.-
-Uh-huh, you do that.- He sighs, heavily, his eyes lidding with sluggishness. -Can't win a verbal argument, s-so you're gonna come over here and try to seduce me with your pretty face. I'm just gonna say no when you try to touch me. Just no.-
-I'll see you in a bit, Toji.- you say, before abruptly hanging up.
He sounded off. You knew something was up the second you saw his eight missed calls and a stack of messages just saying 'hey'.
Your keys jingled as you pulled them out of your bag to unlock the front door. The house was steady, no sign of Toji watching TV in the living room or of the shower running. You walked further in, calling his name. It was kind of eery walking through your silent house. You also knew of Toji's tendency of scaring you, so you were on guard for that as you paced around the house. You had one more room to check and it was the bedroom. You dragged your feet over to the room, knocking when you noticed the door was closed. There was no answer after two more knocks so you just opened the door.
The sound startled Toji who was lying against the headboard of the bed, almost falling asleep. The second he saw you his demeanor changed. He perked up like a dog when their owner comes home, before melting back to the stoic state he had been sitting in.
"Hey," you say, almost tentatively, as you walk towards your shared bed, sitting down on the edge. You're met with an acknowledging hum of a response. "What's wrong, baby?"
"There you go calling me baby again. Baby is for people who love each other, so stop it."
You look over the bed, spotting the evidence that led to the bite in his attitude towards you— those bottles that spill the remaining drops of their content and Toji's backwash onto the bed, making the sheets reek of alcohol.
"Well, I love you, so no, i'm not gonna stop calling you baby."
He crosses his arms over his chest, huffing like a child. "That so? It didn't seem that way this morning. I've never felt so forgotten about by you."
"I told you I was gonna be late for work, but you insisted on keeping me trapped beneath you. Bring that part to light, handsome." You can see the corners of his lips twitching. He's holding back the most wicked smirk at the short burst of memories from the morning. "Plus, I still gave you your goodbye kiss, so what are you on about?"
"You didn't say 'I love you'. That's part of goodbye with you, so you can't blame me for feeling this way." His eyes express something of hurt. Maybe it's enhanced by the drinks he had, but you can't leave him that way.
"You're loved, baby. Very much so. Me not saying it this one time doesn't diminish the actual feeling." He's been reduced to a cub over this, so as his lover, you step in to mend the feelings that were grazed.
"Can you..." he rasps, patting his thigh, signaling for you to sit. You drag yourself towards him, and plop yourself onto his lap. You can smell the alcohol on his breath as he rambles on about how you can't forget to say 'I love you' to him ever again, even if it's a blurted, rushed one that he doesn't get a chance to respond to as you rush out the door.
The look he reserves for you is entirely soft, his hands are hot against your clothed back as they feel the warm body he's missed for hours. "I still..." he pauses to sigh, tiredness imbued into the sound. "Still want you to call me baby," he starts again. "I was just bummed. Don't stop calling me baby. Don't ever do that." He's letting his hands roam all over you. Your back, your waist, your hips—everything.
"Are you gonna let me touch you or are you gonna say 'no'?" You grin, remembering his words, verbatim, just incase he tries to tell you he never said them.
"Why aren't you touching me? Why would I not want you to touch me?" He looks insulted by the question and you have half a mind to remind him of what he said to you on the phone, but the heat in his eyes dies out as quickly as it appeared. "Really need a hug, mama. Please, hug," he says, the last part muffled by your chest as he keeps his face buried into it.
You held him tight and murmured 'I love you' countless times, while he hummed in response and groaned quietly as you ran your fingers through his hair.
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