#but not many people use as many words to do it as i do lol

[megamindsecretlair]

Said I Wouldn't, Part 2 - Final

Pairing: Dad!Terry Richmond x Virgin!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. Cursing, teasing (fem receiving), oral (female receiving), PIV, reader is tied up, virginity loss, mentions of Christian religious themes, breeding kink if you squint. All consensual. Sorry if I missed some.

Summary: Babysitting for Terry had its perks. You were able to see his gorgeous ass every night before heading off to your own house next door. But you thought your life was over when Terry caught you in his bedroom. The long-awaited talk clears up the air, but like magnets, it’s not long before you find yourself at his mercy. It’s not such a bad place to be.

Word Count: 5,680k

AO3 Link | Part 1

A/N: I...refuse to apologize for this one. I am so over the moon feral for this one. Like I make myself sick. LOL. I truly hope you enjoy! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You wrung your fingers one by one as you hovered beside your front door. Terry texted you earlier in the day to tell you that Troy would be spending the night at a friend’s house. You weren’t sure what that actually meant for the talk you were supposed to have.

Was it good news? That he wanted to explore the arrangement more? Become more of a full service nanny? Because not gonna lie, you were totally here for it. Or was he still going to give you “that talk”, that said you couldn’t do this again and it wasn’t fair to Troy who looked up to you both? Was he trying to ensure that you weren’t going to cry, scream, and throw up where Troy could see? 

There were too many variables and now you regretted telling him that you wanted to speak today. You should’ve thrown on your big girl panties and talked then. Talk after you were begging to be fucked. Begging. God. That man had you begging for dick. 

You wore your virginity as a source of pride at this point. While everyone told you horror stories about their first time or were so sex crazed that they were keying men’s cars, you saw your virginity as some rebellious act. Perhaps it was a way to feel empowered by your decision as opposed to beholden to it by circumstance. In any case, it was something you chose to keep over and over again.

The truth of the matter was that people expected big girls to accept whatever gremlin limped onto their doorstep. As if you weren’t allowed to have standards. As if you weren’t supposed to love your body enough to not treat it like trash and let everyone in. The body is a temple but only for certain girls. Yours had to be a McDonald’s drive through at three am in the hood. Fuck that.

Your sandals slapped against the hardwood floor as you tapped your foot waiting for Terry’s car to pull into the driveway. The anticipation was slowly killing you, bit by bit. Questions ran through your mind and sure, you could come up with possible answers. But after being caught yesterday, it was quite clear that you were terrible in an emergency. Your flight or fight response was all fucked up. 

The familiar sound of Terry’s car rumbled closer until he pulled his truck into the driveway. You peeked out of the window and watched as he got Troy out of the car and went inside. 

You checked your phone but Terry hadn’t said anything else. You sighed and tapped your phone against your thigh. You hadn’t known what to wear to something like this. A skirt to show you were open for business? A dress so it was less obvious? Pants so that he didn’t think that was all you wanted? Decisions, decisions. 

You opted for another bodycon dress. Fuck it. It’d become your Wednesday night outfit so it may as well work today as well. This time it was a deep navy blue that lowkey made you feel like a mermaid.

The biggest decision weighing heavily on you was the fact that you were about to hand over your virginity, if Terry was open to it. Willingly too. Sure, you knew the man for close to a year now and had plenty of nights where you stayed for dinner. But this was…serious. 

Perhaps too serious. You carried your virgin card for so long and once you spent it…that was it. There was no returning it. It should frighten you. Right now, you were mostly nervous. You liked and respected Terry. Felt safe enough with him to allow him to finger you like there was no tomorrow.

Your body flushed with heat remembering how tightly his hand gripped yours. You sighed and leaned against the wall, remembering the huge bulge in his shorts as he rubbed it against your ass. The deft way his thick fingers played with your pussy as if he were stroking a kitty. 

The slam of Terry’s door tore you away from your thoughts as you watched Terry get back in his truck with Troy. He backed out of the driveway and your heart jumped in your throat. 

Was it like this for other girls? Did they have all this anticipation when they lost their virginity? After a while, you stopped asking your friends questions. Stopped wanting to know every detail because you felt creepy asking. But there weren’t exactly books you  could read up on the matter. You could watch all the porn in the world, touch yourself all you wanted, but it was different being with a man. Especially one as sexy as Terry. 

Truth be told, you just didn’t want to fuck it up. 

Your phone buzzed and you swiped it open to your conversation with Terry. 

Terry (Troy’s Dad): Dropped off Troy. Be there in 10.

You: Okay, chilling in my room. Let me know when you’re here.

Liar, liar. You were too nervous to sit, eat, or burp. You were working yourself up so you took a few deep breaths and waited for Terry to arrive. 

Ten minutes sharp, Terry’s truck pulled into the driveway. You shrieked and backed away from the door. A minute later, Terry rang your doorbell and you hopped in place. This was it. You were either about to get fucked or put down like Old Yeller. 

You walked to the front door and opened it. Terry smirked when he saw you. He wore a black polo shirt with the first button loose and black pants. The short sleeves cut into his thick muscles, veins running down his arms and his tattoos on bright display. 

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” you said. 

He jerked his head so you closed and locked the door behind you and followed him over to his porch. Terry opened the door and allowed you to enter first. He turned on lights as he entered behind you and you walked forward, pulling your arms behind your back so he wouldn’t see how nervous you were.

You were an adult. You could handle rejection. Even though you really wanted it to be the opposite. 

“Have a seat. Want water or somethin’?” He asked. 

“Naw, I’m good,” you said. If you ate or drank anything right now, you would hurl. You made a beeline to the couch, somehow the safest spot in the house. Sitting down, you pretended that this was just another day. Right.

There was nothing routine about the way Terry watched you. His eyes didn’t miss a beat as you settled onto the couch. Terry rubbed the back of his head before he came to stand beside you.

Instead of sitting on the couch, Terry scooted in front of you and sat on the coffee table. His legs trapped yours and you stiffened, noticing that you had nowhere to run. No way to escape. He managed to cage you without you even having a clue. 

“First, I wanna apologize,” Terry said. 

You stiffened your shoulders so they wouldn’t drop with disappointment. Ah. That conversation. One you were all too familiar with so you nodded your head and kept your face neutral. You weren’t going to embarrass yourself. Not even for the likes of Terry Richmond.

“You really don’t have to,” you said. Really. You weren’t in the mood to listen to how this was all a mistake, he should’ve known better, he deeply regrets his actions…

“Stop,” Terry said. 

You lifted your eyes to his striking ones and he smirked. “It’s not what you’re thinking. I want to apologize because we should’ve talked first before I attacked you.” 

You took a deep breath. “You don’t know what I’m thinking,” you said, poking your bottom lip out. It was exactly what you were thinking and you resent the fact that you were so easy to read. “And you didn’t attack me.” 

Terry only smirked. Bastard. You wanted to get into a battle of wills to calm your racing heart and your sweaty palms. But he was too mature. And you were too in love. 

Terry leaned down and grabbed your left leg, pulling it into his lap. You gasped as he pulled off your sandal. He pulled up your dress until he exposed your calf and then he started to massage it. 

You hummed and sunk further into his couch, letting his magic fingers weave a spell into your skin. His fingers dug into your muscles and you rolled your eyes back, face scrunched with pleasure. 

“Had I known…shit, I don’t know. I had been drawn to you for a while but didn’t want to overstep,” he said.

You licked your lips and nodded. “I get it. Have you seen yourself in the mirror?” 

Terry chuckled. “Only every day,” he said.

“Never thought I’d be jealous of a mirror,” you said and grinned. 

Terry pressed into your calf and it made you moan. You caught yourself and hid your face. Terry chuckled and stopped. “Don’t hide from me,” he said. 

You sighed and lowered your hands. “You’re impossible to stay cool around,” you said.

He chuckled and went back to massaging your calf. His fingers were so long and big, you watched as he kneaded your leg until you were indistinguishable from jelly. He lowered your leg and then picked up your left leg, removing your sandal, and went to work with his massage. 

“You’re impossible to forget,” he said and flicked his hazel eyes to yours. His fingers continued to turn you into an absolute puddle, your panties growing damp with each dig of his thumbs. “I look forward to seeing you when I’m on my way home. There’s days I wake up and nearly put a hole through my bed because I’m so hard.”

“Shit,” you sighed. How was this your life? How was the sexiest man in the world telling you that he was distracted by you? You, who’d rather lounge in PJ’s all day and snack than eat a proper meal?

“I meant what I said. That you drive me up the wall,” he said. 

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. “Does…my being a virgin bother you? I’d completely understand…” 

“Doesn’t bother me at all,” he cut you off. 

You nodded. Cool. Cool. Everybody’s cool. Except you were ready to jump into the nearest volcano. “I really didn’t mean to snoop in your room. You’ve seen you, but I wanted to know more. I wanted to know more of you. Not just that you’re Troy’s dad,” you said. Your heart thumped in your throat and threatened to clog up your vocal chords. But if you were going to ask this man to knock the sonic coins out of you, then you had to be grown enough to communicate.

Terry nodded. “I get that. Find anything interesting in my room?” He asked. 

You took a deep breath. There was not a chance in hell that you were going to fess up to stealing his shirt. But the way he asked, the way he tilted his head, the permanent smirk on his lush, pink lips… Your guilt made you think he knew but you didn’t know for certain and you didn’t need another reason for him to toss you on your ass. So you shook your head. “Only confirmed my suspicions…that you’re an old ass man.”

Terry erupted into a rare, full belly laugh. His fingers danced on your calf and you giggled with him, loving the way his face transformed from a serious robot to a more open expression. “I’m an old ass man?”

You nodded your head. “Anyone who reads Clive Cussler is an old ass man, sorry. I don’t make the rules,” you said and shrugged your shoulders. 

Terry lowered your leg to the floor. He adjusted himself on the coffee table, widening his stance so that he could grip your knees and spread them. Your lips parted, watching the determined expression on his gorgeous face. 

He drew your dress further up your legs, so reminiscent of yesterday that you wondered if it was a secret turn on for him. He exposed your legs, pooling the dress at the top of your knees. Your sweaty thighs tingled and your breaths grew rapid. You didn’t know where to look. His hands or his eyes. 

“So if I’m an old man, what does that make you?” He asked. He walked his fingers across your thighs, pressing down in random spots. Sometimes he touched a tender knot and it made you moan. He got closer and closer to your pussy and then he flicked his eyes to yours. 

He paused, waiting for his answer. You took a deep breath to release that pent up anticipation. You didn’t know what came next. Only that you would cease to be unless he continued to touch you. Unless he kept going and never stopped. 

“Someone with an old man fetish,” you said. 

Terry chuckled and then continued his slow torture, sliding his hands to the hot core of you. His thumbs traced your pussy lips outside of your panties and you moaned, biting your lip. 

“I’m a gentleman but nothing about these fucking thoughts are holy,” Terry breathed. 

“If I let you off the hook for the night…ahh,” you moaned when Terry pressed into your clit. 

“It’s your first time,” he whispered.

“Pretend it’s not. I won’t break,” you whispered back. 

Terry stood up and grabbed you by the wrists to pull you up with him. He moved lightning fast, so fast you didn’t have a chance to blink before he crushed his lips to yours. You sighed, rolling with it, as his lips moved expertly over yours. Heavenly. 

God. You made your peace with being single and a virgin for a long time. Thought you would be well into your 40s until you gave in and settled. How fucking wrong you were. How could you ever go back to your existence now that you knew the taste of his lips? The feel of his hands caging your face and keeping you close? 

Terry pulled away with one last lick to your bottom lip. He rubbed his nose against yours. “Trust me, okay?” 

You nodded. “I trust you,” you promised. 

Terry pulled you by the hand to follow. Your dress dropped down to your ankles as you walked behind him back to the scene of the crime. You ought to feel some type of way, but for now, you were just turned on. Turned on, nervous as hell, excited. There were too many emotions trying to contain themselves in your body and you weren’t sure what to focus on. Your mind spun with..fuck, just about everything. Too many to name.

You focused on him. Just him. His large hand in yours, the clothes on his back, the broad sweep of his shoulders, and his short haircut. You focused on the long length of his body as he moved and that round, juicy ass you just wanted to take a bite of. If it were an apple, it’d be the one Adam and Eve risked heaven over. 

Terry pulled you into his room and then closed the door, though there was no one else there. Still, it felt more intimate to do so like he was pulling you into his lair and you loved every second of it. 

He stopped in the middle of the room and turned around to face you. “You can say no, okay? If I ever do anything you don’t like,” he said.

You smirked. “I begged you to fuck me yesterday. I think it’s safe to say there’s almost nothing I wouldn’t like,” you said.

“Almost nothing?” He asked. He stepped closer, caging your face with his hands once more. He kissed your forehead and then trailed kisses down your face until his warm lips found yours. You kissed him, licking his bottom lip. He groaned and closed what little distance there was between your bodies, slipping his tongue into your mouth. 

“I’m not telling,” you said and giggled.

“Oh, it’s like that?” He asked. 

You nodded and your lips brushed against his. “Yeah, it’s like that,” you said. 

Terry grinned, showing off his enchanting smile. He turned you and pushed you towards his bed and then helped you out of your dress. He helped take off your bra and panties, teasing you as he revealed your body. 

He gripped and played with your titties and nipples, rolling them between his fingers and pinching here and there. Tingles slipped down your thighs with each swipe of his tongue on your body, teeth on your flesh, and fingers on your skin. He stepped away briefly and then returned with a crimson scarf. You giggled, it looked just like the one you lost a few months ago. 

“On the bed,” Terry commanded, his deep voice making you snap to attention. He kissed the back of your neck. You peeked over your shoulder and smiled, climbing onto the bed achingly slow. 

He slapped your ass to make you move faster and you giggled, scooting to the middle of the bed. You flipped over and Terry kneeled on the bed and waved for you to present your hands. 

“Okay?” He asked.

Was it okay? Was this man serious? You were a virgin but you weren’t crazy. Of course it was fucking okay. This was only your biggest fucking fantasy come to life. Well…maybe top 3. You did have a disturbing fantasy of wanting him to grab you by the neck and give you back shots until you screamed for mercy and he ignored you. Listen, your imagination was all you had, okay?!

“Okay,” you said and nodded. 

He made quick work of tying the scarf around your wrists in a complicated knot. He didn’t leave you much slack between your hands and you tested the knots but it held firm. “Where the hell did you even learn how to do this?” You asked.

“Marine Corps,” he said with a wink. He stepped back from the bed and then gave you a show. He gripped the ends of his shirt and took it off in one fell swoop. His abs moved and stretched, showing off all that hard work he put in the gym. Fuck, he was huge. 

His arms bulged and you grew even more wet just watching his body move. He tossed his shirt on the floor and then tilted his head while his hands went to his belt. His fingers moved quickly and soon, his belt slipped through the loops and you gasped. The things he could do to you with that belt….

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” you said.

Terry’s smirk curved his lips as he unzipped his pants and shoved it and his briefs off of his narrow hips. His dick bobbed as he moved, a veritable one-eyed monster slapping against his inner thigh. His balls hung heavy, huge, swinging as he stepped out of one pant leg and then the other. 

Your mouth dropped open as you stared…and stared. What the hell were you thinking?! Your first time and you had to find the biggest, largest, most humongous dick to take? 

“It’ll fit,” Terry said, not bothering to hide his amusement at your expression. 

“Are you sure? ‘Cause…damn,” you said. 

“Want to back out?” 

“No, no, no, no. I…you have a very big dick, sir,” you said. You couldn’t take your eyes off of it. You knew a lot about anatomy but apparently not enough. This had to be like those BBC porno videos you sometimes took a gander at. It always seemed like the men were going to break their partners in half. Other times, the women took all that big dick and you were always left wondering how in the world. 

You were about to find out. 

Terry chuckled and then kneeled onto the bed, climbing on until he was able to plant himself between your legs. He hummed and tilted his head, assessing the wet state of you, as he looked between your pussy and your face.

This was the closest you ever allowed a man and you expected to tense up. Shut down. Close off. But you just wanted more. You wanted him. 

“If I do my job correctly, you won’t worry about that,” he said.

You took a deep breath as a fresh wave of desire passed over your skin. Fuck. He was killing you. And he hadn’t even done anything yet. “Big words,” you said, unable to resist.

Terry leaned onto his elbows and then got comfortable. You watched every inch of his body move into position. Since he was on his stomach, you got to see the expanse of his back and the curve of his ass. He lifted one leg on the bed and let his other leg stretch out behind him. 

Fuck. 

Terry gripped your thighs and pushed them further apart. You cried out, but Terry only pushed more until you were fully bare. You did clean up your pubic hair, but still…uneasiness creeped in. Did you…smell right for him? Should you have cleaned up more? 

Terry’s thumbs pushed into your inner thighs as he brought his face closer to your pussy. He took a deep breath and then sighed with a deep moan. His eyes were trained on yours as he opened his mouth and let his tongue prove you wrong.

The rush of warmth from his breath dueled with your cooling essence and you jerked as his tongue pushed through your pussy lips. His tongue searched for your clit and when he found it, he teased the little nub out from hiding.

“Oh…fuck…” you moaned. No wonder women wanted that. Fuck. You weren’t going to be able to live without it. You’d dream about this. Wake up in a cold sweat, body aching to be ate out just like this. 

Terry’s perfect hazel eyes finally closed as he moaned and feasted you with abandon. He ate sloppily, messily, the slurp and suckling near echoing in the room. Your body tingled and jerked as licked and licked. 

“Shit, shit, oh fuck,” you said. You couldn’t stop talking. Couldn’t stop moaning. You see now why he had to tie your hands because you were ready to push his damn head away. He was too good at this. Not that you really had anything to compare it too, but fuck, you would never allow some mediocre man between your legs. 

It had to be Terry. It had to always be Terry. He moaned and his shoulders dipped. The bed jerked and you looked down to see him practically grinding into the bed. 

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you said.

Terry moaned. “Taste so fuckin’ good,” he said between your legs. He flattened his tongue against your pussy and dragged it from entrance to clit and back again. You closed your eyes and rolled your hips. 

Terry’s hands on your thighs increased pressure, holding you still, while he devoured your pussy. Pools of your desire leaked from your needy hole and your fingers dug into the scarf. Your finger caught on something but you were too far gone to pay attention.

Not when his mouth was glued to your pussy. Not while his tongue flicked against your clit. Your pussy throbbed in time with your heartbeat as he used that masterful tongue to bring you closer and closer to the edge. 

Your belly flipped and your moans turned to pathetic stutters as he locked in, finding a rhythm that had you ready to sing church hymns. “Terry, fuck, Terry, please,” you begged. He had to slow down. He had to ease up. 

Terry didn’t say a word. He just growled and kept going, massaging his thumbs into your thighs. He leaned back to slurp and swallow and then he latched right back on. 

“Fuck!” You moaned. You threw your head back and came on his tongue, thighs shaking. This was infinitely more powerful than anything you managed to achieve on your own. It was like the clouds breaking apart and seeing heaven for a brief moment. Enough to kiss the pearly gates before you were snatched back by Terry continuing to lick you while you came back down.

Your legs were weak and spent as he slowed his licks. Your fingers tore at the scarf even though there was no way to escape. No way to run. Terry moaned one last time before finally letting go of your poor, abused clit. It throbbed as if it missed him just that fast. 

A spit chain still connected his mouth to your pussy and you watched as he licked his glistening lips. He used the back of his hand to wipe the rest of it away, plus whatever spilled to his chin. Your head flopped back onto the bed. “Fuck.”

Terry chuckled. “No more shit to talk?” He asked, out of breath. 

Your fingers still played with the scarf as you looked towards the ceiling. Part of his headboard was in view but hell, your mind was still back in heaven. And he wanted you to answer? Well, you weren’t one to back down. So you took a few shuddering breaths. 

“I can’t even try right now, to be honest,” you said. You had a laundry list of shit you could talk about to diffuse the situation. Jokes you could pull from your back pocket. But you were too damn spent. 

Terry got off of the bed and then circled around to his nightstand. He withdrew a fresh box of condoms and you dazedly watched him. He cast his eyes towards you. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy,” he murmured. 

You giggled. “I mean, I’m still jealous of your mirror,” you said.

Terry chuckled while he grabbed a condom and went to work opening the package. You lazily fiddled with the scarf, not wanting him to see how nervous you were. Part of him was right though. He ate you out so well, you weren’t even scared of that monster tapping against his thigh. 

Terry climbed back on the bed once he had the condom fully on his erect dick. You watched him as your finger caught on something jagged and hard. You brought the scarf to look at and noticed the same burn pattern that had been on your scarf. The same scarf you lost…

Terry climbed further onto the bed, grabbing your legs to pull you into position. He placed your legs around his hips and then lined himself up, getting the condom wet with your juices.

“Terry…” you said, looking between the scarf, his hands, and that dick.

“Hm?” He asked. 

“Is this my scarf?” You asked.

Terry cocked his head and a smirk slowly spread across his lips. “You left it once and I couldn’t find it in me to give it back. I figured it was only fair. I know you took my shirt,” he said.

“Wha-”

Terry pushed in just as you were about to ask your question. He managed to slip in way further than you were expecting and your belly caved in, trying to get used to him. To his size. To the delicious, burning stretch. Like yes, it fucking hurt. But not as much as you thought it would. 

You moved your hands against his chest, pushing at him, but he held still, no longer moving. “You have to breathe,” he said. 

You forgot how to breathe. Your lungs no longer worked. There was a dick inside you. Terry’s dick was inside you. And fuck…you lied earlier. This was heaven. It was a little hotter than you imagined, but you could forgive the temperature as long as he stayed inside you like this. 

Terry called your name and leaned down until his stormy oceanic eyes swam into view. “Breathe. I’m not gon’ tell you again.”

You nodded and took a shallow breath. You took a few more until you were able to take a full one and then another. Your thighs shook around his hips. 

“Talk to me,” he commanded. 

“I’m okay. I’m okay. Keep going. Please, fucking move,” you said. 

Terry leaned down into a push up and pressed his lips to yours. He withdrew and then pushed slowly back into you, working his way inside. Fuck. He was right, he did fit. But only just. 

His kisses were nice distractions from the slight burn and pain, but it was more because you were still tense and less because he was doing anything wrong. He just felt too damn good. 

“Fuck,” Terry moaned, breaking away from kissing you. He dropped his sweaty forehead to your shoulder as he worked himself in further, deeper, stretching you to the point of no return. 

You shivered as you moaned. There was no way you could walk away from this. No way you could return to normal. Not after he slapped those heavy balls against your ass and buried deep down to the hilt. It was like every stroke claimed a piece of your soul. Every moan tied your body to his. 

“T-Terry,” you said, a bite of panic reaching your own ears. It seemed way too intense. You wanted to ask if it was normal. You weren’t going to be that girl. Like you were going to obsess over him simply because he was your first. You knew you would never forget this. But with the way you were feeling…

“This pussy is mine,” Terry growled and then he bit your shoulder. 

You cried out and jerked, tears springing to your eyes as he was able to move more freely. Slip more easily. Leave your entrance completely, leave you feeling downright empty, and then he’d slam right back into the hilt. 

Tears spilled down the sides of your face, right down to the bed beneath your head. You moaned as your pussy throbbed on his dick.

“Don’t stop,” he begged, increasing his strokes. 

You throbbed again and again and listened as Terry’s moans turned wild, haphazard, and his strokes grew less precise. 

“Mine. Mine,” he chanted, low under his breath and some type of demon seemed to take hold. He slammed his hips into yours. You wanted to touch him. Claw at him. The only thing you could do was grip his hips with your thighs and welcome him in. Accept him in a place no one had been allowed in before. 

“Tell me it’s mine,” he said. He leaned up and kissed you sloppily, teeth clashing against each other as he stroked deep. He moved his lips to your jaw, to your neck, and then to the top of your chest.

Your belly flipped as if he were literally pulling the orgasm from whatever deep well he managed to find. Your moans increased, high pitched, and near screaming. 

“It’s yours,” you breathed. “Fuck, it’s all yours. It’s only yours. It’s fucking yours!” You screamed as you fell apart on his dick. 

You cried and whimpered, body shaking from another powerful orgasm. Like it was the final seal tying you two together. Surely, that wasn’t normal? 

Fuck normal. You were all his. “Mine,” you whispered. 

Terry cupped your cheek and pressed his forehead to yours. “Yours,” he said and then groaned, stroking a few more times before he cursed as he came. His dick throbbed and you felt the warm heat of him inside but the condom still separated you two.

You wondered what it would be like to be fully claimed. To have no barrier between you. Nothing to keep you apart as he bathed your insides with his hot, thick cum. You wanted it where it belonged. Buried deep inside you. Pregnancy be damned. You wanted it all. 

Terry groaned as he finished and he huffed, leaning his weight off of you so he didn’t crush you to pieces. 

You were both sweaty, gross messes. You looked at Terry and he smiled at you. “Okay?” He asked.

“I mean, I’m probably not going to walk for the next week…or two. But yes, I’m okay,” you said. 

He chuckled. He slowly withdrew from you and you groaned, instantly feeling sore and empty as he left you. Now you knew why you always waited. Because fuck. If it wasn’t like that you would have never been satisfied. Never knew how intense it could be. 

“And I meant that shit too,” Terry said, climbing off of the bed to dispose of the condom. “You’re mine. I can’t explain it. But if that scares you…”

“It doesn’t,” you rushed to say. It was intense and scary in a way you hadn’t prepared for, but he didn’t scare you. Belonging to him didn’t scare you. It was perhaps why every interaction felt so charged with him. There was a pressure being around him this past year, like an overfilled cup that could spill over at any moment. 

“You’re mine.”

Terry grinned and left the room, returning with a warm washcloth. “Oh!” You gasped as the warm cloth soothed some of the ache between your legs.

“C’mon. We’ll take a bath. It’ll help,” he said. He untied your scarf from your hands and rubbed circulation back into it. It still tripped you out that he kept it. 

He helped you to the bath and he ran the water while you talked about nothing really. Just this feeling now that the bubble popped. As if the universe itself had been trying to push you two together and you finally listened. 

As you took the bath with him, you discussed how you would keep it quiet for now. Let Terry divorce his wife, let Troy get used to the idea of you two dating, let you get your degree. 

It was all very adult. All very mature. But with his thickening dick swelling against your ass, you were anything but mature as you enjoyed each other over and over again. After all, you belonged to each other now. Time was no longer a factor to you. 

The end.

WHEW. I'll see myself out. The Secret Terry Richmond Files | Part 1

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[corinthianism]

SOMETHIN' STUPID || VIKTOR

pairing: viktor (arcane)/fem!reader additional tags: viktor's pov, viktor is a certified yearner, maybe ooc, unrequited love that's actually requited, no physical descriptions for reader other than having dainty fingers and being shorter than viktor, hopefully correct use of czech pet names, barely proofread synopsis: the ever-brilliant viktor finds himself drowning in feelings for his colleague, so what does he do? bury them, of course.... until he learns that love is not something you can just ignore.

author's note: hello everyone! it's been a long, long while since i've written anything so i thought i would try and see if the ol' writing machine (aka my brain) still works lol. this is more of a blurb than anything so please go easy on me. also trying out something new by writing in present tense (lmk if it flows well!) viktor might be a little ooc but i'm still trying to fully understand him. hopefully my characterization of him in future fics (if any) will be more faithful to the viktor you're all familiar with. anyways, enjoy 2k words of viktor yearning like CRAZY 🫶🏼

Viktor doesn’t know how much more of this he can take. How many more times would your eyes meet from across the room at one of those parties he never really wanted to attend in the first place? How many more times would your fingers brush in the early morning, when he accepts the steaming sweetmilk that you so kindly got for him? How many more times would your laughter intermingle softly late into the night, when exhaustion took over and your writing started to look more like chicken scratch rather than letters?

He might just go insane.

How was it possible to want someone this much? Maybe he’s experienced something like this before, in tiny amounts, for people he hasn’t thought about in years. Deep down, he knows that even if he added all of those fleeting romances together, it would still only be a fraction of what he feels now. For you.

He can’t pinpoint that exact moment in time when everything changed. There were definitely a few of those moments that stood out more than others, but none of those instances were the catalyst for whatever this is. But they certainly don’t help his case.

A few words of encouragement.

A book recommendation.

A smile— so soft, so intimate, he briefly allows himself to believe that it was meant just for him. Something precious for him to keep, to be his and his alone.

In the dim light of the lab, he finds you asleep on your desk. The humming glow of the hex crystals leaves you blanketed in a gentle blue. He’s heard tales of this before, from when he bothered to listen to such things. It would happen just like this, they said: his heart would beat so fast, it threatened to leave his chest entirely. His skin would burn with something unmistakable, a feeling that left one in a state of simultaneous confusion and clarity.

He feels it all now and he finds it polarizing. It’s too much and not enough. He chases and runs away from it at the same time. A part of him wants it to stop, to go away and leave him forever for the sake of ending this game he’s painfully losing… but a greater part of him hopes that it will grow and grow to the point where maybe you’ll notice and do something about it. His palms get a little sweaty just thinking about making the first move. Symptoms of a lovesick fool.

The soft sound of your breathing quiets the pounding of his heart, prevents the wretched feelings from overflowing and spilling everywhere. Even if it was just for tonight. Tonight, he keeps his lips sealed, fights to keep himself from reaching for you. It would be unbecoming of him.

His eyes land on you again, observing how your head rested on your arms. Understanding hits him then, why you’re so bothered by seeing him stay at the lab so late that he ends up falling asleep. That position couldn’t have been comfortable. Of course, he knew that from experience, but it’s your comfort he’s thinking about right now. He wonders if this is what you felt whenever you woke him up and implored him to go home.

Surely not.

No, he can’t wrap his head around you possibly viewing that act the same way he does. Not when he wants to bottle this moment, wants to capture the preciousness of seeing you like this. It just can’t be the same.

So can you really blame him if when he finally rests a hand on your shoulder to wake you gently, he lets it linger there for just a little longer? An infinitesimal piece of time that he claims for himself. He never thought himself to be the sentimental type, but he cherishes it all: he cherishes the way you blink slowly as you returned to the waking world, and your tired murmur of his name that makes his chest tighten.

It’s just a wisp of a moment, never really tangible enough for him to hold in his hands, but he cherishes it all the same. It’s burned in his memory, in his very being, the same way everything else about you is. Every piece of you that you so generously gifted him.

“You should go home, darling.”

The word slips past his lips before he could even think about it. But he allows himself this one indulgence. He can’t help it. He’s always been a bit greedy.

“What time is it?” you ask.

“Far too late for you to be here,” he answers.

You huff out a breath of a laugh, “That’s rich coming from you.”

He finds himself smiling. How does someone manage to be so endlessly endearing without even trying?

It takes an embarrassing amount of effort for him to pull back his hand from your shoulder. Had you been more awake and had the room been brighter, he might’ve schooled his expression into something more neutral. Something to hide the unbridled adoration in his eyes. He doesn’t do that now. With the shield of darkness to protect him, he lets the mask come off. He lets his affection for you wash over him in waves. It would’ve been liberating, if it wasn’t for the tiny detail that that affection was unrequited.

Still, he says your name with utmost care. “You must go home and rest.”

To his surprise, you listen. You mumble a tired "okay” and gather your belongings, slipping on your coat. “You should go home, too, Vik.”

“I will. Soon. I just need to finish a few things.”

Your face twists into a frown, “No, you’ll do that tomorrow.” Before he can interject, you speak up again, “Just… come with me? It’s late and I don’t want to walk home alone.”

His brain refuses to reconcile with what his eyes see: the trepidation written all over your features, the way you clutch the lapel of your coat just a little tighter. He knows it’s a trap, you just want to get him out of the lab but how could he possibly reject the promise of a few more minutes with you? The chance to pretend, even if it’s just for those precious few minutes, that he was taking you home as someone more than a colleague? More than a friend? Only a fool would say no to you. Or perhaps he was a fool either way. He really must be going insane.

He says yes almost instantly.

It’s cold in Piltover tonight. It makes his bad leg ache more than it already does, and so his strides are a bit more careful. He doesn’t say anything about how you also slow down to match his pace but he appreciates your considerate gesture nonetheless.

The moon hangs in the sky big and bright, making everything around you seem softer. It’s picturesque. Almost romantic. He tries his best not to entertain that thought for much longer. Instead, he focuses on what you say to him so he could ignore the traitorous thoughts his mind conjures up and the way his knees were protesting because of the cold.

Conversation with you is easy— terrifyingly so. It was one of the first things he noticed about you when you first met.

Early on in the process of finding sponsors and securing funding, him and Jayce quickly realized that they needed help. Yes, Jayce is a friend of the Kiramman family. Yes, Viktor is Heimerdinger’s protégé, but they’re academics. At the end of the day, Jayce’s warm personality could only do so much when he was still greatly inexperienced with navigating these more political spaces and for all of his experience and perceptiveness, Viktor knows he’s no good at sweet-talking sponsors, either.

Enter, you.

Caitlyn Kiramman was the one to recommend you, her former tutor. Jayce was quick to back her up, remembering that you were also Academy alumni; a particularly strategic businesswoman. Viktor was hesitant at first, knowing that a third party could complicate things. Hextech was born out of the dream to help people. He worried that bringing business and politics (even though he knew it was necessary) into the mix would warp Hextech into something it wasn’t. Jayce convinced him to take a gamble, and it seemed that the potential of Hextech was enough to bring you back to Piltover from your travels across Runeterra.

It took him a while to warm up to you. You weren’t nobility, but most definitely well-off. Even more so after your years as a business consultant to organizations all over the continent. He respected you, sure, but Viktor had a hard time trusting someone who was so… privileged. How could you possibly understand how important it was that Hextech remained a beacon of hope for the less fortunate? Perhaps it was naive of him to think that way, as much as he hated to admit it.

But true to your reputation, you delivered exactly what they needed. You bridged the gap between Viktor and Jayce’s hopes for Hextech and the support they needed from sponsors, protecting them and their inventions from being taken advantage of.

Suffice to say, you earned his admiration.

Never in a million years would Viktor imagine that you would captivate his entire being, too.

It was daunting. Scary, really. Especially now that he’s beginning to understand the full extent of his affections. Years and years of burying that softness from his youth deep beneath the armor of his intellect— all that hard work diminished by a pretty girl. Gods, he really is just a man. Not even that. With you, he feels like a highschooler with a crush. It’s painful. Downright humiliating. But he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not when you link your arm around his, laughing at something he said. Was he really that funny? Probably not. He’s just happy to make you laugh.

“You don’t have to be nice about it. Salo is a grade-A asshole,” you grinned. “We both know it. If I have to spend another dinner with him present I might actually stab a fork in my eyes.”

He smiles, “Ah, but that wouldn’t save you from his incessant chatter.”

“I’ll stab the fork into my ears too."

“I might just follow after you,” he hums, “you’ll have to check if it works first, though.”

Your friendship blossomed when your visits to the lab became less for work and more for leisure. You wanted to visit, wanted to learn more about what he and Jayce were working on and why. Everything after that was just dominoes. You, with all your fiery passion and sharp wit, have become a permanent fixture in his life and now? He could hardly imagine life without you in it. You're one of his dearest friends and, much to his dismay, that makes his current predicament even more challenging than it already is.

Before he knew it, the two of you were standing in front of your apartment building— one of the most luxurious in Piltover. He could only imagine how much it cost, though he knew for certain that your penthouse probably barely made a dent in your wealth. He’s gotten somewhat used to your differing lifestyles, but he’s never completely able to not marvel at it. A gust of wind kissed his skin once more as he turned to look at you.

“This is me,” you say, gloved hands in your pocket and your lovely, lovely face framed by your hair and ruby red scarf. He recognizes it as the gift he gave you a year ago now. A spur-of-the-moment purchase on one of the rare occasions he was actually outside Academy grounds. He remembers thinking that the color would look nice on you. He was right. He finds himself holding onto the seconds before he has to go. “Thank you for walking me home, Viktor.”

“Of course,” he nods but the calmness of his voice don’t match the way his eyes bore into yours. “It’s only proper.”

“Proper?”

“Yes. Proper. I am a gentleman, after all.”

His accent comes out thicker, emphasizing the words more than he means to.

“I didn’t take you for someone who cared much about propriety,” you tease.

“Is it because I’m from the undercity?” he deadpans and he relishes in the look of horror on your face that replaces your grin.

“What? No!” you exclaim, smacking his arm when you realize he’s just joking. “You. Are. Impossible.”

A laugh bubbles out of his chest, “Oh, that’s cruel. You would hit a defenseless man? How heartless.”

“Shut up. That cane of yours is a weapon of war. Don’t think I haven’t seen you smack Jayce with it.”

“If I hit him with it, he probably deserved it.”

“Poor Jayce,” you laugh as well. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

Viktor smiles.

“I do not think you could even if you tried, lásko."

He freezes and so do you. The laughter—the music—that you shared for the briefest of moments was thoroughly snuffed out, leaving you both in a silence that threatens to swallow him whole. He didn’t mean to do that. He didn’t mean to speak so gently, but there is not a part of Viktor that could withhold this sincerity from you. Specks of the truth, of the confession he’s barely managed to wrangle into submission and lock away somewhere dark and unreachable.

He pulls back on instinct. He’s shown too much, said too much. You don’t move. He is petrified.

Your eyes widen and he sees his reflection on them, staring back at him. This is it, he thinks. He’s crossed the line and he’ll have to deal with the crushing blow of your rejection.

You manage to compose yourself and what you say next is… well, unexpected. Your tone is light, clearing the air and allowing him to breathe again.

“Do you say that to every woman or am I a special case? I’d hate to be part of a roster.”

He’s taken aback, but he feels a weight lifted off his shoulders. You are a miracle in his eyes. Washing away his worries with a kind smile and a few choice words. He laughs again and this time, he doesn’t stop himself from speaking the truth. It’s now or never.

“Surely you know by now that you are singular,” he whispers, his accent a pleasant drawl in your ears. He takes a step forward. It is gravity that pulls him in, not the Earth’s, but yours. A force that he can’t help but be drawn to. Not that he would ever dare to resist it now that his fear has shrunk down to something a little less debilitating.

His face is inches from yours. You don’t move. He gets a little braver.

“I do not appreciate your implication that I would pay attention to anyone else,” his voice is low, honest. “As if anyone could compare to you. As if you don’t hold my very being in the palm of your hand. Miláčku, I adore you. Don’t you know that?”

There is a hint of pleading in his tone, begging you to understand the full scope of his feelings from those few words so that he wouldn’t unravel before you, a bundle of nerves and petals the same shade as your scarf.

“Say something. Please,” his fear rears its ugly head once more. “Say the word and we’ll pretend this never happened. I will remain your colleague and nothing more. A friend, if you would allow it.”

“What if I don’t want that?” you ask, your own voice a little shaky with uncertainty. Maybe it was also fear. That, he’s not quite sure.

Viktor doesn’t fully trust what he’s hearing, thinks it to be a figment of his deluded imagination, but his heart is screaming at him now to push forward.

“What is it you want, lásko? Tell me and it shall be yours.”

You're almost breathless when you finally respond, “You. I want you."

The world stills. Time itself screeches to a halt. There is only you and him, together in this moment that he knows will be woven into the threads of his soul. He has never known euphoria quite like this. He can’t name it yet, doesn’t know if this is love. He can only hope that it will be.

When he looks into your eyes again, he does not see his own terrified reflection. He just sees you. And the sheer intensity of your gaze that rivals his own. Have you always looked at him that way? Was he just too blind to see it?

“Do you mean that?” he finds himself asking. He has to— has to make sure that this is real.

You smile again, dainty fingers intertwining with his. It is a gentle smile, a hopeful smile that answers his question before you even open your mouth.

“I do,” your voice is so gentle and yet it squeezes his heart. “I’m yours, Viktor, if you’ll have me.”

He brings your knuckles to his lips, places a reverent kiss on them like you’ve given him the world. In a way, that’s exactly what you did. Maybe his lips were always meant to be on your skin, worshipping you like the goddess you are. It feels too natural for it to mean anything else.

And for the first time in a long time, he allows himself to hope.

“I would love nothing more.”

[ronearoundblindly]

Hi!! I just found your blog and 😭😭 you're so talented, like, what?? I def need more!!! I dunno if this is how it works, or if you're still doing the dirty asks game, but I was thinking maybe E,K,U and S (or Z!) for Johnny?

Have a lovely day!! oh, and well, happy new year 🙂‍↕️

Prompts are from this ask game and part of my ongoing list of answers! You can also find A, B, C, D, and V already answered for this boi.

Warnings for...well...they are dirty asks so be prepared for sexy and sexual content 😉 including (but not limited to) discussion of oral, somnophilia, ummmm tickling? emotional unavailability? and idk other stuff. MINORS DNI.

Happy New Year! I love ya! I appreciate you taking the time, dearie 💜 Happy reading... 😈💋

K - Kissing

So this...implies some romance that's not typical for Johnny. His kissing is less emotional and more intense and deep--but seriously, it's not an indication of his longterm interest or level of affection. (There is an exception to this which is Johnny has no problem giving hickies. He will mark. you. up. ((He can't be marked in the same way due to healing.))

HOWEVER, those small, nonchalant pecks--if Johnny ends up smooching you and it doesn't lead to sex, it wasn't in the middle of sex, or especially if there's no one around to see it,--that's THE REAL DEAL. Something utterly devoted has sparked inside him if (and when) Johnny slows down to kiss you. Or slows for any reason, really.

In regards to where Johnny likes to kiss or be kissed? Again, he's not much of a kisser. He's big on touching and groping and tickling, since he's a goofball and true 'player,' i.e. Johnny is nearly always playful, but once there's a connection made with you, he...

okay, so, the thing is, he actually does like to be kissed, and the place that drives Johnny wild is above his dick, right at his adonis belt, that v-cut, the pubes. This is so ridiculously intimate/possessive/reverent; he can barely handle the conflicting drives to melt beneath or conquer you. Strange thing...he would have thought the proximity would just make him want a blowjob but instead he's a goner.

U - Underwear

Commando. Easy-Access Man. Next question.

LOL, just kidding. Mostly, Johnny wears nothing, certainly not with his Human Torch second skin. He used to wear boxers but lost too many of those to a smoldering heap. No point.

On women? Crotchless panties are his favorite, but there's this new trend of booty shorts--he's very, very into them. Generally, he would have thought anything less-is-more would be best in his eyes, but there's this kinda *pop* in the stretchy fabric when it jumps over the swell of your ass...mmhmmm IT'S GOOD.

S - Sleepy Sex

Sleepy morning? You are 100% welcome to wake him up with some head or ride his cock to your heart's content, but Johnny himself doesn't usually start stuff first thing. This goes hand in hand with him being unable to slow down much. He's all about releasing tension before bed though. A good romp to tire him out and calm the mind? Absofuckinglutely. No, he doesn't particularly care if you were already asleep. You'll thank him later. Don't worry. It's always worth your his while.

Z - Zones

Classic man. Go for his neck or his crotch. Johnny is a #basicbitch in this respect. It feeds his ego to be touched all over--duh, he's got this glorious bod, you should want to touch him,--but he has never been a fan of biting, on him or on others. Since he's just about always in the mood, it does not take a lot of foreplay to get him ready.

E - Extra Info

Unpopular opinion: I imagine that perhaps the ultimate show of love/devotion/possession to Johnny is not marriage and all that normal stuff but, instead, if you let him brand you.

He works hard and focuses to not burn people, so you allowing him permanently claim you as his--which he would not do in a casual way, not with random hookups and one-night-stands, not until he is sure that word won't get back to Sue who would kill him--shows a level of trust he didn't believe he would want much less earn.

Johnny is aware he's a ridiculous and kinda stunted man-child emotionally. He's smart enough to know that. Johnny will never stop being grateful to the woman who can stick around, see past it, and grow with him...playfully, of course. You should never stop roasting him about the man-child-ness.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Dirty Asks Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[ceiling-karasu]

I had a dream about the Ray Bradbury story All Summer in a Day (because a plane dripped water on me while I was trying to doze in my assigned seat?? Just decided to ignore that at least we were finally ON the plane at that point). That one where humanity has bases on Venus, and it rains all day except for the one time every seven years. Anyway, the classmates lock a girl from Earth in a closet because they think she is making things up about this 'sun' thing.

Which later somehow started making me think of Dalnim living in a small apartment by himself, but some misunderstandings make his classmates think he was living under a local bridge. Then one entire week, it rains super hard, and starts flooding rivers, and some of the classmates freak out and lock Dalmin in a school closet over night/the weekend 'for his own good,' on the idea that they don't want Dalmin to fall asleep and get swept away to drown. Which only increases everyone's misunderstandings of one another.

But yeah, in the dorms sounds nice! Plus, work-study programs where he and everyone else can find out about the archives and photography. Maybe Sena is a guest lecturer one day.

I don't know much about what high schools are like nowadays. I remember 7 classes, but some days you had to rotate (class A M-W-F at 10 am, class B T-Th at 10 am), so it was technically more.

I just wound up writing about Tokgasi because parts of Lightning Rod were starting to focus on the aftermath of Aekku's secret document. Like, was everyone caught in one swoop, or did some of the agents notice others getting captured and run off somewhere? And why is the Tokgasi group named after this one individual? Has he done operations like this before?

Personally, I am also kind of obsessed with Field Mouse Number 8.

We see that he was apparently not chosen by Aekku, but is still away on a mission somewhere. Why was he not chosen? Where is he? Will Mulmangcho disguising as him have repercussions? If he is a field mouse/dormouse, and was actually known reasonably enough around the base that Mulmangcho could disguise as him without anyone asking questions, then he was probably close to Commander Jogjebi like the other field mice. Which means he could be off on a spying mission somewhere as part of Jogjebi or the Special Forces' groups. If Commander Jogjebi is gone, what would that mean for his mission if he is on one?

Yeah, maybe the past parts are good to have first. They are entertaining to read, so far.

The layout would be for the farmhouse villa in Lily Bell. Technically I have it all written out in the story, so the details are already there and I can take some liberties. Nothing really seems to contradict itself, but making an actual schematic is hard. I'll have to do it by hand. But, I have figured out I can make something by hand, upload it, and then trace over something in another layer and hide the first layer. So that's nice. Less worried about merging layers and more annoyed that sometimes I can't use the fill function in certain sections anymore after random periods of time. I am learning to use layers when I make clothing, though.

I kind of wish I could have gotten to know my grandfathers, but they both passed away young due to issues with heavy smoking.

I was thinking 'beauty and gracefulness' for Nayeon, for reasons that will come out much later. But yeah, at the moment, they are just not letting Nayeon figure out the truth about Jollin, since her interest in helping the neighbor distracts her from missing her parents, I guess. Plus, she would be bonding with someone who is also missing their parents, from everyone else's perspective.

It wouldn't have been only a simple reference. I was planning on writing more chapters involving perspectives from Geumsaegi, Juldarami, and Flower Hill and their search/investigations to figure out what happened to Bamsaegi. Which would have included a lot of dredging the ocean floor for a bit, and secret internal investigations. So a bit of a duel story going on there. But a soft romance just seemed disrespectful.

Thank you very much for the feedback! It means a lot to me. Although I think the amount of research you put into your own stories is great as well! And you are way better at the naming conventions and Hangul than I could ever be.

Something I did while I was waiting for class.

I don’t know if she would be a new character of mine. But if she was, she would be working as an archivist or doing something based around culture. Idk. She isn’t a character I would place in OFP since she wouldn’t be a solider. She would have been exempted.

The quality came out a bit wonky

[cobra-creampuff]

the fact that they made it illegal to make ads louder than programs on tv in 2010 but haven't updated it to apply the same regulation to streaming. who do i have to call.

[qoldenskies]

HEHE <3 I’m glad you got the symbolism lol, it’s a bit of deviation from the base metaphor but the vision was too strong to not draw hfbfhhf.

forgor to mention, but will say this was drawn like immediately after you mentioned that Don thought they were leaving him to die during the close scene. I imagine Don’s need to know how long he’d spent there definitely stemmed at least partially from the fear and knowledge that with every second he spent there, the closer he was to a very, very painful dark and lonely death.

Also- irony! An aquatic turtle drowning in dry sand, mocked for its foolishness in coming up to land (even when it was once his habitat too)

YOU DREW THAT IN AN HOUR OR LESS?????? thats INSANEEEEEEE and im JEALOUS lmfao

also yes for sure!! four days is such a horrifyingly long time, he was starving and dehydrated and dizzy, especially because he'd hit his head several times. in CL he takes them at their word a lot (because why would they lie?) but he KNOWS the three hours thing was a lie. he KNEW. there's no way that could have been three hours--- at least, he clung to it as desperate hope that it would be true, because he doesn't trust himself fully enough to be one hundred percent on pretty much any judgement he makes on his own.

when he broke down crying when learning about it i cant really say it was relief, he was too overwhelmed to be relieved. it really put into perspective the reality of HOW cruel they were, knowing that he could have died. if he was a human person there's a very good chance he would have died. he thought he was GOING to die and he was so scared he was making up how awful it was in his head again. and he didn't eat for six days and didn't drink for four. it hurts to think about, and he can't help but wonder what would have happened had he not broken and screamed to be let out when they joked about leaving him behind.

[contagious-watermelon]

it's kind of like insanely isolating that literally every aspec or "ace & aro" space I've found has been in actuality, solely for aces. perhaps arospec aces or aroaces who entirely prioritize their asexuality could also find company there, but even as an aromantic person who is also asexual, they're really not intended for me. so I can only imagine how isolating it must be if you're aromantic and allosexual

[citrine-elephant]

love going to write a silly post and end up with a mild bit character analysis.

but, leon coming up with a stupid and childish nickname for a thing that nearly kills him. some name that SERIOUSLY underrepresents the sheer power of the damned thing.

but, that would really be a good way to cope, huh? he does those goofy ass one-liners to cope, right? i think that's confirmed canon?

but belittling a monster that caused serious damage is taking back power from a situation, isn't it?

calling a jellyfish BOW an "angry plastic bag" just feels right for him.

[loverboybrightsideghost]

10am

me: oh boy i sure hope i can start gigging this holiday season, but i don't know very many people so i don't know how!

2pm

my violinist friend's teacher: hey iris are you available to do a gig in my church this weekend?

me: oh fuck yeah

[bmpmp3]

also sorry to my 3 or so francophone followers that i now use ur language purely as some type of echolalic vocal stim. for some reason beaucoup de and avec have replaced lots of and with in my entirely english mental narration. i mumble bonjour merci beaucoup bonjour bonjour to myself and then get confused when someone nearby responds ça va. almost like i forgot french was real?

[ode-to-fury]

Absolutely unhinged comment that got left on my fic lol

[sskk-manifesto]

Finally got around to watching ep 11 (´；ω；｀)

[sisterdivinium]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Category: Gen Characters: Sister Lilith (Warrior Nun), Shotgun Mary (Warrior Nun), Mother Superion (Warrior Nun), Ava Silva, Jillian Salvius, Sister Beatrice (Warrior Nun), Father Vincent (Warrior Nun), Cardinal Duretti (Warrior Nun), Adriel (Warrior Nun), Sister Camila (Warrior Nun) Additional Tags: Angst, It's all of their relationships to one another and to the halo, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

A short AU for if Mary hadn't arrived on time and Lilith managed to get the halo in 1x05.

[galehowl]

This debate has given me enough anxiety to last a few months, and it's not even near the election time yet lol

How does it just keep getting worse

[maxzinn]

love how you put thought into this whole situation I was worried about that author who got so much hate and at some point I started questioning my own morals cause i read that fic before the whole drama blew up and found nothing particularly wrong with it and I was like "am i part of the problem?" 😭 Ngl ruined my whole day. The death threats were just unnecessary tbh especially over a fictional character...and don't get me started over the yan/ dark fics I have seen so many of those where reader is a sex slave or is forced to be one to pay off their family's debt or something and i didn't see these people yapping and complaining about those...and tbh if they're offended over a harmless fanfic on a long dead website maybe they should go touch some grass and breathe fresh air cause these people are way too chronically online.. (wonder if they've seen fics on AO3)

And dw i could never hate my boy aventurine! He's an interesting character with a good character design i just feel awkward reading his fanfics now but I'll get over it eventually!

YO ANOTHER JING YUAN SIMP‼️‼️ I love him so much i can't even express it in words I'll willingly be his housewife 😔

Honestly, same. I started thinking if I was in the wrong for thinking that nothing was wrong about the fic when I also read it before the whole situation had gone down. But after pondering about it, I questioned myself "Is it really wrong to want to save slave aventurine? Does that make me self-righteous and a white-knight? Does that make me a person who romanticizes that?" The answer is simply no.

It was never wrong to begin with when we had good intentions in mind, when reading that fic we never even had malicious thoughts about it when reader bought aventurine to save him and be a better owner/person to him, reader just wanted to give him a better life. It just annoys and angers me how people just assume we're white-knighting when the desire to save someone is just basic human decency and sympathy.

So no anon, you weren't a problem because I also think that there was nothing wrong with that fic at all.

(Also, you're so real for that Jing Yuan one!!! He was literally the first man I simped for before Aventurine 😫)

[aidankalenko]

still a pet peeve of mine to see fic excerpts as a summary. like maybe if it was on a jacket for a book. but by definition that is just not a summary im sorry