#but yeah. i feel like i need to appreciate and talk more about the other campers more

[hailqiqi]

So let me add the European view here - as someone who is actually half-European, half-American.

I have an Americanised German surname. My surname is pretty much only found in America due to a few historical quirks. It's pretty cool, tbh.

Now in Europe, we would say that my US family is 'American, with German heritage'. We say this about ourselves, too -- because given we're all close neighbours & the borders have shifted over time, how many of us do you think are pure anything? My Italian friend has a German surname because his father is German, but he's not German, he's Italian, because he *acts* Italian. It's not exactly an ethnicity, because the lines are so blurred - if you want ethnicities you need to go further back, to the Celts, Gauls, Phoenicians etc.

So when we say 'but you're not German' it's because we recognise that the USA has a very distinct culture that is purely American. This "when American culture is treated as a rip-off of every other culture" view? Yeah, that's not us. That's your own image issues. Anyone who says America doesn't have its own culture is nuts (or American, funnily enough).

American culture is in the way you take cookies round to greet new neighbours, it's in the pride you take in your homes, in the way you engage in small talk, in the way you're so bloody touchy-feely and genuine about it ("I'm so thankful for..." "I really appreciate" "I feel so"). It's in the way you greet immigrants, tourists and strangers -- and as someone who's taken quite a few foreigners to visit in the Deep South, the way you greet foreigners is incredibly welcoming. Culture is in the way you relate to each other and frankly, the way Americans do their best to wear kindness on their sleeves is something to be proud of.

Hell, even if you use that narrow definition of culture as being 'the arts' -- the arts in the states is fluorishing!! Broadway, Hollywood, music, fashion, art -- the US is a cultural powerhouse in the snooty definition, too.

Sure, America has its problems - though sometimes I think that the internet amplifies them, simply because there's so many Americans. Europeans love to laugh at Americans for being a tad dumb, but frankly we're shit at American geography so it's glass houses, really (also have you heard what we say about each other? It's all meant in jest).

So I suppose, when we say "But you're not German!" We're really saying two things: (1) we know German people & they act *nothing* like you, culturally you're American through & through & (2) being American is something to be proud of; why aren't you proud of your culture?

(Having said all that, it sounds like your family is much more culturally German than mine and most Europeans would be (a) surprised & somewhat confused to hear that such communities exist in the US and (b) would probably label that as 'American-German' because it's its own unique thing (modern Europeai German culture has moved on & changed from the culture preserved by the community). Which, fun linguistic fact: did you know the insular American immigrant communities have become the last refuges of some dying European languages?)

"yOu'Re nOt GeRmAn, yOu'rE AmErIcAn"

Okay, bestie, let me explain something to you that is very important to American culture — very, very few of us are ethnically American. When an American says they are "German" or "Irish" or "Italian" they aren't talking about citizenship. They are talking about ethnicity.

The U.S. is primarily a country of immigrants. Everyone says we "don't have a culture" or we have a "bastardized version of *insert culture*" but that's not true!!!! Our culture is made up of American Immigrant Culture!!!! American Italian food isn't "fake Italian food" — it's the innovation of Italian Immigrants who used traditional Italian food along with the ingredients that were more accessible to them in the States. It might not be the food "of Italy" but it is the food of proud sons and daughters of Italy who are also proud Americans. And you can be both.

When American culture is treated as a rip-off of every other culture, we are essentially dishonoring the memory of very brave men and women who chose to leave their homelands under unfortunate circumstances. Men and women who didn't have much money, but did what they could. Used the materials they had. And still managed to make something beautiful out of it. When you leave your home, it doesn't stop being part of your identity — it just looks a little different now. You pass on your old traditions to your children and your children's children, and along the way, new ones are created. Cultures mix and create subcultures. And it's beautiful. It's good. It's primally human.

If I'm not "German" care to explain to me my pasty white skin? Or my last name? Or all the post cards written to and from Germany that we have upstairs in a box? Or the name of my town? Or my grandparents' first language? Or the fact that my American Church, in the year 2024, still sings "Stille Nacht" at every Christmas Eve mass? Sure, I'm not fully German, but the awareness of where I have come from makes up a huge part of my understanding of myself and my place in this world. I was raised in a German Catholic farmtown, and it shows. It shows in the way we worship, and our work ethic, and our reverence for family life.

When an American calls themselves "German" or "Irish" or "Italian" they mean that's where their blood comes from. And it's okay for them to care about that. It's okay for them to care about their roots. It's a major part of American culture.

If you want to "respect" world cultures, you can't just pick and choose which ones are "real" according to you.

[genderlessghoul]

Hey so remember when I wrote a small fic about trans Phantom using tape to bind for the first time and it went like shit?

Anyway, I wrote a tape redemption arc and it's under the cut! It's just around 600 words-ish.

“Come in!”

Dew calls out after hearing a shy knock on his door. He doesn't need to look up to know who's on the other side, the faint scent of lavender and woodsmoke betrays Phantom before he even walks through the door. The quintessence ghoul walks in sheepishly and closes the door behind him, something nervous about the way he carries himself that immediately catches Dew's attention.

“What is it?” the fire ghoul asks with a cocked eyebrow as he sets down his book (something about mermaids that Rain suggested to him) and sits up in bed. Phantom holds up a roll of kinesiology tape and a pair of scissors, his tail wrapped around his leg in worried anticipation. He doesn't even need to say a word before Dew's on his feet, taking the roll from him and leading him deeper into the room. It's been months since Phantom's first attempt at binding with tape and it didn't exactly go well. He knows the younger ghoul still has some scars on his back from the experience. Dew leads him near his desk so he can work while standing up. He takes off the other's shirt.

“You took a shower?”

“Yeah.”

“You didn't put on any kind of body butter?”

“No.”

“Good.”

As he starts cutting strips of the tape, Dew notices how the quintessence ghoul opted for black, this time. He can't help but think that, at least, it won't stick out like a sore thumb, this time. Phantom seems to read his mind and lets out a dry chuckle.

“It fits my colour scheme better.”

“It does. You sure you wanna do this? We don't have to.”

“I know… But I figured I'd go back to it sooner or later. And if I don't do this now, I feel like I'm gonna chicken out forever.”

“Fair enough. Just don't go ripping it out raw again, okay?”

Phantom laughs nervously at that.

“Been there, done that. Never again.”

“Good boy.”

The quintessence ghoul melts a little at the praise and Dew gets to work. He instructs the other to lift his arms so he can lay the first pieces of tape.

Phantom keeps his arms up while the fire ghoul works on him. He finds a lot of comfort in his warm fingers and the ease with which Dew applies the strips. He wishes now more than ever that he'd gone to him the first time, instead of experimenting all by himself in his cold bathroom. At least, he'd learned what not to do. His eyes find Dew's mirror and he watches him work, trying to commit the techniques to memory, although he could get used to the pampering.

“How'd you figure out how to do it right?”

“Lotsa practice.”

The fire ghoul finishes his work and pats Phantom's sides a couple times.

“Lots of asking around, too.”

To which the younger ghoul rolls his eyes.

“I get it, I should come to you more…”

“It doesn't have to be me, baby bat, I just don't want you to mess up your body.”

They stay silent for a moment while the quintessence ghoul puts his shirt back on. He stretches his arms out, relishing in how comfortable the tape is this time around. He even finds himself smiling at his own reflection.

“You don't have to take care of me so much… I'm not complaining at all, I appreciate it more than I can tell you, I just… Thank you.”

“Don't mention it, Ant. I um… I remember what it was like to be in your place. And I wish I had someone back then to show me a thing or two, to tell me it was gonna be okay.”

Phantom doesn't quite know how to react to Dew's words. As long as he'd know him, the fire ghoul hasn't talked much about his own experience, only ever spoken with his actions. The moment is short lived, however, when Dew turns back to him and claps his hands together.

“Alright, loser, down for a game of Mario Kart?”

[eyneyke]

FIFA Master

Pairing: Max Verstappen x PewDiePie!sibling Summary: What if Felix had a genius brother who works as a RedBull's engineer and is also secretly dating Max part 15 of A Calm to my Storm Masterlist

Two weeks after that, now famous, live on Pewdiepie's channel, fans online were still going crazy about Sam. At the next race’s press conference, a journalist raised their hand, standing up with a mischievous smile. "This question is for Max," they began, causing Max to glance up with a knowing smirk already on his face. "Recently, Sam Kjellberg, your engineer, made an appearance on his brother Felix’s livestream, and he revealed that you’ve been dragging him to FIFA matches in hotel rooms with other drivers. How do you feel about the internet’s reaction to your engineer becoming their new crush? What do you comment?"

Max chuckled softly, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned closer to the microphone. "Yeah, I’ve seen some of the reactions," he said, his voice tinged with amusement. "It's funny. Sam’s really good at FIFA—I knew that, so I figured it’d be fun to introduce him to the other drivers. Now, we tag team them and crushing others has become part of the entertainment between races." Max glanced around the room, his eyes sparkling as if holding back more laughter. "As for the internet’s reaction, well, I think it’s great that they’re appreciating Sam's… talents."

The room erupted in soft laughter, while the other drivers shot Max amused glances.

Carlos Sainz chimed in, "I still don't believe that Sam is just that good. I was so sure I was just having an off day when he destroyed me at FIFA the first time. Now it is always fun to see who he and Max will destroy next."

Lando Norris, leaning forward with his trademark grin, added, "Yeah, I lost to him too. I thought Max was just showing off a mate, but now I realise I got tricked. And we are all in this sport so you know that there are bets flying every time and our egos are way too big to be that easily bruised."

The journalist, sensing the perfect moment to stir the pot even more, turned to Max again. "The fans are particularly obsessed with his… arms. Some are even saying Sam’s the secret behind your success."

Max’s grin widened. "Well, Sam’s definitely got the brains behind a lot of what we do. His arms? That’s just a bonus." The entire press room chuckled at the playful comment, but Max wasn’t done. "I mean, if the fans think his arms are helping, who am I to argue?"

The journalist pressed on, sensing more entertainment. "And what about the fact that Sam is Felix Kjellberg, also known as Pewdiepie's, brother? Have you met Felix yet?"

Max let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "No, I haven’t met Felix in person. But I’ve heard plenty about him from Sam. He’s told me a lot of funny stories, so I feel like I know him without even meeting him." Max’s tone was playful, his eyes dancing as if he was in on a joke that no one else knew.

Meanwhile, Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the moment. "Wait, so we’ve been hanging out with PewDiePie’s brother this whole time, and none of us knew? I need to get Sam to get me an autograph."

Max laughs, leaning back in his chair. "What can I say? Sam’s a low-key guy. He doesn't care if cameras are around or not, he is always the same. With all of us being in the spotlight during races it is refreshing to have around someone who just really doesn't care."

The journalist, eager to keep the fun going, turned to the rest of the drivers. "So, what do you all think about Sam being PewDiePie’s brother and the internet going wild over him?"

George Russell, who hadn’t spoken much, chuckled softly. "Honestly, I only found out recently. It’s wild, but it makes sense. He’s a pretty cool guy, haven't talked to him much but I hope to be invited to some of those FIFA game-nights."

Lewis Hamilton smiled when asked about this, leaning into the microphone. "I’ve never met him, but from what I hear, he seems like a legend."

The room filled with more laughter, but Max remained cool, his playful smirk never leaving his face. As the press conference wrapped up, the internet exploded with more thirst for Sam Kjellberg—while Max secretly relished in the chaos he was helping fuel.

What no one knew—apart from Christian and Gigi Horner (and Checo, of course)—was that Sam wasn’t just Max’s engineer; they were secretly dating. As Max left the press conference, the thought of how well they’d managed to keep their relationship under wraps amused him. Fans were focusing on Sam’s arms and FIFA prowess, while Max was content to egg them on, loving every moment of their obliviousness.

---

Later that night, as Max and Sam lounged on the couch in Max's apartment, tangled together under a blanket, their clothes scattered around them on the floor, they laughed at the memory of the press conference.

Max, still grinning, pressed a kiss to Sam’s temple. "The way others think that all the time we spend in my room is us practicing FIFA is just so funny to me."

Sam chuckled, his fingers tracing circles on Max’s chest. "You really love feeding them more, huh? And watching fans freak out over me."

Max smirked. "It's too much fun not to. They’re all obsessed with your arms, and meanwhile, they have no idea I'm the one who left that hickey Jack teased you about."

Sam snorted, shifting to look up at Max with a teasing smile. "Yeah, thanks for that, by the way. Could’ve been a little less obvious."

Max only laughed, pulling Sam closer. "Hey, you loved it. And now, the internet thinks you’re single and just out there breaking hearts with your FIFA skills, while Jack is trying not to laugh when your brother offers to match you with some of his friends. And I learned to love you and leave evidence in less obvious spots, haven't I?"

Sam rolled his eyes but smiled. "Yeah, i guess you did. Let’s keep them guessing for a while longer. It’s fun watching them freak out. And it'll be even funnier when Felix finds out."

Max kissed him softly, his smile never fading. "Whatever you want Shatje."

[impala124]

Bad Buddy Ep 7

My thoughts on Ep 1 | Ep 2 | Ep 3 | Ep 4 | Ep 5 | Ep 6

Me, at the end of this episode:

Happy to see that Pran had toned down his flirting, still thinking about him licking Pat's finger and probably would never stop thinking about it, and is back to his usual bantering with Pat.

Pat has a new car and a new boyfriend. You know what that means!! CAR MAKEOUT SESSIONS WITH BOYFRIEND!!!🤞

Pa is coming to university. Hopefully, we'll get to see more of her.

Me, when Pran's mom said that he can bring anyone home, boy or girl, as long as it isn't the boy next door:

Pran apparently has only two modes when it comes to flirting with Pat: snarky and horny. I'm sure Pat appreciates them equally.

Now, I've been a freshman and met many helpful seniors in college, but no one was holding my hand to escort me to a gathering on my first day. Anyway, Pa and Ink are interacting, guys!

Ok, Pa is sharing a dorm with Pat. I like the idea of it, but given that the (flirting) games are on, I don't want Pa to see anything she doesn't need to.

Pat's dad is again doing the most with his "Don't ruin my reputation." Sir, please. Just stop.

Pat looking at Pa's note from her peer mentor and saying that it's from a guy is funny because my boy is talking out of his ass here. Remember the time he looked at Pran's note and thought that a girl wrote it? Yeah, your track record isn't great when it comes to this sort of deduction, bestie.

Product placement interwoven into the plot—bring this back.

Pran's "I want you to do it for me" while asking Pat to change your printhead is just ASDGHGKYH.

Pat, expectedly, folded like a wet napkin. Pat is God's strongest soldier for resisting Pran's brand of flirting, is all I'm saying.

Ink, the badass that you are!! We got a head pat. Holding hands and head pats, I smell something in the air.

Not them holding hands in secret at the bus stop, which exists as proof of their coordination. Snack deliveries, my beloved!!!

I'm just here losing my mind visualizing Pat going to Pran's room with Nong Nao in hand for a sleepover. I wonder who even initiated the conversation, though. Was it Pat casually showing up at Pran's doorstep with Nong Nao in hand, or was it Pran inviting Pat for a sleepover and Pat showing up with Nong Nao in hand? I NEED TO KNOW. How dare they deprive me of this conversation??!!

Shirtless Pat makes an appearance again. The tickling!!!

PA ALMOST WALKED IN ON THEM. Remember when I said Pat rooming with Pa wasn't a good idea in practice? Yeah, this is what I was talking about. Not Pat saying that he's doing a side pack workout 😭😭😭.

Okay, Wai having a crush on Pa will be interesting for sure.

Ink is just not having it with Pat's extra attention!!

One thing I know for sure is that no one who bet against Pran has lived to tell the tale.

Pat, my lost puppy, is here to cheer up his cranky boyfriend. Even Pran can't resist that beautiful face!! The chemistry is electrifying.

Wai is such a manipulative asshole for forcing this responsibility on Pran. He brought back the guitar because he knew that he could coerce Pran into agreeing to his plan.

All the playfulness has left Pat; my boy is feeling dejected now, and Pran is at a loss of words as to how to explain his side of the situation. I'm hurting for my boys.

The rooftop rendezvous!!! They know each other a bit too well. Pran, with his "We'll never reveal our feeling if nothing forces us to do so," is just exposing himself. Speak for yourself, bestie; Pat isn't like you.

Pat coming to Pran's rescue again, when Pran seems to have lost all hope.

Yes, cheer for your man, Pran. Pat's "If my victory puts my boyfriend in trouble, I'd rather lose" got me giggling and kicking my feet like a teenager.

Oh man, the romance is romancing for sure!! Pran fed Pat the curry, the one he wanted to feed to the person he likes!!! So, they both won❤️.

Sparing a thought for Pa's bladder, though. But in the grand scheme of things, what's a pesky little UTI in front of 'soulmates' declaring their love for each other? I think Pa would be happy with the trade-off.

As I said before, Pa is a child of (PatPran's) divorce—

She had to put up with Pat wreaking havoc with his drums in the house during their breakup era.

She moved in with Pat and almost walked in on them during their 'we're trying to get back together' era.

She (her bladder) is being neglected during their makeup era.

There is something to be said about Pat's very public declarations of love (the cute dimples slide in front of the whole class, using the audition for the play to flirt with his boyfriend and him agreeing to play the lead) for Pran done in a concealed manner.

Tagging the usual suspects: @shortpplfedup, @incandescentflower, @starryalpacasstuff, @7nessasaryevils, @greenteadumplings, @grapejuicegay, @madworld-bbs, @usodeshou, @tao-moonb, @fanatic-freakshow . If anyone wishes to be tagged in the future, let me know.

[clvudii-launch42]

Omg I miss Brooklynn 😭😭 It just hit me out of literally nowhere! I often forget how good of a character and friend she is. She's so supportive, and kind and cool and she has heck of a big heart when she decides to show it.

I just love her so much, and it just hit me suddenly just HOW MUCH I love her 😭

[rainingincale]

.

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[hofftrans]

Platonically adore my psych for a number of reasons but a big one is that her whole practice is committed do de-colonising and stripping anglo christian values from therapy. Discussions on violent urges and guilt below the read more

So in my last session when I was like "I know I am a bad person because I solved most of my problems growing up with violence and genuinely enjoyed doing so what if I'm the next jack the ripper no one should enjoy violence" and my psych just uno reverse cards me and goes "Nah fuck that, all the examples of you hurting people are in situations where you were actively defending another person, often a minority, and gave warnings before attacking. Its bullshit that people are 'allowed' to hurt you but if you hurt them back you're suddenly the monster. Fuck that. You had your power stripped away and found a way to get it back, of course that felt good" and then we spent the last like ten minutes flipping between being nostalgic about past fights and talking about subjects like the military, police brutality and the way the western world moralists and demonised violence from any individual or group other than the ones that support the oppressive status quo

[our-celia]

when ur peotector finally documents some of his worst trauma memories and youre just sitting there reading it like

[todayisafridaynight]

how long did it take you to like Daigo and Mine? I had a delayed response to the former. I’d played through all the games, nothing. Then one day I was just thinking of how he was yet another example of goth disaster who grows into Fine Young Man (my first was Gaara) and all of a sudden I got struck with the blorbo truck.

bestie. i have no idea LMAOOOO I REALLY COULDN'T TELL YOU

i know with mine at least it took me beating Y3 first and then thinking about his character more and then doing a replay of Y3 and rewatching his scenes. plus then i found all the currently available RGGO stories for him and that p much solidified my adoration for him

with daigo, i think it was just kind of like a gradual thing? my memory of my initial feelings when playin these games are mostly faded (pardon like. Y7 stuff that game and my feelings for it have been branded into my brain 5ever) but i remember as the games went on, i just got happier the more i saw daigo on screen (kind of like how i get when i see date in that 'omg it's my old friend daigo that's my boy :)') to the point where i instantly knew the 'masked figure' in y5 was him just from his sideburns (tho tbf i think we all saw the twist coming from a mile away, but it's the way i saw his sideburns and instantly went 'oh bitch i know those anywhere')

i did think he was dripped the fuck out in Y2 tho

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[kbwrites]

Heated Waters

synopsis: being married is hard, being married without seeing each other is even harder.

⚝ content: Hiromi Higuruma x F! Reader, nsfw, bathtub sex, fingering, Hiromi neglects his wife, but boy does he make up for it

⚝ wc: 1.9k

“Yeah we do it pretty much every day.”

Satoru said, taking a leisurely sip of his water. His pale face alight with mischief, a shit-eating grin across his lips. His three coworkers stared at him in (jealousy) disbelief.

Suguru was the first to break the silence, wanting to save face “Everyday is a bit much, isn’t it, Satoru?”

Satoru chuckled, his blue eyes glinting with amusement as he watched his friend squirm. "What about you guys? How often do our married friends get it in?" His gaze flickered to Nanami, who cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, his eyes fixed on the steam rising from his coffee cup.

“Twice a week, I suppose…”

Satoru's smile widened, clearly entertained by the responses he was drawing out. He then turned his attention to the oldest among them, Hiromi Higuruma, who was carefully straightening his tie, a subtle attempt to avoid eye contact.

“What about you, Higuruma?”

“Your wife, (Y/N) is a little younger than you, right? C’mon Higuruma-San…She a total freak?” Satoru teased.

Hiromi's jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as his grip on his coffee cup tightened. He took a slow, measured breath, his voice strained but controlled when he finally spoke.

“Please don’t talk about my wife like that.”

But Satoru, ever the instigator, didn’t back down. “It’s just us guys riiggght? And I can’t lie Higuruma, you’re one lucky guy. (Y/N) is a catch.”

Nanami nodded in agreement, as did Suguru, though both seemed to sense the discomfort growing in Hiromi. The older man could only sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation.

It was true—you were everything he could have ever wanted in a partner. Beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted—his perfect match. If heaven existed, Hiromi was certain you’d be the only one worthy of it.

But long nights in the office, and early mornings preparing for court would take a toll on any relationship. The truth was… Hiromi hadn’t touched you in over a month. By the time he came home—you were fast asleep, and weekends were spent running the mountain of errands you couldn’t get to during the week. You loved each other of course, but it was hard. A month without feeling the warmth of your husband's hands all over your skin was starting to weigh heavily on both of you.

“You don’t have to answer Higuruma-san..” Nanami chimed in, sensing his elder colleague’s discomfort.

“Over a month.” Hiromi exhaled, the truth slipping out before he could stop it.

The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.

“WHAT?” Gojo audibly gasps. “Your wife looks like THAT and you haven’t f—”

Suguru swiftly cut him off with a well-placed elbow to the chest. “Satoru… leave Higuruma alone.” The long-haired male warns. “Still, that is surprising.”

“I know I know..” Higuruma pinches his bridge. He wanted nothing more than to have his wife under him… on top of him. But the endless stream of work kept him trapped in a cycle of exhaustion. “I’ve been so busy I can’t even remember the last time I actually spoke to her properly.”

Suguru offered an apologetic smile. “Sounds like you need a break.”

“Sounds like you need some puss—” Nanami quickly elbowed Satoru in the chest before he could finish his sentence.

Hiromi shook his head, letting out a dry chuckle as he ran a hand through his dark locks, clearly frustrated with himself. “I appreciate your concern, guys, but I don’t see how I can take a break right now. I have so much work to do, and I’m the only one who knows how to handle all of it.”

“Higuruma-San. Satoru will take care of the paperwork for you.” Nanami suggested with a deadpan expression.

“HUH?” Satoru blurted out, clearly caught off guard by the sudden assignment.

“Yeah,” Nanami continued, ignoring Satoru’s protest. “It’s not like he actually does any work around here anyway.”

Suguru smirked, nodding in agreement. “That’s true. You might as well make yourself useful, Satoru.”

Before Hiromi could protest, the trio moved in unison—Suguru grabbing Hiromi’s briefcase, Nanami steering him toward the door, and Satoru sighing dramatically as he resigned himself to the task.

“Are… are you boys sure about this? I don’t want to burden you–”

“Nonsense! Go home and take care of your wife!”

Hiromi placed his briefcase by the door, his tie feeling suddenly too tight around his neck. He loosened it with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he glanced around. The familiar scent of home greeted him. It was comforting yet bittersweet, a reminder of all the moments he had missed. The living room was tidy, the soft hum of the dishwasher running in the kitchen. You had clearly been busy, taking care of the house as you always did, even when he wasn’t around.

“Honey?” Hiromi calls out to you, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness.

Frowning, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair before making his way down the hall. As he approached the bathroom, he noticed a faint light seeping out from under the door, accompanied by the sound of water gently lapping against the tub.

He hesitated for a moment, then slowly opened the door.

The sight that greeted him made his breath catch in his throat. There you were, reclining in the bathtub, your eyes closed, head resting on the edge as steam rose around you. The soft glow of candles illuminated the room, casting a warm, serene light over your features.

You looked so peaceful, so beautiful—that it almost hurt to look at you. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he took in the sight, but the guilt and longing only deepened. How long had it been since he’d taken the time to appreciate you like this? Since he’d been able to just… be with you?

You opened your eyes, gaze meeting your husband as he leaned against the door frame.

“Hiromi?” you murmured, your voice soft, almost questioning, as if unsure whether he was really there or just a figment of your imagination.

“Hey Honey…” his voice equally soft, as he took a tentative step closer. The warmth of the room seemed to wrap around him, melting away some of the day’s stress.

“You’re home early.” You muse, looking at him as you rested your arms on the tub. He doesn’t respond, just walks towards you with purposeful steps.

Hiromi stares down at you with half-lidded eyes.“The guys decided I need a break.” He paused, his breath hitching slightly as he continued, “Can I join you?” A playful smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Only if you take off your clothes this time.”

A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he unbuttons his dress shirt, letting each article of clothing fall to the tile floor. As he finally sheds his boxers before settling behind you. You exhaled softly, the tension you’d been holding onto for weeks dissipating as you sank into your husband’s embrace.

Hiromi didn’t waste a moment, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck, placing lazy, lingering kisses along the curve where your shoulder met your throat. His breath was warm against your skin, his kisses slow and unhurried, as if savoring every second, every inch of you.

His hands weren’t idle either, tracing gentle patterns along your stomach, moving upwards to cup your breasts with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. He nipped lightly at your earlobe, his voice a husky murmur, “I’ve missed you… more than you know.”

“Missed you too ‘Romi..” Your voice trembling as the almost foreign heat began to pool in your core.

Deft fingers teased your nipples, rolling and pinching—eliciting a soft moan from your lips as your body arched into his touch. Your hand reached back, tangling in his dark locks, pulling him closer as his lips traveled down to your shoulder, his other hand snaking under the water to your aching cunt.

“ahhhh… s-shitt..” You cry out as Hiromi’s fingers slowly circle your swollen bud. His touch light, teasing.

“Thirty-two days… I’m so sorry m’love.” He mumbles into your shoulder as he slips a slender digit into your entrance. Your walls flutter immediately around the intrusion, as he gently pumped into you.

He adds another finger, curling up to the spot he had neglected all those weeks. He extended his thumb to rub your clit. You arch your back against him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass.

“Hiro…” you moan, reaching behind for him, but he bites down lightly on your shoulder.

“Not yet, pretty girl, want you t’cum first okay?”

He whispers as he feels your gummy walls clench around him.

He speeds up his ministrations, digits stuffing your cunt as your pussy throbs and squelches. Your whimpers echo around the tiled walls, water lapping around your bodies.

You feel the pressure building as each thrust of his long fingers brush against your g-spot.

“g-gonna cum!”

“Cum f’me sweetheart please—god… need it so bad.” Hiromi mumbles as he pumps even faster.

“a-ahh!” you cry as you reach your high, walls clenching as you cum on your husband’s hand. He removes his fingers from you, moving to gently circle your clit as you come down from your orgasm.

You both stay there for a moment, your heavy breathing the only sound occupying the space, mingling with the gentle slosh of water against the porcelain tub. Hiromi’s arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer.

Slowly, he lifted you, the warm water swirling around you both as he maneuvered you to face him, settling you on his lap. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your knees pressing against the cool sides of the tub.

You straddled Hiromi, your bodies now fully aligned, chest to chest. Your husband's dark, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, his expression a mixture of raw need and unspoken tenderness. He let his hands rest on your waist for a moment, thumbs tracing gentle circles against your damp skin as he took in the sight of you.

“I don’t know how I’ve stayed away from you for so long…” his voice breaking slightly as if the admission pained him.

Your breath hitched as you shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the tension between you intensify. Hiromi’s hands slid up your sides, his touch deliberate and slow, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as his lips finally found yours. The kiss was deep, full of hunger that had been simmering between you both for far too long.

His grip on your waist tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance that left you dizzy with need.

Breaking the kiss, Hiromi leaned his forehead against yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

“I won’t make that mistake again.”

Without a word, he rose from the tub, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. Water cascaded down your bodies, pooling at your feet as he carried you toward the bedroom, his lips trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck.

He laid you gently onto the bed, your back sinking into the soft silken sheets, but Hiromi didn’t waste any time. His gaze darkening as he climbed over you, his body hovering just above yours, his eyes drinking you in like a man starved.

“I’m going to make up for every second I’ve missed.”

[classyrbf]

IS THERE SOMEONE ELSE! — GOJO SATORU

SYNOPSIS...you and gojo get into a fight after realizing that he’s been hiding something about your relationship the entire time

INFO...gojo x fem!reader, angsty, arguing, breaking up(?), not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

You slam the door to the penthouse, your heels clicking against the mahogany floors with each step. You toss your purse on the couch, hearing Gojo opening the front door and shutting it quickly. “Baby, please just listen to me.” He pleads, following after you.

“I don’t wanna hear your bullshit excuse, Satoru.” You roll your eyes, plopping down on the edge of the bed to relieve your sore feet of the heels you’ve been wearing all night to your boyfriends opening event he’s been planning for months now.

“I’m not trying to make excuses. Please.” He walks over towards you and toss your heel at him. “Stop throwing shit and just talk to me!”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do!” You stand to your feet, glaring daggers at him. “Do you know how embarrassing that was for me? God, you’re a fucking asshole.” You seethe, narrowing your eyes. “I sat there all alone, while you let some woman feel up on you the entire night? Are you out your fucking mind?” You scoff.

“She’s just an old friend, y/n. I swear I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He shakes his head at you, grabbing onto your arms tightly.

“Oh, yeah? So I when I came up and introduced myself as your girlfriend none of your friends were looking at me like I was crazy? I know we’ve been only together for a year, Satoru, but that’s fucking low.” You pull away from him. “They didn’t even know who I was. Then you got miss prissy bitch clearly flirting with you in front of me and you didn’t do a damn thing to stop it!” You brush past him, stomping over towards the bathroom.

“Slow down, y/n! Baby—”

“I’m not your fucking ‘baby’, Satoru.” You gather all of your products from the bathroom, from your makeup and skincare to your clothes and shampoo.

“Stop for just one second.” He spins you around so you’re facing him. “Don’t leave. I swear you’re the only girl for me. I know I fucked up, I know I did. I embarrassed you, made you look stupid and I am so fucking sorry. But please do not leave.” He cups your face gently and his touch feels so inviting, but you can’t forgive him that easily. “I only want you. I only need you.”

You look up at him through your lashes, swallowing thickly as you bite the inside of your cheek. “Should’ve thought about that when you let her kiss your cheek and you smiled at her. Right in front of me. Get the fuck off of me.” You push him, rushing to grab your bag from the closet.

Gojo lets out a tired sigh, following you. He wasn’t going to let you go. Not like this. “I shouldn’t have let her near me.”

“Why was she so comfortable with being that close to you, huh?” You question, furrowing your brows as you turn to look at him. “Now that I think about it. Let me guess, you two were more than just friends.” You stand to your feet, snatching your clothes off the hangers and shoving them into your bag. He looks at you, opening his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. And from the look in his eyes, you already knew the truth. A bitter laugh leaves your lips, shaking your head in disappointment.

“It was before you! Before us! We never dated it was just a small thing between me and her!” He tried to explain. “Baby, I swear! Once I met you, everything changed. I cut her off and focused all my attention on you. You’re the only who has my heart.” He grabbed your wrist only for you to pull away.

“Clearly I ain’t the only who who’s got your dick, though.” You slam the closet door shut, turning your back towards him.

“Don’t say that, y/n. That’s the first time I’ve seen her in years!”

“Yeah? Well all your friends sure know about her. She must’ve been great in bed, Satoru. Me? Well, they looked at me like I was a fucking ghost!” You scoff. “Like I was some delusional bitch who came up to you and said I was your girlfriend!” You throw your hands up in disbelief. “You must take me for fucking joke. It must be written on my forehead or something!”

“I don’t take you for a joke! You’re my goddamn girlfriend. You live with me. You have my initial around your fucking neck! I love you and you know that!” He takes a step towards you.

“Do I know that?” You ask aloud, cocking your head to the side.

“What—of course I love you. What the fuck are you saying?” He looked at you with pure confusion.

“You’re a joke. One of your friends, Shoko, pulled me aside and told me the only reason you got with me is because your little fling ended up getting a boyfriend herself around the time we started dating. You’re a piece of shit.” You revealed the truth to him, watching him stare at you blankly, lost for words. “Think I wouldn’t find out?” You ripped off the necklace with his initial, tossing it at him.

“Yes, I was upset that she got a boyfriend but—”

“So you had feelings for her. And just to cover them up, you got with me as a distraction.” You step closer towards him. “Listen to me, Satoru, don’t ever try and contact me again, keep whatever fucking gifts you bought me and return them, sell them, do whatever because I am done,” you spoke through gritted teeth.

“No, no, no, baby. You can’t leave me. Yea I liked her before, but so fucking what? I was never in love with her, not like I am with you. I was too fucking stupid. I still am! Just give me another chance to fix this. I don’t want us to end this way.” He grabs your packed bag from your hands and tosses it on the bed.

“Let me go, Satoru.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I can’t. You’re everything to me. She’s nothing compared to you.” He sniffles, holding your hands in his. “I love you so much and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you the truth. I’m sorry I embarrassed you. And I’m sorry for entertaining the idea that she could even come close to you. She can’t.” His hands cupped your face, his heart pounding in anticipation as he waited to hear any words from you.

You reached up, pulling his hands away from your face. “Bye, Satoru.” You walked past him, grabbing your bag off of the bed. As much as it hurt to leave, you knew you had to respect yourself. Time and space was what you needed to think. With each step out the door, you could hear Gojo’s sobs, something you’ve never heard before in the year you’ve been with him. For the strong, flashily and confident man he is, you never once thought you’d see or him break down. Especially not for you.

[froggibus]

MORE WADE AND LOGAN PLSSSSS CAN WE GET THEM (POLY) DATING A SHORT READER HCS??? TYYYY

Short! S/O - Logan Howlett & Wade Wilson

Pairing: Logan Howlett x short! gn! reader x Wade Wilson

Genre: fluff

CW: poly relationship, teasing, short jokes, Logan picks us up, protective boys, size diff

| Ryan Reynolds & Hugh Jackman are both 6’2 so I am gonna go off of that (i know Logan is short in the comics but just let me dream pls :,) |

YES YES OF COURSE!!! there’s almost nothing I love more than writing a short/small reader cause I myself am not short :,) but it’s nice to pretend. god both of them are so tall I just wanna stand between them & feel safe ^^ thank you so much for the req!!

they’re such bullies i’m so sorry

expect a TON of short jokes (mostly Wade) 

and expect them to parry anything you say with “you’re short” (mostly Logan)

you will always be their arm rest, you have no say in it

standing in line? Logan’s leaning his arm on your shoulder. 

at a party? Wade’s propping himself up on the top of your head 

Logan LOVES how short you are too and manhandles you at any opportunity 

if you’re being a brat, he won’t hesitate to remind you that he is bigger than you

whether that’s him throwing you over his shoulder or just standing real close to you so you can see the height difference up close & personal 

as soon as Wade sees Logan in, he can’t help himself—he’ll slide up on your other side and smush you between the two of them 

they’re such teases they’ll talk about you like you’re not completely stuck between them

“nice weather we’re having, hey?”

“oh yeah, real nice bub”

they’ll keep chatting until you’re whining and pushing against them to just get out 

Wade LOVES putting things on shelves too high for you to reach just so he can watch you struggle 

and Logan the absolute menace will lean against the wall with his arms crossed and watch you hop to reach your phone charger 

they’ll sit there and watch you struggle until you turn on them with sad eyes and suddenly they’re racing to get it down for you 

these mfs are so protective they will not leave your side whenever you go to parties/the bar

one of them is glued to you 24/7 (even when they’re not physically with you, they’re watching you too) 

and anyone in the general area (07) knows not to fuck with you

on especially hard days, your size is just what they need 

coming home from fighting crazy strong villains & mutants to their cute short s/o? nothing better in the whole world

masterlist

if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way!! likes, comments & rbs are always appreciated ^^

[sttoru]

𝝑𝑒 synopsis. after being married to satoru for two years, you still giggle and (secretly but not so secretly) fangirl about him whenever given the chance. your husband absolutely loves indulging you.

tags. husband!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff, sfw, tiny bits of angst. tooth rotting fluff yeah. reader gets called ‘princess, baby’. inspired by this ask.

“and and and, his smile ‘s just so beautiful,” you sigh dreamily, resting your head on satoru’s lap. you’re both enjoying the cozy night in your shared apartment. with no one bothering you—with no regards for the world that’s continuing its cycle outside.

satoru chuckles as he pats your head slowly, taking his time to appreciate every feature of yours. from your pink-ish lips to your pretty eyes. he’s so in love with the creation god has gifted him. he nods attentively, “yeah? what else?”

you giggle as he indulges you. it’s a habit of yours, to fangirl over your husband like you’re not literally his wife. satoru finds it absolutely adorable. plus, it boosts his ego. in a very good way.

“aaaand, he’s caring. that’s the one thing i love most about him,” you continue to ramble about your little ‘crush’ on that so-called mysterious white-haired sorcerer. satoru wishes he could capture this moment and keep repeating it over and over in his head.

the way you talk about your crush - him - is filling his stomach with butterflies. the tall man can’t deny the faint blush on his cheeks and the fuzzy feeling in his chest. you keep getting cuter and cuter the more time passes.

when he thinks you’ve reached a state of perfection in his eyes, you once again prove him wrong and go beyond that. “caring, hm? he must treat my princess real good then,” satoru hums and continues petting your head. his other hand rubs your stomach—fingers creeping under the material of your nightgown.

“he does,” you nod in agreement, “he treats me so well. i don’t know how i got so lucky to have met him.” you squirm a little as you feel satoru’s slender fingers graze your midriff, going back down to your belly and then back up your chest again. his touch is so intimate and loving. you’re spoiled. spoiled rotten by his affection.

satoru sighs. his white lashes flutter shut for a second. hearing you say such stuff makes him want to check if it’s reality he’s in. if it isn’t another too-good-to-be-true dream of his. no one had loved him as much as you did.

it feels good to know that he’s wanted. needed.

“no, i think he is the lucky one,” satoru continues. his hand petting your head stops and he moves it to rub your cheek tenderly. he leans his head down, the tips of your noses touching. he whispers, “having a pretty girl like you love him so dearly… yeah, he’s won the lottery.”

your heart skips a beat. satoru’s words leave you speechless. you don’t know if you can keep up the little silly act anymore. his flirting, the teasing and the genuineness behind his words—it’s all too much.

you grab the back of his head and push his lips down against yours. satoru’s breath hitches for a second before he gives in to you. he visibly melts, eyes closing and hands tightening their grip around your body.

“mmh,” satoru lets out a content moan. he loves you. he’s glad he’s met you and he’s glad he made you his wife two years back. you’re the only one for him. death won’t do you apart—no—he promised you on your wedding day that it wouldn’t.

you kiss him like it’s your last kiss on earth. the spark between you is still as warm and strong as it was when you met. the people who’ve warned you about the ‘honeymoon phase’ are clearly all wrong. they aren’t aware of the strength your bond with satoru has. you’re inseparable.

“i love you,” you sigh against satoru’s glossy lips and he deepens the kiss after that.

somebody loves him. somebody cares for him. that’s all he needs in life. his life is complete with you in it. he smiles against your lips and says the three words back, with more passion than ever before, “i love you too, my angel.”

nothing will ever separate you. not fate. not anyone.

[evilgwrl]

Simon Riley x Reader

Can You Ride?

Summary: Simon can’t wait to get home

CW (MDNI): Established relationship, car sex, riding, unprotected PIV, messy, fingering, squirting, praise, lovey dovey sex, semi-public sex?

Word Count: 1,477

Masterlist

Your fingers interlocked with Simon’s, smile adorned across your face as he led you back to the car. “Y’ enjoy lunch?” He said, voice naturally gruff as he squeezed your hand.

“Mhm, was good. Did you?”

He mumbled a ‘yeah’ as he opened the door for you, the hem of your dress riding up slightly, his gaze fixated on the exposure of your plush thigh. He coughed as he walked to the driver’s side.

It was a decent drive, around 45 minutes as Simon’s fingers fumbled with the CarPlay before you shushed him away and jabbed in your address.

“I had it,” he said, eyes darting to you as you laughed.

“I’m sure you did, baby.”

His hand fell on your thigh, thumb rubbing it soothingly as you stroked up his exposed arm, gently scratching with your nails. He liked that.

You were both quiet, but it was never awkward. You knew that Simon wasn’t a massive talker, and you were both secure and comfortable enough to know that you didn’t need to talk 24/7, even if you were together.

You pulled down a long road, trees aligned on both sides, minimal cars zapping across the other way as Simon’s eyes occasionally darted down to your exposed skin. He felt himself chub up slightly.

Did you wear a sundress on purpose? You know how he felt about them.

His fingers itched for more, trailing up your leg slightly, and if you realised, you didn’t show it. His touch got more wanting, burning up your thigh as it slipped under your dress. You looked at him, eyebrow cocked as he shrugged, yet didn’t hesitate to spread your thighs, an appreciative hum passing his lips.

Being around your boyfriend was difficult. Everything about him turned you on. His height, his build, his muscles, his tattoos, when he wore his mask, when he didn’t, him being in the military and a Lieutenant and that. It was all too much, so it wasn’t a surprise to him when he finally reached your panty-clad pussy, that there was a damp spot.

He let out a huff off a laugh, his eyes not leaving the road as another hand pushed your undies to the side, pussy now exposed as you lifted your legs up, spreading them. It was taboo, if a truck drove past you they would know what was going on but you think Simon liked that, knowing someone was watching how he was making you feel and only him.

You gasped, clutching his hand as you felt a rough finger pinch your clit before teasingly rubbing it in slow, small circles. Long middle finger dipped into your slit, running through your folds as he turned to you, cocky smile on his face as he felt your wetness.

You rolled your eyes at him before stuttering out a moan as a finger plunged in, massaging the gooey walls of your sex as soft pants fell from your lips.

His strokes were painfully slow, almost like he wanted you to break and tell him to hurry the fuck up. You gasped at the fullness when another finger breached your entrance, slowly pushing in as he somehow managed to focus on the tangling depths of the tar.

“S-stop teasing me,” you gasped out, breath jammed in your throat as he let out a laugh before his fingers began to work up their speed, hitting your spots deliciously as you moaned.

Your own finger came down to toy with your clit as you noticed his eyes flicker down to it, a groan leaving his lips.

“Eyes on the road,” you teased as he shot you a dirty look.

Your breathing sped up, his fingers pumping in and out of you at the perfect pace, your walls contracting to the thick digits and squelching appreciatively at the sensation that was building.

It never took Simon long to make you cum but every time still took you by surprise. You could feel the slow build up beginning as you stuttered out a moan, your own finger rubbing desperately against your hardened bud as you dug your nails into his arm, hard enough to leave crescent shaped marks but not hard enough to draw blood.

You were a moaning mess as you gushed around his fingers, juices spluttering across his hand and onto the leather seat in-front of you as you whined at the sensation.

“Jesus Christ,” Simon practically growled before he was pulling down a dodgy side road, dirt grumbling against the tires.

You looked at him as he lowered his seat down, veiny hands instantly tugging off his belt as he shoved his pants down to his ankles, cock leaking precum as it slapped against his stomach, a soft trail of hair leading down to his heavy set of balls.

“Get on,” he grunted as you looked at him, before you were ducking down to avoid hitting the ceiling. Car sex was difficult with Simon, his massive thighs barely giving you any room but somehow you managed, wedging your own next to his as he held the base of his cock upwards.

No matter how many times you guys had sex, it always took you a minute to grow accustomed to his cock, the sheer girth and length stretching you to the max.

You straddled his lap, tits flush against his face as he pulled the straps of your dress down, tongue flicking out to wrap his laps around a puckered nipple whilst you lowered yourself down his length slowly, hands reaching out to grab at his massive shoulders.

He watched your face scrunch up, both in pleasure and pain as you slid slowly down him.

“That’s it baby, you can take it,” he encouraged, rubbing a small circle on your back as you whined at the fullness, his cock still not all the way in.

He pushed up slightly, bottoming out in side you as you let out a pornographic moan, his hands reaching out to grope at your tits while you sat there, growing comfortable with the staggering girth inside you.

You began to move, hips raising slightly before lowering, growing your confidence as he continued rubbing your back, mouth sucking at your chest like he was starving.

“Good girl, hm? Taking me so well.”

His words were like a fire inside you, taking over your entire body and setting it alight as your hips began to move faster, his cock disappearing and reappearing as your pussy swallowed it with each thrust.

The squelches and the slaps of your sex were obscene, the windows beginning to fog as Simon began to meet your thrusts, hitting against your g-spot as you cried out, wobbly legs barely able to take him as you tried to keep up with his demanding jabs inside you.

“Fuck,” you swore, “I love you, Simon.” Your hands planted on his cheeks, foreheads merged together as you matched each other’s pace.

“I love you,” he grunted, his hand pulling on the back of your neck into him as you kissed. There was no tongue, just gentle touches between your lips, savouring every breath you both shared, your bodies becoming one, being as close as you could possibly ever be to another person.

Your thrusts became more lazy, your stomach spiralling again into a bundle of blistering nerves ready to pop.

“I’m gonna- gonna cum, Si.”

“Me too, angel,” he panted, voice thick with both lust and love as you held onto him, your skin slapping against each other, his hands grabbing at every part of you before you staggered your movements, a loud moan passing your lips as your pussy convulsed, squeezing and throbbing around his length as you orgasmed, the muscles in your legs throbbing as they vibrated against his owns.

His pace became sloppy before he let out a guttural groan, hot pumps of semen seeping into your exhausted cunt, the remainder of your orgasm milking his length as you both moaned in unison.

You slumped against him, body sweaty as he kissed your forehead, whispering praises in your ear as he rubbed your back. Your legs wobbled as you tried to sit up, his hands reaching out to grope your tits once more before pulling your straps back up.

He placed a gentle kiss on your lips as you craned your neck to the side, laughing at the fogged up windows before his index finger reached out, drawing half a heart before you copied him, connecting the two.

He gave you a pat on the ass as he helped adjust you back to your seat, digging in the compartment for some wet wipes before gently wiping you and the seat down and placing it in the tiny bin he kept on the side of the door.

“You okay?” He whispered, holding your hand.

“I’m perfect baby. Let’s go home.”