#clawed my way through the bars of my enclosure

[klickklackwack]

Me two weeks ago: ”I’ll just watch couple NHL games for old times sake.. What is the worst thing that could happen? Not a chance I will fall in love with the game again after few years away…”

Me atm at any given time: ”Oh what was the news about player x/y/z, must find out more… Should I put on a game on to the backround while I cook? What games did i miss? How much are tickets to my local finnish league games, should I go? Should I stay up till 2AM to watch this NHL game live? I wanna yap about hockey so bad…..”

[lonely-ey3s]

The Chemistry Between Us | part 1

reedrichards!professor x f!reader (teachers aid)

a/n: after the trailer release my mind went buzzing and i was clawing at the bars of my enclosure - i cannot emphasize how this man will ruin my life when we see this come out in july. ruin my life.

this is a 5 part series that will be posted over the next 2 weeks 💙

chapter warnings: fluff, talks of smut, reed is not married to sue, small age gap, (student is finishing degree, maybe 8-10 year gap), mutual pining.

word count: 3k

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics 

Masterlist

Professor Reed Richards has been your teacher for 3 classes now, chemistry, biochemistry, and now for this semester, physics. 

Now one could say you were super smart and taking all his classes was just your way of staying on track for your degree- which you were. But a part of you also was in it for reasons that wouldn’t be deemed appropriate according to the school’s code of conduct. 

On the first day of class, he went over the syllabus, explained what was expected of everyone, and showed a few examples of what you’d be learning, which was something he did for the other few classes you had attended. He was a very visual and hands-on teacher, always showing what could come out of something if the right rules, concepts, and procedures were applied.  

You noticed as he was introducing himself in the beginning, he looked around the group of students, and his eyes fell on you. He smiled and nodded your way as he continued to speak as if he was nonverbally saying, ‘I remember you’, which earned a blush and a small smile from you before you stuck your head down shyly to note what he was saying. 

You barely looked up after that reaction, too embarrassed to blush if he were to look your way again so you wrote notes on everything he mentioned as well as doodled when he began to go over the normal rules and expectations of his lecture, things you had already heard in the last two classes. 

Right on time, he dismissed the class after instructing that chapters one through four would need to be read before the next class but before you could make it out of the auditorium he cleared his throat and called your first name from his desk. 

You had gathered your books in your arms and were three steps away from the door when you stopped and looked back, “Yes, Professor?” you said softly. 

He used his hand that was holding a stick of chalk to beckon you to him, “Could I have a word with you?” 

You all of a sudden felt a little nervous and shy by this sudden request. 

You’d had this man’s classes for a little over a year now and not once had you two exchanged conversation privately. The only ‘interaction’ apart from today’s- if you can call it that was glances here and there while in lecture or the lab, and of course when you’d raise your hand to ask a question, but nothing more than that. However, not once did he call you by your name, always ‘Miss’ or your last name as he did with everyone else. 

You felt a warmth as your name rolled off his tongue, going down, betraying you between your thighs. 

You cleared your throat and made your way down the stairs towards him and the blackboard he had been scribbling on during class to show some examples of what you’d be learning. 

“Yes, Mr. Richards?” you said softly. 

He ran his hand through his hair, making a few curls fall forward, furthering the dampness in your panties by the downright sin that he was committing right now with how good he looked.

He looked down as he shuffled through some papers, “It seems that the university is advising for this semester I take on a teacher's aid...” he said as he focused on reading some papers in front of him, “It seems they think my work and study aren’t mixing well as I’ve been known to be a few moments late to a few lectures the last couple weeks…” he softly cleared his throat. 

“Well… if you were to ask me, everyone here knows how important and impactful your work is, Professor. To my knowledge, no one complains when those late moments do arise…” you softly said, “I think they may be a little dramatic to make you take on a student aide, sir.” you shrugged nonchalantly. 

He looked up and chuckled softly, finding your eyes, “So does that mean you wouldn’t want the job?” a small smile that could be mistaken for a smirk etched across his lips. 

Your cheeks betrayed you and turned pink, “I… I’m sorry you’d want me to be your aid?” 

He nodded and leaned his hands against the desk, making the veins in his hands and forearms pop as his sleeves were rolled up halfway up his forearm, “Should something disqualify you from being my choice?” he looked at you from your head slowly down to your feet then back up, checking you out from the way that small smile grew just a little wider before he continued. 

“You would sit in on my chemistry class which you’ve already done and passed with flying colors - but mainly it would be after lecture, helping grade papers, keeping things organized in the gradebook… no more than a couple hours every few days…” he trailed off as he looked at your book you were holding against your chest, and for a split second found his eyes wondering to your cleavage accentuated by the book being pressed against you. 

He quickly snapped out of it cleared his throat, getting too cocky with his gaze, and looked back down at the papers before he turned towards the chalkboard to continue scribbling calculations. Attempting to ignore the sudden and strong blood flow traveling down to his cock, “What do you say?” he asked softly. 

You thought for a moment then nodded, clearing your throat, “When do we start?” 

A couple of weeks had gone by since Reed had asked you to be his TA, and after that, he insisted you call him by his first name as now you were technically partners in the classroom. He insisted giving you some weight and respect when introducing you to his classes, especially when students that would come in and sometimes ignore you, not thinking of you as “good enough”-which bothered him.

You were smarter than most of the people that come through this school and to see you blown off mostly because you were a woman rubbed him the wrong way. 

One student called you a no more than just a secretary under his breath to his friends as you were grading papers as Reed lectured. Unfortunately, it loud enough that Reed heard.

Reed cleared his throat and turned around mid sentence, “Do we have a volunteer to finish this” within a second, not giving anyone the chance to raise a hand he called on the student to the front, humiliating and embarrassing him as he fumbled to guess a correct result, being caught off guard as he was one to rarely pay attention in class.

You had to put your hand over your mouth to hide the smile splayed across your face at the obvious act of protection for your respect Reed was currently displaying.

Once he looked at Reed to signal he was finished, Reed looked over the work and tsked, shook his head, then hummed disappointedly before he cleared his throat and called your name softly and holding out the chalk for you to take, “Could you please show us the correct way of solving this?”

You stood and brushed your fingers against his as you took the chalk from him then erased the young man’s work before writing and explaining the correct way to the class. When finished you placed the chalk down and turning around and walking past the student dusting off your hands, whispering as you passed him, “Not bad for ‘just the secretary’, right?” then winked and sat back down, catching Reeds eyes for a moment to give him a small smile.

After that, when you’d meet up after hours, he’d bring coffee and you’d pack the two of you something to eat as you both discovered that empty bellies and coffee don’t mix well. 

There were stolen glances here and there, especially when you’d sit in on his chemistry class. Small moments where he’d wink at you after saying a specific term as the two of you had come up with small inside jokes about specific topics when the hours got late and you both were running on fumes. 

Not only that- but there was a fog that settled over the two of you after the first two meetings called sexual tension. A fog that was heavy and in some ways smothering, as both of you clearly knew the other one felt the same way. However, something in you both held each other back from making any rushed decisions, both were too stubborn to act. 

You came into the auditorium where he was working through the same calculation for days now, damp from the rain that caught you on your way in on the one day you didn’t carry an umbrella. 

“Sorry I’m late, got stuck in the rain for a moment.” you chuckled lightly and said as you sat down into one of the front row seats, pulling out papers from your bag to start grading. 

Reed turned slightly to acknowledge your presence but eyes fixed on the chalkboard, “You know being late is ok, it’s not like I’m taking attendance with these meetings we have...” he chuckled under his breath. 

You smiled and looked up, “I know, but still, I’d like you to know that I do respect your time after all, Reed.” you said before pulling a hair clip out of your bag to tie your hair from being now damp and ruined from the rain. 

He didn’t hear his name come off your tongue very often as you still mostly referred to him as Mr. Richards or sir due to habit— but when his name does leave your lips, it commands his full attention. 

He turned his head around and saw you were damp, registering what you had said earlier, “Oh, you’re soaked! You must be freezing…” he grabbed his suit jacket from off the back of his chair and rushed over before putting it around your shoulders, attempting to warm you up. 

He could smell the shampoo from your hair when he put the jacket over your shoulders causing his feet to cement to the ground momentarily. 

You looked up at him, blushing at the immediate action to care for you was with him, “Reed…” you softly chuckled, “I’m damp, not soaked, but thank you, that’s very kind…” you smiled softly.

He lingered close to you for a moment, softly smiling and nodding as he never allowed himself to get too physically close, in fear he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back. 

You looked down and bit your bottom lip feeling the tension at an all-time high, your heart racing as you could smell the faint smell of his cologne from his jacket around your shoulders and then his aftershave due to the proximity.  

You slowly rose from the seat and brushed past him, walking towards the chalkboard, causing his knees to buckle as he got a small whiff of your perfume. 

“What’s this?” you tilted your head, attempting to decipher the calculations as you leaned up against the long desk that went from one end of the board to the other, crossing one leg over the other as you put most of your weight on that one foot and your hands planted to the desk. 

Reed had his hand against the desk you came from as he caught himself when his knees gave. He swallowed and cleared his throat, looking down at the ground trying to compose himself, “I’m attempting to prove the existence that there are multiple branches of the universe.” 

You pursed your lips and bit the inside of your cheek, “You mean like a… multiverse?” you questioned. 

He cleared his throat and tucked his hands in his pockets to keep himself at bay, “Exactly.” he began to walk towards where you were standing and stood next to you, “This has only been theorized but there’s math to support it… and to support a kind of… time travel which is what I’m trying to prove alongside its existence.” 

He turned around and saw the way you were standing against the desk and if it wasn’t for his stubbornness not to make the first move with a student, he would have taken you from behind right then and there. 

You turned and sat on the desk, slowly sliding yourself back as you looked up at him through your big eyelashes, humming somewhat sadly, “Trying to go elsewhere… different timeline, sir?” you lightly ran your tongue between your lips, feeling them a bit chapped. 

He let out a shaky breath, watching your tongue dart between your lips, and then swallowed, looking down for a moment as he thought, ‘I am a man after all… and men can be weak, right? They can fall to their knees… fall to their knees and in between her thighs and be weak, yes?’ 

But then he snapped out of that thought when you called his name softly, he looked up and a small genuine chuckle came from him and made him smile to where his dimples showed and the small crow's feet near his eyes softly appeared. 

He shyly pushed some of his curls that had fallen on his forehead back, “No.. no, I wouldn’t dream of it…” and then turned his head back towards you and watched as your lips curled into a satisfied smile. 

“Good.” you softly nudge his arm with yours, “Can’t have you leavin’ me all alone to teach your classes, can we?” you joked. 

You chuckled with him and blushed when his hand accidentally brushed against yours after taking his other hand out of his pocket to lean against the desk as he chuckled. 

You both slowly stopped the chuckling and somewhat froze from the jolt of electricity that went up your hands throughout your body by the contact. 

Reed took one glance at your lips and you did the same to his before you breathlessly whispered, “Reed…I…”

Without a second thought, he was a moth to a flame, nodding, “I know…” before stepping closer to you, cupping your cheek with one hand, and pulling you towards him by grabbing your waist with the other, then connecting his lips with yours. 

He kissed you deeply and slowly, drinking you in like you were the last drop of water in a baron desert. 

Your hands came out from his suit jacket that you had over your shoulder to reach for him. One went for his chest while the other grabbed onto his tie and gently tugged him towards you as you continued to kiss him for what seemed like hours as it felt like time stopped the moment your lips connected. 

He pulled back from your lips and nudged your nose with his, softly panting, eyes closed, hoarsely whispering, "I... I wanna take you out for dinner before we..." he was stopped by your lips reconnecting with his, earning a soft groan from him and a soft moan from you. It also was followed by you spreading your legs for him to settle between which he quickly adjusted to. 

He could feel his heart beating quickly against his ribs, mind going a million miles a minute, and now that he was between your legs, blood was rushing to places he was trying to keep at bay. 

His hand moved down from your cheek to your thigh, which your skirt was now riding up due to your legs spreading, earning a groan from him against your lips. 

You pulled back and began kissing down his jaw and starting to lightly suck on his neck just above the collar of his button-down.  

He grunted and shut his eyes, whispering hoarsely, “F-fuck…” he swallowed as you moved your hand to tug at his trousers. 

However, before you could continue, you both pulled away in seconds as you heard footsteps and voices from outside of the auditorium signaling someone was coming in. You both were out of breath, lips were swollen, and obviously disheveled.  

You quickly got off his desk and went to sit in the seat you were at, keeping your head down as a small group of students walked down the steps toward Reed, who was now scribbling on the chalkboard, attempting to get rid of the obvious bulge in his pants before they made it to him, his chest heaving in panic. 

"Sorry to intrude on your evening, Professor, we just couldn't figure out this equation and needed some clarification." a young man said as he and a group of 3 other students came down to his desk, all from his chemistry class. 

You looked up to find him clearing his throat, “Yes, one moment…” he said softly, but his back still to the students. You could tell he wasn't able to turn around due to what had just transpired between you two, knowing what you briefly felt against your hand before you had to pull away. 

You stood and cleared your throat, tucking your hair behind your ears, "I think Professor Richards may have hit a groove in his calculations, why don't I take a look?" you smiled softly at the group. 

He breathed a quiet sigh of relief hearing you save his ass. He continued to softly scribble while listening to what you were telling them, enjoying whenever he could hear your voice, now dizzy on it.

They smiled knowing you were the teacher's aide and came over, showing you the paper which had an equation written out that Reed had assigned out yesterday at the end of the lecture. Below are their notes on how they calculated the result so far. 

They explained where they were having trouble, and you kindly had them all stand around you as you sat back in your seat and wrote out some examples of how to solve the problem without giving them the answer to Reed's assigned question. 

They all nodded, understanding where they were going wrong and how to proceed from there, and thanked you before taking their papers and walking back up the stairs, shutting the door behind them. 

You kept your eyes down but as soon as you heard the door latch closed you looked up to find Reed leaning against the desk, arms spread wide, eyes locked on you, grinning like a schoolboy, a curl falling onto his forehead, "Thank you for that..." he nodded his head up the stairs. 

You blushed and nodded, "Of course..." You cleared your throat softly and looked down at the paper you were grading shyly, "After all, it is my job to help out when those things happen, right?" you began marking up the paper with notes. 

He nodded, “Right.” 

He took a moment then looked down shyly, before he bit his bottom lip, stood up straight, and walked over to you, "I uh..." he cleared his throat and bit the inside of his cheek, "Dinner, you and me, tomorrow, I'll pick you up at 6." he stated, hands in his pockets. 

You continued writing on the paper, purposely avoiding eye contact, smirking to yourself, "Are you asking me to dinner or telling me, Professor?" 

He clenched his jaw and brushed his hand through his hair, smirking before crowding your space and putting his index finger and thumb on your chin to pull your gaze up to meet his. He cocked his eyebrow and licked his bottom lip, "If I'm going to continue what almost happened on that desk earlier… which I very much would enjoy doing to be very clear..." he leaned down slowly, lips inches away from yours, brushing his nose against yours softly, glancing down at your lips hungrily, then looked up into your eyes, "I'm going to take you out to a dinner on a proper date, first." 

You nodded, and your breathing became quick but quiet, that warmth between your thighs coming back again, your core clenching around nothing by the confidence he was exuding right now. 

You pursed your lips together for a moment and then repeated, "Dinner. Tomorrow. You and I. You'll pick me up at 6 pm..." you blushed and said barely above a whisper under his gaze.

“Good girl…” he gently kissed your nose then walked away, back to the chalkboard- leaving you speechless and blushing the deepest shade of red.

Next Chapter

taglist:  @sarahhxx03, @blahkateisdone, @sunnytuliptime, @pedroscurls, @docharleythegeekqueen @pedritosgirl2000 @fancyyoouu @greendudenumber7

[girldriveroscar]

Re: size of landoscar. Love your write up haha. Truly any narrative can be validated bc every pic looks different ‼️I do have two pics that are crucial landoscar comparisons imo:

https://www.tumblr.com/answerringg/770682515577077760/their-size-difference-oh-lando-is-getting

This pic is a screen grab from a vid but just in general he looks huge this whole video 😭 like you mentioned I think his bad posture eventuates that + optical illusion but wow. What a satisfying visual re: him vs Lando. Like FINE I’ll buy into the whole ‘Lando’s so small🥺’ that both Lando and Oscar like to perpetuate🤷‍♀️

there’s also a vid of Oscar+ a fan and the comments/fan all mention how surprisingly tall Oscar is. Like Lando said in that first Mclaren vid… Oscar doesn’t seem tall.. but he is. (tall being like 5’10/11 lol)

https://www.tumblr.com/mara-xx/770330916757372928/needed-a-last-minute-birthday-cake-so-i-called-up

^ And this one is just self explanatory 💗

Anyway sorry for the length but my last random thoughts — even as someone who’s never paid attention to lando til like 5 seconds ago, I can tell he’s gone through a massive glow up. And to make this rpf bc why not, how lucky for oscar —the guy who’s been a fan of forever— to experience Lando in his prime (thus far). Oscar said #invest #manifest 

THIS and THIS for ease…

THESE SUITS WERE SO. fuck that ugly ass diagonal suit broOAUGH. this era..peak landoscar size diff cus like oscar Jus grew n lando had Not.

but ok like they r Literally always changing sizes. frm the front to the back to the outfit to the angle

i could find a Billion examples atp !!

why doesnt the big twink eat the little twink seeing this Reformed my brain n the way i see them bc. from the front they r so

0 and o

like oscars small horizontally (again FROM THE FRONT!) while landos smaller vertically. but theyre both Small Basically. (#f1drivers)

but at the same time. theres a lot of muscle mass packed into their frames. and as they shift arnd / have better or worse posture / flex and unflex. theyre either Twigs or Big.

its shrödingers landoscar… theyre big and small… i think the only real conclusion for this wld amount frm seeing them in the flesh. which i dont intend to do or ever report on. LOL. probably.

i fully believe oscars taller than he looks tho. ESP after this year. end of 2023 vs start of 2024 and end of 2024 for reference. i think its a slight growth spurt maybe i am… being kind to oscar though…

anyways thank u for the oscass pic. that photo genuinely makes me Claw and rattle the bars of my enclosure like he is so Perfectly bouncy in that. n lando is my pancake in a way…

and bc youre landoscaring im landoscaring. Under the cut tho.

the fact oscars not even.. big… n they stil BOTH push this narrative of lando is sooo itty bitty…

the way sue Cs it oscar is so giddy about being in on the “lando is the small and fiercely dominant” joke after following said smallest boys career When He was Actually the Smallest… like he is living out his 15 yr old dream please excuse his excitement he Literally is just in on the joke now. of course hes milking it. ijsk he wanted to b george russell soooo bad. hes Crazy. let him have this bit.

lando i think leans into his smallness as a shield bc its all hes ever known and been told. but thats a whole deeper convo. still cannot bring myself to edit that lando analysis Very apologetic the thoughts might hv to die in my drafts <\3

the #invest made me LOLLLL. hes so true. following a guy frm his feeder series bc u Saw the potential in him. Watching him get to F1. Moving frm adolescence leaving everything familiar to u behind to kart with the same team. Stumbling behind in his footsteps. Getting to F1 right by his side. And then u won a championship w him. brought glory back to ur team through the power of Literally Just getting along.. and u have these weird charged events of tension that Somehow get ironed out Somehow.. And ur so completely the opposite of everything he knows and yet the longest teammate he has Ever Had..oOh My Goooood

we rlly dont… give enough time and energy to JUST HOW crazy of a coincidence that is. js think ab how exciting it is for Us when the F2/F3 driver ur following makes it into F1 !! like if Luke Browning or Fred Vesti ever got a seat im Doing Actual Backflips. IT RLY IS LIKE. #invest #manifest now add on everything else??? LIKE WHAT!!!!! god they make me crazy. and somehow lando got super stupid hot and hes a race winner and can actually groan out loud when he fucks instead of whimpering pathetically. that’s crazy man. 🚬🚬🚬🚬

[miyamoratsumuu]

ok round TEW!!! i am now commencing self destruct by sending in cardigan by taylor swift, with tdrk sho the pookie wookie dookie loml beloved. (behind the screen i am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure, clawing at the walls, sliding down the door and jumping out the window while wailing sobbing and crying)(break time before requesting b4 prolly 1 more tmr!! sorey if its a lot 😞😞 dont write too much ok make sure u eat drink sleep nd everything)

CARDIGAN

cardigan by Taylor Swift, acapella ver., ft. Shoto Todoroki

⋆ you knew him. and after every moment you shared, you realize you don't know him anymore.

⋆ todoroki shoto x reader ⋆ written in 2nd pov, wc: 1.6k ⋆ this request is from the 400 followers event!! mha masterlist ⋆ other notes: I finished writing this only to realize there's no dialogue at all I'm so sorry 😭 and and!! unlike my other shoto work, y/n gets a happy ending<3 (atleast i think it's a happy ending)

⋆ cw: implied cheating

the warmth that enveloped you when you put on your newly ironed uniform didn’t feel so bad on your walk toward UA high. cellphone in hand, the hustle and bustle of what you assumed was your assigned class for this year, welcomed you as soon as you stepped through the classroom door. first days always become such a blur as the school year passed by. yours wasn’t going to be any different, until you locked eyes with the boy that kept to himself at the back of the room. 

everyone else was introducing themselves to one another, in hopes of making themselves known even before formal introductions of the class began. except for two. the one up front of the class seemed off limits right from first glance. now that you look back at the memory, the second guy that was seated at the back looked off limits too. if he wasn’t, he would’ve been mingling with your other classmates already. thinking of it now, maybe you shouldn’t have approached todoroki shoto. but you did. the excitement of the new highschool life filled your senses, and your first year self was blinded by it. 

you assumed your first interaction with the man would’ve been one of those cute meet cutes in any rom-com. the upbeat girl introduces herself to the stoic straight faced guy, they become acquaintances, he slowly lets down his guard for her, and they fall in love! the moment you finished telling him your name though, you began to think otherwise. he was looking at you, sure. but it didn’t seem like he was going to let loose anytime soon. your idea of a cute rom-com moment slowly faded away. just slowly though, good thing you had patience. 

you knew who shoto was. you knew how he refused to use the other half of his quirk in refusal to represent his father. you knew how he didn’t come to ua to “make friends”. you knew what he aimed to be as a hero in training, but it’s been months since you made yourself acquainted with that version of him. and huge changes could happen in the span of a few months. the joy of your time together at ua overcame shoto without him realizing it. you could thank midoriya for being a huge part of that. 

you didn’t know when it started, but the glances shoto sent your way that lingered more than they should, the subtle touches whenever you were in the common room together, and the gentle smiles he wore only for you to see became more and more evident. you didn’t mind, why would you? highschool wouldn’t be the most fulfilling experience without the rush of a new love. and the suggestion of shoto reciprocating that feeling was something you wouldn’t trade for the world. it’s dangerous to assume, but it wouldn’t be completely unlawful.

your assumptions were only proven true when after pouring your heart out to shoto, he didn’t make a move to turn you down. instead, you felt a hand on yours as it was carefully brought up to meet his lips. the kiss he placed on each of your knuckles was gentle, and he cradled your hand as if it was glass. and as if he was scared to break you. that would be his worst nightmare, to be the one that broke you. it was an unspoken promise, but he swore to be the one to love you as best he could, to leave a mark on you emotionally, proof of his undying care for you. 

“to be seen and understood is to be loved” was what your relationship with shoto felt like. with a handful, if not all your classmates being so powerful, smart, and charismatic, it didn’t take a genius to see that the ones that didn’t aim to be on top would be pushed aside. you were one of the latter. though the longer you were acquainted with shoto, the quicker the shadows that covered you faded away. to you, it felt like a miracle. a blessing, to be seen by the son of the most powerful in japan. but to shoto, it felt like the easiest thing he’s ever done in his life. to him, loving you felt like losing a piece of clothing only to find it and treasure it more than he ever did. it was like he found his favorite cardigan that’s been missing for months right under his bed.

it would be a lie if you said shoto wasn’t the best love you’ve ever had and could ever have. most would grow sceptical of you, seeing as you were only in your second year of highschool and you were already proclaiming things about being with the one love of your life. you were too young to be that in love, as they would say. your relationship wasn’t completely out there, but those who would ask about what the two of you were, would get an honest answer. you were proud of telling them that shoto todoroki was your lover, and you were his. he claimed to feel the same, and you knew he was genuine. 

and you were right. you only knew, but you sure as hell didn’t know who shoto was now. the sound of laughter and excitement resounded around the common room of class 3-A’s dorms in anticipation of welcoming the new year. the same year that would be your last with the group of people you grew with as a person, and the people you grew to love more than anything. well, maybe not anything. or anyone. you turned down mina’s offer to join them outside to watch the fireworks the school would set off, instead choosing to search for the one person you haven’t seen yet all night. quickly understanding, the pink haired girl gave you a “goodluck!” before turning around and catching up to kirishima. 

not being able to spot shoto in the whole first floor only meant he was in his own dorm. the elevator trip seemed to take ages as you made your way to the fifth floor. as soon as the doors opened, you immediately stepped outside and made a beeline to your boyfriend’s dorm. you raised a fist to knock on the door when you noticed it was already opened. worry and curiosity both overcame you at the same time. it wasn’t like him to leave his door unlocked and even slightly opened like this, after all. you gently pushed it open just enough to poke your head inside. and like they all say, curiosity killed the cat. 

the room was dark, except for the moonlight that shined through the open balcony doors. the curtains were cast aside, giving you just the perfect view of the two figures that stood on the balcony. you were so focused on not seeing shoto in the common room, that you didn’t realize yaoyorozu was nowhere to be found too. nevermind that, you found her now. both of them, actually. yaoyorozu had her back leaning against the balcony’s railings, her eyes downcasted. shoto was the complete opposite. he was standing right beside her, and if you didn’t know any better, it looked like his eyes were glued onto her. 

‘it’s dangerous to assume, but it wouldn’t be completely unlawful.’ before you could even make assumptions, any thought that wanted to deny that whatever was happening between them wasn’t what you think it could be was cast away. you could feel your chest being held in a vice grip when shoto placed a gentle hand under her chin and had her meet his eyes. not realizing it, you held your breath when shoto slowly inched his face closer to yaoyorozu’s, all the while she didn’t show a sign of resisting what she knew was about to happen. the final blow struck when their lips finally met right when the fireworks were set off in the night sky. 

what could’ve gone wrong? just a few months ago, you couldn't be more thankful for the clouds that covered the moon’s light, simultaneously hiding the way you couldn’t take your eyes off of the man in front of you. you were seated beside shoto on the bed in his dorm, the quiet atmosphere of the night surrounding the two of you. his mindless doodling on your scarred arm using his finger didn’t seem so mindless when you could feel that what he was drawing were stars. stars that highlighted your hard work, the years of training you went through together, and the lives you saved, leading you to earn those scars. 

as shoto continued to draw stars around your scars, you promised to kiss his in turn. the only difference now was that the feeling of gentle kisses lingered on his scars, while yours held stars that felt like they were etched on with a knife. kisses healed shoto's scars while yours were left to bleed for as long as they did. as much as either of you tried to change your ending, only one of you could receive the happily ever after. 

now, he was kneeling in front of you, the only source of light that proved it was shoto in front of you, was your front porch light. he looked exhausted, and the look he gave you was a silent plea for you to let him in like you always did before. you always claimed that letting him in was the best decision you have ever made. nevermind that. your best decision was to let the only pro hero that stood above him in the charts, your husband, shut the door right in shoto’s face. but not before making sure that he saw the way katsuki held your hand, the same way he used to hold yours. only this time, the promise of not being the one to hurt you was held strong and never to be broken. the boy seated in front of the class that looked “off limits” wasn't so bad after all.

a/n: I feel like pacing is literally non-existent in this and that the storyline is so messy but ANYWAY we don't mind that :D ALSO IK YOU HAD A KITA REQUEST BEFORE THIS SAKU I'LL GET TO IT SOON PROMISE!! I'm ashamed of myself bc I literally sort of maybe forgot how kita's character was like exactly so I wanna rewatch season 4 before I do the suna, kita, and atsumu requests 🙏🏻🙏🏻 TYSM FOR REQUESTING MY POOKIE I HOPE THIS IS ALRIGHT!!

[bekkandaa]

What's your opinion on his Pureblood views / views on muggles?

Oh boy, here we go. This is what I would like to think as a controversial thing, especially considering Riddle as many have different opinions about his views on pure-blood supremacy. However, the way I am analysing Riddle is more looking at his psychological background and so that's how I'll answer this. ( I was quite literally clawing at the bars of my enclosure to not go into a spiel about the politics of it and stay purely psychological.)

Tom Riddle, as a student at Hogwarts, exhibited an attractive persona—talented, polite, charming, and intellectual. Despite his outward charisma and the group of 'friends' he had gathered, it is clear that Riddle harboured no genuine affection for them. Instead, he exploited these individuals, which no doubt shows his want for domination and control of others. This charismatic behaviour is simply a façade, a social mask he uses.

Riddle's public persona can be understood through the lens of pathological narcissism. All humans naturally present a public mask, but for a pathological narcissist, the discrepancy between this mask and the concealed self is honestly stark. Riddle's charming demeanour was used as a strategy to attracted admirers who no doubt fed his own narcissistic needs. This mask is also used to protect his false self from exposure, maintaining his grandiose self-image.

The narcissist's primary goal is to protect and sustain this concocted self-image. This can be visualised as a wheel, where the grandiose false-self is the hub, to which are affixed spokes. These have a specific purpose to protect and sustain the hub of false-self.

Freud's theory on the oral phase highlights the crucial role of the mother in a child's early development, fostering a sense of comfort and dependency to the mother. According to Minderop, parental influence can change the development of the human personality. Looking at these theories, who both stress the importance of parental involvement early in development and how detrimental the lack of it could be, we can attribute Riddle's lack of parental affection and the resulting emotional deprivation significantly contributing to his behaviour and attitudes. These theories support the idea of how Riddle had never seen anyone as an equal, clearly taking advantages of his followers and viewing them as below him.

Riddle's identity and beliefs were deeply intertwined with his blood status. Discovering his ancestry linked to Salazar Slytherin, which would boost his ego and sense of self incredibly, fuelling his delusions on his "idealised parent image." Then came along the revelation of his Muggle father, which shattered his preconceived notions of heritage. This discovery would obviously induce an identity crisis in the boy, igniting a war within him between the person he wants to be and the reality of who he really is. This internal conflict most likely manifested in his actions, such as punishing his father and changing his name. (Riddle's mental breakdown and identity-crisis explained more here.)

Freud states that human behaviour is more influenced by the unconscious mind than the conscious one. The unconscious mind is filled by the human’s painful memories and then tries to protect the conscious mind by hiding them. This can influence someone’s attitude, behaviour and character. For Riddle, the painful memories of his heritage continually resurfaced, despite his unconscious minds attempt to hide them. This is something that is extremely relevant to his views on pure-blood supremacy. He attempts to eradicate his past, such as changing his name to Lord Voldemort and creating Horcruxes show his struggle with his own identity clearly.

(I’m sure we all know what Voldemort actually means. Ironically enough, Riddle was so grandiose ( what a romantic, no really, he was.) as to aim to transcend humanity, (changing his name, horcruxes etc.) that by refusing to accept the inevitably of death, he also practically announces his own humanity to the world.)

Riddle's descent into blood supremacy was fuelled by a combination of person and political factors. There is the abuse he suffered from Muggles, the war he had experienced, the prejudices he encountered in Slytherin, the group of followers he gathers, and his psychopathic tendencies that all contribute to his ideology. ( Riddle cravings of power and the feeling of being in control added onto everything else, honestly makes me think of only one thing; revolution. )

Riddle's appeal to pure-blood ideologies served his ambitions, allowing him to manipulate and control those who would've previously have looked down on him. This pursuit of power mirrors the actions of many world leaders and revolutionaries who sought to reshape the world according to their ideal image. The ideal image is fuelled by internal conflict between his own past and his preconceived ideas.

(This was most likely the intended purpose for his character, as he himself is a malignant narcissist, and many psychiatrists have identified a direct connection between malignant narcissists and evil. Many well-known malignant narcissists are also serial killers and mass murderers.)

Little note I also wanted to add on even if it delves more into Voldemort territory than Riddle; Voldemort seems to punish the Pure-bloods. What I mean by this is, is that Riddle seems to be taking out the fact these pure-bloods are not the ones to usually do this kind of 'dirty work' . He seems to enjoy making them do things that they would normally view as beneath them, it's a power trip. This seems to be more retribution on his end, considering the fact despite how hard he tries he will never be a pure-blood and will never be able to leave his past behind him. (what a petty man ) TLDR : Looking into Riddle's views on Pureblood supremacy reveals a complex interplay of narcissism, early developmental influences, and political motivations.

[megistusdiary]

bro, aris, that ask you wrote for me was absolutely scrumptious, im basically gnawing at the bars of my enclosure down bad for how you portray arlecchino (and arlecchino in general for that matter)

you cooked, ate, and left no crumbs *cue jazz snaps*

anywhoo, a thought that's been floating through my brain has been of the reader going "oh, y'know, i could totally run away from you, you could never catch me" (knowing full well that arle damn well could catch her, basically challenging her to do it), which would then prompt arle to prove that she can under one condition: she gets to have her way with the reader if they get caught

as always, have a good day/evening/night! i dont exactly know the etiquette (if there is one for asks, since i just submitted one) so i apologize if this is too soon lol

-👑

ohhhh this concept is so hot wtf

teehee im glad you enjoy my arle portrayal 😁😁😁

[also, my box is always open. it might take me a while to respond to asks these days, but i promise i do read them all, and you can always drop by]

(nsfw utc - tw transfem!arle, blowjob)

you can't hear her, but you know she's found you.

you can't quite explain how you know. she's silent, purposefully, taking careful footsteps and breaths, concealed within your own.

the grin on your face says it all; you wanted her to catch you, obviously. but you'd give her a good chase first, work up her appetite.

you duck into a set of thorny bushes, feeling them scrape your skin as the leaves rustle. with a hand pressed over your mouth, you look around, gaze darting between the dark trees, moonlight reflecting off your eyes.

suddenly, a clawed hand wraps around the back of your throat.

"it seems i've caught a foolish little mouse."

you yelp, feeling her rip you right out of the bushes, tutting at the little cuts on your skin. she sees a tiny prick of blood on your cheek, her thumb sliding over it, bringing it to her lips to taste.

you practically moan at how her tongue laves over her thumb. she eyes you down coldly.

"you remember your rules, yes?" she confirms, and before you can speak, she shoves you down onto your knees. the ground scrapes your skin, but you couldn't care less, watching her unbutton her pants.

her cock springs out, half-hard as she fists the base. your mouth opens without her prompting you, letting her run the tip over your tongue. "pretty little slut." she comments, lips quirked up.

she guides your hands to wrap around her, licking and stroking her to full hardness before she's sliding right into your cute little throat, fucking your face while holding your head in place.

her dangerously clawed hand pushes the back of your head, keeping you nestled against her pelvis, the patch of hair on her skin tickling your nose as your fingers trembled on her thighs.

she grunted, shallowly fucking your throat with snaps of her hips. she brings herself right up to the edge before pulling away roughly, marveling at the spit strands connecting your lips and her cock.

"what a messy pet." she huffs, wiping your lips with her thumb, fisting her swollen cock. "as i said, you know the rules. strip for me."

her eyes shine in the moonlight, dangerously deep red, and your hands seem to move all on their own to undress your own body...

[pfhwrittes]

words cannot describe how much i want to hear more about the daemon au. please i am frothing at the mouth clawing at the bars of my enclosure. you have revived a long dormant interest

^ you and me, anon, rising from the depths at the merest mention of his dark materials and/or a daemon au.

have a rough little snippet of the alone mission in the daemon au below the cut.

"y'ever gonny show us yer daemon then, lt?" soap murmurs into the comms as he picks his way carefully through the overturned furniture of a ransacked house. isla growls low in her throat and soap feels her irritation spark hotly at the back of his mind.

hush you, you know we need the distraction soap thinks, minding the throbbing pain in his arm.

yer maw raised you better than to ask a man about his daemon john hamish and ye know it she snips back even as she nudges a partially open cabinet with her nose, revealing a large bottle of cleaning chemicals.

ghost hums lowly down the comms, static crackling quietly, but the sound of his amusement sends ripples down soap's spine.

"if you make it out alive, johnny."

"i'll hold you tae that, lt."

"i'm sure you will."

isla nips sharply at soap's knee to shut him up, she never did approve of his "field banter".

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Your bird adeptus reader posts have me gnawing at the bars of my enclosure theyre so good

Okay okey I see your Bird Adeptus Reader and I raise you one Dragon Adeptus Reader, bonus points for that “not quite mastered shapeshifting yet” human disguise that has reader running around with dragon features.

This doesnt have to be considered a request but I feel compelled to share my thoughts with you in gratitude for the absolutely fantastic works you put out okey brainrot time lets go

Bumping foreheads with Foul Legacy like cats (lets be real here dragons are just lizard hardware running cat software) and having to be extra careful because of y’all’s horns so that makes it even more special. Or reader kneeling to like meditate or something, their tail is swishing behind them, and Legacy goes “!” before swatting at reader’s tail because he’s just Abyssal Moth Beast hardware running cat software.

A Dragon Adeptus would likely be very durable as well, so Legacy doesn’t have to worry about squeezing reader while cuddling or knocking into them by accident; they’re still soft and squishy and cute, but very very sturdy and able to handle all that Moth Affection.

Mutual purring, also another good thought. Legacy likes shiny objects, reader is compelled to hoard shiny objects: you really cannot lose in this situation.

It’s cat-like creatures solidarity babey!!

*unlocks your enclosure* i like the way you think anon

amongst dragons and dragon-type creatures you're considered a bit of an oddity. dragons are grand, powerful beasts that command attention or at least respect, like your secondary caretaker Zhongli (Cloud Retainer is still your adoptive mother- just because you're not the same type of adeptus doesn't mean you're not her child!) but you're smaller with softer scales and a long tail with a tuft on the end of it, still plenty durable and armed with sharp claws and adeptal powers, but you don't really have the same intimidating presence as most dragons. that's just fine with you, though- you're far more content keeping to yourself and spending time with Foul Legacy, who, in contrast, looks strong and vicious but has the softest, sweetest personality you've ever encountered, and that includes the few humans you've met and your fellow adepti

you both share several of the same habits, being essentially cats covered in either scales or armor with you being slightly more put together so you can listen to people's wishes and prayers, meditating for a couple of hours each day. whenever you sit down and close your eyes Foul Legacy always sneaks up behind you, not to spook you or anything, just to playfully bat at your tail as you work- you've taken to handing him a brush whenever he does, feeling him happily comb through the tuft of fur on the end. once he tied a little bell around it and broke into chitters of delight when you stood and instantly started jingling. you got your revenge by adoring his horns with some of the ribbons and ornaments you have for yourself- although, he seems to rather like it, so now you take a few minutes each day to pick out accessories for each other's horns, and you have plenty of shiny items to choose from

napping together is essential, particularly in sunny patches of grass. the warmth makes both of you drowsy and lethargic, Legacy nuzzling his head against your cheek and your tail wrapping around his leg. if you're particularly tired you'll change into your draconic form and completely curl around your very happy Abyssal beast, your purrs synchronizing with his. you also nap together in the most smushed clingy positions, since you want to be as close as possible- someone's face is always buried in someone's neck or chest, at all times. Legacy does make a point to be more alert in sleep than you are- you seem to fall into the deepest sleep whenever you doze, maybe it's something to do with you being a reptilian adeptus- just in case someone comes walking by, so he can wake you and help you cover your horns and tail

[anincompletelist]

happy wip wednesday! :D

once again got caught up in the excitement of finishing up bridesmaids so have not gotten a chance to read through these yet, but THANK YOU to @getmehighonmagic @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @priincebutt @onthewaytosomewhere @kiwiana-writes @suseagull04 @orchidscript @nocoastposts @littlemisskittentoes @ninzied FOR THE TAGS! I am looking forward to getting my popcorn ready and reading through all of your lovely words <3

this snippet is longer than I thought (oops) but I've been keeping this one pretty close to my chest and it has been clawing at the bars of its enclosure (the Docs) to get out into the world so HERE SHE IS:

+

“With all due respect,” Alex hesitates, “if this client needs to remain so confidential, would you not just want to… ask them what they’d want? Cut out the middle man?” He readjusts the phone where it’s caught between his ear and his shoulder, stuffing the last of the groceries into his trunk. The pay-off really would be nice. “Not that I’m turning down the job at all.” 

Bea sighs. “That’s the thing, though— he already has everything he could possibly want. It isn’t— he doesn’t much care for material things, save for a few sentimental items he already has. I’ve tried to throw him parties and I’ve tried to work with his best friend to come up with something and I’ve gotten and made him one of everything known to man and it just—” she huffs, cutting herself off. “He would never act ungrateful for anything, but he— these past few years have been difficult for him and I haven’t been as present as I should be and I know a gift isn’t going to magically make up for that but birthdays are hard for him he just deserves something really, really good.” 

“Um,” Alex blinks at the concrete. 

“God, I’m so sorry. I’ve just given you a shitload of information that you never asked for, haven’t I?” 

“No, that’s— this is good. I can work with this,” he clears his throat, nodding to himself. “And I get the whole wanting-them-to-have-something-good thing, especially when it’s a sibling.” 

Bea’s line goes silent for a moment. “... Had I mentioned that it was my brother?” 

“Oh,” he blinks, gripping the phone a bit harder, “well, no. I don’t think so. I’m sorry for assuming, I just— you were talking about him the same way my sister talks about me so I just—” 

“Alex, please,” she laughs softly. “It’s alright. I’m glad that you haven’t already hung up on me, to be honest. I’m a bit all over the place at the moment.” 

“Maybe we should get that NDA out of the way before we continue then. Then you can feel free to be as unhinged as you want.” 

She snorts. “Yes, perhaps we should.” 

“Although, if you don’t mind, I always ask my clients how they found me for research purposes. So, can I ask—?” 

“As it turns out, professional gift-giving is a highly specific occupation, and you seem to be about the only legitimate looking one that managed to come up in the Google results.”

+

OPEN TAG OPEN TAG but also! @firenati0n @affectionatelyrs @inexplicablymine @msmarvelouswinchester @bigassbowlingballhead @read-and-write- @happiness-of-the-pursuit @iboatedhere @matherines @sparklepocalypse @firstprincexo @raysletters @cricketnationrise @eusuntgratie @anchoredarchangel @rmd-writes <3333

[overtaken-stream]

You could write more about King Wildfire, there's so little of him and I'm obsessed with him too.anything about him

Do Not F4lter

King The Wildfire x Strawhat!Reader

The actions take place when Luffy is still on the whole cake island. Reader is Genderneutral so if I slipped somewhere please notify me. I didn't want this to turn out like how it did but Idk it kinda grew on me. Also, THIS IS NOT ROMANTIC and I don't think it is platonic either, King and Reader respect each other as pirates. But Reader has disdain for everyone bc obviously... Fun fact, I wanted this to be a part 1 of another fic I'm making of Lunarian!Reader but it's completely different from the other (the other is rotting inside my drafts at the moment so, I'll see what I can do to save it. + I'll probably only release that on AO3 since I just dump ideas too small for AO3 on here)

Warning: Gender neutral Reader, past torture, current torture is discribed(suffocation and burn at the end), blood, jail, murder is mentioned. King talks a bit too much for my liking, but I don't think it is out of character.

The desolate chambers, parched and dull of any care lay quietly in Wano, the days went by with little to no warmth ever touching you, the smell of iron and the taste of blood bring what little comfort it could, the heavy shackles retained your hands together as you settled against the freezing, rocky wall in the darkness, panting to try and get your energy back, to no luck, your legs had no energy to hold your body weight up, let alone break through the seastone bars of this place.

As much as you tried to get yourself together to try and attain what little information the prisoners had collected over the months of being kept in this place, it was hard hearing anything past the waves of headaches that deafened your ears, even if you could, only the whimpers and groans of battered prisoners would meet you.

The tight shackles held onto you as you sat in the darkness of the cell, head tossed back against the cool wall as small talk chimed around the jail, the unknown voices of pirates who dared to cross Kaidou's territory were taken into interrogation for who knows how many times, some decided to switch sides while others did not spoke a word about their schemes, hence they've met their end.

You keep to yourself. You don't need anyone here. Not these scumbags anyway.

The murmurs of captured were silenced as the heavy door creaked, soon the footsteps sounded around the frosty enclosure, followed by a creaking sound of leather rubbing against latex. Sharp, hard, nonresonant sounds, produced by two pieces of metal striking, echo within their every step.

They walk with slow and confident strides, and from the sound of it, they have a mass greater than an average human. You expect them to take somebody away for questioning, testing, or torturing, depending on their mood and assignment.

But never would you have imagined the heat that claws its way underneath your skin. The unexpected warmth steals a gasp from your mistreated lips causing you to grimace at the pain the action bought. The torches and lanterns never emitted this much heat whenever your captors came into. They were a source of light and you cannot seem to figure out how they keep their body temperature in this type of environment while wearing an outfit rivaling Emporio Ivankov. Seriously how do they do it?!

With the warmth that this person brings came a vibrant light and for the first time in seven days you've been here, you have a clear view past the bars you've been taken in, though it is not much different from yours. The temperature keeps growing to the point its warmness swallows your whole body in comfort. The yellow hue just around the corner is followed by separated fire sparks and the cracking noises they disgorge, joined by metal clanks and leather creaks.

It is not until the silhouette stands on the other side of the bars that you realize The Monster–or should you say– The Beast that stood a couple of meters away from you, their long limbs and broad shoulders made to accommodate the sheer size of their dark and heavy wings make him that much more overawing. they're covered from head to toe with blue leather, the thought of wearing that much skin makes you uneasy, and the spikes cover the main intimidation factor. The mask.

With a brief look one would give to an insect, irrelevant critter, he stares. One would say they were belittling you if you had not known who exactly he was.

The All-Star. The fire itself. The Conflagration.

You cannot help but smile through your beaten expression, a cunning smile overtakes your features as if you've won a game you didn't know you were playing. It feeds your ego. Kaidou's right-hand man himself came to interrogate you because the mediocre ogres couldn't get a word out of you.

His burning eyes stare at you in a way that tells you of your lukewarm retort to his presence. You couldn't agree more that it was a dumb reaction, but as a cackle escapes into the air, devoid of any noises excluding the flames on his back, you cannot help yourself.

(It sounds so much like the pained and shrilled laughter of a man in a blue and white mask, a silent Kid Pirate if you remember correctly.

He should have known better than to make an offer with a corrupted man like the Shogun. Deals and offers are double adged swords in the world of piracy. He of all people, should have known.)

Your cackle turns into coughing and desperate gasps of air, awaiting your heart to settles down, you spoke.

``I... I feel honored, having an All-Star involved in-``

King interrupts you with a key, opening the door and dragging your exhausted and squalid body harshly into the interrogation cabinet. Can't have others listening into your screams of agony.

his voice, so monotonous keeps a gruff edge as he speaks.

``I won't repeat it again Straw hat (Y/N), what are you trying to pull off here in Wano.`` He leans his back against the wall next to the door while you sluggishly fall to the floor, even in your haze you still vividly hear his question, not so much as a question but an order for you to state your business in this closed-off country.

Your half-lidded eyes do not move away from the ceiling, but your smile falls into a thin line. You wish you could bask in his warmth in peace.

``Where is your captain? Your crew?``

``...Not with me.`` technically you aren't lying.

``I'll ask again, where is your captain.``

``I told you and that fool of an officer the answer alre-ady!`` you raise your voice, and furrow your brows at the voice crack that formed due to dehydration. ``I'm not with them.``

That sentence could be taken in multiple ways. You wonder which he chooses to take.

Silence fills the chamber as he drills holes into your face with his eyes alone. He steps toward you, slow and calm in a way he isn't, until the bottom of his boot meets your throat.

``...Members of the Worst Generation Pirates think they have any significance in the New World. They conceive thoughts that they're stronger then they actually are and feed the lies only to satisfy their hunger to make an impact of some kind.``

You can feel the blood trying to travel in your body as he puts more and more pressure on your airways, cutting you off from the precious oxygen. You felt as if your head could explode from the pain.

Barely through your teeth you ask of why he hasn't ended you yet, like they've done with numerous pirates.

``A carrot on the stick.`` he answers with eyes of the soulless, watching the shocking realization seep into your eyes. they're planning on using you as a leverage, to get to Luffy, they would not kill you, oh no.

``It's amazing, the fact that you came to us at the most perfect time. He has been the reason of Kaidou's headaches for a while now.`` Your need for air was long forgotten, even when you saw black spots form in your vision, you couldn't get the fright out of your system. Couldn't get the thought of which meaning he chose from your previous answer to your brain.

He takes the boot off of your throat. the oxygen pushes it's way through your irritated throat and lungs as you gasp and squirm in the dim room.

``I'm here to give you an offer. To join The Beast Pirates, while acting as our pawn, or you'll meet your maker in this place. Either way, you'll end up being a tool one way or another.``

Ten seconds pass, twenty seconds pass in silence. A laugh erupts.

``Hah! It's quite a defeated way to go, I'll either gain what little freedom I can in your ranks, or I'll continue to take what I've already taken tons of times...`` A sweat rolls down your cheek, distorted to accommodate the smile overtaking your face. You worry for yourself, but you do not falter.

Dirt and grime sticks to your clothes, blood and gore covers your limbs, which pang and cramp on their own, pain lingers in your every word and movement. You're drained of any energy, your thirsty and hungered. You do not falter.

His eyes stare at your numb face, confused because why are you laughing, irritated because he knows which option you'll choose. Respect doesn't have to come naturally to him– it is something he has learned through Kaidou, it is something he rarely ever feels towards someone, even among Kaidou's own men. But now as he stares into your determined face, he shows regard for your dedication and ability.

``Give it all you've got because there is no way I'm ever joining you assholes...!`` even if you know they will still use you, there is a higher survival chance you acknowledge, pride, selflessness, selfishness, will, whatever it is that will remain untouched due to this decision, you can only hope to make it out of here before they stop fueling the fire within you. Make it out before they break you completely.

King can only accept you on equal basis and give you the same consideration you would expect for yourself. Though he rarely feels interest there is an attraction of sorts that he admits, and respects as a pirate. There's a shared dedication that he has in common with you. And he wonders.

``It would have been nice to get to know you better, but I'm afraid I don't care.``

And your blank (E/C) tells him of an identical thought.

Temperature grows and vibrant flames are fueled, your torment continues with a mutual agreement in mind.

[braveasnouns]

they really took as tragic as a character as they could and made her real. that's becky walker babey. tragedy embodied

NO SERIOUSLY the writers were like how can we make the most traumatized and tragic character ever and then keep doing the traumatizing MORE AND MORE.

and the fact that she’s been through so much tragedy and loss and has always been so completely surrounded by it that we see her become more and more outwardly immune to it. of course she’s dealing with it constantly on the inside, of course she doesn’t show that. she’s there for wendy, she’s there for gus, she’s there for the cause. everything else is kept buried deep inside, only showing face in the briefest moments where it claws away at her enough to peak through, only leading to that moment of complete and utter surrender.

and this is exactly what makes me think she would have some troubles getting used to the way things are back in yellowstone. after the pressing things like shelter and food and care are dealt with, after everything should be stable and calm. would the walls of a soldier she’d always had to build up not start to crumble around her? would she not know what words to put to her identity if not tragedy, if not war, if not anguish?

shes so tragic i’m GNAWING at the bars of my enclosure, GOD

[thehypnone]

How are you coping during this apparent SwissAlps drought you're experiencing? Imma go ahead and assume you've almost gnawed your way through the bars of your enclosure

ngl it's bad out here...

my walls are clawed, doors chewed through...

[ughbrie]

just read ur anchored to you raf fic and i am,. clawing at the bars of my enclosure I AM GENUINELY SO SO SO ENAMORED WITH YOUR WRITING it felt like such a good character study in the first half you had me feeling all sorts of ways (the smut too but that had me gnawing on hardwood and kicking my feet screaming crying giggling) anyways letting you know its a great fic i will pass this on to all my oomfs

This is the best reaction I could ever hope for. 😭 Clawing at the bars of your enclosure?? Highest praise fr, HAHAHA. I’m so, so happy Rafayel’s characterization came through the way I wanted—it means the world that I gave him justice. And passing it on to your oomfs?? HONORED. Thank you so much!!! 💗

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Oh my goood this was a delectable read (it took me so long to get to reblogging this because I genuinely needed time to process, this is my 5th reread of it)

“Scare the goody goody Christian boy - make him run, and if he could, make the brat cry. However that wouldn’t last for longer than a few days.”

Literally the way you show Woods lashing out because of his own environment and upbringing, then slowly melting into Mason as he’s shown the bare minimum of affection and care has me clawing at the bars of my enclosure. Like enemies to lovers but better.

“Alex could beat him within an inch of his life and he’d cum, but knowing that Alex would never have the heart to do that felt so fucking nice - it brought him closer to the edge, tying tight knots in his stomach.”

HELLO?? THIS WAS POETRY

Woods taking comfort in the fact that he knows his closest friend wouldn’t give him a beating that he easily could (and one Woods would gladly take, probably think he deserves it too) and translating it to sexual pleasure because this hunk of trauma man probably doesn’t know how to deal with any affection other than through sex?? Oh my god. his pure undying trust in Mason that not only would Woods deserve whatever beating Mason gives him, but knowing that Mason would never give him one to begin with.

“All the want and shame came out in ropes spilled hot into his palm.”

I think it’s an insane parallel that Mason is the one who grew up in Church with the family, high expectations, etc, and Woods is the one who has the more “church mindset” of that core belief of shame in your identity and shame in wanting things. Crazy. And the overarching theme of shame?? Literally beautifully written to convey the struggles of a gay man in a time where gay men weren’t allowed to exist without persecution or being SHAMED for their identity.

“Alex Mason was a god damned angel; the halo of harsh sunlight glowing around his head. Frank could kiss the ground he walked on, and praise him, his salvation.”

Again, the religious parallels are crazy good, like the fact that Woods never was religious, even says this earlier, but that to him Mason is his deity and god and he would gladly worship him. Or the fact that the sunlight around Mason’s head is “harsh”, like how the fact that Woods is very much gay for his best friend is a harsh reality for him to accept, and an even harsher one for society at the time to even consider. That light is his salvation and also his damnation, but in the end Mason is his “god” figure.

Woods probably has never been the church before at this point, he just sees a god as someone who has ultimate authority over you im assuming, so he’s just…saying Mason has complete power over him with no reservation or exception? Absolutely lovely.

“Frank knew his skin.”

Something about this line just stands out to me, because you can know someone’s skin, but then there’s knowing someone’s skin. Like to a degree where you have to be around them a lot lot. Woods knowing Mason’s exact scent, and knowing what he looks like vividly enough to imagine fucking him is an entire new level of intimacy with someone.

He’s been in the trenches with this guy, and depending on the era in which this was written, there’s the Cold War, the entire menendez situation (he survived im dying on that hill), the numbers, everything and he loves every single ugly part of this guy. They’ve seen each other at their worst and best and Woods still fell for him, knowing exactly how messed up he was, that he was in a probably loveless marriage, letting Mason suffer that pain because he didn’t know how to help, but still knew Mason enough to know that he’d always come crawling back, and when he did, he would know Mason still, know his skin, despite how scarred it might be.

Idk that was just really cool to me.

Sorry for yapping, this was just pretty awesome like really awesome and thanks for the shoutout :D, I love tragic gay men </3

This is going in the reread folder!! It will be revisited countless times and my great grandchildren will be told this tale eventually!

Some Enchanted Night (I'll be with you.) | Unrequited Frank Woods / Alex Mason

Minors Do Not Interact

Summary: If it wasn't a crime, Frank would love Alex. He'd love him until the bitter end of the world. If it wasn't a crime, he'd dare to say he loved him.

Word Count: ~1.3k words

Trigger Warning: Substance Use (Alcohol, Marijuana), Era Typical Queerphobia (transphobia, homophobia), mentions of houselessness, mentions of violence, religious Iconography Content Warning: p in a, masturbation, overstimulation, oral; masc receiving, angst

Author's Note: Ahhh! This exciting, my first fic on here! Huge thank you to Qwim ( @qwimblenorrisstan ; check out her writing! It's absolutely lovely! ) for inspiring me to get back into writing fics! And also, for those of you who like a song / artist recommendation to listen to while reading this: check out Miss Misery (early version) by Elliott Smith or anything from his discography. I hope you enjoy!

Shame was such a potent poison. Easy to suck down like Foxglove, forgotten quick until much too late, when it resurfaces in a hot rush. Dizzy with sensation he waded through the thick of existence; summer wind rippling clothes taut around his frame like a jealous lover clawing his chest, a distant harsh light burning into his vision. Frank stumbled to his bed (bottom bunk, wedged between the farthest wall and another bunk) at the depressing rolling pin they called the barracks. A large rectangle of concrete with a handful of sad excuses of windows; no better than a prison.

He realized how much he hated reserves, and threw himself onto the mattress. When the metal frame squealed under him, Frank groaned and covered his ears. Through the halls of the barracks, life echoed. Some other young bastards like him laughed amongst themselves, their stories bleeding together in the sick in his skull.

They first bumped into each other as boys at the pathetic church Frank took refuge in as a young bastard child. It was war-time, and Frank was a bitter boy at 14. Alex was no older than 11, still baby faced and hardly tall enough to look him in the eye. Frank remembered how much he hated him, with all the vitriol a pubescent teen could hold, and hated the world. How lucky was the brat to have a ritzy family to go to church with, how cruel the world was to him for denying him that. He couldn't afford sadness. And so he figured to make the kid hate the world too. Hate, hate, hate. Scare the goodie-goodie Christian boy, make him run - and if he could, make the brat cry. However, that wouldn't last for longer than a few days. The hate he had for the world melted away one day. In the genuine eyes of the boy, no less. Frank was starving, and the kindness Alex gave him alongside a hefty bag of tough jerky - that kept him going for a few days. And Alex had a heart, strong enough, kind enough to forgive him for his teenage angst. How could a rotten kid like him deserve that? And since then, they had each others backs. They were thick as thieves, young and stupid and free, until the soldiers of the war came home, then Alex had to disappear back to Alaska. Years passed, and they were much older, rolled into the military for basic training. Alex, then Private Mason, was the one to find him. From the way he'd grit his teeth and choked back his rebellion, Alex damn near tackled him when they were dismissed and the crowd dispersed. Time did nothing to break their bond, but the two of them grew into different men; Alex became a captain, joined the CIA, and then went and got himself married.

Frank stunk of good weed and exotic beer and the best sex 5 dollars could buy. Sweet perfume and his shit cologne clung to his sweat. The ghost of a ladyboy's hips fit nicely in his calloused palms. She was delectable, slender and tall with a glow Frank only had the pleasure to admire from afar; nice and tight, moaning into the motel mattress he pushed her into as he rutted into that delicious spot in her ass and made her cum. It was nice, but all he could really think of while fucking her was of his lips dreaming of the seam to Alex's shoulder and neck, and how much sweeter he would've sounded under him. He would've fit better.

His cock was half-mast, and his sloppy fuck with a cheap whore wasn't good enough. Frank couldn't decide if he was drunk and stupid enough to jerk off then and there. He gruffed, took a hand and trailed down his stomach. Hooked a thumb under the waistband of his dusty fatigues and furrowed his brow. Frank just laid down but was too restless to stay down. He swung a heavy leg out and levered himself up with a small groan. He shoved a hand into his pocket, pinning his partial boner down. When he turned his head to look to the door, the world spun. It was a struggle to toddle his way out, stumbling over himself like a fool - nothing out of the ordinary for him at this hour. Frank kept an unsteady yet brisk pace to the washroom, praying that nobody was there and nobody would come as his shoes squeaked against the floor. At the doorway, he pivoted on the flats of his feet. A sharp turn right and he sat himself in a dark corner. Frank shifted the hold on his cock, kneading the tip to keep himself going before taking back his hand. Pulling his waistband down, he fished himself out and held his cock. He shuddered at the lukewarm chill kissing his length.

Frank sucked in a breath. He pumped his hand and settled into an slow, easy pace, letting his mind drift.

He knew Alex. For well over 30 fucking years, from the sad little brat he met back in Pennsylvania to the war machine he was now, he knew him.

Frank knew his skin. The salt of his muddied palms, always smelling of pine and fresh air - it washed out the taste of decay on his tongue and cleared out the weeks of rot from his lungs. Alex hoisted him up, dragging him through the jungle to safety, his strength - the muscles under that skin, forever pressed into his sickly frame - now filled in with good fat and vigor. Frank was never a religious man - God did nothing for him. Alex Mason was a god damn angel; the halo of harsh sunlight glowing around his head. Frank could kiss the ground he walked on, and praise him, his salvation.

He snuck another hand down and tenderly kneaded at the heavy sack between his legs. Frank bit back a groan. His slick hand slipped to his wet tip. He worked out a heavy bead of precum with a thumb. Wishing for Alex's touch, anything would work. Anything. Alex could beat him within an inch of his life and he'd cum, but knowing that Alex would never have the heart to do that felt so fucking nice - it brought him closer to the edge, tying tight knots in his stomach.

God, he wanted him so bad. So he'll steal Alex away, adore him, and fuck him endlessly in his paltry dreams.

In his dreams, he'd make Alex come undone - beautifully - and build him back up; again and again, over and over, and make him forget of everything wrong in his life. Frank would take him down to the hilt and do his damn best to not gag. He'd listen to Alex's ragged breathing and incoherent babbling as he grabbed desperate handfuls of Frank's hair and struggle between wanting more and needing a breather. 'Oh god, Frank. Holy fucking shit,' he'd say, 'I can't - fuck I can't - !' And when the younger man'd cum, Frank would lap him up with a smile and swallow it down. And in the afterglow, Alex would smiled at him. He wanted that smile. But it was never going to be his.

With a strangled in-between of a groan and a sob, Frank gripped his cock hard as he came into his hand. All the want and shame came out in ropes and spilled hot into his palm. With a guilty, hollow look in his eyes he sat there, panting and sweating himself sober.

If it wasn't a crime, he'd love him. He'd love him until the bitter end of the world.

If it wasn't a crime, he'd dare to say he loved him.

[ajenvs3000w23]

Blog 10: FINAL

As an individual nature interpreter, my most suitable approaches, as in the ones that appeal to my strengths, are analogies and telling stories. One of my favourite parts of recording my first podcast was telling stories to our audience. Having already emailed the podcast file to a few neighbours and relatives, I know that the stories were enjoyed, as was the whole podcast. For example, I emailed the podcast to one neighbour so he could share it with his eight-year-old son, and his son’s immediate follow-up questions were as follows: “Where do you record the podcast?” as well as “Are there any more episodes coming out?” It warmed my heart to know he'd said that, and his dad even called me “a natural” when it came to my presentation as being part of a podcast. As for the beliefs that I bring, I strongly believe that those go hand-in-hand with what I consider my responsibilities to be. This is a recurring topic that I cover in my blog posts, but my belief system is that nature must be treated with respect. This means that I consider it of the utmost importance that people remember that nature does not exist for our amusement, and wild animals just want to be left alone. There is a saying about how one should interact with nature: “Take only photos, leave only footprints.” I can’t even remember the origin of that saying, but I think it perfectly encapsulates my views on how humans should interact with nature (it is likely an idea articulated by the National Park Service). People can also receive education about the natural world by visiting zoos…but certain fiascos can occur at zoos, and as a nature interpreter, I desperately want to ensure that anyone who learns from me learns to never behave like any of the people in these following anecdotes. In Arizona, a woman in her thirties got right up against the bars of a jaguar enclosure to take a selfie with a jaguar (Associated Press, 2019). The jaguar clawed this woman through the bars, and she had to be hospitalized so her injuries could be sutured up. In an even more brazen act of selfishness and foolishness, a video also appeared online of a young man taunting an orangutan inside a cage just to get internet clout (Casual Geographic, 2022). Eventually, the orangutan reached through the bars and attempted to pull the young man’s shirt off. The narrator of this video pointed out that if the situation had escalated too far, quote, “…the zoo, one hundred percent, would’ve taken out the orangutan to save the guy, even though orangutans are endangered and dumbasses on the internet are kind of overpopulating.” If readers here will excuse the crude language, I must emphasize the level of respect and admiration I have for this quote and the message it is meant to leave us with. The internet has exposed us to the sheer volume of humans engaging with wildlife in a foolish and therefore dangerous way. So, regarding my responsibilities as a nature interpreter, as I said before, it is my responsibility to never behave like the people mentioned above and do all I can to also teach other people to never behave in such a manner. In this final post, I had to describe my personal ethic. Well, I won’t stay on that subject too long as my personal ethic is basically a rehash of the beliefs I bring to this profession. Leave wildlife alone and show it some respect. I certainly believe that in the long run, the spreading of this message through various forms nature interpretation will provide a massive benefit for environmental sustainability. My podcast group and I attempted to convey this message in a nicer way to our audience, telling children to remember that nature is not there for your amusement, and you cannot expect it to do as you please. While I have been teaching other people about animals and nature for a very long time through the stories that I tell, I never realized how important of a tool that is until taking this course. Thank you, everyone, for the experience. Especially my podcast group. No need to namedrop them here; they know who they are.

References

Associated Press. (2019, March 11) Jaguar attacks woman who climbed Arizona zoo barrier to take a selfie. The Guardian: US News.

Casual Geographic. (2022, June 24) When Stupidity Goes Viral (with a wholesome twist) [Video] YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K6rocZbplkI&t=2s

[emmg]

FINALLY done with all my work which means I spent the day catching up on my reading. You know what that means *rubs hands*

“Tell me, does Mazzanti ring a bell?” >>> I am going to take off his belt and beat his face with it lmfaoooo. NO RAPHAEL NO, normal working class people DO NOT know what a freaking Mazzanti is. GET OUT OF HERE with your "casual everyday" Ferrari. Oh my goooooddd I hate him so much but I also need him carnally. He makes me so mad but I still want him. He's sooooo arrogant and so rich and so the embodiment of everything that is wrong with capitalism but I'd still kneel for him. This is the type of rich dude who will tell you how nice you look and then later go ew is that from Marshall's? And then wash his hands because god forbid his skin touches anything other than pure cashmere.

Anyway moving on lmfao.

Raphael pulling into suburbia in his Ferrari to pick her up. How noble of him to venture out of his ivory tower to see how the plebs live, wade through the muck and filth of roads in non-gated communities. He's like:

Oh man it's a short excerpt but it gave me so much joy lmaooo. I can practically smell him. The leather interior, the cologne, I'm sure he has some mints stashed somewhere, maybe he smoked a cigarette earlier idk (ik ik, but I actually enjoy cigarette smoke on a man, sue me lmfao)

I can't decide if Raphael would be the type to overtip the valet in advance to make sure his car doesn't get scratched or if he's more of a glare-you-down-do-you-know-who-my-father-is kinda guy. Probably both, depending on the mood lol

And now I'm imagining him running into his dad at the restaurant and suddenly he's a lil bitch in front of his date because daddy is even a bigger deal than he is and oh would you look at that, he actually likes his date and orders an even more expensive bottle of wine than Raphael initially did and now it's a pissing contest and Charly's there like lol k at least im not paying

Which of course means after he's grumpy but then she tells him his dad is annoying and ooof that's the hottest thing ever, instant boner, they fuck in the bathroom, the waiter gets a huge tip. Charly wonders if these types of places do doggy bags for leftovers, cue Raphael dragging a hand down his face like omg she's an uncultured swine

And Tav's like stfu this beluga caviar costs 1/3 of my rent, I'm taking them home

Oh man now I'm just making up scenarios in my head, but this premise is so fun to me and I'm having so much fun reading it and so much fun imagining stuff and ----

So I'm not sure how She's Just That Girl is gonna go, but I am SO FUCKING HERE FOR IT. Like I'm feral, clawing at the bars of my enclosure, and now just because I'm in it loool

I was kicking my feet and GIGGLING and wheezing and clapping my hands like a seal loooool

No but fr I am such a HOE for the premise of Raphael manifesting in the real world and taking an interest in "you." Omg yes give me. Partly because of the potential for the sheer undiluted psychological horror. Like seriously yeah you can obviously make it hilarious, and it should be hilarious where applicable. But also consider this:

The gaslighting. Because you try to tell yourself it’s not real. This isn’t possible. It’s Raphael, a fictional character. And no one else sees him. Or rather they do see him, but they see a person, simply a person, who maybe looks like him but is utterly ordinary, absolutely human, not whatever it is you believe him to be. No one else feels him. You’re alone in this nightmare, and the isolation is choking.

There’s no way to explain it to anyone. “Hey, so, uh, Raphael from bg3 is, like, real now? And haunting me? And I think he’s winning?” Yeah, no. They’d either laugh or have you committed but tbh at this point you’d take the padded room if you thought it’d get him out of your head.

But it doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop. He’s everywhere. In your shadow. In your dreams. In the flicker of a reflection that shouldn’t be smiling. You think, maybe if I just break something, something big, like a mirror, like myself, maybe I’ll snap out of it. Maybe I’ll wake up.

Because isn’t this what you wanted? A break from reality? An escape into the fictional? To be special? To perch on the devil’s lap and feel his fingers trace circles down your spine while he smiles like he knows every filthy little thought in your head? Isn’t this what you fantasized about while reading all those ridiculous fanfics? Isn’t this exactly what you begged the universe for when the monotony of dishes and day jobs felt like too much?

You didn’t want to scrub plates. You wanted to scrub blood off marble, your hands trembling, while he praised, while he called you a good girl. You didn’t want a life of bills and deadlines; you wanted magic and crown; magical, unstable orbs; and the thrill of stepping across planes into the unknown. You wanted to be noticed. Wanted to matter. And now now he’s here. Raphael himself, your shameful 2d desire. Offering it all on a silver platter.

But isn’t it funny how the fantasy didn’t tell you about the terror? The way his words would throttle your thoughts, making you question if they’re even yours anymore? How his image, and now even yours, scatters in a hundred fragments of glass, of that mirror you keep breaking again and again because you see him in it when no one else does, the same mirror that is always whole the day after. You wonder if it’s mocking you; or worse, if it’s him, stitching the pieces back together so you’ll break again. Because you will, won’t you? You’ll break it again. You’ll break yourself again.

And in the morning it's back to your part time job.

Anywhooooooo, don't mind me, just the ol' mind going crazy with ideas now that I've been fed good soup hehe

I know there’s a template for it somewhere or whatever but to be entirely honest I don’t give a flying fuckity fuck about finding it so anyway ~

*bangs on pots and pans*

WIP ✨WHENEVER✨

I nominate (and by nominate I mean tag lmao) @thessaralka as the resident solavellan expert, @heylittleriotact as fellow emmrich brainrot enthusiast, and @adinfernumadinfinitum as my raphael crack dealer aka yall embody my current three hyperfixations, congratulations, you’ve won nothing lmao

I can’t sleep and saw someone else do it so now I’m doing it too because I’m ~creative and original~