#every day is a struggle trying not to quit

[prettyboyrxpist]

Im glad someone is already talking about this. Because if i bring it up umprompted it barely even sounds real.

My boyfriend and i have a level of sexual compatibility that is reserved for horny fanfiction characters.

My top 3 high scores on my puppy's cunt are

40

54

And 111

Id gotten into the habit of making him count whenever our girlfriend made him cum 17 times.

I forced him to 26 the next time i saw him. I made sure to play with my rythm, depth and force whenever i felt his hungry little pussy try to squeeze the cum outta me.

I am competitive.

I dont use toys, its all my hands mouth and cock,

Like 91% my cock.

Admittedly 36, the next record was probably the most emotional. Wed been broken up for a while and reclaiming my mutt meant fucking him like hed never been fucked before, big emotional, big gratifying. 40 was less of a cool story even if it was a more intense session.

During 2024's Pride parade i ate a psychadelic mushroom chocolate bar and then marched for the liberation of Palestine.

It has always made me feel a sort of frustration to see more privileged queer folks treat pride like a party, like our fight for our rights is a thing of the past and not the ongoing struggle it is. As such i was quite tensed up despite the good wed done that day.

And i let every drop of my frustration out on my mutt.

I bent him over and fucked him like i was trying to fuck him to death.

He clenched, he screamed, he cried, he clawed at the sheets, he did whatever the fuck he could do to cope with me impaling him, I was relentless.

The desperation, the Panic in his voice when he got to 41 and pissed all over our bed is something i will remember vividly until i die.

When i finally erupted inside him at 54 i was screaming like a fucking caveman.

Id love to tell the story about 111 but that took like 3 hours and im tired of typing atm, but ill def tell it a future post.

I take overstimulation extremely seriously just so we’re all aware.

Most I’ve ever made a guy cum was 27 times in one session and all of those happened in the span of about 5-10 minutes

Got him really warmed up and started fucking him with a dildo while I alternated between whispering in his ear, biting his neck, playing with his chest etc. After only a minute or two he shyly muttered out that he was going to cum. I stopped, stared directly at him and we had this brief, telling moment of eye contact before he got so embarrassed he had to turn away. We both knew he was under the impression he couldn’t cum without touching his dick and the fact he almost just did was so fucking hot to me.

I pinned his leg over my shoulder and continued. Within a minute he was back to how he was before, just on the verge and I kept moving it while he shook beneath me. Finally let up after he came all over my hand and I asked if he’d cum sarcastically to make fun of how obvious and hard it was and he just whimpered out “… I came twice”

He absolutely should not have told me this because as soon as I knew making him cum over and over was on the table I was determined to go as far as I possible could, and hearing him say two like that was addictively cute. I Pinned him even more and continued, told him to count every time he cums before quickly getting back into it.

27 times I made this very masc dude cum. 27!

Didn’t even think that was a possible number. Every 15-30 seconds I’d feel him tense up and clench on the dildo then I’d hear his little chocked voice murmur out a number before I kept going. He made a giant fucking mess, squirting basically each time in the beginning. I kept moving the goal post further and further, “come on let’s just get to 10 puppy!”, “I think we could do 15 don’t you?”, “Whoops that was a 16th one, well we might as well get to twenty, right?”. He was fully trembling, shaking, crying. His eyes were in constant state of being rolled back and the noises he was making were so intense. The best part was hearing him count though, it was the only coherent thing he would say and he struggled to get out each number but if he didn’t count I’d start choking him.

Hearing a grown man moan out “25” or whatever ridiculous number we were on has to be one of the hottest things I’ve experienced. I would have kept going forever but he was begging and pleading for me to stop and for some reason I don’t think he believed that I’d really let him be done at 30

He was a complete fucking mess after as you’d imagine. Basically just sat there in a daze for 10 minutes but I made sure to make fun of him. I mean 27? Really? Just an embarrassingly high number. He also physically couldn’t handle any play for like several days after this so safe to say I throughly worked him out.

I guess now my goal in life will be to get someone to 30

[loganhowlettshousewife]

logan howlett x latina!reader

series masterlist - my masterlist

“i need to learn spanish,” logan says out of the blue as you’re carefully doing your makeup. he likes to watch you get ready in the mornings, and though you don’t understand his fascination with the process you’ve been doing for years, it’s nice to have him around.

“is there a reason for this?” you ask, trying not to allow the conversation to distract you from the task at hand. you’ve gotten good at this, at both getting ready and talking to him, having conversations about everything and nothing, the kind of conversations he would never have with anyone else.

you met logan a few months ago, when he accompanied a group of mutant kids to canada, almost dying in the process to save them. he’d been on the verge of death when you found him, skin sallow and pale from the intense blood loss, breathing ragged. it hits you sometimes how lucky you are to have found him in time, to have been able to bring him back to his daughter - every day you��re infinitely grateful.

he’s struggled to adapt to life here. eden, a sanctuary for mutants that reminds him a bit too much of the x-mansion, the place where everything in his life went wrong. where he’d let his guard down little by little, letting people see past his mask, making relationships only to watch them all die. he could do nothing to save them.

so he hardly interacts with anyone other than you and laura kinney, his daughter, though lately she’s decided she wants everyone to call her laura howlett. the look on logan’s face when he told you was one you’d never forget: joy and fear and confusion, adoration for his little girl tinged with the anxiety of knowing that anyone close to him usually suffered terribly.

“laura,” he grumbles, which is the answer you expected. despite living in mexico for quite a few years, he didn’t pick up much spanish, and certainly not enough to understand laura’s rapid-fire quips. “she always says shit in spanish when she doesn’t want me to know what she’s sayin’.”

you laugh. laura’s a bright kid, and it’s true that she enjoys insulting logan in spanish, but only at the same frequency as her english insults towards him. most of the time her spanish comments are neither good nor bad, just stream of consciousness comments. she enjoys logan’s frustration at not being able to understand her, so really it doesn’t matter what she says, just that he hears it.

“i can try to teach you,” you reply, “but i’ve never taught anyone a language before, so be warned i may not be good at it.”

“a lot of people here speak spanish. i didn’t ask them.” logan says, “you’re the only person i can stand bein’ around for more than a few minutes, so you got a better shot than anyone else.”

you feel a rush of giddy excitement flow through you in response to his words. it’s not a secret that you find logan horribly, unbearably attractive with his salt-and-pepper hair and his beard and his deep eyes and his arms and honestly you could spend hours listing every one of his attractive features.

the point is, you want to kiss him stupid, and with the way he lingers around you in moments like these, makeup half-done and your bedsheets still rumpled from sleep, makes you hope that he might feel the same. maybe spending more time together is just what you need to figure it out.

“we can start tomorrow.” you agree.

diversity december taglist: @raeinyourdreams @meetmypointlessaddiction @chubbyhedgehog @yxtkiwiyxt @isepod @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes @deaky-with-a-c

latina reader: @naggywaggy @mami-veracruz @spencerswh0r3 @taextannie @gl1ndathegoodwitch @uncertified-doc

[12thhouse-sun]

a bene placito

Gale x f!Tav

1.9k words

Explicit

AO3 Link

Tags: PWP, Cockwarming, Fluff, Inappropriate Use of Mage Hand. Literally just smut.

banner from @saradika

“You’re chipper for a man who had not three, not four, but six glasses of port last night.”

“That is because I have a talented, beautiful, benevolent wife who will cast Lesser Restoration at a moment’s notice and I would be a boor if I did not show her my utmost gratitude.”

There is a slight chill to the room that sparks goosebumps all over her skin, but Poppy doesn’t complain due to her warm and very naked husband laying on top of her. Gale’s lips traverse her collarbone and shoulders, sucking and biting his way across. Both of his large hands cup a breast each, oh so gently kneading the soft flesh in the way he knows riles her up.

“I think you just liked my tits in that dress I wore last night and you’re sore that you didn’t get to do anything about it until now.”

That cheeky Dekarios smirk tugs at the corners of his lips but the words that come out don’t match the look. “My stars, you know better than anyone that I don’t need any reason to worship your body. Though, if I had to have one, that dress would certainly qualify.”

Said dress is draped over her dressing screen, peeled off late last night once all of their guests went home. Their annual Midwinter party was a rousing success, too successful even. Poppy had hoped to sneak away with Gale at some point in the evening, but the tasks of hosts never dwindles. As such they were busy socializing and tending to their guests long into the evening and once they were alone Gale was too drunk and both were too exhausted to do anything about it, crawling into bed and passing out expeditiously.

Now, with the clarity that comes with the immediacy of a Lesser Restoration-cured hangover and a good night’s sleep, her husband initiates what they both missed out on last night.

Gale’s hands move with purpose, one of them skating down her side and over her ass, squeezing a little before gripping her thigh and hooking it over his own. His hot arousal presses against her abdomen insistently, a wordless promise.

She rolls her hips in an attempt to get her to touch her where she wants to most. Gale’s hands and mouth have been distinctly nowhere near her core, the ever-loving tease that he is, and she is not above begging. Gale chuckles into her neck but doesn’t otherwise move, continuing instead to coax bruises to bloom on her skin with every hard suck and bite.

“Gale,” Poppy whines, trying to roll her hips into his again.

“Mmmm I am quite busy at the moment, my love,” he murmurs between each kiss. “Do you need something?”

“I need you to touch me you insufferable man,” she gasps right as the hand on her breast tugs on her nipple sharply.

“But I am touching you—is this not acceptable? You know I always strive to do whatever it takes to make you feel good.” His eyes finally meet hers and they’re black as night and that smirk is now fully-formed as he revels in his power.

“Taste me, finger me, fuck me, please—”

“As you wish.” Gale surges up and Poppy is left cold without him pressed against her. He sits back on his heels and his hands move in a familiar motion. Poppy feels a tingling behind her knees that almost makes her laugh as two mage hands push her legs back and spread them, fully exposing her to her lover.

It’s been five years since Baldur’s Gate. Five years since they found each other, caught each other. They’re no longer struggling for food on the road, no longer walking miles and miles a day or working their bodies fighting for their lives. Gale sits before her, delightfully soft and alive. Scars from difficult injuries are long-faded, the orb now just a faint suggestion of a shape, and even more gray hairs dot his beard and course through his brown locks. It’s been five years since they fell in love and Poppy finds these days that she has somehow fallen even more in love with him, and has become even more attracted to him.

His own hands now free to do what they please, they graze along the soft inside of her thighs, making her tremble. The cool air has turned her nipples to hardened buds. They have not escaped Gale’s notice. Leaning forward, he sucks one bejeweled nipple into his mouth as one of his hands begins rubbing circles around the bundle of nerves at her center.

Her body reacts faster than her mouth at his touch, her hips quivering at his attentions but it’s when he bites her breast that suddenly her orgasm no longer seems far away. Gale doesn’t stop, doesn’t stutter; his deft fingers keep working her as if nothing has changed.

Poppy’s breaths come in gasps now and her hands scrabble for purchase in his soft hair. The moan she summons from him warms her chest and fills her with satisfaction. He may be leading this dance but it’s always reassuring to see that she still affects him as much as he affects her.

“Gale,” she moans, high-pitched and wanting. He growls against her chest now, his free hand shooting up to tug on her hair, arching her head back to expose her neck to him. Gale lavs on her throat with abandon and now that he’s pushed farther up her body, the hard and weeping head of his cock nudges her thigh.

His hand on her clit caresses her folds, drawing out her pleasure until he slips two fingers into her center, making her cry out his name again.

“Quite ready for me, aren’t you?” he whispers huskily into her ear, beard tickling the shell.

“Fuck please, please Gale.” Poppy’s mind reels with pleasure as his fingers curl inside her over and over and over.

Just as quickly as he starts, his hand is gone and she cries out at their absence. Poppy is about to question him when instead his hand in her hair grabs her hand, settling it over her head. His free hand directs his length to her entrance and he sheaths himself inside her in one fluid motion.

Their collective groans is a song, a harmony they have long practiced. Settling between her legs, Gale’s hands slide up her arms to link with hers above her head and he kisses her deeply.

Gale lays there unmoving while his hard cock throbs inside of her and Poppy trembles with anticipation. He has effectively trapped her, locked hands above her head and legs spread wide as they are with his dual mage hands.

It’s as if he were made for her, as if they were meant for each other this whole time. Even though there was a point where Poppy thought they wasted years not acting upon something that clearly was meant to be, it was only properly meant to be as it came together. They’re meant for each other now until the end of their days.

He has mastered her, truly. Everything is effortless with him, including her orgasms. Time is an illusion when they fuck and this is no different, but in these moments where their bodies are practically one and locked in place as she is, it’s as if she’s reached another level of pleasure. Poppy loves being close to Gale and despite the sweat that forms between them she glows in the sensation. He hasn’t moved but suddenly the crash is there, waves of pleasure pulsing through her as his cock warms itself within her; the stretch of his cock and the press of him against her body are enough. He is always enough.

“Sweet hells,” Gale groans. “I will never tire of feeling your ecstasy around me. Every time serves as a reminder as to how lucky I am to be able to pleasure you.”

His hips start moving then at the peak of her overstimulation. It’s so good and too much and just right all at once. Gale’s favorite thing is to draw out their pleasure for as long as possible but he reveals himself and how far gone he is when he doesn’t measure his pace. Her wizard’s ruts into her relentlessly, hips pistoning against hers as if they were on a time limit.

“Fuck, fuck,” Poppy cries as he tugs her pleasure to the forefront once more.

“Are you going to come for me again? You sound so sweet when you sing for me. A song only I get to hear, something all for me.”

If it were warm enough to keep their windows open, there would be no denying to passers-by outside what is happening in this room. The vulgar sounds of their bodies slapping together and their mutual keens of rapture are explicit and undeniable.

“You astonish me,” he gasps as he fucks her. “I have lost count how often I’ve bedded you but each time feels like the first. It is a privilege to stand beside you and call myself yours, and a luxury to be the one you call home.”

How he manages to keep talking and find new things to say every time is the truly astonishing thing, but Poppy’s not one to converse or needle him when in this position. Gale is quite effective at trumping those desires, making room only for one desire between them.

“Come for me, come for me my love. I need to feel you fall apart again. Can you do that for me?”

Anything. She’d do anything for him. And the fact that he’s asking her to come? Not the first time but the second time today? It’s the easiest decision she’ll make all day. It’s not even a decision but rather an inevitability. He knows her too well and gods she wants to make him come his brains out too.

Their shared breath is hot where they pant into each other’s mouths. Gale’s hair drapes around her face and shuts the rest of the world out so she can only focus on him. His eyes are desperate and all-consuming and that pout has always been her weakness.

“Yes Gale yes!” Poppy cries, finding her peak and falling over the other side. Her hips thrash against his stuttering ones as he comes with her, hands clenching hers as if she were actually falling.

Sweat clings to her skin like her favorite dress, Gale more than willing to help her remove it. He licks at her salty skin between heaving breaths, making Poppy twitch and shake in the overstimulation.

Gale releases her hands and it’s an effort to lift them to drape over his own sweat-soaked back. His mouth doesn’t stop working, cleaning her neck and shoulders with his tongue.

“I think a bath would be easier, love,” Poppy pants, exhausted.

“That will have to wait, unfortunately. I am not quite done with you yet.”

Gale lifts himself up on one arm and cups her face with the other hand. His thumb pulls at her bottom lip and his eyes dance across her face. “Yes, I am nowhere near done with you.”

Poppy can feel his cock softening inside her but his face betrays his enduring arousal. “Whatever you want,” she hums. “Whatever you have in mind I’m sure I’ll love it.”

“Indeed you will, my heart. Now roll over, I have not paid nearly enough attention to your derrière and I cannot abide by my temporary disregard any longer.”

@dr-demi-bee @lanafofana @spooky-lil-bee @feedthepheasants @waterdeep-weavemoss @crimson-and-lavender @pouroverpaloma @marlowethebard

[llively-12]

All I Need

(Let Down part 2)

-------------------------------------------------------

-------------------------------------------------------

Park Jihyo x female reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of cheating, a bit suggestive at the end

Story: What had been broken, could also be fixed.

Authors note: A big thank you to the person who requested a part two! I'm happy for every interaction I get on my fanfics. Big love to everyone who has been liking my posts♡. Enjoy the read♥︎

-------------------------------------------------------

'What was broken could also be fixed.'

That's what eight year old Jihyo thought after breaking one of her mothers precious vases. While chasing after her siblings, she accidentally knocked the expensive object over and caused it to shatter into many pieces.

Now she was sitting at the table in her bedroom with a glue bottle in her hand, trying to fix the mess that she had made. It wasn't exactly easy to figure out which pieces belonged together and how to arrange them, but she would invest every second she had to ensure that this vase would be fixed.

The work was hard and painful, but Jihyo put her best efforts into putting the vase together. In the end, she had a decent result. The vase was almost the same as before. No, it was even better. The vase created a completely new image. The colours now create a different picture. It gave the vase a fresh new look.

Jihyo was, of course, scolded for the action. Her mother loved the vase, and she was quite sad after she found out that Jihyo had broken it. To her surprise, the result Jihyo came up with was even better than her previous vase. The new creation gave her so much joy and a whole different perspective that she put it into the entry. Jihyo's mom proudly showed the remade vase to everyone entering the house.

◇

The weeks after the finished collaboration were rough. Jihyo moved out of the once shared apartment. You were not really talking to her. Only acknowledging her when it was nessacery. What broke Jihyo the most were the ripped up pictures she found one day. That was apparently your way of dealing with everything, just breaking stuff out of frustration.

Of course, she understood the struggles you had. She still couldn't figure out what brought her to the decision to cheat on you. Nothing ever made her question her relationship until that point. To her relief, the short fling with the male artist quickly ended after the collaboration. He returned back to the States without messaging Jihyo. What an asshole. She put the most important thing in her life onto the edge just to be ghosted.

Well karma is a bitch and it was all over Jihyos face. The ripped up picture pieces lay secure in her bedside table at the new apartment. She would never let these go or the relationship with you. Everything that had been broken could also be fixed. That mindset burned into Jihyo's head as she made out a plan to win you back.

◇

Work drowned out your insecure thoughts. The books were kind of your saviour. After things with Jihyo partially ended, you felk into a consumerism spiral and bought every book revolving about love, relationship drama, and most importantly, murdering your ex.

You were so pent up with frustration that the poor books and customers had to suffer under the emotional mess of your life. Friends and family were your biggest supporters, but after a while, you found more solitude by drowning yourself into the world of books. They gave you the perfect scenarios to imagine. Scenarios that could've happened with Jihyo, too.

You tried to ignore her or everything evolving around her, but you live in South Korea. The streets are plastered with her face. The internet is filled with commercials that include her or even her voice. The radio plays the same Twice songs. You could never really escape her, even if you wanted to.

◇

Jihyo turned the key to your once shared apartment. There were still things that she needed to get. You were sitting on the couch, almost unbothered. You tried so hard not to care when she was around, but then her eyes met yours, and suddenly, everything started crashing down on you.

She would comfort you, hold you close to her, and you would let her. In the end, you would do everything to keep her. Being back in her securing embrace made you calm down. She always had a calming effect on you.

"I am going to fix this."

Her promise was sure and determined. You know jihyo. She pulls things through until they're done. She keeps her promise.

◇

The bed felt different this morning. Another weight pushed the mattress further down into the wooden bedframe. Her black hair is spread out across the pillow case. Her breathing, soft and gentle, casts through the air like a nostalgic melody. Her fingers wrap around the fabric of your shirt.

Jihyo sleeping next to you in bed was not something you thought you'd be waking up to any time soon. Both of you were still hurt and broken from her cheating. You never knew how much she was affected by her actions, but you also partially didn't care. She made that decision, and now she had to live with the consequences.

You take her hand off your shirt and leave the bedroom. The audacity she had, sleeping in your bed, next to you. You walk into the guest bedroom. The bed there wasn't as comfortable as your own, but you don't want to sleep next to Jihyo. At least not now.

Over the course of the last week, things changed. You started talking to her again and let her back into the apartment. Both of you actually settled for her sleeping in the guest room. That quickly changed, though, as she started sneaking into your room and sleeping next to you.

You started arguments over this, but at the end of the day, it was never enough for you to actually stay mad at her. Everything you tried shattered down the cliffs of her care for you. Ironically, she was the one caring for you when you were crying about the things she did.

Like always, she found a way back into your heart. Slowly but surely, she'd crawl back in like nothing happened. That's what she always did, and you could never hold her back. It's like you needed her more than oxygen. Like the air, your breath wasn't enough to fill you up to keep you functioning. She was like a siren, calling you back into the depths of her ocean at any time she wanted to.

◇

Evenings like these were normal once. A wine glass in your right hand, and a book in your left. The cushion of the couch comforted your back as you were lying against it. Jihyo sits at the other end of the couch. Her actions are the same as yours.

Her wine glass is almost empty. The second bottle of wine has already been opened and put on the small coffee table. Usually, Jihyo was more into beer. She would always order the bitter liquid on night outs. Here at 'home', she would enjoy a nice wine with you.

Her eyes are trained on the book in her hand. She's reading some romance drama novel you got her before the whole breakup drama. She always enjoyed your taste in literature. Her love for reading was actually quite unexpected. In the beginning, you only got to see her love for sports or her job. Yet after the first few walls of your relationship crumbled, she revealed more of her true self.

Things got better now. You could eat dinner with her again, sit next to her, or engage in a casual chat with her without thinking about the past events. Jihyo made a lot of effort to try to win you back. Of course you had noticed. Her actions never really subtle.

While thinking, your eyes were trained on her. Jihyo had to bite back a small smile. She wanted nothing more than to have you back as hers again. Regretting everything that happened and that she wasn't faithful to you. Jihyo wanted you back, more than anything in the world. She had made a fool of herself and mostly you.

Nothing would go back to the way it once was, but she could make something new out of it. You both could, together, like you always used to. Giving life a new perspective.

Every time Jihyo thought things were hopeless, she thought back to the broken vase. The effort she had put into something simple as glueing back together the shards of porcelain would give her the boost she needed. Like she did back then, she would now put her effort into repairing this mess. She would glue your broken pieces back together.

◇

Her kisses felt like little butterflies gracing your skin. You could never get enough of the feeling of her. Another night of enjoying some wine and books turned into kisses and caresses. It shouldn't be like this. You should hate her, and you have every right to.

Her mouth drags over your neck, only stopping to give your skin a wet kiss. A sigh escapes your lips. She knew all of your weak spots. Her hands hold onto your waist underneath your shirt. The skin of her hand is soft and delicate.

Your hands hold onto her tank top, fingers occasionally scratching the tanned skin underneath. Gasps escaped her lips. Jihyo was very vocal about her likes and dislikes. She leaned closer to you, her muscles tensing under your touch, but in a good way.

Your hand meets her cheek and pulls her head up for a soft kiss. The kiss holds emotions you nor she could ever express. Sometimes, actions do speak more than words. Jihyo knew how to transport the right message with her gestures.

"You're all I need." She rasps out, her voice breathless and almost hoarse. Her eyes meet yours, the brown orbs filled with hope and need. You've never seen her look at you like this.

Maybe you just need to let your guard down and love her again. The universe would never send you someone again who would look at you like this. The rawness of love, right in front of your face. Your head nods without much thought, and you lean in for another kiss.

◇

[2ndkaiser]

⋆˚࿔ WINTER WONDERLAND

Headcanons of the crew celebrating Christmas

Word count: 1287

Sorry I disappeared for a bit, I got pneumonia and was so sick I couldn’t write. Merry belated Christmas.

Warnings: Brief mention of: slight injury, alcohol, implication of bad childhood

⟡ ݁₊ . Notes: Not proofread. I quite literally wrote this in the hospital so I genuinely don’t know if this is ooc for some characters so apologies if they are.

CURLY

Assigned to put up the Christmas tree and to prepare the Christmas movie marathon.

Quietly struggled to put the tree in place and had the tree collapse on him multiple times resulting in a few trips to the medbay. Now has those round cartoon bumps on his head.

Had to pry Jimmy away from getting into a heated argument over a missing Polle ornament.

Gave everyone presents wrapped with bright pink wrapping paper with ugly gingerbread men.

Genuinely thought the wrapping was cute so nobody told them it looked like a bunch of mini disfigured Igor album covers arranged in a pattern. (I’m not saying the cover is ugly I swear I love Tyler.)

Turned the sofa into a cozy area with blankets scattered everywhere, pillows in every corner, snacks in a little basket. It’s oddly surprising how the ship could look this much like home.

Fell asleep drowning in blankets after the party, also had the deepest sleep of his entire life with arms wrapped around pillows, drooling, weighted blanket on his side. No one knew he was there until Anya woke him up the next day.

JIMMY

Assigned as the tree decorator. Reluctantly let others put up their own ornaments too.

Couldn’t find a star so he made one himself with paper and yellow markers stolen from Daisuke, hence the crumbled origami star sitting on top of the tree.

“Accidentally” knocked over the “make your own hot chocolate” bar because it was decorated better than his tree. Framed Curly.

Secretly was really excited to cuddle under blankets and watch cheesy, poorly made Christmas movies. He misses how lively the city looked during the festive season and crappy Christmas movies seemed to fill the void just fine.

Has a peppermint flavored candy cane addiction. Ate a whole box and stole a second box to store under his bed.

Told everyone he hated his gifts but if you squint really closely you can see a slight smile on his face while opening every single one as he’s finally experiencing the childhood he didn’t get to live.

Never knew he was so bad at tree decorating. The tree fell over multiple times and he had to start over twice. Threw a tantrum and claimed that Curly did a bad job at getting the tree to hold up.

ANYA

Assigned as the hot chocolate bar organizer and the decorator alongside Daisuke.

Made those really cozy “customize your own hot chocolate bars” with different flavors, toppings and mugs. Even decorated it with mini gingerbread houses and snowmen. (Yes, I’m talking about the bar Jimmy knocked over.)

Was in charge of decorating the hallway and put up polaroids of the crew on the walls which ended up never getting removed after the party.

DIY enthusiast. Made heaps of ornaments and painted a lot of them, she invited Daisuke to paint some too.

She even DIY-ed some decor—snowmen made out of white blankets rolled into balls, snow globes made out of a picture stuck on a jar lid screwed onto the jar with water and glitter… that type of stuff.

Got the crew to add songs to a Christmas playlist that would be played during the party. Sadly got all her own songs removed by Jimmy. It’s okay she added them back and put laxatives in his hot chocolate when he wasn’t looking.

DAISUKE

Assigned as decorator with Anya and also the food organizer.

Had lots of fun taste testing all the food while Swansea was cooking. Literally stood by him half of the time with a look in his eye equivalent to whining “can I try some?”

The whole counter at the kitchen was turned into a buffet. At this point the countertop couldn’t be seen and it was completely covered in food and decor. Was really proud when Swansea complimented how it was arranged.

Hums a few Christmas carols while arranging how each plate or bowl was placed. Was actually a perfectionist and didn’t let anyone toucv anything.

Drew a festive yimpy and pinned it beside OG yimpy.

Bow tying might just be his hidden talent, he tied bows out of ribbons for everyone’s presents. Possibly a ribbon bender if you get what I’m saying.

Ate a serving of every dish before the party started without anyone knowing. Woah wait who did that? Wasn’t him. Actually no food was missing at all. Who mentioned food again?

SWANSEA

Assigned as the cook. Hell yeah Swansea get it unc. Also made a bunch of decor.

Honestly I think the crew used some of the cryo pods to store frozen ingredients, that's where Swansea gets a whole turkey from.

Cooking made him feel like he was on earth again, it made him forget how lonely space was. He whipped up a few dishes made from his wife’s recipes. It reminded him of when he used to cook for his family with his mother and wife. Good ol’ days.

There’s a massive light up snowman decoration he made. He actually messed it’s face up a bit and left it with a permanent lazy eye.

Daisuke and Anya placed said snowman in between the door and one of the vending machines. Swansea let out a funky dad scream seeing it. Has a burning hatred towards it now.

Made a Santa hat for Polle because it “felt right.” He actually just felt bad because Polle was excluded.

CREW SECRET SANTA ⊹ ࣪

CURLY

He got a Christmas basket so thoughtfully packed it nearly brought him to tears. Inside were his favorite protein bars, a pack of Biscoff, gift cards to use back on earth, candy canes, and coffee-flavored sweets. He couldn’t have been happier. But the real star of the show? A leather cowboy hat paired with a red bandana with his name engraved right on it. He loved it. Wore it proudly around the ship for weeks before finally tucking it away safely in his quarters, far out of reach from anyone who might dare to steal it. (Jimmy)

JIMMY

When he unwrapped his gift, he didn’t expect anything special. Probably just booze or something generic. But this? A custom pillow with his face on it and a blanket covered in a pattern with all the crew members’ faces? Seriously? Still, it wasn’t all bad. There was a Dexter poster, Take a Look in the Mirror album, and four cans of beer. Not terrible. But then he spotted the note. It read, “I hope Dexter gets you next.” And just like that, it was bad.

ANYA

She really hoped Jimmy wouldn’t draw her name. In fact, she prayed for it. And it seems those prayers worked, because the gifts she received? Absolute top tier. Swansea has kids, he knows how to pick presents. Not that she knows it was him, of course, but it’s obvious the gifts were chosen with care. Books which were already on her wishlist, new board games, medical school supplies she could never afford, jellycats, custom jewelry. It was everything she could have hoped for.

DAISUKE

Probably still leaves out cookies and milk for Santa just in case. But knowing a different Santa was behind this gift? That had him buzzing with excitement. And when he unwrapped a Nintendo and a stash of sweet treats? Pure joy. His Secret Santa even threw in game cards for Splatoon, Overcooked, and Snipperclips... Just like that, his boredom was cured and so was the missing sweetener problem.

SWANSEA

He knew he had the worst luck as soon as he saw how his gift was wrapped, the paper didn’t even cover the whole box. One glance inside confirmed it: a very clearly secondhand pair of sneakers, scuffed with a few marks and a scratch on the back. Not exactly ideal. But hey, at least they were a good pair he didn’t already own. Another one for his collection.

Sorry for being so inactive. Hope you like this, I had to cram it in today so I can go catch up with my other projects. Thanks for reading.

[isak-dot-gov]

Awkward Beginnings

Pairing: Inês Bettencourt x Media Team!Reader

Word count: 1311

My Masterlist :)

The gym was alive with the usual chatter and buzz of sneakers squeaking against polished floors. You moved through it, your camera gear slung over your shoulder, getting used to your new role with the UConn women’s basketball media team. It was a busy but rewarding job, and it kept your mind focused—until a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Hold up—no way! Is that who I think it is?” KK Arnold’s voice rang out, filled with surprise and joy. You turned, a smile forming as soon as you spotted her jogging over, her eyes sparkling with recognition.

“KK!” you laughed, feeling a warmth of nostalgia wash over you as she pulled you into a tight hug. It was strange but comforting to see someone from your high school days after so long.

“Wow, I can’t believe you’re here!” KK said, pulling back with a wide grin. “How did we not know we were going to the same school?”

You shrugged, still trying to process it. “I guess life just got busy. But yeah, I just started with the media team.”

“Perfect! You have to meet everyone,” she said, already grabbing your arm and guiding you through the gym.

She introduced you to the team, pointing out each player with a little anecdote or joke. When you reached the last of the group, KK motioned toward a girl standing near the back. “And this is Inês.”

Inês looked up, and your breath caught for a second. She was striking, her dark hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, eyes deep and expressive. She nodded slightly, and for a fleeting moment, you thought you saw her jaw tense.

“Hi, Inês,” you said, giving her a warm smile. 

“Hello,” she replied, her voice soft and almost unsure, like she wasn’t quite prepared to speak. Her eyes met yours for a second before skittering away, and she shifted on her feet. The silence felt longer than it should have, and when she didn’t say anything more, KK gave you a playful nudge to move on. But the moment lingered in your mind, making you wonder if you’d done something wrong.

Over the next few weeks, the team became a routine part of your life. You captured candid moments during practices, joked with the players, and even shared post-game pizza nights. Most of the team opened up to you quickly, treating you like you’d been part of their world for years. Except Inês.

The first time you tried to approach her alone, she was tying her shoes on the bench, and you’d wanted to ask her about the latest highlight reel. “Hey, Inês, quick question about—”

“Oh!” She nearly dropped her water bottle and fumbled to catch it, her face going red. “Um, sorry. What did you need?” 

“Just wondering if you could tell me what plays you wanted to feature for the reel,” you said, keeping your tone light.

She nodded so fast it was almost comical. “Yeah, sure. I’ll, uh, write it down for you later, okay?” And before you could say anything else, she was halfway across the gym, joining a group of her teammates.

Another time, you were packing up your camera after a game when you noticed her walking by. You decided to wave, offering her a smile. She hesitated for a second, then gave a small wave back but misjudged her step and almost bumped into a cart of basketballs. You could see her cheeks turning red even from a distance as she mumbled an apology to no one in particular and sped off before you could even say hi.

The moment that stuck with you the most, though, was during a team lunch. The cafeteria buzzed with laughter and conversation, and you found yourself seated across from Inês for the first time. You tried to start a casual conversation, but every question seemed to make her more uncomfortable.

“So, how did you end up choosing UConn?” you asked, genuinely interested.

Inês took a sip of her drink too quickly and coughed, her face going red as she struggled to answer. “Um, I—” She cleared her throat. “I just really liked the program.” The last word came out as more of a squeak, and she immediately looked down at her plate, avoiding your eyes.

The silence that followed was heavy, and before you could say anything to ease it, Azzi leaned over and rescued the conversation with a joke about her own first awkward day at UConn. But the whole time, you couldn’t help but notice Inês sneaking glances at you when she thought you weren’t looking, her expression torn between embarrassment and something else you couldn’t quite place.

Despite these moments, your initial excitement about the job was starting to be tinged with confusion. Why was she like this around you? Everyone else had been so easygoing, so friendly. But Inês’s cold silence—and the awkward moments that seemed to define every interaction—was beginning to make you feel like she simply didn’t want you around.

You started keeping your distance, exchanging polite nods when necessary but otherwise trying to spare both of you the awkward encounters.

One evening, the team gathered at Jana’s dorm for a casual night in. The room was filled with laughter, the smell of pizza, and the background noise of a movie that no one was really watching. Inês sat in a corner, fidgeting with her phone, while KK, Azzi, and Paige bantered loudly.

Azzi raised an eyebrow and leaned over to Jana. “Hey, anyone else notice how Inês goes mute whenever Y/n’s around?”

Jana smirked, nodding. ���It’s like she forgets how to talk,” she joked, earning a few chuckles.

Inês’s face flushed, and she put her phone down, unable to ignore the conversation anymore. “It’s not… I just… she makes me nervous, okay?” The words tumbled out, and the room fell silent for a beat.

KK’s eyes softened as understanding dawned on her. “Oh. Oh.”

Inês sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I keep thinking I’ll say something stupid. She’s just… she’s amazing, and I don’t know how to be normal around her.”

Azzi smiled, leaning over to nudge her friend. “Well, you’re definitely not doing yourself any favours by being awkward.”

“Just talk to her, Inês,” Jana added. “Trust me, you’re making this way harder than it has to be.”

Inês nodded slowly, a mix of hope and anxiety flickering in her eyes. Tomorrow, she decided.  Tomorrow, she would find the courage.

The next day, you were setting up equipment by the sidelines when you heard familiar, tentative footsteps behind you. You turned and saw Inês standing there, looking as if she was summoning all her courage just to stay put.

“Hey, Y/n. Do you have a second?” she asked, her voice soft but more determined than before.

You set down your equipment, surprise mixing with curiosity. “Yeah, of course.”

She shifted nervously, but she didn’t break eye contact. “I know I’ve been… off around you, and I’m sorry if that made you feel uncomfortable. It’s not that I don’t like you. It’s… actually the opposite.” She took a shaky breath. “You make me nervous because I think you’re amazing, and I never know what to say.”

A wave of relief washed over you as her words sank in. “Really? I thought you didn’t like me.”

She let out a short, nervous laugh, her shoulders relaxing for the first time. “Not at all. I was wondering… would you maybe want to get coffee sometime? Just us.”

Your smile grew, the tension that had been building for weeks melting away. “I’d love that, Inês.”

Her face brightened, the nervous energy giving way to something softer, more hopeful. And as she walked away, you couldn’t help but feel that this was the start of something new, something that had been worth every awkward moment.

[xchronicles]

.

[julykings]

the last bits of 2023

[criscura]

I want to get to the good part of this blastvoid thing I'm writing but i do NOT want to write the part before it and I'm procrastinating so fucking hard

Like i know what i want and it'll be satisfying but it's like the reverse of eating beef jerky, where this is the tough gross part you just need to swallow before getting to the fucking SPPIUCCE

[adore-gregor]

🤞

[theood]

Mentally ill boy whines again. Solution: Get Out Of There

[tokyoteddywolf]

22 isn't very much at all, I think.

[karofsky]

man I'm gonna be honest, trying to stick to this "one day at a time" mindset is really getting old

[laurelwinchester]

one of my many many many arr*w related grievances is that people in the fandom (including in the laurel lance sub fandom) are very hesitant or even outright refuse to admit that quentin lance was an extremely emotionally abusive father. i still don't understand why that is.

[ardentpoop]

also while I was googling that exact quote i found an anti-sam blog that also had “anti-jack” in the bio

gee I wonder why!

[thedevotionaltour]

the desire to quit comics and give up on creating art forever before i've even started my career vs the travis moore answer to my ask in his inbox when he still had a tumblr when i was in high school telling me it was both the most difficult and fulfilling work he ever took on and i should pursue it if i want to and the guy who bought the first ever mini comic i sold this year at my first ever con i tabled asking me to sign it. sniffle sob