#fuck it this is safe enough for fandom tags

[rabidlittlestrawberry]

I really did try to do this in the tags but I had too much to say.

I know this conversation has been had a lot recently, but I feel like it’s so sad, because it sours all the gorgeous work we are all doing here, because let’s be honest, nobody would have the connection they have to this media or these characters without us all here making beautiful queer media that is MILES better than the original. And that gives us all this deep emotional connection to it that we wouldn’t otherwise have. Which is beautiful, except when it is lining jkrs pockets, because we are not a small group, we are definitely large enough to be considered when making new media, when buying and selling rights, when deciding what merch to sell. And then it becomes something that is not ours but our fault.

When I joined fandom I thought there were some rules, like, don’t buy and sell fanfic, don’t critique/ rate fanfic, don’t give money to jkr. And sure, individual people do all of those things all the time, but we have to agree as a community what we are going to have conversations about to keep our space safe for everyone

And listen, we all do it. We’ve all done it, but with this reboot, I feel like we can change that. We can say no, we have that power, no matter how small.

So, let’s show them that they cannot buy us with the pretty white boys, that they cannot make something even half as good as we can make ourselves. and that we have no interest in lining the pockets of someone intent on taking people’s rights away. I will be so fucking proud of us

If you are still on the fence, I will leave you with this tweet from Joanne herself, because she doesn’t care if we are making her art queer, as long as we keep paying her while we do it.

As we are all being reminded recently, art is political, and none more so than this.

"andrew and ben are up to something!" "atj played atyd he's up to something!" "calling it now, they've been cast!"

well i would hope NOT actually, marauders fans stfu about the reboot challenge

[ready2-burst]

Day 13 - while gaming

before i begin, please note! this is a catfish!Noel centric fic, so if that’s not your personal taste, please continue to scroll!

Noel’s current life was pretty much the perfect definition of a snowball lie. He hadn’t meant for any of this to happen, for such a simple action to spiral like this. 

Using alternative accounts online with female usernames and profile pictures of beautiful women was just his stupid little guilty pleasure. It gave him that full-body feeling of joy that he craved, but rarely found. He had seen the name Talia somewhere, and decided it sounded pretty and slapped it onto a new Youtube account, using a random photo of a young woman as the profile picture. While browsing on that account, he happened to stumble upon a video by one Mischa Bachinski - his Ukrainian classmate whom he may or may not have caught a mild case of the hots for. It was a rap video with shitty quality, filmed in his basement, but Noel thought the rap was pretty good, and deserved a positive comment. 

He had no idea that in a couple months’ time, his biggest regret would be sending that comment.

After seeing Mischa’s overjoyed response to the comment “Talia” left, it felt like there was simply no choice but to keep leaving such comments. It was only on the tenth comment he left that things went south - Mischa asked for her other socials. And just like that, suddenly Noel was creating more Talia accounts. Discord, Instagram, even a Roblox account was created. Suddenly he was researching how to do a Ukrainian accent, and keeping Google Translate open on a tab on his phone at all times. Suddenly he was installing a voice changer to use on Discord calls - giving the household computer a virus, which he was still too scared to mention to his mother.

Noel knew that this was all wrong. He was feeding lies to a vulnerable teen who had already been through so much. But he was too embarrassed, and too afraid of the consequences, to ever admit the truth to anyone.

“Top left!”

Noel flinched as he was suddenly pulled from his melancholic thoughts. He quickly clicked a key on his keyboard and shot down a zombie about to attack him. “Phew… дякую, dear.” he sighed in relief, reminding himself to speak in a more girly tone of voice, just in case the voice changer wasn’t convincing enough.

This whole mess wasn’t all bad - Noel finally had someone to play video games with, even if he did need to put on a fake accent and use a voice changer. Every Tuesday and Thursday, after choir practice, Mischa would call up Talia on Discord, and they would play any free multiplayer game they could find together.

So far, they had been at it for an hour, and neither boy was getting tired. Noel was more than content to stay here all night, and Mischa seemed like he was too.

At least, that was what Noel thought, until his headphones picked up a quiet shff of fabric, a shift. He thought nothing of it at first - Mischa was probably changing his position; he had been sitting for an hour straight. But then he heard him shift again, and again, in the space of just two minutes.

“Mischa, are you alright?” Noel gently asked. “You sound a little… fidgety. It’s okay if you’re getting tired, we can sign off—“

“Oh, no no no! I am just fine, my Talia.” Mischa insisted, his firm yet loving voice crackling straight into his ears. “Please, let us continue our battle against zombies. Ooh, shit, straight ahead!”

Noel made a frankly undignified noise, and quickly rapid-fired at the zombie in his face, using up all his bullets, which in turn sent him scrambling to reload. Come to think of it, there may have been a reason no one had ever leapt at the chance to play games with him. Mischa could be heard quietly chuckling as he saw his “girlfriend” fumble - but then that chuckle turned to a quiet hiss.

“Mischa?” Noel instantly questioned it, worry creeping into his tone. “Are you sure you’re alright? You just made a weird noise, you sound like you’re in pain…”

“M-my perfect Talia, your concern is so sweet,” Mischa began to brush him off, his voice sounding a little shaky all of the sudden. “But I am fine.”

“Really?” he challenged, his tone disbelieving. “I don’t think I’m buying it, my dear. You know you can talk to me if something is the matter…”

There was a tense silence. Before finally, Mischa sighed. “Okay… I am not completelyfine.”

Noel smiled sadly at the boy’s reluctant admission, glad that he had gotten through to him. “What’s wrong, my darling Mischa?”

“We-well… I…” he stammered, seeming unable to decide on the right words. “I have bottle of wine with me, yes? I have been drinking wine since we started game. And I drank wine super fast, the wine is gone now… a-and it passed through my body.”

It took Noel a good few seconds to figure out the problem, but when he did, his eyes went huge. Shit. He bit his lip behind his microphone to stop himself from laughing. “Mischa, do you, ah… need to pee?” he gently inquired for confirmation.

The soft and shy “mhm” that he received in response could’ve made his heart explode. In his wildest dreams, he never imagined Mischa could sound so meek. “Well, I don’t mind pausing the game for you while you take a bathroom break…” 

“No,” Mischa instantly refused. “I don’t need break, I-I can hold it… We can keep playing.”

Noel sighed softly at his continued stubbornness. “Dear… you shouldn’t put it off, especially since you already seem pretty desperate… It’ll only get worse, and you’ll end up—“

“No, I won’t!” he snapped, before instantly regretting it and calming down. “S-sorry, my love. But honestly, we don’t need to stop game. I’m a strong man, I-I can hold a little pee-pee, no problem… Please, let’s- fuck!”

Noel’s eyes became the size of saucers, and a red hot blush crept across his face. For a few seconds, he thought that was meant to be a full sentence, and got more than a little flustered. However, the soft grumbling and frantic rustling that followed told him otherwise, and worry cut through his brief excitement. His computer screen showed the pause menu, suggesting that Mischa had paused the game. “Mischa?” Noel gently called out, dreading to think what might have just happened behind the boy’s microphone.

“Лайно, лайно, лайно-“ Mischa could be heard breathlessly cursing. “I’m so sorry, T-Talia, I have to—“

“Hey, hey- sweetheart, it’s okay,” he instantly comforted. “Go to the bathroom. I’ll be right here when you get back.”

Mischa made one last small noise of pain - before his mic picked up the sound of his headset slamming down onto the floor, as well as his footsteps faintly retreating. 

With him gone, Noel took the time to take off his own headset and give his slightly sore ears a quick break. He gently rubbed his ears, quietly chuckling about what had just happened. He said a few random things in his normal voice, just so he wouldn’t somehow forget that he wasn’t naturally a Ukrainian girl. And he patiently sat and waited for Mischa’s return.

And waited. … And waited.

Finally, just as Noel was considering exiting out of the game in the interest of not burning the pause menu into the screen, he heard Mischa pick his headset up and put it back on. “Ah, welcome back!” Noel happily greeted him. “Feeling better now?”

“Y-yeah… better,” he replied in a very uncharacteristically quiet voice.

That gave the other boy a bad feeling. If he had successfully emptied his bladder, he should surely be back to normal - unless something had gone wrong. “… Did you make it?” he found himself asking.

Mischa’s response truly broke his heart. “I couldn’t,” he said simply, his voice breaking at the end of the sentence. 

Noel softly gasped, empathy flooding into him from head to toe. He felt a knot appear in his throat. “Oh, Mischa, darling…” 

A shaky exhale came through Mischa’s microphone. “I barely even got up stairs,” he began to rant. “I-I left basement, and I tried to run to toilet and suddenly it just wouldn’t stop, I…”

The boy took a slow and unsteady breath in, trying to keep his emotions in check. “… I’m sorry, Talia, f-for becoming so weak… you shouldn’t have to see that of me.”

Noel could’ve cried with sympathy. His heart absolutely ached for poor Mischa. “… Mischa,” he carefully began to speak - in this moment, he wasn’t playing a character, he was speaking entirely from his heart. “You know what I want you to do, darling? I want you to sign off, and get some dry, comfy pyjamas on. We can do a longer gaming session on Thursday.”

Thankfully, Mischa seemed too emotionally exhausted to put up too much fight. “Are you sure…?”

“I’m not about to let you sit at your computer in soaking wet pants on the verge of tears trying to fight zombies,” Noel insisted bluntly, which managed to get a very soft snort out of the other. “I’m positive.”

“Alright. I will… I will leave game and put on night clothes,” he reluctantly agreed.

They both exited out of the game, leaving them on call together without any distractions, which brought about a peaceful silence. Mischa breathed a heavy, despondent sigh. “… I-I’m sorry, Talia—“

Noel gently hushed him. “You don’t need to apologise for anything, kохана. Your bladder just couldn’t take it anymore, it’s not any kind of personal failure, it’s just biology… And I don’t think any less of you, okay? You’re perfect, Mischa, and I’m never not gonna think that.”

There was a short pause, before Mischa gave a small sniffle, evidently starting to fail at holding back tears. “I love you, Talia,” he managed to shudder out.

“I love you too,” Noel instantly repeated, the rehearsed feminine tone in his voice almost disappearing altogether. “I really do love you…”

“Will you message me goodnight on the Discord before you go to bed…?”

The soft smile on his face slowly fell, into a slightly sad resting face. “… Yeah, of course,” he assured him, returning to his usual Talia voice.

“Okay…” Mischa took a deep breath. “Thank you for playing with me. До побачення,Talia. Я люблю тебе.”

The little icon containing his profile picture disappeared from Noel’s phone screen, and he was alone. He let out a deep sigh, scrubbing a hand over his face as he tried to process what just happened. 

Needless to say, it was very hard for Noel to keep a poker face when he heard Mischa the following day at school, muttering about how he had the “shittiest night”.

see you guys in two days for Day 15! :3

[tsbs-shipfessions]

I think Sun and Moon from MASM should kiss

I can understand this one. They'd be very wholesome and sweet.

[unforth]

Hey if you're a white person (as I am too!) and reading the stuff about End OTW Racism (@end-otw-racism) is making you uncomfortable CONGRATULATIONS THATS THE POINT bipoc have been uncomfortable in fandom for decades and some of yall can't face being uncomfortable for five seconds and still have the gall to have shit like BLM in your descriptions.

Put your money where your mouth is. Be uncomfortable. Actually read what they're talking about and what changes they're proposing instead of jumping right to BuT wHaT aBoUt My DaRk FiC (they want to protect your dark fic and help ensure you're safer from harassment over it!)and ThEy'Re PrO-cEnSoRsHiP (they are explicitly not).

I'm so fucking tired of having my posts and those I reblog on this topic largely ignored on my personal account, but ESPECIALLY I'm furious about how ignored posts on racism in fandom are when I put them on the danmei art sideblogs.

I see racism every single fucking DAY as part of running those accounts. This isn't some nebulous thing happening elsewhere, this is us!

If you don't care, I really need you to take a long hard look in the mirror and ask yourself WHY DONT I CARE?

Because YOU SHOULD FUCKING CARE.

[bitchesgate3]

mizora fans are the only safe side of the fandom for me

[anominous-user]

story leaks in this fandom is one of the most annoying shit ever and the worst part is that before ppl started mass migrating here from twt there weren't that many (there were still some, especialy when new animations came out) but now i've seen ppl put "honkai spoilers" in their post without puting it in the tags, like bitch... I CAN STILL SEE THIS! (my blocked list greatly expanded since then)

oh yeah i completely understand your frustration, lately i've been getting really annoyed about the way leaks are handled in the fandom in general but story leaks by far take the cake for most annoying.

its not hard to just tag your posts w/ "honkai spoilers" or just "spoilers", guys.

[a-chip-in-inosukes-nichirin]

Ameliorate

Fandom: Kimetsu no Yaiba/Demon Slayer

Rating: Explicit- Minors DNI (18+ only)

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Sanemi/Female Reader

Tags: Female Reader, Penis in Vagina Sex, Bad Dates, Brief Mentions of SA, Oral Sex, Protective Genya, Protective Sanemi, Fucking you better, Slight Self-Esteem Issues, Mating Press, Sexual Tension, Sanemi is a lovable asshole

Wordcount: 5k

Ameliorate: To make something unsatisfactory better

After a bad date you spill the beans that you think Genya's brother is hot and he decides to fuck the memory of your shitty date out of you.

Cross-posted from my AO3 account.

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

8627 45th Street SOS pls pick me up ASAP

The hastily sent text was minimal, blunt, and out of character for you. Usually, your messages were sprinkled with extraneous words, emojis, and “please” and “thank you”. You had no time for flowery language today; you needed a quick extraction.

You were hidden in the bathroom, date passed out on the bed after possibly the worst sex you’d ever experienced- for how long, you weren’t sure. Hopefully just enough for you to get out of here.

You weren’t known for making the best decisions and tended to go along with things longer than you wanted to in the name of politeness. It had landed you in many shitty situations, but this was by far the worst one. You rinsed your mouth with water in an attempt to wash the taste of the man who’d been far too rough with you from your palate, holding back the need to gag. You’d done enough of that today, and it was barely noon; a striking contrast to how you felt.

Your phone vibrated, Genya’s number lighting up the screen. You answered it with shaky fingers, keeping your voice low as you spoke.

“Hey.”

You hated how raspy it sounded. That’s what happens when an asshole doesn’t listen when you tell him to be gentle.

“You okay?” Genya’s concerned voice came through the speaker. “We’re almost there; what’s up?”

You appreciated Genya’s swift response but stiffened at his words.

“We?”

“I’m out with Nemi,” Genya told you.

Sanemi.

Genya’s big brother, and the last person you wanted to see you in this state. You couldn’t afford to be picky, though, when you were stranded at a stranger’s house after a variety of bad decisions.

“Just text me when you’re outside. Don’t honk or anything.”

“Are you safe?”

“Yeah…”

Just having a shitty day.

“We’re just around the corner,” Genya informed you.

“Okay. Be out in a sec.”

You hung up the phone and wished between your legs didn’t ache so badly, wished you weren’t half-limping from everything. There were likely bruises on your wrists and thighs, probably on your ass too if you were being honest. Under different circumstances you would’ve been proud of them, but today you only felt disgust.

You’d been so stupid.

Shuffling out of the bathroom on your tiptoes, you crept past the bedroom door that was left ajar, catching a glance at the man who’d cajoled until you caved, then didn’t listen when you said you weren’t fucking ready yet.

So stupid.

You berated yourself as you softly closed the door behind you for your walk of shame to the vaguely familiar SUV parked on the street. Genya twisted to look at you from the passenger seat as you slid in, avoiding his eyes. You knew you looked like a mess: mascara had streaked, and eyeliner was smudged, hair mussed beyond its normal windswept tousle, and it was a miracle that the majority of the damage inflicted on you was covered by your turtleneck.

“No car?”

“In the shop for repairs,” you kept your eyes glued out of the window, knowing Genya was worried but ashamed to meet his gaze. “I appreciate the ride. Didn’t mean to encroach on bro-time.”

“Not a problem,” Sanemi’s voice cut through the air as he pulled away. You shivered at his words, wetting your lips nervously. “You weren’t too far out of the way.”

“You okay?” Genya asked.

You wrinkled your nose, fighting the shame that filled your throat.

“Bad date.”

The following silence was uncomfortable, leaving you shifting against the leather seats. You knew Genya was probably fighting the urge to ask you if you wanted him to kick someone’s ass, and Sanemi… well, you didn’t know what he thought but you sure could guess what someone might think when they saw what you looked like after exiting a man’s house.

“Hungry?”

The question broke you out of your thoughts, and you caught Sanemi’s gaze in the rearview mirror. You’d eaten a couple hours ago, but after the day you’d had, you were starving. You didn’t realize how tense you were until just now, melting into the seat.

“Yeah, food sounds great.”

“Nemi and I were gonna grab something and then marathon Star Wars,” Genya told you. “You down?”

Your eyes flickered between the two brothers.

“Is that okay?”

“You’re over all the time already,” Sanemi replied nonchalantly.

It was true: you often dropped in or crashed at their place after work or on your days off to hang out with Genya. The two of you had been fast friends since you both worked the same shifts at work during high school. You’d moved on to other things, as had Genya, but your friendship had remained and grown as you did.

Sanemi worked quite a bit to provide for his younger brother and himself after an accident that left both of them orphans, and he was often gone when you and Genya hung at his place, but he’d found a better job recently that left him with more days off. With his schedule freed up a bit, he’d been around more while you crushed Genya at Mario Kart and experimented with new recipes in their spacious kitchen.

Sanemi had been little more than a passing thought before, but since seeing him more frequently, you’d developed a fascination with the scarred man with the shock of white hair. It wasn’t like the crushes you’d had on other guys- giddy, giggling things- but instead a hot coal in your stomach that left you uncomfortable and squirming when he was nearby. Sanemi was short-tempered and gruff, and had a permanent scowl on his face, but something about him made butterflies sprout in your chest.

It made you feel foolish, and you knew you’d die if Sanemi ever found out. You’d gone to great lengths to put physical and emotional distance between the two of you, a practiced civility that bordered on cold. It was the only way you could manage to keep yourself in check around him.

With the food acquired (taco bell was Genya’s favorite, much to Sanemi’s disdain), the three of you were back at the Shinaguzawa household in record time. Genya plopped on the couch, patting the seat next to him. You hesitated, the stickiness under your clothes itching uncomfortably now.

“Here,” Sanemi appeared out of thin air, thrusting a towel into your hands. “You know where the shower is.”

Your face heated as you slunk away, disappearing into the tiled bathroom. You must have looked pretty rough if Sanemi was telling you to shower.

Genya furrowed his brows disapprovingly at his brother as you vanished.

“I know you’re trying to help, but you should really work on how you talk to people.”

“Why?” Sanemi settled on the far end of the sofa.

Genya pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Because,” he groaned. “You don’t have tact.”

“I was giving her a towel; why does that need tact?” Sanemi turned the television on. “She obviously wanted a shower.”

“You’re useless,” Genya dug out his burrito. “It’s no wonder nobody will date you.”

Sanemi snatched the food from Genya with a glare, pushing him away with a socked foot when Genya complained and reached for the stolen bag.

“Biting the hand that feeds you means you’re gonna lose the food,” Sanemi told him.

“Genya!”

Your voice from down the hall had the younger brother craning his neck, Sanemi leaning back to peer down the dim hall curiously.

“I’m stealing some of your clothes,” you exited Genya’s room, holding up a handful of cloth. “And I’m borrowing your washer.”

“Sure, go ahead,” Genya nodded, watching you disappear into the bathroom.

The silence as Sanemi set up the movie was relaxed. Genya fished his food from the bag and set it far away from his brother, disposing of the trash as the sound of water reached their ears.

“So I guess you two aren’t fucking then?”

Genya choked on his burrito, slamming his fist into his chest. When he finally could breathe again, he turned his red face towards Sanemi with a glare.

“What the hell would give you that impression?”

“Look,” Sanemi plucked a cinnamon twist from its spot nestled in fast food paper. “I see you guys hanging out all the time. You’re close. I just figured-”

“We’re friends,” Genya cut him off. “She literally was on a date with someone today.”

“A shitty one,” Sanemi interjected.

Genya rubbed his eyes.

“Yeah, a shitty one. I swear she’s got the worst luck when it comes to dating. It’s like she’s an asshole magnet.”

“This happened before?”

Sanemi’s interest was piqued. He’d grown curious about the girl who showed up at the house to keep Genya company and use the kitchen at odd hours. You were incredibly sweet but had a sassy streak around people you were comfortable with. He’d heard you swear like a sailor over losing a game, but even from the next room over he could hear the grin in your tone. It did confuse him how you’d go from acting like you were in your own house while Genya was there, to suddenly stiffening and growing formally polite around him.

“Yeah, like four or five times. Usually, I’ll hear about it the next day, but she’s never called for a ride before.”

“She should’ve just told the guy no date until her car is fixed,” Sanemi took a swig of his drink. “That’d fix that problem. Can’t help with the bad taste in men, though.”

“I don’t have bad taste.”

Your voice cut the air sharply, and the brothers twisted around to see you standing behind the couch, hair damp and body swallowed by Genya’s clothes. Your embarrassed face was juxtaposed by the glare plastered across it. A few pale bruises peeked above the loose collar of the borrowed shirt.

“Then how do you explain consistently shit dates?” Sanemi countered, raising a brow.

Your face burned and you ducked your head between your shoulders.

“…bad luck?”

The white-haired man snorted into his cup. You scowled, plopping down on the couch next to Genya.

“I can’t help it men are pigs who don’t know what the word ‘no’ means,” you bit back, hackles raised at Sanemi’s reaction.

You didn’t think the air could get more uncomfortable, but here you were, starting to squirm as you did your best to avoid the piercing gazes of the Shinazugawa brothers. Genya’s whole body had leaned forward as his hands dug into the couch. Sanemi’s normal resting bitch face hardened farther and his eyes narrowed to pinpricks.

“I’ve got a crowbar in the garage-”

“Nemi!” Genya elbowed him before quickly turning back to you. “Unless… I mean unless you wanted-”

“No!” you shook your head, covering your face. This night was just getting worse the more you had to talk about everything. “I just want to forget about it. Can we watch the movie please?”

Familiar music filled the air as Star Wars began to play. You honestly didn’t care for the franchise all that much but it was a welcome distraction from your morning. You inhaled your food before snuggling down into the couch your lids grew heavy. You finally let them shut, unable to stay awake any longer as the hum of conversation and sound effects melted into the background.

Your dreams were staticky and punctuated by odd dialogue filtering in through your ears from the movies playing, but eventually you fell into a dead sleep, mind dark and empty as the exhaustion caught up to you.

When you jolted awake, the sun had gone down and the curtains were drawn, leaving the living room dark. The couch’s raised fabric pattern was imprinted on your cheek, accompanied by drool trickling from your open mouth.

Gross.

You wiped it away with the back of your hand, sitting upright. The living room was empty, food wrappers cleaned up and a fuzzy blanket laid over your body. Sanemi and Genya were nowhere to be seen. You pushed yourself up, reaching for your phone.

10:18PM.

Genya would normally still be up at this time. You picked yourself up off the couch and padded down the hall, knocking on his door.

No answer.

You opened it slowly, not wanting to get an eyeful if he was in the middle of choking his chicken or something else that would scar you for life. His room was entirely empty, bed uncharacteristically neat. Eyebrows knit together to create a crease.

“Do you always creep around like an intruder?”

Sanemi’s voice made you jump, spinning around to face him. You clutched your chest where your heart beat erratically from the scare, trying to hold back a scowl.

“Jesus Christ dude,” you spit out when you finally caught your breath. “Don’t do that.”

“What?” Sanemi crossed his arms. “Walk through my own house?”

“Surprise me,” you took a step back, gathering your wits. “In the dark.”

Sanemi reached over with one hand, flipping the light switch. The sudden harsh illumination made you squint, which did nothing to make your face look less irritable.

“Genya got called into work about two hours ago,” Sanemi answered your unspoken question. “He said you could use his bed if you wanted to.”

You peered back into the room behind you. Sanemi probably wouldn’t want to drive you home, so you supposed you could crash in Genya’s bed for the night. Wouldn’t have been the first time, and probably not the last. Genya always insisted you take his bed if you stayed the night anyway. He claimed the couch was more comfortable (a lie if you’d ever heard one).

“If it’s no trouble,” you pulled the blanket tighter. “I’ll be out of your hair in the morning.”

Sanemi let out a long sigh, leaving you to side-eye him as he rolled his shoulders. When he finally quieted and brought his attention back to you, he looked both pissed and concerned.

“Is it something I did?”

You blinked owlishly, cocking your head.

“What?”

“You always do this,” he gestured to you. “You’re relaxed and chill when Genya’s here, but the moment I show up you get all… frosty. Did I say something to offend you?”

You shifted from one foot to the other, opening your mouth briefly before snapping it shut, trying to think before you said anything stupid. It didn’t work, as per usual.

“N-no, you just make me nervous-”

Sanemi’s face briefly reminded you of a kicked puppy, and you felt horrible. Of course he’d assume you were frightened of him because of his scars. You chided yourself mentally, attempting to fix your mistake.

“N-not like that!” you lifted your hands to wave them wildly, and the blanket slipped to the floor and puddled around your feet. “I just-you make me nervous because you’re hot!”

Both of you froze this time, and your face lit up bright red, ears burning as your mouth fell open and eyes bugged out at your slip of the tongue. You wished you could melt into the wooden floorboards of the hall.

Sanemi broke out of his stupor first, a slow grin spreading across his face. You would’ve run if you hadn’t been rooted to the floor in humiliation.

“Oh, is that it?” he leaned down, resting one palm flat against the doorframe near your head.

His face was close-too close to yours to be completely comfortable. You turned your head away, trying to calm your racing heart. There’s no way Sanemi was flirting with you. He was probably just being an asshole, right?

Right?

“Genya isn’t the only one who has a bed,” Sanemi’s smirk was crooked, eyes half lidded. His face swiftly softened when he noted your eyes flickering to your left and right like a frightened rabbit. He took a step back, allowing you your personal space again.

“Sorry,” he apologized, eyes gentle amidst the sharp planes of his face. “You just had a shitty date and here I am being a bad host. You’re probably tired.”

You hadn’t seen this side of Sanemi before much. You were used to his cocky glares and barking laughter. Not this gentle tone like someone coaxing a horse.

“You’re not bad,” you burst out, wanting to ease the tense atmosphere. “I just- I don’t… know how to act around you.”

Your face burned. How many embarrassing confessions would you make tonight? You were already at two and counting.

“I’m not a pig,” Sanemi echoed your words from earlier. “I know how to take a ‘no’.”

“I-it’s not a no!”

Sanemi’s gaze snapped back to you, shocked but curious. You bit your lip, clenching your fists.

“It’s… not a no. I’m just not sure-”

“If you’re not sure, then it’s the same thing,” Sanemi picked the blanket up from off the floor and looping it around your shoulders like a cape.

Your fingers snagged it without a second thought, anchoring it in place where he’d laid it. You weren’t sure where your eyes should settle, but risked peeking up at him. His eyes rested on your visage with a gentleness that rivaled the brush of his fingers as they withdrew from fabric around your body. Those lilac eyes were a little curious, a little resigned, and a little hungry.

You reached out with one hand, hooking your fingers in the hem of his shirt. He paused. You took a deep breath and stepped forward.

“I want you,” you maintained eye contact as you spoke- quite the feat when your heart was trying to escape through your throat.

Sanemi stared at you as if trying to gauge your sincerity.

“Please?” you tacked on as an afterthought, suddenly afraid that he’d laugh in your face or- worse- reject you outright for some other reason. You could thin of a million, but the one you worried most about was him thinking you were some kind of loose woman who slept around-

Hands threaded through your hair, and you felt lips on your own. You melted into the unexpected touch, anxiously moving closer until you were fully pressed against Sanemi’s body. Heat rolled off him comfortingly, and your hands twisted in his white tank top. His teeth nipped against your lower lip, forcefully requesting entrance. You granted it, running your tongue along his teeth, tasting mint and the faintest lingering bitterness of tobacco.

Cigarettes.

“I didn’t know you smoked,” you whispered as he broke away for a breath.

A brief embarrassed guilt flashed across his features before he shrugged.

“I’m working on quitting. Don’t want Genya to think it’s okay but… we all have our vices.”

You laughed, reaching up to touch his hair.

“Genya tried cigs and isn’t a fan, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

The look on Sanemi’s face was comical, and you held in a giggle. He glared behind you in the direction of Genya’s bed.

“The little fucker-”

“Hey, he’s a good kid,” you insisted, feeling more at ease speaking with Sanemi now that his hands were around your waist. It was both soothing and thrilling.

Sanemi crowded you against the wall, dropping his head until your gazes were level. His eyes bored into yours and it felt as if you were suddenly being interrogated.

“You two really aren’t fucking?”

The question took you aback a little bit, but you shook your head.

“He’s like my little brother.”

Sanemi’s grin split across his face, crooked and sharp. Your stomach fluttered as the tip of his nose brushed against yours, fanning his breath across your lips.

“Good. Because I’m taking you.”

Before you had a chance to ask what he meant, you were lifted off your feet and carried- with an undignified squeal- through the hall and into Sanemi’s room. When he dropped you on the bed, the air left your lungs in a gasp, and it took a second to get your bearings.

“If you say stop, or no, at any point,” Sanemi’s shirt was whipped off over his head as he approached the bed, “I’ll back off. If you can’t speak, tap me three times.”

Your eyes locked on his torso as you nodded dumbly, taking in the muscles and scars across his ribs and pecs, down his sides and crowning his hips. It took everything in you to tear your vision away to meet his face as he crawled over you, running his hand up your neck until he cradled your jaw.

“Now… how about I make you forget all about that shitty fucking guy from earlier?”

The kiss was soft and chaste, not what you expected after how heated things had gotten in the hallway. Sanemi’s hands reached for the edge of the t-shirt you wore- Genya’s t-shirt- and lifted it until it caught on your face, tugging a bit when your head was stuck until it popped off, leaving your hair mussed. He brushed the stray strands from your face, eyes dropping to your bare breasts.

Shit.

In the chaos of excitement, you’d forgotten about the marks left from your earlier date. Your hands immediately went to cover them in horror. Sanemi stopped you, grabbing your wrists and holding them from blocking his view. His lips pressed to each mark, scraping his teeth and sucking them until they grew darker. Each bruise was remarked afresh by his mouth until not one was left untouched.

Your head had fallen back, a trembling hum dragged from your lips at the feeling of Sanemi’s touch. He sucked a few new marks as well, higher up on your neck, making sure to lavish the juncture of your shoulder and throat with attention. Your hands dug into his hair, tugging and holding back a keen of pleasure.

“There,” he pulled back, satisfied with his work.

Your breath hitched, watching him slide his fingers under the satin basketball shorts clinging to your hips. Being fully exposed to Sanemi was frightening, your entire body going rigid, remembering the offhand snide comments you’d endured only hours ago in the same situation. Sanemi noted the way you wouldn’t meet his eye, ducking your head and pulling your legs towards yourself as if you were going to curl in on yourself.

“I can’t see your pretty face,” he lifted your chin with a finger, thumbing your lip. “I want you to look at me while I go down on you.”

Your face blazed red, and it crept down your neck until your chest flushed as well, watching Sanemi drop his face between your legs, forcing them apart while maintaining eye contact. You slowly eased yourself down until you were only propped up on your elbows.

“Ready, pretty girl?”

It was humiliating how your cunt fluttered at the words, and you nodded, transfixed by his cocky smile as he stuck his tongue out, just barely flicking the little nub that hid under its fleshy hood. The anticipation made you squirm a bit, even though the touch wasn’t enough to affect you. Sanemi hooked his arms around your thighs, anchoring you in place before burying his face against your hot core. Your back arched, a muffled moan fluttering past your lips as your nails scratched his scalp.

You could feel him grin against your cunt as his tongue dipped in and out, tracing the sides and up towards your clit. He avoided directly touching it until you were practically grinding against his face in desperation, desperate short whimpers huffed through your nose. Your lower lip was tucked under your top teeth, bitten and swollen due to your barely restrained desire.

“Please, Sanemi,” you finally gasped.

He pulled back, chin slicked with your juices.

“Please what?”

“You know what!” you whined.

Leave it to Sanemi to be an asshole while eating you out. You couldn’t really complain though- he was impressively good.

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Please,” you dropped your head to the sheets so you wouldn’t have to look at him as you spoke. “Let me cum.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

You shot up, glaring at Sanemi with a fury you didn’t know was in you. That pleased smirk was plastered on his gorgeously annoying face. You moved your legs so they locked behind his head, holding him in place.

“Don’t be a fucking tease!” you shook him a little by his cornsilk hair, just firm enough to show you weren’t a fan of his antics.  

Sanemi huffed a laugh against your inner thigh. His mouth was already back on you, finally going high enough to reach that sensitive button that he’d been neglecting. You sighed in relief, thighs clenching around his face. It didn’t take long after that for that coil in your stomach to build, snapping and throwing you over the edge when Sanemi’s flat tongue caressed your clit.

He kept going despite your choked cry and the way you arched up off the bed, limbs shaking and legs shaking. When you finally couldn’t take it anymore your hands pushed against his head, forcing him away. He sat up, looking over your trembling body and heaving chest. Your eyes were closed, a ringing sound in your ears from the intensity of the orgasm that was currently acting like a muscle relaxer.

A muffled groan pulled you from your pleasure-induced haze, and your eyes slit open. Sanemi’s pants were gone, pupils blown out. You didn’t realize how hard he was already, the outline of his dick inside the confines of his gray boxers surprising you as he palmed himself through the fabric. His own breathing was labored, and he swallowed, noticing your eyes opening.

“You good, princess?”

You nodded, feeling a bit sleepy, but pushed yourself up until you were sitting.

“Up for another round?”

You reached out, a bit hesitant, but tugged on the waistband of his underwear. That was all the answer he needed, and Sanemi stripped out of them, fishing around in the drawer of his nearby nightstand until he was able to produce a condom. It was opened and rolled on in a flash. He nudged your legs apart, settling between them and lining himself up at your entrance. You were incredibly slick from your earlier orgasm, and he pushed in with little resistance. The intrusion was still unexpected, and your fingernails bit into his forearm. Sanemi let out a shaky breath as he bottomed out, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Good job, sweetheart,” he whispered through gritted teeth. “Let me know when you’re ready for me to move.”

Instead of answering him verbally, you pushed up against him, grinding your cunt down onto his dick. The choked cry from his lips was like honey to your ears, and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Fuck me, Sanemi,” you breathed into his ear.

You barely finished the sentence before his hips began pounding into you, a cacophony of grunts and groans escaping his throat. He grabbed your legs and folded them back, angling deeper into your sopping cunt and hitting something inside you that made your toes curl. Each thrust punched the air from your lungs, leaving you too breathless to even moan out your satisfaction. Sanemi’s grip on your legs was leaving bruises but you didn’t care. You were enveloped in the feeling of his cock drilling into you relentlessly, his eyes half closed as the veins in his neck and arms stood out from the force he applied with each movement.

“S-Sanemi!”

The strangled cry you managed to get out among the intense movement filled the hot air of the room. Sanemi’s grip tightened on your legs and his hips stuttered against yours. His mouth had fallen open, eyes lidded with pleasure. His groans rose in pitch until they were more whines than anything, and the staccato beat of skin on skin lost all rhythm.

Sanemi came with a long moan, his mouth dropping to your neck, suckling as he ground up against you, hands loosing their hold on your legs to scramble for your hips. The tension in your stomach snapped with the last few jerks of his hips, a pleasant buzz settling in your limbs and chest a second time as your walls fluttered around his pulsing member. Your arms draped across his shoulders in an embrace as he came down from his high.

It was too warm in the room, but neither of you made a move. You hummed into his soft hair in hazy satisfaction.

“That was nice,” your hoarse voice drew Sanemi’s eyes to your half-asleep face.

He chuckled.

“Just nice?”

You tousled his hair, feigning a pout.

“What, you need your ego stroked?”

Sanemi snaked his hand down your body, flicking your still-sensitive nub with a finger. Your body jerked involuntarily, a cry escaping from your lips. You whined at him, burying your face in your hands in embarrassment.

“I made you come twice,” Sanemi said. “How many times did that piece of shit you call a date make you come?”

You mumbled your answer, and Sanemi narrowed his eyes, gently abusing your clit again. You squirmed in an attempt to get away, but he was still buried to the hilt inside of you.

“He didn’t-” you said, fingers digging into the sheets on either side of you.

“That’s what I thought,” Sanemi ground against you, and you wriggled against the intense feeling of overstimulation. “Pretty girls like you deserve to be treated well, don’t you think?”

If you hadn’t been blushing before, you definitely were now. All you could manage was a nod as Sanemi slowly pulled out of you. You whimpered at the loss, feeling empty and cold as he tied off the condom and tossed it in the trash.

“What do pretty girls like you deserve?” Sanemi lifted your chin with his fingers.

“To be… treated well?”

Sanemi had a satisfied grin plastered on his face, and he kissed you deeply before pulling back and nodding.

“So how about you find yourself someone who’ll treat you like a princess?”

His words set your heart fluttering again, and you wet your lips, staring at him expectantly.

“Okay. Have any suggestions?”

His laughter huffed through his nose at your innocent and eager expression. Sanemi kissed the tip of your nose, cradling your jaw in his hand.

“You’re looking at him.”

[suguann]

Hello! My name's Anne | An adult in my mid to late 20's | A hobbyist writer

RULES:

• I write for many fandoms, including Call of Duty, JJK, Shadow and Bone, Star Wars, Game of Thrones, Haikyuu, One Piece, etc.

• This is an 18+ space, and I also write dark content, so please read all content warnings if that makes you uncomfy!

• Don't copy, paste, or translate.

LINKS:

General tag

Writing tag

Fic Recs

MASTERLIST:

JUJUTSU KAISEN

ও GOJO

• Possessive Gojo (18+)

He gives you another once-over, thinking of several ways to describe you, silly not being one of them.

• I Hope You Stay (18+) | Long Fic

He’d asked why your coworkers weren’t waiting outside with you—it's not safe here—at the same time you asked for a kiss. It just sort of slipped out.

• Virgin Gojo (18+)

His last slip of restraint is when he finally looks down to find a wet patch on the front of your panties and how you're starting to form a dark gray spot on his sweats.

• Messy (18+)

You look so small like this—smaller than usual because everything about him is big in comparison—and that stirs something foreign in his gut that he can’t name.

• Three's A Crowd (18+)

“If you ask nicely for what you want, maybe he’ll give it to you,” your husband offers evenly. (Gojo/ Reader/ Nanami)

• Be With Me (18+)

The feeling sneaks up on him without his knowing, a throbbing in his chest that festers and grows over time until he can’t ignore it anymore or contain it in the proverbial cup of his hands no matter how hard he tries.

• Everything Comes Back to You (18+)

"Did you know we'd end up here?"

• Possessive Geto (18+)

• What I Never Told You (18+)

Gojo doesn’t understand that the parents (mostly the moms who try to hide behind their giant sunglasses) at Mio’s soccer games talk, and he chooses today to pull you into his lap.

ও GETO

In times like this, he wishes he had never come up with the rule about keeping your relationship a secret—so nobody thinks I’m picking favorites—regret is a thick pill to swallow.

ও MULTI

• Prettiest Baby (18+)

They can't help it, they're kind of obsessed with you.

• Fuck It, I Want You (18+)

They're so infatuated with you.

CALL OF DUTY

ও GHOST

• Good (18+)

“Just a little more,” a small lie because there’s never just a little more when it comes to you.

• Let Me (18+)

There comes a point where Simon finally admits that he hates your new boyfriend. [Part Two]

• I Left It Wet For You (18+)

Simon doesn’t share, but he makes an exception this time after his best friend’s date is a no-show, and he isn’t heartless enough to let Johnny hang out at the pub alone. [Simon/ Soap/Reader]

• Smitten

He watches you swipe lipstick across your mouth, grinning at your reflection in the mirror atop the dresser, and it's the cutest fucking thing. 

• In Threes (18+)

Your ex-boyfriend makes you think you are the problem. Simon shows you that's not the case.

• New Girl

He has a feeling that the new girl running the front desk at the gym is going to be a problem—a distraction disguised in a gym uniform polo and khaki pants.

• Neighborly (18+)

Simon looks at you with a cocked brow and something akin to amusement as he watches you squirm in his doorway. 

• Abience (18+)

He’ll only realize this after the fact—weeks late, sleepless nights filled with images of daisy-shaped buttons down the front of a summer dress and a smile that nearly knocks him flat off his feet.

ও PRICE

• Redamancy (18+)

You tried not to grow feelings—you really did. Feelings make things complicated, but you can’t help it. John’s just…John.

BALDUR'S GATE

ও ASTARION

• Oh, Darling (18+)

He’s in a perpetually strange mood for the rest of the day, quieter than usual and more sulky, and you have the sneaking suspicion he's upset with you.

[madschiavelique]

miguel has this habit - when he is stressed, he starts rutting and humping his clothed dick against you (just friction, no cumming). and since he has to put up with everyone’s shit - that happens a lot throughout the day. it’s like his brain shuts off for a few minutes and he is doing it on autopilot - no thoughts head empty ✌🏻😸 just the warm feeling of his best girl under his touch being there for him, and it’s enough to calm miguel down for a while. you’re quite used to it, and you don’t mind his brainless activity since it’s rather helpful for him and for you - you don’t need to do too much expect to hold your ground - once he thrusted so suddenly and strong it knocked you down 😅 (he felt really guilty after that). silly silly man

one day he was under so much stress that his crotch was basically glued to you. you felt bad for him - to see him so frustrated. but you felt bad for yourself too - his constant humping made your panties dripping wet and you couldn’t actually do anything about it while being at work. so when you two returned home, you finally could punish him for making you horny for all day in a best way possible - fucking him dumb until he can’t coherently respond to you 💅

i am SALIVATING anon dayummm

summary : miguel humps you when he's stressed (not proofread)

content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, dry humping, pnv sex - unprotected sex (be safe kids), fem!reader, no use of Y/N word count : 1,4k

tag list : @fandom-ash

It had become a ritual. As soon as the situation became too stressful, as soon as everything in his head became so hectic that his mind sizzled and his skin tingled, he would come to you to hump on you. It was automatic, he needed to get rid of all the stress and unpleasant sensations in one way. This helped him to decompress, to simply concentrate on his desires, on your body and its warmth to get away from work pressure.

You'd always find a way to get alone and he'd hump you, desperately, rubbing against you and letting the frictional sensations electrify and stabilise everything around him that was preventing him from keeping his mind straight.

He could hump your thigh, against your fingers as you encouraged him and kissed the side of his neck, and sometimes against your clothed cunt. It wasn't always easy, letting him do that for a few moments and then having to go back to work when he was calm again and you were left turned on.

And today, it was a particularly painful sensation as your desire grew. Miguel was taking you aside easily every hour, humping against your ass, almost fucking your hands, rubbing desperately against your cunt.

Your body was becoming more sensitive by the hour, and every time Miguel came to you with that apologetic look on his face, you knew you were going to be tempted and doubly aroused.

He'd come back to hump your covered pussy, and the longer the hours went on, the more painful your arousal became. Your clit was throbbing, your body all hot, and that cloud spreading and tightening in your lower belly kept intensifying as soon as you had those little private moments.

You knew that, if he continued for even a few minutes longer in those moments, you wouldn't be able to stand it any longer and might come.

You wanted so desperately to just take off your bottoms and panties while he stripped off his clothes so that you could feel him inside you, all warm and tight.

But he always left before either of you could taste the completion of your two shared pleasures. He would go away, and you would follow him to continue his work. You sat next to him and tried to rub your thighs to feel a little friction, something that would hopefully satisfy you even a little without being able to literally go do something about it yourself.

Miguel wouldn't let you move away from him, wanting to make sure that if the urge arose again you'd be by his side. Today he was afraid that if you weren't there just in case, he wouldn't be able to control himself, and he hated that: the lack of control.

So you suffered in silence, and he did the same. It was almost unbearable, like shaking a champagne bottle from time to time, the bubbles building up and ready to implode, but never being opened.

The power with which you led him into his quarters once the work was done was exceptional. You made sure the quarters were locked, and led him to your bed.

You kissed him with such appetite that he took a step backwards, soon coming back to feed on your lips. You pushed him down onto the mattress, straddling him as you humped him this time, almost aggressively.

The friction that your cunt and his cock were looking for had become necessary, sending little sparks of desire into both your bellies that would ignite a hungry fire.

You began to take off your costume, Miguel helping you with the task as his was depixelating. Your underwear was completely wet, proof of the excitement that had lasted you a whole day.

"Already so wet for me," he breathed between two pecks, humming as he came to kiss you harder.

Both your sexes were now finally naked, and a moan escaped from between your lips as you placed your cunt on him. His warmth against yours was a sensation you had been seeking all day.

You let yourself slide from the base of his dick to his tip, wanting to smear a little of your desire on his skin.

He let out grunts of desire, gripping your hips to make you move faster against him. You clit rubbed like that made you feel like your entire body was connected to one single place, and you finally understood the anticipation that Miguel could have on stressful days.

You understood all those sensations, those desires to have more without ever being able to satisfy yourself or let yourself have a climax for good, but now you were going to satisfy them.

"I'm going to take care of you now," you whispered as you held his dick underneath you, lining it to your entrance.

Without waiting for any response from him, you impaled yourself on him, both your mouths overflowing with moans.

At last you felt your walls closing in on him and not on empty space. You were so wet from all this previous unvoluntary teasing that you almost slid around him effortlessly, sinking down until your clit was in contact with the skin of his lower belly.

A drunken little smile graced your lips as you began to undulate your hips, the friction and sensations you'd so long sought finally present. Your pelvis was acting on its own, rolling back and forth like waves crashing on the sand as you watched Miguel's eyes close of pleasure.

He was guiding your thighs, grunts finally coming out loud and clear of his throat. He'd spent his whole day just grinding, and the setting prevented him from being even a little too vocal.

"Gosh you feel so good," he breathed in absolute adoration.

You kissed his lips and the crook of his neck, panting softly before nibbling and tracing his sensitive spots with your tongue. The poor guy deserved all this after the day he'd had.

And all the frustration he'd built up pushed him over the edge. Miguel didn't take long to come, the sudden sensation of your warm walls enveloping him at last driving him to climax.

His hips were jerking, single powerful thrust pushing into your cunt as he came while you were consciously clenching your walls to make him enjoy it even more.

You lowered yourself and kissed him, his cock still twitching deep inside you, and you continued to undulate your pelvis against his. You deserved to keep going, he'd made a wet humping mess of you in turn, and you earned your satisfaction.

"I'm not done with you," you breathed, carrying on riding him.

You arched your back as you moved forward, and rounded your pelvis as you moved back, his dick filling you in all the right places as he made you breath out soft moans.

He looked at you almost bestially, his eyes tinged a carmine colour.

You were a goddess, a true miracle before his eyes, your gaze planted in his as he watched you, running his tongue over his fangs.

He straightened up, coming to sit as you continued to undulate your pelvis. He put his hand on your hips to guide you against him, kissing your breasts lovingly, your chest, his hair completely dishevelled.

All day you'd had this storm brewing in your stomach, with the winds blowing stronger and thunder rumbling in the distance angry of this impossibility for pleasure.

He brought his hand down between your two bodies, gently touching your clit and starting to make circular movements around it while he kissed your shoulder.

"You're so good for me, nena." he sighed against your hot skin.

The moans that came from within you were full of desire, the electrifying sensation of his fingers on your flesh making you see stars as you finally reached the point of orgasm.

The storm crashed into full force, your whole body vibrating as a powerful moan rocked your lips, Miguel grunting as your walls closed around him with intensity.

He watched you, cheek resting on your chest as you came down from all the sensations, his eyes riveted on your drunken expression of pleasure.

But you needed more, your hips starting to move again soon after, an almost pleading sigh escaping Miguel's lips as he nestled his head in your shoulder. It was going to be a long night, much to your delight.

[dapg-otmebytheballs]

See, when other fans in our spaces don't back us up, don't engage in dialogue with us about general racism and orientalism, treat our posts talking about our issues as something to politely avoid and wait till it's old news etc, the fandom gets emboldened about saying hateful shit to us, about saying racist shit to us, and a lot more. And that's a collective responsibility, because people are feeling emboldened in your communities to be mask off racist and hateful, and you're being a bystander

I won't hide the name, because this person has come into my inbox to be hateful, you wanna be hateful you get blasted, that's on you. But I sure as hell am I gonna post that fucking sticker a thousand times more now since clearly not enough of you have seen it. Since clearly too many people are still hoping they can stay quite and vague about it and be seen as neither controversial not problematic, nice safe space in the middle there. Well, I'm not feeling particularly safe in your spaces but hey, I like to look on the positive side of things, at least all this has shown me who my allies are and who are completely fine letting this behaviour carry on, which at least is safer than to be left guessing.

Be better for fuck's sake, if there's people in your community on your posts on your tags etc etc feeling comfortable enough saying racist shit and sending hate to poc fans over pointing out racist behaviours maybe you should consider that vague posts about the general spectre of "racism" aren't gonna cut it with the solidarity when you avoid us like the plague while we talk directly about racism in this community. You're showing your face, no matter how much you think you may be flying under the radar rn

[mimsynims]

Fool For Love

part 1

~~~

Author’s Note: I have barely been writing anything (I usually write for the Good Omens fandom) since I started playing BG3, but then a few days ago I felt compelled to start on *something* for this fandom that has completely taken over my mind. I usually post on AO3 but for some reason I wanted to post a first teaser-chapter here on Tumblr.

So here it is, my first (unbeta’d) venture into the BG3 fandom. I have no idea where this is going except that the endgame is a happy ending for Tav and Astarion.

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (Mild?) angst, pining, pining while fucking

Summary: You thought knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn’t have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only… Now you do.

~~~

You watch him laugh as Shadowheart leans closer to whisper something in his ear, and the unwarranted jealousy that has your chest aching leaves a sour taste in your mouth. He may be sharing your bed now and then, but you have no right to him. For all you know, he might be spending his other nights with each and everyone in your camp. And that is his prerogative; pretty words aside, Astarion has never promised you anything other than fantastic sex.

A bitter smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. You are sure he thinks he has you wrapped around his finger. That he has convinced you that this means more to him than it actually does. The sigh leaves your lips before you can stop it, but it doesn’t really matter, because none of the others hear you, too busy listening to Gale regaling another story about his ex.

Annoyed with yourself you rise, an excuse prepared on your tongue in case anyone questions your departure from the merriment. The lie remains unspoken and you’re relieved when you can slink into the shadows unnoticed. Relieved, but also perhaps a bit sad. It’s funny, you’ve spent most of your life aiming for anonymity, to stay under the radar. The unexpected friendships you’ve made since the kidnapping has unravelled all of that. Have made you aware of the dark and empty space in your heart you’ve successfully ignored until now.

Except it isn’t empty anymore.

It happened gradually, and without your permission. A dashing pale rogue stealing your affection when you weren’t looking. Because yes, while you know that his only reason for talking his way into your bed was manipulation, he has unintentionally shown you glints of his real self during your time together. He’s a complicated mess, just like yourself, and you love him. Love everything about him, even though it hurts.

So maybe he has you wrapped around his finger after all, because if you had any sense, you would end this thing between you. You should, but you are a selfish being. One day Astarion will realise that he doesn’t need to use sex to feel safe with you, but until that day comes, you will greedily accept every scrap of attention he gives you.

“Pathetic.”

“Talking to yourself, darling? Or have you made another furry friend when I wasn’t looking?” Astarion gracefully — why is that even when he’s pleasantly drunk, the elf manages to appear graceful? — sits down next to you in the grass. “You already have three of them in the camp, surely that’s enough?”

“Three?” You try to gather your thoughts, but it’s difficult when he is this close to you. “Scratch, the owlbear cub, and…?”

“Halsin, of course.”

“Of course,” you repeat dumbly. True, the druid was in his bear form when you first met, but something in Astarion’s demeanour makes you suspect that that isn’t what he meant. Images of Astarion undressing Halsin floods your mind. Halsin is a handsome and powerful man, so it would make sense for Astarion to seduce him too. Just like he had with you.

“Why are we sitting here, by the way?” Astarion shifts to lean on one hand, his face tilted back to take in the full moon. “Wanted a more romantic setting than your tent this time, darling?”

Oh. So you are the chosen one for the night. You were certain it would be Shadowheart, considering.

“Are you alright, Tav?”

For a moment you let yourself believe that the hesitation you hear in his voice is founded on genuine concern. That he truly cares beyond the deep-seated need for self-preservation ingrained in him. But the illusion can only last so long. You know enough of his history not to hold his actions against him, but right now you’re not in a headspace to pretend that everything is fine. And yet, you try.

“Of course I am.” You hold back a flinch when you hear the acid lacing your words like a toxin. It gives too much away, so you do the only thing you can think of. Your hands are already grabbing fabric before you have finished your thought, pulling him closer before he has time to examine your statement too closely. Before he can figure out your lie.

The night air is cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the hot mouth claiming yours. You might regret it tomorrow, but right now, this is exactly what you need. In Astarion’s arms, you can forget everything but him and what he gives you. Around other people he can seem petty and cruel, but when he’s with you like this… this is different.

Or least that’s what you tell yourself. You cling to the illusion that this is special, and you succeed — until you feel yourself leaning your head to the side, offering your neck.

Astarion doesn’t ask it of you, he never does. It’s always you that wordlessly gives him what you believe is what he truly wants.

And this time it reminds you that deep down, this is just a transactional act for Astarion. Nothing else. He doesn’t care about you, not really.

After you’re both sated, you drift off to sleep without meaning to. It has been a taxing day, both physically and mentally, and the last thing you see is Astarion looking down at you with an indiscernible expression in his red eyes. Almost as if you’re a puzzle he can’t figure out. Except that doesn’t make any sense, because to you it feels like he saw right through you the first time you met.

Some time later, you’re vaguely aware of strong arms lifting you from the damp grass. You must’ve made some noise, because you feel a warm breath against your ear.

“Hush, my darling, you don’t want the others to wake up.”

Exhaustion drags you back under, and when you next wake up, you’re in your tent. Alone.

~~~

[pastelpinkkadan]

My most blunt, controversial ACOTAR opinions. Nothing is safe, nothing is sacred. Mind the tags for your own peace of mind please.

P.S.: Absolutely not directed at any other blog/person specifically. Just general fandom/shippers.

Elriel/Gw*nriel:

Gwyn is not that important of a character. She is a secondary character whose main purpose in the story was to be Nesta’s friend. She has no connection to any overarching plot. She could literally never be seen again in the books and all the main plot points would still work.

People have inflated Gwyn’s character and importance solely because they ship her with Azriel. And they ship her with Azriel because 1. She is the only other single female character (besides Elain) that he has interacted with. 2. Gwyn is enough of a blank slate for people to project/self insert themselves into and thereby romance themselves with Azriel 3. Gwyn has only been shown in a positive light, with only positive personality traits (good friend and can wield a sword) so there’s no REAL controversy on her character/personality. Because there’s not enough to actually have any controversy.

If Gwyn was actually that important, Emerie would also be as important, if not more so. But 90% of time Emerie is forgotten by the fandom. Even to the point that the theory of an Illyrian plot is somehow given to Az and Gwyn, rather than Emerie. The two people that, arguably, have the least skin in the game concerning that theory. And the reason Emerie is this pushed out of her own potential story line is because she isn’t shipped with Azriel or another Fae male.

If there was no Bonus Chapter Gw*nriel would not exist. Or at the VERY least, it would be acknowledged as the crackship that it is. Because outside of the BC, there is nothing in the main ACOSF to accurately ship them to the degree that the fandom does. Elriel, however, still has several books where canon scenes have taken place. The BC is absolutely not needed to show that Elriel have feelings for each other, we already knew.

“Well Elain gave by TruthTeller, so Elriel isn’t end game!” Is one of the stupidest reaches I’ve seen. TruthTeller was always, OBVIOUSLY, meant to be something lent to Elain for the war. It wasn’t a permanent gift, and Az didn’t say it was. He said he wouldn’t use it TODAY, implying he would expect to use it again in the future. Imagine -

“Well Gwyn gave back the books Nesta recommended to her, so they obviously aren’t friends.”

Thats what y’all sound like. It’s just purposely misinterpreting things in a scene that obviously aren’t there for the sake of your ship. It’s disingenuous and not at all the win you think it is.

You cannot call Azriel an incel/fuck boy for Elain and then ship him with Gwyn in the same breath. If he’s all those things with Elain, he’ll be the same for Gwyn. She is not magically going to make him “better” or a gentleman. Actually, he’s already a gentleman. He just didn’t have sexual thoughts about Gwyn and y’all can’t stand it.

Same vein, but if Azriel had had those sexual thoughts in the BC about anyone else besides Elain there would have been no issue/debate.

If a Gw*nriel book did somehow happen, it would 1000% be for fan service/peer pressure. No previous books have set it up, even the main story in ACOSF. Elriel has been setting up since book 2. It makes sense. Anyone who says it doesn’t just doesn’t want it to happen, mostly because they don’t like Elain. And that’s also mostly because they can’t see themselves in Elain, so they lash out.

Saying Elriels are delusional is the wildest thing, because Elriels have the most canon scenes spread throughout the books, Elain and Azriel have interacted with each other positively the most and the longest, and they are the only potential couple that actually bluntly like each other. They exist outside of misinterpreted bonus chapters and “what if” theories with no real backing.

Elain:

Whether anyone wants to admit it or not, part of the Elain hate IS misogyny. The amount of hate this character receives, compared to what she has actually done in the series, is entirely undeserving. She has received the same level of hate, if not more, than Tamlin, any of the ACOTAR villains, and Nesta, who is still a very controversial character. And for what? Liking Azriel, and not wielding a sword while doing it, apparently.

Elain liking flowers does not determine who she’ll end up with. For fucks sake we didn’t know Nesta liked to read smut or was great dancer until her book. And neither of those things determined her partner. It’s just what she likes. Same with Elain.

Nessian/ACOSF

The idea that Nesta will leave Cassian and make her own court is stupid.

Being anti-ACOSF but Pro-Nesta is a streeeeeetch, because all of Nesta’s actual good character development came from ACOSF. Like, did you like that she was angry and unhealed before? Because that’s where she would still be without all that happened in ACOSF.

People don’t understand the intervention that HAD to happen with Nesta in ACOSF. And I would even venture to say that most people against it have never HAD to have a real intervention with someone to that level. The level of, go to rehab/therapy or you are not allowed to be in my house/take up my resources. Because you will not get better on your own, you will only hurt yourself or others and I won’t enable you anymore. It’s a difficult decision that but often it is NECESSARY. Speaking as someone with several addict family members.

El*cien/Lucien:

All the theories about an El*cien plot line are completely focused on Lucien, and ignore everything built up with Elain. It’s always about Lucien figuring out his heritage, becoming some High Lord of one of the courts, or something with the Band of Exiles. Elain doesn’t have to be involved for any of that to happen. She’s pushed to the side in her own romantic story line. Nothing about her Seer powers, or the fact that she’s apparently been gaining spy abilities, or her place at the Night Court.

Lucien fans make me hate Lucien more than Lucien ever could.

The poor Lulu mindset can die.

While we’re at it, the theory that Elain likes Lucien so much that she avoids him is also stupid. That makes no sense. She loses her boldness around. She got better WHEN HE LEFT. All of Elain’s most powerful moments are when Lucien isn’t around. And that says something.

People cling to 1st book Lucien so much, but he has not been that way SINCE book 1.

Tamlin:

Tamlin already got a redemption arc when he brought Rhys back to life. He doesn’t need another one, and he certainly doesn’t need a full book.

The Tamlin/Elain ship is stupid and only benefits Tamlin, not Elain. Once again placing Elain to the side of her own romance, much like El*cien.

ACOTAR:

If you hate everyone in the IC, you don’t actually like ACOTAR. They’re the majority of the books, including half of ACOSF. And it’s actually really stupid to hate the IC and still pretend you’re an ACOTAR fan. Because, again, the IC is the MAJORITY of ACOTAR. Please read something you actually like.

If you hate the entire main story and main characters of ACOTAR, but like one or two characters, you don’t like ACOTAR. You see yourself in a character, and want the story to reflect what YOU want to happen to that character (ie, yourself), and can’t handle that it didn’t. You don’t actually like the ACOTAR series. Again, maybe it’s time to read something else.

3 Acherons x 3 Bat Boys isn’t cliche. It’s a pattern. It’s a literary motif. It’s a theme. It is a pattern that SJM has naturally set up, the fact that you can see and assume that Elriel would be apart of that just means you can recognize basic literary devices in a fantasy novel. Which is the POINT.

I have no intention of debating anything. I’m just stating my opinions on my blog, like everyone else gets to do. So take that as you will.

Anyways, thanks for coming to my TedTalk.

[heathermooch]

TW: Adam Rosner … if you don’t feel comfortable about the topic, scroll past. But I think something does need to be said…

I found out that Adam Rosner has created a new Tumblr account. Using his full name, I’m not tagging him here. Why? I can only make assumptions. Maybe because he’s trying to rebrand his Search Engine Optimization. Maybe he’s trying to clean up his social media presence (he’s posting about diets and gardening, etc). He knows he’s already been written out of the Slenderverse history books, for good reason too.

Yes, he’s an optometrist. Adam Rosner is a doctor in optometry. I haven’t the slightest idea who the fuck would hire him. Especially in the New York City area. If you live in New York City, I would highly suggest to NOT go to his practice. Especially if you have children.

The reason I’m posting this is because I want to recommend to everyone NOT to interact with Adam Rosner. If you don’t already know, Adam is probably the most disgusting piece of shit I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting. He is dangerous, malicious, evil, predatory, fucked up, and a narcissist. I would not put it past him to take advantage of you. I’m begging of you, don’t think you’re immune to him.

If you don’t know, I’m sure there’s a master list of the sexual abuse accusations against Adam Rosner on Reddit or Tumblr somewhere. He has “allegedly” abused, manipulated, r@ped, and groomed multiple fans and ‘friends’ alike, adults and minors. I’m using the word “allegations” because that spoiled crybaby bitch’s rich daddy probably has legal retainer for their fuckup of a son. I’m not intentionally trying to be vague, it’s just very exhausting discussing one of the worst things that has happened to me.

I still think it’s important that the community knows about why he is cast out, because I don’t want any new fans that may have found the Slenderverse post-COVID to fall into his trap. I think it’s pretty well known, but there are a lot of minors in this fandom. And we’ve learned that hasn’t stopped him in the past. If he lied to me about it, he’s lying to everyone else in his life (professionally, especially).

Soooo…the point is…..This is not me advocating for you all to go and comment & reblog his posts letting people know about what he’s done. That would be irresponsible…we wouldn’t want to have people who don’t know him well enough to read the replies & reblogs and find out what he has done…that would be so terrible! Right? We wouldn’t want an “alleged” predator to feel uncomfortable in a safe space he doesn’t belong in. Right? We wouldn’t want to lock down the Slenderverse, that would be ridiculous, right?

Fuck Adam Rosner. I know you’re reading this right now you fucking scumbag. I know you’ll never apologize because you don’t have a shred of dignity or humanity in that empty cavern others call their soul. You’ll never know what it’s like to be loved and respected. You’re pathetic and I hate you more than anyone in this world. Others should too.

[nart-is-a-monster]

The following post contains people hating on a character on a skirt and a brief mention of sa and unaliving, please if any of those is something that triggers you skip the post and take care of yourself.

lets begin with the boundaries that i have

I do not feel comfortable with minors going to this or my nsfw acc simply because, is not a safe place for you to go (not even social media too but that's a different talk)

I do not like people going into any of my acc's to send my draws or content to minors bc... bitch do i even have to explain how fucked up that part is?

And last but not least; if you're going to talk shit about me at least talk shit with bases and evidence, how do you not have the first and most important rule about gossip? like??????

booooo tomatoes tomatoes tomatoes tomatoes tomatoes tomatoes tomatoes

I will not name anyone that was involved because first of all,they are minors and even tho they are old enough to know that what they're doing is wrong, naming them could do more harm than good and I think they are able to change if they just accept that their actions have consequences.... I'll be also using neutral pronouns for the ppl involved.

if you know the ppl that are in the screenshots please don't share their social media or acc's to avoid them getting harassed, also please don't harass the people mentioned here.

with that being said!

this situation has been happening for i think the last month when someone informed me about someone talking shit about my art on a private discord server.

I think that the concept of blocking blogs that have stuff that you're triggered or you don't vibe with is very simple to understand.

the persons that have been talking about how i don't draw normal stuff and how dare i to draw varian in a dress and being cute ohh no god forbid....

I don't know if you can't realize maybe I'm drawing Varian (A CHARACTER THAT DOESNT EVEN EXISTS) as trans masc and trans fem, and that anyone can have their hc and any hc are valid!

IF YOU DON'T LIKE WHAT I DO OR DRAW JUST DON'T FOLLOW ME ¡is that simple!

the situation with the person who is the owner of the server where they talk shit about me has not moderate well the place and allowed ppl to hate talk about a creator who they don't even know, neither talk to, nor they should interact with.

I tried to confront the person by sending them a text message on tumblr, said text message has been ignored and the person simply uploaded a new post back then, so....

also im going to tag this with vat7k bc the problem happened inside the fandom.

screenshots and more details under the cut

how to respect other people's boundaries

aparently y'all need a tutorial

"A certain kind of guided, detailed writing can not only help us process what we’ve been through and assist us as we envision a path forward; it can lower our blood pressure, strengthen our immune systems, and increase our general well-being. Expressive writing can result in a reduction in stress, anxiety, and depression; improve our sleep and performance; and bring us greater focus and clarity."

this is from an article of harvard that explains how writting helps to heal trauma.

remember to inform yourself before talking or using terms you don't know the meaning

trauma bonding definition

what is destructive criticism

I can accept criticism when it comes from a place of pointing out a part of my artwork that can be upgraded or a different technique i could use, or even the pose or the technical aspect of a painting/drawing, what is literally just insulting an artwork because you don't like it and have no grounds for it and is just hate... that's what i don't accept.

criticism and arguments come from a ground of respect from the both sides, not from only straight up hate and disrespect.

that's all i have to say abt it all...

please remember to be safe online and even more if youre a minor

how to be safe online

[stranger-opinions]

maybe it's not a writers-block; maybe you just need a break

creativity is a muscle, right?

you need to exercise it to keep it in good shape, to have it ready when you need it and don't we all love those hyperfocused sprints of writing where the words just spill out of our fingertips...

but muscles get sore when you overuse them, will strain when you force them past their limits, they need nourishment to stay healthy and in shape

fandom today has a competitive atmosphere. many wouldn't admit that; it's supposed to be fun after all. just vibing with our mutuals, playing with the blorbos having a fun time online to scratch a few itches.

but the truth is that it can become a lot of pressure rather fast.

putting out several k of (edited) writing a month, setting up painstakingly formatted posts with the right tags and a fun header we spent hours on to look effortlessly cool and eye-catching just to hit post and then feel... nervous. excited too, sure...

but damn, when will the next chapter be finished? or the next one shot? will there be enough time to put a few blubs in between so that the few people who actually seem to care won't forget about us and move on?

writing for writing's sake is a nice notion. the myth of the self-sustaining artist who needs nothing more than a passion and their tools of choice.

but shit isn't just created out of nothing.

what has that all to do with the title of this post do you ask?

very few people can just keep going and going making art like that without needing any breaks and a good portion of those people very likely have very different conditions than most of us have with full-time jobs, families, school and so on.

For many of us writing is a main outlet, an important hobby and a safe space but that still doesn't change that it is a creative hobby, an outlet that demands energy: emotional, mental and physical (typing for hours is hard work if you want to believe it or not) and that sometimes makes it impossible to accept that we just need a fucking break.

"writers-block", in my own experience, is my brain telling me that something is off and that it's on strike until I fucking fix that.

and sometimes it's just that I need a break.

that I need to recharge my creative batteries, take in things that inspire me, that make me happy and get me excited without having to make anything myself. to just be. take some walks amongst trees, watch a new series, read a new book, go into a deep dive of some random topic on wikipedia until I don't know where the fuck I started from.

sometimes I just need to log out, cut the overstimulation of a never ending dashboard, turn off what everybody else on tumblr is doing, how much everbody is putting out, get away from my frustration about "my flopped fic" or the latest fandom drama and reconnect with the real reason I am doing this.

the love for stories and the source material.

for some people those breaks can be as short as two days, for other is might be weeks or months and that is not only okay but totally normal.

sometimes you might realize that the reason you are not writing is that you actually don't want to. sometimes you just want to daydream without the extra work sometimes you're just not in a writing mood and it's not much deeper than that.

that doesn't have to mean you're done with your blorbos. it just means that there are more valid and fun ways to play with them.

don't worry, the fandom will still be there when you decide to pick up the keyboard again. maybe with less people, maybe with many different people but you will always find someone who cares. those who have moved on to different things not come back wouldn't likely have stayed if you had powered through.

fandom shouldn't be a you're in or you're out thing but a place you come to when you want to.

contentification of fandom has had a lot of negative effects on the way we create and so many people fade from their hobby because they simply burn themselves out to a point where it leaves a scar.

so. find something that makes you happy that does not require you to invest too much creational energy. rest those muscles as long as it takes.

nothing you can get on tumblr or ao3 is worth the sore brain, the frustration with yourself and the stress you add onto your mental health ontop of everything else in your life.

recharge, reevaluate, reconnect

have fun

[l0velylecter]

imagine...

characters : simon ‘ghost’ riley, john ‘soap’ mactavish, alejandro vargas, captain john price, phillip graves, kyle ‘gaz’ garrick  fandom : call of duty modern warfare ii rating :  m for suggestive themes, minors don’t interact (mdni!), not safe for work (nsfw!) tags & warnings : cursing & mentions of sex, female body parts, not proofread 

imagine price coming home at the same time as his ( extremely successful ) missus and leaning against the doorway to watch her undress in their walk-in closet. the mere sight of her under the gentle, orange glow of the lights, slightly bent over the table to take off her ( south sea, celine ) pearl earrings across the mirror enough to make him drop everything and just watch. silent, focused, entranced: price's eyes moved slowly, roaming down the bra and her sheer black pantyhose. when she stops at the realization of being watched, he only fondly tells her to continue, voice low and gruff — don't stop now, love.

imagine graves crossing his arms together and tilting his head to get a better view of his babygirl applying lipstick: laser-focused on how she rubs her lips together — rogue red (charlotte tilbury) staining the tip of her thumb as she swipes to fix it. graves only chuckles against her neck when she scolds him for ruining her hard work, his hands already hiking up her dress to palm her ass.

imagine soap melting against the soft and warm lap of his bonnie as she runs her hand across his hair, fingers grazing the scalp and turning his head into mush. his mind still heady from the lazy makeout session against the couch. she thanks him for taking her out on a pedicure, hands already trailing down his chest and down his abdomen to unbuckle his pants, eager to show him just how pretty her fingers look around his —

imagine gaz gawking at the set of wheels his love got him for his birthday, only recovering from the shock when she twiddled her fingers nervously, face crumbling at the thought of him disliking it. he immediately hopped behind the wheel to reassure her, fingers tentatively touching the leather interior. when the engine purred to life, he let out an excited cheer, eyes lighting up like a child’s on christmas. he can’t wait anymore, locking the door to push the passenger seat of his new aston martin v8 all the way to the backseat — pinning her under him, hands running down her sides. he wanted to thank his darling, in more ways than one. imagine alejandro having to yell at one of his men for jogging straight into a pole because he was distracted by his cariño — eyes in front, cabrón! she can't help but let out a bewildered laugh at his sudden outburst, running her hands down his shoulders to soothe his temper: reminding him that he's supposed to be lenient with rookies. flustered, alejandro had dragged her inside one of the tents, zipping the entrance up before trapping her against a table. she mentioned how silly it was for him to compliment her sundress only to rip it off. he says he’ll get her a new one.  imagine ghost pinning both her hands against the wall, a scowl under his balaclava as he snarls — you fucking brat. she lifts her chin in defiance to retort with a snarky comment. a moment later, she's weeping, sobbing, begging against his chest: three of his fingers barely pushing past her entrance. he stares at how her mascara stains her cheeks, lips trembling and legs shaking, clenching down his wrist as they try to balance themselves on sleek, black stilettos. not satisfied, he flips her so that she has her palms flat against the window ledge, ass bare for him to discipline some obedience into her.

a/n : i don’t know what would be a good title for this but these are just my midnight thoughts... i love the army couple trope , where reader fights side by side with the men, those are really chef’s kiss because it means the characters understand each other ( e.g : when it’s an afab! reader and it touches up on their struggles as a female officer in the army ) but i also need a benefactress or old money heiress or fashionable human rights lawyer or cia informant f!reader [ i used her instead of ‘you’ in the imagine above to test the waters but feel free to make it a self insert! ] who sucks with a gun in her hand but excels in other fields of counter-terrorism or even as a housewife/work wife/civilian. i know it sounds less realistic or even impossible, but to be fair, considering how military operations often need help from external divisions such as law, humanitarian aid, medicine, etc. it is more than possible + God forbid these women have military husbands who work covert and dangerous operations as if they also don't have hounds nipping their heels and praying on their downfall by playing dirty with the kind of money and information they carry. Although distinctly different, they can definitely relate to each other in more ways than one and maintain a form of mutual respect, understanding and even love.

 ( i just don't have the depth and writing skills to explain my thoughts and this very specific trope that itches my brain yet, but just wait babes i'll get back to my point in the future i swear 😭) additional hcs for imagine above : → i can see gaz as a long time james bond fan, so the car referenced was from the most recent bond movie starring daniel craig : no time to die  → i always see price and his dynamic with the missus ( wife ) as a george & amal clooney kind of vibe, except george in this case is jonathan and not an award winning silver fox but rather a medal decorated war hero silver fox. she would be a human rights lawyer ( and i’m sure she treats gaz like her own son and has met simon a few times due to how many missions he used to run with her husband back in the day ) → soap + a bimbo gf, he would adore her.... → graves wants to live that lana del rey national anthem life so bad it’s embarrassing ( me too ) where he owns a holiday home by the lake + he dreams of having a son when he retires so he can make him wear expensive khaki shorts and teach him how to fish ( highkey enjoys golf ) → alejandro falls victim to his girl showing up to base in a cute sundress only to find out she’s not wearing any underwear. he simultaneously loves and hates it. → ghost has a crying kink, don’t get me wrong, he has been through a lot and his trauma probably won’t make him enjoy any sadistic kinks. but he does like manhandling you and is not afraid of being a little rough, and seeing you all vulnerable and crying ( out of pleasure ) just drives him feral. plus, it turns him on to fuck you when you look so dolled up and pretty ( gives him a reason to mess you up ) +  likes the fact that you’re bratty too