#granted that's over 50% of the words because the other ones are just

[seospicybin]

PROFESSIONAL COURTESY.

PROLOGUE

Felix x reader. (s)

Chapters: Part I / Part II

Synopsis: Discovering that his new boss is someone he had one night stand with, Felix struggles to separate work life and personal business. And at times, finding himself mixing those two as he works under your dominance. (9,8k words)

Author's note: I hope you like it. I hope you really do because it's only the prologue hehe

Felix works at a sports news outlet, Sports One.

Initially, he wanted to become one of the contributing journalists in the team but he got hired for a different position instead. As long as he got in, the only thing to do was work his way up to get to that.

However, the climb to the dream job isn't easy.

For the last two years, he's been working as an assistant to the editor in chief and recently, the one he worked for got fired for money and sex scandals which brings disadvantages to the company as the name swirls around with his name along with the many indecent things he did.

The position now is vacant and that leaves Felix's future uncertain. In his defense, he did nothing wrong, he got interrogated as well because of the scandals and proven to have no connection whatsoever to the scandals which secured his job for now. But it seems like he has to wait until someone takes over the position to find out his fate.

There's a rumor going around the office that the managing editor will be appointed Editor in Chief, not only because he's been loyal to the company for the last eight years but he's been indirectly taking the role while the real one was busy embezzling fund and using the money to party with underage girls.

Rather than moaning about his uncertain future, Felix helps around the department and he likes it, it gives him an idea of what it's like when he becomes a contributing journalist.

"You're working harder than most people here," the managing editor, Mr. Kang, says.

Felix shyly smiles as he continues typing on one of the contributing journalists' computers, "I take it as a warm-up session because I'll be working for you soon," he teasingly says to him, hinting at the rumor.

Mr. Kang lets out a sonorous laugh, "I'm afraid I'll be taking Yoon with me," he says.

Yoon is his assistant who has been working for him for three years, the most loyal but also the most mouthful, she's responsible for the 90% of rumors spreading around the office.

"But you know what, I like seeing where you're sitting now, Felix. I think you belong in this chair," Mr. Kang adds with a sly smile and eyebrow raised.

His future suddenly gets so bright and hopeful, he can see how beautiful it is but still out of his reach. Nevertheless, he only needs the rumor to come true so he can have this chair.

Yoon may have been responsible for the 90% of the rumors spreading around the office but the accuracy is below 50%, the rumor could be 50% true or 50% rumor, he also can't ignore the possibility that Yoon started this rumor just to build people's opinions to favor her boss.

In other words, Felix's future is uncertain still.

For the first time, Felix chose to believe in the rumor and manifest it hard because who knows? If he thinks of it hard enough, the universe may grant his wish, and the climb would be over.

-

It's Friday night and Felix has planned his night.

First, he's going to his friend's for his housewarming party which reminds him to buy wine as a present. The perks of being an assistant to a vacant position are not only that he can leave work early, but he can also ride his bike to work.

He puts on his leather jacket, gets on his bike, and turns the engine on, the bike is roaring alive as it's vibrating between his legs. He then puts on his helmet to finally ride his bike out of the building and into the world.

There's nothing like it, the feeling of riding through the city streets as adrenaline adrenaline surging all over his veins as he pushes the speed closer to the limit.

Arriving at his friend's house, Felix parks his bike next to the gate since the driveway is packed with cars already. His friend doesn't even own the house, it belongs to his girlfriend who recently bought it with the money she makes from working as an art dealer.

The house is in the most luxurious and exclusive suburb, sitting on the hill that overlooks the city so Felix can't lie, he's impressed.

The house seems average from the outside but once he gets inside, it's so big and spacious, filled with expensive shiny, furniture.

"It's a nice house," Felix says as his friend welcomes him in.

Suddenly, the wine he bought for a housewarming gift feels so cheap in his hand. He hesitates to give it to him but his friend has seen him carrying it and it would be rude not to give it to him.

"A housewarming gift," he says, awkwardly handing it to him

"Thank you," he takes it from his hand and proceeds to take him on a house tour.

It doesn't take long for him to feel overwhelmed by everything he's seen inside the house, also, he doesn't see anyone he knows in there except for the host of the party.

Felix decides to step out of the fancy house and head to the garden, he sees a group of people there, smoking and chatting. Tempted, he comes up to them and politely asks for a cigarette. Not only did they give one to him, but also lit it for him.

Not wanting to bother them more, Felix heads out of the gate and walks around the area while taking slow drags of his smoke.

It's the most luxurious piece of land yet they provide such poor streetlights, if it wasn't for the full moon that shines so brightly, it would be dimly-lit streets.

His phone beeps with a new notification, and he checks it with the cigarette dangling in the corner of his mouth. It's a text from his other friend, telling him to join him at the bar. He composes a reply before shoving his phone back into his leather jacket pocket.

When he looks up, he senses the presence of another person there but he can only make out the shape of a figure that walks toward him from the opposite direction. He can't see the person but he hears the clicking of their shoes against the pavement then a loud, cracking sound.

"Fuck!" A voice says.

Felix stops walking and takes the cigarette dangling between his teeth. Just because it's an exclusive real estate doesn't mean it's free from criminal acts. He feels alerted as the voice keeps cursing and sighing but he waits there to see if the person will eventually reveal himself.

A light shines out of nowhere then he notices it's coming from a phone screen and there he sees, a face, a beautiful face that he believes belongs to a girl.

"Hello, yes, can I order a taxi?" You talk on the phone.

The voice confirmed it, you are a girl. Felix immediately tosses his cigarette butt onto the pavement and steps on it.

"Hi, hello?" He hesitantly greets.

With your phone still pressed close to your ear, you immediately step back in horror, realizing that there's someone else there.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to overhear, I..." he starts explaining but you keep retreating as if he'd hurt you.

Felix raises his hands to show he doesn't bring anything with him and doesn't mean to harm you, "I'm here for a party and I was just walking while smoking when I found you calling for a taxi," he explains.

You remain cautious and hold your phone in one hand, ready to call the police if you need to. While the other hand is carrying your broken shoes which he guesses, you won't hesitate to fling it to him if you need to.

"Yes. And?" You ask with a glare at him.

"It's tough luck to get a taxi here, even if you get one, you will have to wait for at least half an hour," he says, keeping his hands visible at all times, or that shoes will fly at his face.

"And that's if you're lucky," he adds.

You put your hands down to your sides and let out a sigh, "What are you suggesting?"

"It seems like you need help to get somewhere, I mean, I can give you a ride," Felix carefully says, he doesn't want to sound like a creep saying that but there's no other way to say it.

You look at him, scanning him up and down with laser eyes that could see through him.

"Why?" You ask with a voice that is heavy with suspicion.

Somehow, Felix finds the whole situation funny and can't help but let out a laugh. But that seems to give you the wrong impression, he quickly gets ahold of himself and puts on a normal expression.

"I was about to leave the party anyway so I don't see why not," he simply answers.

Seeing that you're still suspicious of him, he decides not to force the help on you, "But if you have ordered a taxi then I'll just..."

He pretends to walk away just to give you not much time to think about his offer, he starts to regret it though that after a few steps away, you don't call for him.

"Fuck. Why did I bother?" He sighs to himself as he digs his hand into his leather jacket pocket, "This is so fucking—"

"Hey, wait!" You finally call for him.

Felix is having a moment of triumph, he quietly smiles and slowly, turns around on his feet and keeps a coy expression on his face.

"Yes?"

"Can you please give me a ride?" You ask, suddenly turning into this girl with puppy eyes that shine even under the dim light.

Somehow, that works to melt his insides and he can't find it in him to say no to you.

"Sure," he says with a smile.

You come up to him while hugging your purse and shoes in front of you.

"I hope you don't mind we have to walk a little," he says.

"It's okay," you mutter, even though it doesn't seem comfortable to walk barefoot on a cool night like this.

The walk back to his friend's house is quiet with the moonlight that shines through the tree branches illuminating both of your faces and the occasional sigh you let out from walking barefooted against the cold pavement. He thinks of offering himself to carry either your purse or your shoes for you, but that would only make you suspicious of him again.

Arrived at the gate of his friend's house, Felix turns around to face you, "You can wait here while I—"

"I don't mind walking a little more," you insist, hugging your purse tighter in front of you.

Well, Felix can't stop you but it's a good thing that he didn't park the bike far from the gate. The keys are jingling as he fishes it out of his jeans pocket.

"So, where did you park your car?" You ask in confusion while craning your neck to the row of cars parked in the driveway.

"Uhm... actually," he scratches his head as he walks over to his bike to show you what he rides.

There's an unreadable expression on your face but he sees how one corner of your mouth slightly quivering, not pleased with what you're seeing.

Felix unlocks the trunk under the seat to get a helmet for you, he then gives it to you.

"I'll drive safely," he assures you before you can say something about it.

-

The bike launches forward as it stops right in front of the hotel and Felix is more than glad for the journey to end. The front of his jacket is crumpled from how you've been clinging to him for dear life and he didn't even ride in high speed.

He pushes his visor open and looks over his shoulder while offering his hand as a support to help you get off the bike.

When you take his hand, your hand is cold as ice and he feels bad for not insisting you to wear his jacket.

"Are you okay?" He asks as he sees you slightly staggering backward the moment your bare feet touch the pavement.

You use his shoulder to steady yourself and let out a sigh, "I'm okay," you tell him.

You take another step back and that's where he can see fully see you. You're wearing a silk blouse with a tight skirt, he notices the flimsy stocking and the expensive designer purse but the strap is a little torn, either from overuse or someone yanked at it too hard.

Wait, it reminds him of how his former boss likes to have a lady escort wherever he goes and they usually dressed exactly like this.

"For the ride, can I... pay you with money?" You suddenly ask then rummaging inside your bag, accidentally exposing a bundle of cash inside.

"No, no, it's okay. You don't have to pay me," he quickly refuses.

First the hotel, then the way you dressed, and now the cash... could it be true?

You pull your hand out of the bag and hug it close to your chest, "Then how can I— Can I at least buy you drinks at the hotel bar?"

The hotel surely has better alcohol than the bar where his friend is waiting, but then again, what if it's true? That you're a lady escort and you ask for money at the end of the night?

"No," he refuses again, he's smiling but eagerly shaking his head, "No need. I'm just happy to help."

"Are you sure?" You ask again while hugging yourself.

"Yes," he hastily replies.

"I don't feel good knowing I owe someone something," you tell him.

"You don't owe me anything," he assures you, "I'm just happy to help."

You feel dejected by it then slowly nodding your head in understanding, "Then, I have nothing else to say but thank you," you sincerely say.

"No problem," he coyly says.

You look at him and hold his gaze for a moment before looking away, "I should head inside."

"Yeah, it's cold," he says, seeing that you're shivering the longer you stand outside with no shoes on.

You turn around to leave but he calls for you, making you turn on your feet right away.

"Yes?"

"My helmet," he says, pointing to your head.

"Oh?" You shyly laugh, realizing that you still wearing it.

Noticing that you're struggling, he gets off his bike and stands in front of you to help you unclasp the straps under your chin, then slowly take it off of you.

"Thanks," you say with a sheepish smile and quickly fix your hair.

Felix holds the helmet on his side and standing there looking at you. This is the first time he can see you wholly under the bright light of the hotel entrance. Your hair is flying around from the wind and your eyes are flickering, offering warmth that he didn't know he sought.

Suddenly, he doesn't feel like going, he wants to follow you inside and lingers in the warmth of your gaze.

"Once again, thank you," you mutter with a smile, the sincerest smile he ever seen on you.

It gets him so flustered out of nowhere that he looks down and holds the helmet in one hand, "Don't mind it."

You seem to have something else to say to him but decide not to say it out loud. You gulp air and stifle a nod, "Have a good night!"

"You too," he says back.

This time, you turn around and keep walking without looking back, entering the hotel with the doorman politely greeting you and opening the door for you.

And that's the last he's seen of you.

-

Or that's what Felix thought.

He forgot about your shoes until he stopped at the bar and opened his trunk to put his helmet inside. It's a pair of strappy, black sandals with one of the heels broken and flapping open on the back of the sole.

If this is expensive, you would have asked for it but since you didn't, he guesses it's better to throw it into the trash. It's broken anyway.

Felix carries the shoes with him to the side of the bar where the dumpster is and as he's about to toss it in, a girl who smokes there notices what he's about to dump.

"Wait, wait, wait!" She comes running to stop him from whatever he's doing.

"Yes?" He asks in confusion.

"Are you throwing away those shoes?" She asks with eyes widening in slight horror.

"Excuse me?"

"The shoes," she points at the shoes.

"Uh... yes," he stammers with the shoes still hanging in the air around his hand.

"Just give it to me, please?" The girl says she's not even asking but urging him to give it to her.

"Why?"

"I want those shoes," she simply answers with a fake big smile just to soften him.

But he senses that she knows the real value of the shoes and that's why she wants it so badly. Felix puts down his hand and hides the shoes behind him.

"No, I'm not throwing it away," he says.

"Why? Why?" She stammers, trying to peek behind his back for the shoes, "How about I buy it from you?"

"No, I was... I was mad at my girlfriend and threatened her with the shoes. I didn't plan on throwing it away, I'm just... just trying to scare her," Felix made up a story on the spot just to get rid of the girl.

The girl doesn't buy it or she's simply persistent on buying the shoes from him, "Well, I'll buy it still and you can—"

Felix hides the shoes inside his jacket and hugs it close to his body, "No, I'm sorry. I can't do that. This is not for sale."

The girl keeps following him and insisting on buying the shoes, her persistence is admirable but it starts to scare him as she almost follows him into the restroom of the bar. He even locked the door just in case she tried to barge in.

Felix takes a moment to breathe after putting down the shoes on the top of the sink. Seeing how much the girl wanted to buy it from him, makes him curious about how much it costs.

He pulls his phone out to do a quick internet search, he takes a picture of it to get a definitive result and he lets out a gasp from finding out how these shoes cost a fortune, like a whole lot of fortune.

A lady escort can't afford this, he reckons. Let's say it's a gift from someone but it's a lot to be considered as a gift a rich person gave to their favorite lady escort.

He suddenly treasures the shoes more than before, he clutches them close to his chest and protects them as he walks through the crowded bar.

"Oi, Felix, we're here!" His friend shouts from across the room.

"I have to go!" He shouts back.

"You just got here. Where are you—"

He can't hear the rest of the sentence as his voice is drowned out by the music and the chatters, and he pushes through the packed hallway, and then out of the door.

Felix has a new plan tonight: Return the shoes to you.

-

How many people walked into a hotel barefooted though? Surely not much so it shouldn't be a problem for the lady at the reception to identify you. She gets suspicious of him instead for not even knowing either your first or last name.

"I'm not allowed to share our customer's information," she says.

What is it with people being suspicious of him tonight?

"I'm not asking for her information," he reminds himself to keep calm, "I just need to return these to her."

Felix puts the shoes on the top of the counter and he knows these are broken shoes but he has an explanation prepared if she gives him a funny look.

"You can leave this with us and we'll make sure to hand it to the rightful owner," she says with a courteous smile.

But that's not what he wants, he wouldn't even bother coming here just to give it to the lady at the reception. She's not who he wants to see.

Felix puts on his charming smile and leans forward on the counter, "I'm planning on handing these personally to her so can you help me?"

Instead of winning her over, the lady seems a little creeped out by it so she slowly takes a step back.

"Can you call her room and tell her that I want to return her shoes," he pauses to lean closer and amplifies his charm before saying the magic word, "Please?"

Felix is cringing inside but he keeps his smile on for another second and it works, he's still got it.

"Let's see what I can do for you," she says.

He intently watches as the lady calls your room and talks to you through the phone, asking if it's okay for him to come up to your room to hand you the shoes.

The lady eventually hangs up the phone and Felix looks at her with hopeful eyes, waiting for her to say something.

The lady cracks a smile and then says, "She's on the 25th floor, suite 15."

"Oh, thank you so much!" Felix grabs at her hand in joy and quickly lets go once he notices.

In the elevator that takes him to the 25th floor, Felix starts to get a bit nervous. He's aware that returning the shoes is a weak reason for him to come here when the truth is, he wants to take what you offered him earlier.

He fixes his leather jacket and then the collar of his shirt next, he brushes his hair as much as he can just to make it look less of a mess.

He raises his hand then it stays hovering for about a few seconds as he musters up the courage to finally knock on the door.

Felix's foot anxiously bounces against the carpeted floor as he waits by the door and holds your shoes with both hands in front of him.

A moment later, the door finally opens and there you are, standing behind the door dressed in a white hotel bathrobe.

"Come in," you say, leaving the door open for him as you head inside the room.

It takes Felix a few seconds to come to his senses as the door is slowly closing, he hurriedly stops it with his hand and then gets inside.

As you stand there in the middle of the room of the suite you're staying in that is too big for one person, he notices that you're not wearing the bathrobe for the sake of being in a hotel room, you've just showered. There's no speck of makeup on your face and your hair is damp, it feels like he's seeing a different you from the one he met earlier, pristine and bare.

"I'm sorry, but what is your name again?" You ask with a hand on your waist.

As a matter of fact, you both haven't gotten the chance to introduce each other and he blames that entirely on his haste judgments for thinking you're something that you're actually not.

"It's Felix," he eloquently answers.

You look at him then eyeing the shoes he's been holding on his side, "Well, Felix, you can put them down somewhere," you tell him.

It would be rude to just drop them anywhere, he opts for a piece of furniture he sees for the first time and carefully puts your broken shoes on top of the dresser.

"Please, have a seat!" You tell him as you waltz to the bucket of ice and a bottle of liquor he guesses you have ordered even before he came here.

There are so many options to sit but he decides on the long sofa that could fit five people and sits on the far end of it, fiddling with his jacket, wondering whether to take it off or not.

"I hope you like cognac," you say as you come up to him with a drink in hand.

Felix immediately aborts his plan to take his jacket off to take the drink from your hand, he hesitantly takes a sip as you sit so close next to him when there's so much space left on the sofa but you choose to corner him.

"So Felix," you shift your body to face him and gracefully cross your legs, "what made you come here?"

If you can afford to stay in a suite at a 5-star hotel, then you definitely can afford the same pair of shoes you broke tonight. He stares at his drink for a while as if it would tell him the answer to your question because he doesn't know what made him come here, but he knows it's not because of the shoes.

"The drinks," he settles on a safe answer, "You offered me drinks and I took the offer a bit late, I hope you don't mind.

"I don't mind at all," you say with one corner of your mouth raised higher than the other, "I got a feeling that someone is coming. That's why I ordered a bottle in the first place."

He nods and takes another small sip of his drink, funny that he can't taste the alcohol at all, it tastes oddly sweet and light, or maybe the effect unknowingly has taken over him.

"It's nice to have drinks with someone," you add.

Yet Felix is the only one with a drink in hand and you're only watching him drinking his alcohol with your fingers pressed against your temple.

The way you're looking at him makes me feel like an object that is being studied, but he likes that it makes him feel fascinating to you. He'll like it more if your eyes look a little less intimidating.

You suddenly let out a low chuckle "Want to know something?"

Felix swallows his drink first to answer you, "Yes."

"I was having a really bad night tonight," you share with a sad smile, "Until you came."

He doesn't know how to react to that because that came out of you unexpectedly, catching him off guard. The only thing he can do is smile and have another sip of his drink.

Noticing that he almost drains his glass empty, you hurriedly take the bottle and refill it for him, "Then you refused my offer about the drinks and I must say I felt a little dejected."

You settle yourself back to your seat and somehow, you sit closer to him, leaving just enough space between your bodies.

"But here you are, making my night a lot better," you continue with a voice that turns lower than before, almost like a whisper.

For the first time, Felix braves himself to look at you and sees how you're staring back at him with eyes that know no fear, unwavering. It makes him nervous, but at the same time, it inexplicably arouses him.

"You get me wondering..." You take the drink from his hand and have a long sip without your eyes straying away from his.

Your eyes get him thinking of filthy things and wanting to do those things to you, he deeply wishes if that's what you've been wondering, if you allow him to do those things to you.

He swallows air as you put the drink away and put your attention back on him, he's dying to know the rest of the sentence.

You reach for the collar of his leather jacket and slide your hand down the lapel, you're only touching the jacket but he's shivering as if you're touching his skin.

"I wonder if things could get any better than this," you finally finish your sentence.

Your eyes meet again in a gaze and you grab the front of his jacket, pulling him close so you can crash your lips against him.

Felix pulls himself together to return the kiss, putting all of him to impress you because that's all he can think of, he wants to impress you. To do that, he dares himself to have a little control, putting his hand on your jaw to angle your head to the side so he can deepen the kiss.

You let out a low moan as he parts your mouth open with his tongue and slips it inside, tasting more of you. Your hand is crumpling the front of his shirt and pulling him closer as the kiss goes deeper.

There's no way he doesn't enjoy kissing you, the way you keep letting him in and responding to his kiss, oh... he can't stop even though he feels a little lightheaded from running out of breath.

You notice it too as you slowly pull away but keep your lips lingering only inches away from his lips, teasing, tempting him to kiss you again.

You lean in with your mouth slightly parted open, brushing your lips against his repeatedly so that your warm breath is the only thing he's inhaling.

Felix boldly decides to be the one going for it now so he leans in only to find you slowly backing away from him.

"I can make things get any better than this," you confidently mutter to him.

With a sly smile, you get up from the sofa as you dramatically take your hand off him, you take the bottle of alcohol in one hand and a glass in the other hand, walking away from him to show him where to go so he can follow. You slide open the two doors that lead to the bedroom and leave them open for him.

There is it, the answer he's been looking for, he came here not to return the shoes, not for the drinks but it's for whatever is waiting for him behind those doors.

-

With the doors left ajar, Felix can see you sitting on the end of the bed, legs crossed with your thighs exposed and a drink in hand. The eyes you're giving him are different, they're fierce and full of anticipation as if you're expecting something from him.

After a moment of just looking at him with those eyes, you put down your drink and rest it on your lap.

"You can take your jacket off," you say.

But it doesn't sound like a choice, you want him to take his jacket off, it's an order and he's more than fine to oblige. He pulls them down and shakes the jacket down his arms, tossing it to the chair nearby.

There the eyes again, you sip your drink with your eyes staying on him.

"I like the shirt," you say after swallowing your drink.

That's not a compliment, to him, that translates as you want the shirt off him too, and again, he obeys without complaint, working open the buttons on his shirts one by one with his eyes looking back at you.

The pupils in your eyes dilated as Felix parts open his shirt, revealing his toned body with the room providing proper lighting to showcase his abs. He then tosses the shirt onto the chair, piling on his leather jacket.

Your eyes straying away from his face, they're traveling down his body and he notices the eyebrows raise, a sign that tells him something piques your interest.

For the last piece of clothing, Felix wants you to try a little or at least, make it fair. He knows that you're wearing nothing under that bathrobe and that's fair to him, but he wants to uncover you first because you've been showing a lot yet so little at the same time.

"Want to know why I came here?" He asks you, walking up to you to get the drink out of your hand.

You look up at him as he gulps the rest of the alcohol, he winces as he forces it down his throat and puts the glass aside to get it out of the way.

"I came to make things better for you," he mutters.

He leans down, propping his arms against the mattress and caging you in between them. With him leaning so close and half-naked, he expects it does something to you but you don't falter, not even a little.

Instead, he finds you looking back into his eyes and then you take his hand, placing it on the belt of your bathrobe, allowing him to undress you, in other words, satisfying his need to see your body.

He becomes the one who's nervous for both of you, he tries to remain calm, slowly untying your bathrobe with one hand as tension rises in the room. He has to prepare himself well before parting them open, uncovering your beautiful mounds to him with your nipples erected from being exposed to the cool night air.

Just before he puts his hand away, you take it in your hand again and use it to touch you. Tilting your head to the back, you use the back of his hand to touch your neck and drag it down your front, stopping right on your sternum, you steer his hand to the side.

Now you're using his palm and making him cup your breast in his hand, keeping it there as you lock his eyes in a gaze again.

"You see that?" You ask him as you hold your breast up with his hand, "It looks so perfect in your hand."

Felix is tongue-tied, speechless, his eyes can't catch up to what he's touching but indeed, the way your breast fits perfectly in his hand, he can't help but think that it was made for him.

"Mmh..." you lowly moan as you knead on your breast using his hand.

He can no longer resist himself but uses his hand, touching you as he wants and you eventually let go of your hand, letting him do as he pleases.

You pull him by the neck so you can kiss him, keeping his mouth busy as his hand fondling on your breast and pinching at your nipple once in a while.

Without him realizing, your hand is making its way to the waistband of his jeans. You use both hands to pop open the button and then swiftly unzip his fly, wasting no time to put your hand inside his boxer next.

He has to admit that was impressive, considering that you did all that without looking but he has no time to tell you that when his tongue is in your mouth and your hand is palming his semi-hard cock.

With the current position no longer comfortable for him, he climbs onto the bed and you seem to be more than okay with him hovering above you, if anything, it gives you more reach inside his pants.

That applies to him too, he moves his hand down your front, and he moves slowly as he knows that he's close to where he wants. He lets out a low sigh the second his hand makes contact with your sex, it's soft and delicate like touching a flower.

It's a good thing that he knows how to treat such a beautiful, fragile thing. So he touches you there with so much gentleness and care, that he can feel it blooming under his touch.

It works wonders as you can't seem to keep up with his kisses and your hand is pausing a few times at stroking his cock. You suddenly take your hand out and pull him close only to flip him over, forcing him to take his hand off you.

As you sit straddling him, you take the chance to remove your bathrobe, exposing your naked body to him and only him. Then you crawl over, not stopping until your cunt is right above his mouth, and carefully, you sit on his face.

Felix is not prepared, let alone ready for it but he knows how to use his mouth, especially with how wet and warm you are on his mouth. Just because he's not ready, doesn't mean he's giving up the chance to please you with his mouth.

As you move your hips back and forth against his mouth, you take his hands and place them on your breasts again, guiding him to where you want to be touched. Then you drop to the back with your hands propped against his thighs, continuously thrusting your hips against his mouth.

"Oh, fuck..." you breathlessly curse as the profanity echoes in the room.

His fingers circle on both nipples as his mouth takes more of you, sucking on your clit and then using his tongue to drill into your entrance.

"Oh..." you loudly moan, now moving your hips in slow, circular motions.

Felix let go of your breasts, deciding to curve his arms around your thighs to firmly hold you close, sucking on you harder and intentionally pressing his nose against your clit as breathing is not his main concern at the moment.

He knows you're getting closer to your release as you whine and moan, sometimes both. He loosens his hold around you as a breather, repeatedly running his tongue down your slit as he inhales air to fill his shrinking lungs with lots of oxygen.

However, you decide to spice things up by planting your foot against the mattress, giving more space for his mouth and also, so you can see how well he is at using his mouth. You intently watch as he slips his tongue in and out of you with his half-shut eyes looking up at you,

"You know how to use that mouth for good, mmh?" You mutter at him with your hand in his dark locks and tugging at it.

He smiles with his mouth full of you and with your essence dripping around his mouth, and you think you've never seen something as filthy yet sex like this.

Another profanity falls out of your parted mouth along with a breathless moan, you tug at his harder and harder, he's taking them as a sign that you're close to your release.

This is not what he had in mind when he decided to come here but did he regret it? Not a fucking chance. Felix feels like living in one of his wild fantasies but it's real, he can taste it on his tongue and it tastes so fucking good.

With your head thrown to the back, you let out a mix of a mewl and moan at the ceiling, signifying that you indeed have reached your high.

He rubs his hands up and down your thighs as he watches you slowly descending from your high and back to him, where you can see his mouth is drenched with your bodily fluid. You reach for his face, using your fingers to gather your juice, and then shove them into his mouth, not letting them go to waste.

"I must say you're good with your mouth," you say, watching him lick your fingers clean. You flash him a satisfied smile as you pull your fingers out of his mouth before leaning in to kiss him.

Felix is more than relieved to give you that and surprisingly, he doesn't expect anything in return, he's getting pleasure just from pleasing you, he doesn't know if that makes sense.

You slowly retract yourself and straddle him again, this time you sit right on his crotch. When your hand is wrapped around his cock again, he changes his mind immediately, he needs to have his release, preferably with your help but the how is entirely up to you.

"I don't have any condoms with him," you inform as you lightly rub the tip of his cock with your thumb, "But I'm on the pill and I'm clean."

He always carries a condom in his wallet, just in case something like this would happen and his wallet is inside the inner pocket of his leather jacket, he could get up and get it but would he risk this comfort of your hand wrapped around his swollen cock and more importantly, skipping the chance to feel you wholly.

So he nods and opens his mouth to speak, "I'm okay with that."

But you seem too focused on watching your hand pumping his cock as it's getting impossibly harder in your hand.

"So hot..." you sigh while looking at him with eyes filled with bewilderment, "and so hard..."

"So perfect in your hand," he continues your sentence.

You shake your head in disagreement, "I think it's going to be perfect inside me," you murmur.

Hearing you say that makes him think it, imagine it, and wish those words become true. He's confident with both his body and his skill, but remembering that it's going to be his first time doing it raw, his confidence shrinks a little.

You take his hands and pin them above his hands as you're hovering above him, "It's my turn to give you a ride."

Even though the ride in this context is a different thing, Felix should give you the chance to return the favor, right? He keeps his hands there as you kiss him and slowly pull away to shift your focus to the next thing.

You hold his cock upright and slowly rub your cunt against it, wetting it with your essence. Oh, just feeling your wetness around him is enough to make his brain short-circuit.

"Mmh..." you delightfully hum as you repeatedly rub his shaft between your folds.

When you stop, he knows that it's going to be the time. He quietly takes a deep breath and watches as you aim his cock into your entrance, then slowly, you ease yourself down on him.

It's overwhelming to see and feel his cock going inside you, but try not to explode at the same time. Somehow, he keeps watching as his length disappears into you little by little until he's fully sheathed inside you.

The moan that escaped his mouth is raw and hoarse, you smile catching yourself hearing that. You place your hands flat on his chest and look down at him.

"I like that," you lean in to give him an open-mouthed kiss, "that's the most beautiful thing I ever heard."

Felix can't remember the last time he moans during sex because most of the time, the partner does that part for him, but he takes that as a compliment and it's a good thing that you like it.

With eyes closed, you slowly roll your hips to feel his length inside you and he can feel his cock rubbing against your velvety walls. You're so warm, so tight and so good around him, he doesn't stop himself from moaning to tell you that.

"It's that good, huh?" You say with an eyebrow raised and a cheeky laugh.

Unable to answer verbally, he stifles a nod at you.

You gently cup his jaw and mutter, "I want you to keep moaning for me."

And he finds himself nodding at you.

It's not hard to fulfill your request when you're fucking him so good, You're not going fast or slow, you set a steady pace but he's already getting close to his release.

Without protection, he can feel every drag of his cock against your wall as you bounce on it and watch it slips in and out of you making it harder for him to hold himself back.

Aware of it, you slow down and pull him out of you, hurriedly wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock.

"No, not yet," you tell him between your pants.

He can't decide whether he should be thankful that you abruptly stopped or glad that you're doing that, for now, he decides on the latter.

"I haven't had enough of you so you can't cum yet," you say with a hint of assertiveness in your voice.

To his surprise, he finds himself nodding to you again.

After a moment, Felix managed to calm down and gain some of his senses back. He kisses you back as you kiss him while your hand is keeping his cock pumped for the next session.

The second time isn't getting any easier for him, he feels even more sensitive than before and just being inside you strips away all of the senses he just gained back.

"We'll take it slow this time," you mutter with a mischievous smile.

You stick true to your words, rolling your hips back and forth in painstakingly slow motion. You prop your elbows against the mattress to watch his reaction with your face hovering only inches away above him.

"Do you like it?" You ask with a smile, knowing exactly what you're doing to him.

"Yes," he hastily replies.

"So you like it slow, huh?" you say with an easy smile.

Felix starts to think that it's not about the pace, you're just too good at this and it's truly impressive since you're doing all the work while all he's doing is just lying there on his back and moaning for you.

"Getting close, mmh?" You say with a kiss pressed on his jaw.

Indeed he is and you're showing no sign of stopping even though you know, he's afraid that he's going to cum for real this time.

"Just a bit more," you murmur, adding intensity to your thrusts.

It's obvious that you're getting close as well, he can feel you tightening around him and giving him no choice but to—

You pull him out again right on time, you do the same as you did earlier, holding the base of his cock while you're straddling him.

At first, you seem to him like any other girl, beautiful and delicate, wanting to be treated, and spoiled. But here you are, breaking that notion and showing him that you're not just any other girl.

"Can we continue now or do you still need more time?" You ask with your head tilted to the side and a coy smile that lingers on your face.

And how do you have this much stamina in you? He does nothing but he feels exhausted from how you're giving him all sorts of sensations in those two intense sessions.

Maybe Felix likes being the one treated and spoiled like this and only figured it out now because you're the first person to ever do that to him.

"Do as you please," he says, completely surrendering himself to you because he believes you're going to give him what he wants.

Your smile grows wider hearing his words and on the third time, Felix has prepared himself for it but that doesn't stop him from whimpering as you slide him in again.

"Mmh... I like that you're only getting harder inside me," you hum.

You're reaching down for your clit to rub on it, pleasing yourself with him inside you and letting him watch it. He has the best seat in the house for it but his eyes widen in horror once you start clenching around him.

He's torn between letting you continue pleasing yourself or stopping you before it gets too late. He tries to stop you but all that comes out of him are incoherent words.

"Oh... I– Mmh..."

You stop touching yourself and look at him, "What did you say?"

He's shaking his head instead, not wanting to sound like a blabbering buffoon to you.

You let out an amused chuckle and peck his lips, "Very cute."

That one compliment makes him flutter inside and—

"Oh!" You gasp, "I can feel you twitching inside me."

You lean in to give him a long peck on his lips with your hand steadily holding his chin, "You're very, very cute."

Oftentimes, he doesn't like being called cute, he prefers to be seen as this cool guy, and his deep voice supports that title but suddenly, he doesn't mind that at all. He likes being cute, very, very cute for you if that means being a moaning mess under you as you're incessantly fucking him at a fast pace.

You don't stop yourself from moaning as well, grunting as you keep moving with all the strength you have to take him to his high.

Felix's hands fly to grip each side of your waist out of reflex, it's unclear whether he tries to stop you or guide you, either way, there's no way he's making it this time.

"Just a bit more," you breathlessly mutter with your head tilted up at the ceiling.

But Felix is on the brink of exploding into a million pieces with all these overwhelming sensations going on all at once. His nails dug into your flesh and his moans are turning into helpless cries as you tirelessly move.

"I can't, I can't," he repeatedly says, so close to hitting his limit.

You immediately pull him out and this time, you keep your hand wrapped around him, pumping him at a fast pace and concentrating hard on keeping the pace.

He's growling and his fingers clawing at your thighs as your hand does the job of keeping the pleasure going and ultimately, taking him to his release.

It only takes him a few pumps to finally come undone.

"Oh..." his voice breaks.

He can feel everything but at the same time, his body feels numb until he opens his eyes and sees that his legs are shaking and his cum is making white streaks on your stomach.

"That was close, eh?" You say with that coy smile of yours with your hand coated with his seed.

Felix can't remember the rest of the night but one thing he knows for sure is that things can't get any better than this.

-

It feels like he's been sleeping for ages that when he comes to his wake the next morning, he has to force his eyes open like they've been glued shut for a long time.

He slowly rises on the bed, propping his elbow against the mattress, and looks around, the bed is empty, it's just the quiet that hangs in the room that greets him.

He rubs his eyes like it would help him clear his mind and when he hears the footsteps coming, he suddenly pretends to be still sleeping.

But he sees through his squinted eyes, that you're walking into the room in your skirt and bra on, taking something out of your bag, then walking to the mirror that hangs on one side of the wall.

He watches as you meticulously put on your earrings one by one and then fix your hair by brushing it with your fingers. There's something about watching a girl getting ready, it's like he's watching a movie where the character is unaware of the audience in the room.

You head to the bathroom and he lets out a breath of relief for not getting caught watching you getting ready but that's a haste thinking.

"I have to go at 8," you announce as you come out of the bathroom with your blouse still unbuttoned.

Felix scrambles on the bed, pulling the duvet close to his chest, and is busy covering his body like you haven't seen him butt naked last night. Realizing how stupid he makes himself seem, he lets his hand drop and acts casual.

"I'll see myself out in a few minutes," he says, after checking the clock and it's half past seven.

"Take your time," you tell him.

You walk to stand at the side of the bed while tucking the hem of your blouse into your skirt.

"You can stay and order breakfast," you add, smoothing your skirt as you speak.

"My treat," you add.

This time, he can't tell if that's an order or just a courteous offer, so he just sits there on the bed.

"Okay," he innocently answers while blinking his eyes at you.

The phone rings and you gracefully pick it up, pressing the handle to your ear.

"Yes, I'll be there in five minutes," you talk to the phone.

You take your blazer from the hanger and put it on, going around the room to collect your things, shoving them into your bag as you head out of the room.

Felix thinks you're already out of the door but he doesn't hear the door being closed. But he starts dragging himself out of the bed and getting up, sending the duvet slipping down his body.

He stands looking out of the window that offers the city view from this height, butt naked. He stretches his arms out and fumbles when he sees you coming back.

"Felix," you call him from the doorway.

It's too late for him to cover himself so he acts like it doesn't bother him, "Yeah?"

"It was nice meeting you," you say with a smile.

Indeed, it was nice meeting you as well and you made quite the first impression on him, one that he'll likely remember all of his life.

Despite how much he enjoyed last night, the night has turned to day and he has to continue living his life knowing that he'll never see you again.

-

The news that his new boss is coming to the office today doesn't affect Felix's exceptionally good mood.

Yes, he is disappointed that Mr. Kang is not appointed as the new Editor in Chief, not because that means he won't get the promotion he implied a couple of days ago, but because he knows how much he deserves it.

Felix takes his cup of coffee with him to join everyone heading to the auditorium to welcome the new Editor in Chief and he patiently waits until the group of people gathers at the entrance to disperse to get inside, he's not in a hurry anyway.

However, it's at a time like this his mind starts to wander to that night, he can't seem to forget it, not in his wake or even in his sleep.

"I don't think you'll be smiling in the next few minutes," Yoon appears from behind him, her glasses slump down the bridge of her nose and her bangs are perfectly curtained on her forehead.

He gets so used to her appearing out of nowhere just to spread her negative aura and ruin his day, but he tolerates her because if there's one person who knows how much this job takes a toll on him, it's Yoon.

"And here comes the sunshine," Felix says with a forced smile, he has to keep his coy even though she caught himself smiling by himself.

"You can say that promotion goodbye," Yoon says, crossing her arms together in front of her.

"At least, now we know the accuracy of your rumor decreased by 20 percent," he remarks, starting to get in line to enter the auditorium.

"At least, now we know you get to keep the job," Yoon gives a rather too-honest comeback.

"Touche!" He responds, not having anything to say back to that.

Felix chooses to sit on the farthest row from the stage and Yoon occupies the seat next to him, clutching her cardigan together, looking fidgety as always.

"So, you got any dirt on my new boss?" He curiously asks while casually taking sips of his coffee.

"The usual," Yoon says as she leans back on her seat.

"Nepotism, Ivy League graduate, interned at the Finance Times, worked as a contributing editor at Club 9 magazine for a year which is a sports magazine centered around golf by the way, and..." She's rambling on and on, spilling information at a light speed.

Felix often wonders how Yoon acquired all this information, he can't even keep up with the things around him, let alone having the time to learn about someone.

"I wonder why her family sent her here to handle the—"

Felix catches something that he doesn't expect to hear, he quickly swallows his coffee and asks, "What?"

Yoon rolls her eyes and turns her head at him, "She's engaged to this– Was– engaged to another nepo baby—"

But that's not the part he's asking about, "No, I mean... she? My new boss is a she?"

Yoon glares at her this time, glaring as if she's not pleased with what she heard, "You're not going to be a misogynistic fuck who objects to having a female boss, right?"

"No," he quickly denies and Yoon's glare softens a little.

"I'm not expecting my new boss to be a woman," he holds his hands up at her to stop her from attacking him and lets him finish talking first.

"I don't mind at all. I'm just a little... just a little taken aback," he explains, emphasizing that he doesn't mind whether it's a male or a female, his only hope is that his new boss isn't going to give him hell.

The applause erupts in the auditorium as Mr. Kang enters the stage, he sees someone lingering by the side of the stage which he assumes is his new boss.

"There she is. The one you'll be working for," Yoon informs while weakly clapping her hands together.

Felix can't see the face as she stands with her back to the side, but in his opinion, she's dressed a little too neat considering that she's going to work for a sports media outlet.

Mr. Kang finishes with his short speech and it's finally time for him to call the person who stole his chance at leading Sports One.

"Let's give our new Editor in Chief a warm welcome," Mr. Kang leads the applause as he takes a step back for the new Editor in Chief to take the podium.

"I hope it's not someone I knew," Felix jokingly says, standing up to see her.

Yoon snorts as she stays on her seat, amused by what he said, "Pfft... you wish!"

When he sees his new boss take a stand behind the podium and then speak into the mic, his heart skips a beat. He recognizes that face, that voice, and ultimately that smile, it's you, the one he had sex with and indeed, someone he knew.

Felix swears that he meant it as a joke but he wonders, could things get any better than this?

-

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[chocsra]

"Gentleman, you say?"

15! Chuuya x reader

Reader is implied to be fem!, could still be gn!

Warnings: swearing, alcohol

Contents: your mafioso roomate being annoying, fifteen era, mafia! reader, pre-relationship, idiots in love, teen romance, fluff, ooc? chuuya (idk)

Sorry for grammar! Not proofread!

Working in the Port Mafia wasn't so hard.

You were granted a new family, money and status. There were a select few members who were noteably young, as young as teenagers. This was mainly because of the gifted, limiting manpower into making criminal organizations choose children as their subordinates.

You didn't really mind it--being a kid in the mafia. It had it's ups and downs, yes, you did murder; but what would you have been really doing if you tried to live as a civilian as a gifted?

One thing you didn't like though--even hated, was the Port Mafia dormitory.

Constant parties, the overwhelming scent of alcohol and cigarettes in hallways, and don't start on the drama. Your only source of peace was the empty unit next to yours--at least that gave some sort of silence in the dreadful nights of Yokohama. Cramped in the tight apartment that secretly held mafioso teenagers, ones which the other residents thought of as school delinquents.

Until that asshole took it; the short ginger boy with a permanent scowl on his face, the boy who had the best style you had ever seen. And you hated it. Ever since you were fifteen, he and his smelly bandaged friend would storm into his apartment; have the loudest arguments--no, fights in the middle of the night.

Before, if you couldn't sleep, a nice cup of hot milk and basking in the night's breeze would do the trick. Now, there was a 50/50 chance he was there smoking on the balcony next to you, alone or with that annoying mummy boy.

It's been a few months since then, and you were sure that he hasn't even recognized you once as his neighbour; and it pissed you off, considering the amount of sleepless nights he caused you. It was safe to say you had one-sided-beef with the boy who used screaming as his fight or flight response.

And because finding someone absolutely insufferable meant asking numerous people about them, you asked a few of your subordinates who were into drama about said boy, eager to learn more information about him. Because he pissed you off, is why.

"Oh, you mean Chuuya? He like, used to be the King of the Sheep before he joined the mafia, I'm pretty sure." Your friend chided, you and a few other girls were standing in front the doorframe of Kouyou's office, all surrounded in a circle. "Really? That's wild." You scoffed, folding your arms over your chest. "Yeah, and the guy who recruited him is that emo guy; he's supposed to be Bosses successor, right?" She asks, twirling a strand of her hair. "His name is Dazai, and yeah. They're called 'Double Black' or something." Your other friend joined in.

Just as you were talking, a tall woman with ginger hair and pale skin stepped out of her office; her elegent hands clasped together under her pink kimono.

"What are you girls talking about?" The woman questioned, her hair tightly held up by long gold pins. "[Y/N] was just asking about Chuuya, sis." Your friend replied, you scoffed in response. "I was just asking because he's an annoying neighbour!" The other girls laughed. "Oh, Chuuya, I was recently requested to take him under my wing." Kouyou responded, revealing more information. "Actually? What do you think of him?" One of the quieter girls asked enthusiastically, the woman only chuckled in response.

"He's quite the gentleman, I'll say."

Kouyou's words only echoed in your ears as you lay in bed, a pillow ontop of your chest. "Gentleman.." You repeat, staring mindlessly at the ceiling. "Gentleman my ass!" You kick the wall next to your bed to no avail, tightly wrapping your arms around the pillow. "If he was, he would've seen how tired my eyes are from not sleeping.. and finally shut the fuck up.." You mutter with heavy eyelids. It was around 2 am. And it was one of those quiet nights, thankfully; but you still had trouble falling asleep.

As you were about to finally drift off to sleep, cradling your pillow in your arms; a loud strum of a guitar sprung you awake. It sounded like a electric guitar, and the person playing it had a shit ton of energy. A sultry voice sang melodically as loud waves of music crashed from his guitar. You had an idea of who it was.

Storming out of your cramped apartment, only in a thin t-shirt along with loose shorts, you scrammed over to Chuuya's apartment door angerly. "I swear to God.." You curse under your breath, the damn guitar still audible. Closing your fist, you firmly knock on the boy's door.

Knock, knock

The fast-paced strum of a rock song quickly stopped, light footsteps could be heard behind the steel shaft, before he finally unlocks it.

"Yeah?" The boy cracks the door open, he had his short ginger hair down; and he wasn't wearing the black fedora and choker like he usually did. A red and white electric base guitar slung lightly over his shoulder and stomach, the cord connected to the bottom, leading to what you assumed was his bedroom. Chuuya was wearing loose black sweatpants along with an oversized white t-shirt. Even though the boy was small and lean, you couldn't help but notice the exposed muscles on his forearms. 'Shit.' You cursed at yourself, before meeting his stormy blue eyes once more.

"You're so damn loud all the time, can't you play that at another time of day?" You huffed, crossing your arms. "There are people trying to sleep." It wasn't the safest option to yell at a criminal who had possible connections you had no idea of, but you were also a criminal, and would definitely kick his ass if he tried anything, right?

Chuuya looked at you with a slight frown, but you were right in the end, so he sighed and ran his lithe fingers through his ginger locks. "My bad." He mutters, feeling a bit embarrassed. "That's all you can say?" You murmur, you felt a little bad, but he was the waking cause of your terrible eyebags. "You could be a little more quiet next time." You add on, looking off to the side.

"Yeah, I know. My fault." The redhead said, apologizing begrudgingly. You only sighed and assured it's okay now before you soon left. Knowingly storming off into your apartment as the boy watched you with guilt yet irritation on his face.

Although the next morning, you rubbed your eyes and opened the door to take out the trash. Only noticing a small box infront of your doorstep with a yellow sticky note on it, you crouched down to properly read it.

'Sorry we had to meet that way, neigbour. Take this as a peace offering.

- Chuuya N.'

As you opened the box curiously, it was homemade packaged bento, along with a small corgi made out of rice on the side. The stupidity of it made you laugh a little. Even though his handwriting made you question if he knew how to write at all before this; a smile still crept on your face as you took the box and note inside.

"Quite the gentleman, huh?"

[coldbronzemoon]

Danny Fenton, Totally Mortal Hero Consultant (DPxDC)

Snippet for an AU I'll probably never fully write where Danny takes a job as a consultant for the Justice League to help with ghost and demon bullshit. It's a pretty good cash flow to help him with college, after all, and very flexible hours.

He just claims all his knowledge comes from his parents. Unfortunately, the JL has caught word of the elusive yet active hero Phantom, and want Danny to help them meet and assess him. Whoops.

Over the phone, Tucker sighed. “Good Christ, Danny, why do you keep doing this?”

“I’m not doing anything,” Danny said immediately. He winced at the vague sound of screaming below. Demons sucked. “I didn’t know the JL thing was gonna have me finding Phantom. How would I? They were talking about tracking down powerful ghosts, I was assuming Ancients!”

Tucker sighed again, which was really quite unfair of him. “Mhm. Well, Fenton Catcher?”

“Probably not. They know me pretty well at this point, and unlike what Sam says I can be professional. I’d confuse them with the… uh…”

“Stoner shtick?”

There was more screaming happening, but judging from the pitch it was a demon screaming this time. Danny checked the situation. Yep, demon getting their ass kicked. He didn’t need to get involved with a blaster. Yet.

Instead, he scowled at his phone. “Stop calling it that.”

“You’re gonna tell me flanny Danny wasn’t a pitch-perfect stoner, huh? With the chill vibing and the dopey look?”

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, bud.” 

The sound of a clacking keyboard that had underlined their conversation stopped. “But seriously, Danny, what the hell are you gonna do with this?”

“Uh, lie, probably,” Danny said, because it was very likely.

“Alright, smartass, what are you going to do when that lie backfires on you like literally every other one does?”

“That’s when I start gaslighting, gatekeeping, and girlbossing, babe.”

He had a hard time hearing Tucker’s distant groan of “Why am I still your friend?” on account of the sudden explosion. Danny checked again. Hm. Demon dude had a nasty fire thing going on.

Danny switched on his Fenton water gun—holy water included!-- and shot the demon in the face. They let out a cracking hiss of rage, but dropped the fire spell thing. He waited for them to stop looking around wildly for the culprit for a moment. 

He went back to the call. “‘Cause you loooove me, Tuck. From the bottom of your twice-dead heart.”

“Unfortunately,” Tucker deadpanned.

Danny just cackled. It was lost amongst the sound of supernatural bullshit below.

“Anyway, I’m still figuring out my plan A, honestly. Might bring in gray-man?”

“Amorpho’s an asshole, though. He’ll ruin the whole thing by taking the opportunity to shift into a JL member for a bit.”

Hm. True.

“Yeah, but he’s the main guy I know with that power set.”

“Ask after Desiree?” He could hear the immediate distaste in Tucker’s voice. “Ugh, pretend I didn’t say that. That’s worse than Amorpho.”

“It’s awful,” Danny agreed easily. 

Desiree was actually pretty alright nowadays, mostly on account of Danny remembering the last couple minutes of Aladdin and wishing she could refuse wishes she didn’t want to grant. That had made her happy enough to stop actively picking fights. 

Unfortunately, spending the entirety of one’s afterlife twisting the wording of wishes to their worst form made it hard to stop being an asshole. Who knew! So getting Desiree to split him in two for like a week had a 50/50 chance of fucking up his work relationship with the literal league of superheroes irrevocably. And this was his main cash flow right now.

So, no Desiree, no siree.

“Come up with something better then, asshole.”

Danny hummed and, since the heroes below were focused on the demon, lifted up a little and did a thoughtful back flip. What to do, what to do…?

Oh!

“My cousin!” he exclaimed.

“What cous—? Oh, Ellie.”

“Yeah, Ellie, Tuck. Which other cousins do I have?”

Tucker scoffed. “You literally have that whole Nightingale thing going on through your dad?”

Danny couldn’t help the face he made. The remaining Nightingales were worse than his parents somehow. “The Nightingales don’t count.”

“You can’t just say they don’t count.”

“I can say that, actually, and I will. They’re, like, cousins through my great-great-great-grandpa anyway.”

“Isn’t there a fight going on over there? Should you be shooting someone?”

 “Yeah, probably.”

He peaked down through the window once more. The heroes must have gotten the first demon to leave while he was talking, because the horned demon fighting them now was a truly unfortunate shade of yellow-green instead of purple. Or maybe it had transformed for some reason? They had it about as in-hand as the other one, though, so Danny definitely didn’t need to go down there. He shot the maybe-new demon in the face real quick.

“Anyway, Ellie can totally help out, she’s been practicing with changing up her looks. She’s also more, uh, malleable than me, what with her situation and all. Looking fully like Phantom shouldn’t be hard.”

Tucker hummed. “She’d try to embarrass you though.”

“Yeah, that’s a problem.” Danny spun in place. “I could bribe her?”

“With what? Her life doesn’t involve needing much cash.”

“She doesn’t get out to the Zone very much. Not many of the inhabited places, anyway. I can promise her the weird apple things Dora’s been growing with Sam’s help, she loved those.”

“If you think that’ll work…” Tucker trailed off dubiously.

Danny laughed. “She’s annoying sometimes, but she’s not gonna fuck over my job if I ask her not to. I’ll just bribe her extra hard for resisting the temptation to mock me.”

“Fair enough.” The clacking of keys resumed. “I’ve really gotta pay attention now, someone’s trying to stop me from getting into this database. Someone half-decent, actually, did they upgrade? Hm. Make sure no one died, yeah?”

“They’re alive. Bye, Tuck,” Danny said, and ended the call.

He shoved his phone back into his jacket pocket and made his way down the stairs. The fight outside he had been stationed for was basically over—Captain Marvel and Green Lantern (Danny was pretty sure he had accidentally learned the dude’s actual name at some point, but hell if he could remember)—had pulled out the magic restraints one of the other consultants had handed out.

That had probably been Constantine. Ugh. Constantine. Dude could stand to lighten up a little; skulking and smoking all the time wasn’t the base state of someone enjoyable to be around. Then again, Danny knew he annoyed the shit out of some of the league with his own attitude, so he maybe shouldn’t talk. But at least he was annoying with a smile!

Case in point: Danny grinned at the heroes. “Got it handled?”

“Suppose so,” said the Green Lantern, “though a little more help would have been nice.”

Captain Marvel was too busy getting in a minor tussle with the demon to say anything either way.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m like, pretty mortal,” Danny said. “I’m not fucking with demons right where they can hit me. And I did shoot him!”

Green Lantern rolled his eyes, but admitted the point. Danny cheerfully flipped him off anyway.

“I’ll be heading out, then, the hellmouth this guy crawled out of is like three miles away.” Captain Marvel said, hauling the handcuffed demon over his shoulders like a very angry backpack.

“Oh, one more for the road!” 

Danny hit the demon with a final water gun shot. Hissing and scrunching their face like a cat, the demon tried to lunge at him. It wasn’t very successful. Weirdly non-verbal for a demon, who usually had to talk to make deals and steal mortal souls, but Danny wouldn’t judge. Might be a minor demon. A really basic imp? Who knew.

“Stop being a little bitch and you won’t get spray-bottled, asshole,” Danny chided.

With a loud laugh, Captain Marvel sped away.

[itsnevercasual]

Look Into His Angel Eyes

pairing: harry styles x zoologist!youtuber!reader

summary: harry takes his niece to the san diego zoo, and you just so happen to take care of the animal she’s obsessed with. koalas.

warnings: zero knowledge of zoology LMAO, not edited, a few curse words

—

harry had expected a lot more fuss when he went to a very famous, very popular zoo. he expected at least someone — one person! — to notice him or recognize him.

nobody had even given him a second glass.

those kids movies were right. change your har (put on a beanie) and wear sunglasses (because even if it was a little chilly, it was bright), and you were a whole different person!

well, until gemma’s little girl, rosie, who was usually a gem and the best kid ever, started crying. over what, you may ask?

she demanded they find the koalas.

granted, she was only five, but.. he was still worried people would see him and recognize him.

when he had graciously offered to drive rosie to san diego to go to the zoo because gemma simply didn’t have the time, he forgot it was a public, normal people zoo.

so, he asked someone where the koalas were (and then four more people after that on the way there, all of which informed him that he better hurry if he wanted to catch the koala talk, which was supposedly a big hit for some reason), and made his way to the other side of the zoo.

who the hell made this place so big?

—

you’d been living in san diego for five years, since you were eighteen. you’d been working with the koalas at the san diego zoo for that same amount of time.

18 and fresh out of high school, you moved far, far away from your horrible hometown and even more horrible people, and went to san diego to both go to college for zoology and work your dream job.

well, technically, it was an internship at first, but still!

like most little girls, you were obsessed with animals. however, instead of dogs or some other basic animal (though, koalas are still pretty basic, you suppose), you were obsessed with koalas. and then, it never went away.

your mother tried anything to talk you out of it, into a safer career path, she’d say. more secure.

well, fuck secure because you were about to go talk to little kids who were just like you when you were younger and feed a baby koala.

you had also started a successful side career as a youtuber. you made regular videos like vlogs and hauls and whatnot, and also educational videos about koalas. some of your vlogs were at work, such as today.

“so.. we have jess here to record as i do a koala talk. and.. it is officially 1:30, so let’s go!” you exclaim, handing your coworker, jess, the camera.

you pushed open the door (more like gate) and walked out. there was a fairly large crowd today, including the cutest little girl with a pink dress on right in the front row.

you set the crate (don’t yell, it’s a big crate. and it’s simply to take them from their exhibit to the talk area, which is a distance of maybe 50 feet) down on the wooden table.

the talk area was pretty much their enclosure, but instead of a glass wall, it was open and the kids could see better.

you opened the crate and slowly coaxed the bears out. you’d only brought two today. mila, and her baby charlotte (you always called her charlie, though).

once they were out and climbing on the branches, you turned to the crowd.

“hi, guys! my name is y/n, and i’m basically in charge of the koalas here! who here has been to one of my talks before?”

a few hands raise.

“good! well, today, we have a new guest… who remembers what was happening with mila last talk? was anyone there?”

one little boy raised his hand.

“yes, the.. little boy in a blue shirt?”

“jackson!” he told you.

“jackson, sorry. what was going on with mila? for everyone who doesn’t know, mila is that big one right there.”

“she was— she had a baby in her tummy.”

“she did!” you respond enthusiastically. “and a few months ago.. four months ago, actually, she had her baby! who wants to meet her?”

all the little kids screamed me! me! me!

you laughed, “alright, let me grab her.”

you walked over to mila, petting her head as you slowly took charlie away.

“hey, mila.. can i take her real quick?” you ask as if she can hear you, before speaking to the crowd. “mila and i have a special bond, if you ask me. she had her baby right around the time i had mine. so we are both new mothers,” you laugh. “but, anyway! i’ve been with mila since she got here, so she really trusts me. which is why i can easily just..”

you grabbed charlie off of mila, and put her on her shoulder like you did your baby.

“so, everyone, this is charlotte, but i call her charlie! now, i have a very special job for one of you.. but i need someone who will be very careful, because charlie is still a delicate baby.. can anyone hold her for me while i feed her?”

and finally, the adorable little girl interacted. she started jumping and raised her hand.

you walked over to the fence separating you from the crowd, crouching to be eye level with her. “and who might you be?”

“rosie!” she responded. and oh, she had a baby voice and she was british.

“rosie! well, do you think you can hold her for me?”

“yes! yes, please!”

“alright, we’ll get you and dad back here—“

“ehm.. uncle..” her uncle, not father, responded in a british accent.

“oh, sorry! you and your uncle back here. and what’s your name, rosie’s uncle?”

he hesitated, before— “harry.”

your brain slowly put two and two together as you glanced at his tattoos.

harry styles.

“oh, i see,” you respond, “well, let’s get you guys back here!”

you opened the gate they were thankfully standing right in front of, and they walked into the talking area before you shut the gate.

you led rosie to the center, crouching down to her again.

“alright, we’re gonna do this in a funny way. can you stick out your arm for me?”

she did.

“i’m gonna put charlie on your arm, alright? she’s gonna wrap herself around it, and her claws might scratch you, but it’s fine, yeah?”

“yes, ma’am!”

“aw, you’re so polite. alright.. charlie incoming!”

you slowly adjusted charlie to curl around rosie’s arm.

“it tickles!” she squeals with a laugh.

“yeah?” both you and harry — harry styles — respond at the same time.

“alright, i’m gonna grab her bottle! stay here!”

you ran over to grab it, and while you were shaking it so it was ready, you felt something wrap around your leg.

“hi, mila!” you exclaim to the koala wrapped around you.

you carefully walk back over.

“i’m gonna feed her for a minute, and then i’ll let you and your uncle try, yeah?”

“okay!”

you started feeding charlie as you spoke again.

“so, the reason we feed charlie instead of having her feed from her momma, who is clinging to my leg, is because charlie was born a little early and needs a little more nutrients!”

you talked a little more about koalas and their behavior before rosie wanted to feed her. and after a few minutes of that, you glanced to harry.

“you wanna give it a go?”

“sure, why not,” he shrugs.

“charlie seems pretty cozy.. so, i’ll give you mila. she’s a little heavy, though.”

you bent over and took mila off your leg, handing her over to harry.

“hold her like a baby on your hip.. it’s kinda like a.. odd hug! a koala hug, if you will. i’ll grab her bottle.”

you ran over, and when harry began feeding her after you returned, he asked a question.

“so.. why do y’feed mila? i know charlie’s a baby and all, but..”

“that’s a very good question! so, mila is getting a little old, and she was also brought to us injured. that, paired with giving birth four months ago, we just have to give her some more electrolytes… her bottle is actually just white gatorade. we tried green, but she hates it. she’s very picky.”

“well, that’s cause y’gave her green.”

“hey! who has the degree here? yeah, shush.”

“yes, ma’am,” he laughed.

—

once the talk was over, you told rosie and harry to stay back.

you let charlie and mila climb about the branches while you spoke to them.

“i just want to make sure you both are alright with being in a video.. also, you need to wash your hands.. jess should be back with the sanitizer soon.”

“can i ask what video?”

“oh! right, sorry. i’m a youtuber, and i sometimes film my talks to publish and whatnot. i’ll blur your faces, of course. i blur everyone in the crowd’s faces for privacy reasons, but i figured you’d be.. more.. concerned about that than most.”

“you know?”

“i mean.. voice is a giveaway.. i also follow gemma’s instagram, so i recognized rosie,” you shrug. “but anyways, you’re good with the video?”

“yeah, of course.”

you then turned to rosie to answer her bajillion questions about koalas until jess came back with the hand sanitizer.

“so, just use a lot of this, and you’ll be good,” you explain, putting a few pumps into each of their hands.

once they were all clean of koala germs, you told them they were free to go.

rosie ran forward, but harry lingered.

“thank you,”

“oh, yeah. of course. i figured you wouldn’t want koala germs—“

“no, i mean thanks for giving rosie that opportunity.”

“oh! of course. i love seeing little kids who love them as much as me.”

“she’s bloody obsessed with the things.”

“mm, yeah. they’re easy to love. word of advice, don’t shoot her love for them down. it doesn’t exactly work. i mean.. look at me,” you laugh.

“i will keep that in mind,” he smilez. “what was your name again?”

“y/n.. y/n l/n.”

—

a/n: enjoy

[wheels-of-despair]

Corroded Coffin v. Slip 'n Slide Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie and Evil Woman find an old Slip 'n Slide at a yard sale, and Corroded Coffin is super excited to try it out. Contains: Summer fun, Eddie getting to live out a childhood fantasy, Evil Woman being surrounded by morons. Words: 1k

"Always wanted to play on one of these."

You put down the ceramic figurine you're inspecting for chips and look at the box Eddie's holding. Another yard sale in the next town over, so big it was advertised in the paper; the only thing that'll get Eddie out of bed before noon on a Saturday.

"You've never been on a Slip 'n Slide?" you ask.

"Nope. Rich kid thing. When it got hot, Wayne would sit on the porch with the hose, whoever was around would run through it."

"That sounds more fun than this thing, actually."

"You've been on one?"

"Once. Hated it."

Eddie hums in acknowledgment and stares at the box that's been sitting in someone's attic for twenty years with a sort of longing.

"How much?" you ask.

"It was just a thought," Eddie shrugs, putting the box back on the table. A little orange sticker reads 50¢. You reach over and snatch it before someone else can.

"We're getting it," you say with finality.

You tuck the box under your arm and keep browsing. Eddie ducks his head and grins, following you along the rows of packed tables.

You end up spending close to $10, acquiring a decent amount of records and 8-track tapes for your shared collection, but the crown jewel is Eddie's Slip n' Slide. He's so excited about it, you even set it up while Corroded Coffin practices that afternoon, so they can strip their shirts and cool off afterwards.

You'd angled it down the hill, to give the boys a little extra zoom. You brought the hose out and put it in position. You set up a lawn chair in the shade near the bottom and brought out a magazine, an icy drink, and your camera. For when the boys ended up skidding across the grass. Because every single one of them would ride it down the hill, one after the other, and think they were going to be the one to stop before the slide did. Morons.

The heat is reaching the unbearable point by the time they wrap up practice. You put your magazine down when the music stops. They file out of the garage, already stripped down to their boxers.

The boys stand at the top of the hill and cross their arms, staring at the twenty-five foot long yellow strip in the grass.

"Turn the hose on first, dummies," you call, readying your camera. Gareth scampers to the spigot and turns it on, then runs back to the slide and sprays the hose around until he's sure it's wet enough. They play rock-paper-scissors to determine who goes first. Grant wins. The boys clear the runway, and he takes a runner's stance. He takes off and makes a glorious swan dive…

and skids to a painful stop on his stomach, about three feet in.

"Fuuuuuck!" he groans, rolling over to reveal a red chest and stomach.

A collective "ohhh" comes from the trio.

"It didn't do this last time," Grant whines.

"When was last time?" Jeff asks.

"I don't know, it was some kid's birthday party," Grant grunts as he picks himself up off the yellow plastic.

"You're heavier now," Jeff observes. "It's for kids. We're bigger than kids. We just need more slip so we can slide."

"Like soap?" Gareth asks.

"Baby oil?" Grant suggests.

"Wait!" Eddie yells, running toward the van.

Jeff and Gareth lean in to inspect the red on Grant's chest. It looks painful.

Eddie returns to the group, slathering something across his chest. He squirts some in the other boys' hands, and they all coat their chests, arms, and legs. Oh, boy. They're gonna end up in the neighbor's yard.

Grant takes his position again, and takes off running. This time, his swan dive turns into a graceful slide. He laughs as he zooms down the yellow plastic. When he hits the grass, he goes sideways and rolls down the hill. You, of course, get what you're sure is an amazing photo of it.

"Fuck yeah!" he yells, standing up and raising his arms triumphantly.

Jeff goes next, sliding down the hill with a whoop and landing in a heap in the grass. They high-five and wait for Gareth, who slides down with a "yeeeeeah!" before going sideways and rolling with such force, he knocks down Grant and Jeff. You cackle and snap away, wishing you'd brought a backup roll of film with you.

They help each other up, laughing the whole time, and turn their focus back to Eddie. He looks a little nervous.

"C'mon, man!" Gareth yells.

"You got this, babe!" you encourage him.

He grins and takes off, jumping a little weird and landing a little off-center, but Eddie Munson gets to ride the entirety of the twenty-five foot slide. He pops up in the grass with a loud yell, and your heart bursts with pride. Eddie Munson finally got to ride a Slip n' Slide.

"That was awesome!" he grins, glistening in the sun.

"Let's go again!" Jeff yells.

"Should we reapply the magical slippy slidey stuff?" Grant asks.

"What was that, anyway?" Gareth rubs his hand over his shiny chest, testing to see if it's still slippery.

"Uh…" Eddie looks at you with mischief on his face.

Oh no.

"Yeah, man, that was perfect!" Grant chimes in. "We need a tub of it!"

Oh no.

"What was it?" Jeff asks, looking between you and Eddie suspiciously.

"Lube," Eddie answers.

"What?" all three boys ask.

"Luuube," Eddie repeats, his face twisting into the evilest of grins.

"OH MY GOD!" the three of them shriek at the same time, running up the hill to the hose. They fight over it, trying to wash the remnants off themselves. You take a few more photos from your lawn chair, and Eddie plops down next to you.

"Must you horrify the children, dear?" you ask sweetly.

"Duh," he answers.

You snap a photo of the wicked grin still on his face.

[sanjisblackasswife]

(NSFW) Telling JJK Men You Wanna “Suck Their Dick” (Black Fem! Reader)

A/N: 🧍🏾‍♀️ Idk..you all make such vulgar comments about wanting them to do illegal things to you so why not see how’d they react to you wanting to suck em off

CW: I mean look at the got dang title…

Ft. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, & Choso

Gojo

“Of course you do.”

He laughed at your boldness before patting your head and walking away

“However I have to head to a mission so why not get your mouth ready for when I come back!”

It was almost 2 weeks you didn’t see Gojo after your …little request and you felt a bit of shame.

Granted you were kinda drunk when you asked

You knew Gojo wasn’t the type to let any female sleep with him so you most definitely was not an exception

That was until he knocked on your door at 11pm .

“Sat—“

Pushing you back with sudden kisses to your lips he began to smile on your mouth, his lips were very sweet and soft.

He shuts your front door and begins to unbuckle his pants

“So…did you work your jaw up like I told you?” He ask giggling pulling down his pants

Little did you know your offer was the only thing he had on his mind while he was gone

Toji

“$50.”

“What?!”

“You heard me.”

Mf wants YOU to pay HIM to suck HIS cock.

“No money no dick.”

“But I’m sucking YOUR dick.”

He didn’t care. He had places to be and women to scam if he wanted his dick sucked he’d just go next door or something.

He loved fucking with you though. You guys have had sex in the past and he wanted to always keep your sex life with each other casual but after a few months he actually started to like you, but he couldn’t get himself to do that so fucking with you is just better for his conscience.

Honestly when you offered he was shocked for a second since he is the one to have to make you suck his dick.

“Commonnnnn…. Lemme suck it. I’ll make you dinner.”

He nipped his lip lounging on your sofa with one arm over the couch and the other trying to hide his dick print because you absolutely got him hard being needy to suck him off

“Fine.” He sighed pulling down his pants “but don’t get mad if I use that pretty little throat of yours.”

Toji was truly a dickhead.

Geto

He smirked at you like this^^^^

“You have such a dirty little mouth don’t you…”

Honestly Gojo dared you to ask because he knew you had a crush on him

Geto knew you did

“I..um—“

“Sit on my face first.”

Hold tf on

You had no words to his demand. You felt shy and a little freaked out, was he being for real?

It became real when you seen him grab your hands to straddle you on the couch, he took off his black shirt and guided you upwards with your legs spread over his tatted chest as he laid on his back pulling his hair .

“Well?” He tugged on your bottoms, “Ganna finally grant me the pleasure of eating that pussy for you?”

Nanami

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“I’ll let you angry fuck me.”

“…”

:D

“Maybe.”

Choso

He agrees way too quickly he almost feels embarrassed.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to—“

“No! I do! I Just….”

He grabs your hand to feel the bulge already growing in his pants.

Boy gets hard so easily

“I wanna make you feel good too.”

He’s so precious pls

You both decide 69 was the best option and to be honest it was worth it. His tongue did wonders for you.

Somebody give this boy some pussy pls

[writella]

In the Meadow

So I meant to start + post a Daryl fic (and it’s 50% there, I’ll finish it soon!!) but I was just obsessed with Rick and the reader in their little spot in the meadow in Moments Behind His Eyes, and I wanted to write another story in that setting. I was actually trying to keep it ‘porn, no plot’ lol but then I added a bit of plot, one day I’ll try to keep it super short, I promise!! But what I added is fun.. at least I think lol!! You can read it as a prequel to mbhe or not if you don’t want to picture the age gap dynamic that is in this fic, your choice. c:

Rick x fem!reader, age gap relationship (reader is in her 20s), Alexandria era, smut / 18+ (I marked the area with a heart where it starts and then three hearts when it really starts to get serious), oh and one use of the word “daddy.” This is my second fic and I would love to hear some feedback, so please comment or make an ask on my blog about it or about twd, rick, or daryl related things or literally anything about whatever you’d like— you would make my day. ♡

You hate to admit it, but you still felt uncomfortable having sex with Rick at home. It’s ironic how becoming the woman of the house accidentally made you more promiscuous than you ever were before. You were unbuttoning his shirt and he was taking off your pants under the sun, above the grass, in a meadow— a MEADOW, near water, that literally anyone could walk into.

Well, that was not exactly true. In probability it was— you were outside— but in actuality, almost no one visited this slice of heaven you and Rick called your spot.

“Have you been near the meadow today?” Rick, in this variation or another, would ask on occasion. “I saw a pretty little flower growing there this morning.” His smile was sweet, but you knew better. “It was your favorite color,” there was mischief in his eyes as he shrugged nonchalantly, “reminded me of you.”

It was typical that if he added some detail or new observation about the meadow, whether it was made up or not, that he wanted you. Now.

It was exciting, but also reassuring that you had a place like this to call your own. Having a gorgeous house was a luxury you would never take for granted, but Rick’s house was almost like an hq. You were pretty sure Daryl’s spot was in the garage or basement. You didn’t bother asking if that’s what he considered his room, or rooms, or not. Daryl was always welcomed, no questions asked, and no need for him to get self conscious about his ways— you loved him. And you were also pretty sure he slept outside sometimes, just because it’s what felt natural, or on Carol’s sofa, and who knows where else. He didn’t say and no one asked. And as for everyone else, especially those of the pre-Alexandria group, coming by unannounced, asking Rick questions, or sitting for a cup of coffee was common. You guys even had small meetings there. To say the least, this home wasn’t always a private one, and you did like that, that the place you lived in was a safe meeting area for others, but as your relationship with Rick advanced, slowly moving from this unspoken partnership to a more outwardly romantic one, you enjoyed having an area that felt like no one was watching.

You were a little younger than Rick. Maybe a little too much younger if you asked some. It was only a little more than nearing toward a decade into this new world, yet you still had your before brain. If this was then, you knew there would be family members who absolutely would not approve. He was the father of a teenager after all. But now, with your found family, you were one of the leaders in Alexandria. You were even a part of the group before Alexandria. Searching for a home, out in the wild for what felt like well over half a year. Surviving a hardship like that brings people together, shows them their strengths, their resilience. Everyone was an equal. And you pulled your weight more than you ever imagined of yourself, as both a fighter and friend.

It’s part of what made Rick captivated by you. You were strong, and more than capable of holding your own, but so endearingly kind. You weren’t a natural at anything, but a quick learner well enough who always had interesting stories to tell. Only you could make a seemingly basic tale about how you got lost on your way to a concert sound so entertaining. You still had the beauty of the past in you. You loved to read and write and you missed watching movies, but you never minded retelling what you remembered of the plot from one of the groups favorite films to lighten the mood on another sleepless night where you hadn’t found a home yet. And in the day, when it was time to scavenge or kill the walkers on your trails, you were always prepared to do your part as best as you could. Following example of how to use a gun or your knife. Daryl even taught you how to use his bow, and no one touches his bow. But you liked making a special, intimate connection with everyone, so becoming close to each member came naturally to you. It was individual to you and that person of course— your gentleness and lighthearted charm was truly your own— but in a way, they trusted you like they trusted Rick. Without realizing it was this precisely, he felt an unspoken connection to you because of it.

You felt it too. He always gave credit to his group when it was due, never down playing their strengths or intelligence, so hearing a quick compliment about your ‘good work’ or him placing a hand on your shoulder, patting your back, or that one time he called you a ‘sweet girl’ because of the way you knew how to make Carl smile, wasn’t exactly uncommon— well maybe that last one— but nonetheless it doesn’t mean it didn’t touch the deepest parts of your heart every time you heard or felt it.

Honestly, you found it silly how obsessed you were with the littles things about him. You loved his beard, how his hair remained a rich brown, yet his facial hair was a mix of brown and grey and white, and how he looked stunning with any variation of it. You knew you would take him with it at its longest, but even with none at all. And his eyes, those potently colored blue eyes. The ones that had little crinkles that formed around the corners when he smiled, it made you wonder if that meant he smiled a lot before all of this. Those eyes reminded you of the sky and what could be. The future without fear or as close as you could get to it. You were inspired that someone who had taken control and fought against oppressors, didn’t become one himself. He always remains so deeply loving and even vulnerable at times. He could be untrusting, that’s true, but in the end, he was always ready to accept more people into his life or his community if they showed their humanity.

Thinking about the things you loved about Rick made you excited for a future with him, but then there was Carl whom you loved so deeply. It’s not that things were exactly secret, you knew that was true, but you still wondered how aspects of your relationship with him might change when kisses were openly exchanged at the breakfast table, or how it would look to everyone else if you held Rick’s hand more freely when people were around, maybe it a moment where you felt he needed it to remember you were there in times of stress.

Though it’s not like everyone isn’t aware of the fact that Rick doesn’t talk with, or take the advice of, or even argue at times with others the way he does with you. Rick respected his group, but it was no mystery that he respected you in a way you do with a significant other. Not to mention, you lived in his house for god’s sake; you called it ‘home’ when you referenced it.

You kept teetering with your thoughts, you liked your current home dynamic. You got to be Rick’s partner, everyone’s friend, plus you were also Carl’s confidant. You even liked to write him little stories, knowing how much he loved his old comics from your time at the prison. You’d call them ‘comic books but in word form,’ always handing them over to him excitedly.

“Comics have words,” he’d tease, but he always loved reading them, all of ‘em. He was obsessed. What you would call his ‘little emo boy soul’ would constantly ask if you could write something a little darker, but you couldn’t help but make the endings positive. In truth, writing them was an escape for yourself too. This obviously wasn’t the life you expected to live after all. But you also loved the Grimes’ and you couldn’t picture your life without them now. And you loved that ever since you moved to Alexandria and ever since the original clan started moving to their own respective houses, Rick never asked you to leave and Carl continually asked if you were around.

Your care for him danced over the fine line of being protective of him like a guardian, but always, more likely than not, engaging in conversation with him like an older sister. You liked that he trusted you to tell him things that he felt he couldn’t always casually talk to his father about. As endlessly giving as Rick is as a father, he was also a leader living in the aftermath of an apocalypse— he was a busy guy.

Although you give him the benefit of the doubt, your handsome and strong but obviously oblivious man, has yet to realize or at least acknowledge, that his own son has a girlfriend, or whatever Carl and Enid’s relationship was, you didn’t ask too many questions about the actual definition. From your time with Rick before Alexandria, you understood romantic friendships and blurred lines well enough. But you did know Enid’s favorite color, that she knew how to roller skate, and you even helped Carl make her a bracelet from a box of beads one cute little five year old girl in town lent to him.

-♡-

That’s why as you took quick breaths in between kisses, Rick’s tongue quickly peaking in and out of your mouth as your heads moved left to right and back again, he kissed you once more, slowly humming into the kiss, then letting go to ask, “When are we going to do this in our bed?”

Our bed. That’s the first time you heard him call it that.

Sure, the amount of times you’ve tiptoed to Rick’s door has increased as the weeks have gone by, but you still had your own room. As much as you liked how our bed sounds, is it bad that you still liked how things were? All your books were in there. And you liked when he surprised you in your room too.

“I think at this point you know Carl better than anyone, you don’t think he has eyes?”

“I’d say what we have has been undefined, but not discreet,” you reason. You take a beat, “I just want to be respectful.”

“I’m ready for you,” his words are firm and loving. “I don’t think anyone is going to worry. And if they do, they’re going to have to realize they’ve probably noticed all along.” Then a curious smile appears on his face, “And did we ever know how old Abraham was in comparison to Rosita?”

That made you giggle far too much, but it also surprised you and you could tell by the look on his face, it surprised him too. Rick was kind, and he could be smug, and liked to laugh but he wasn’t the joking type, especially about a lost loved one. It’s one of the first times he’s mentioned Abraham in the context of his life, not his death.

“I’m sure Abraham would have thought that was funny too.” You think for a moment, “Something like, ‘there ain’t enough donuts to choose from in this crumbled up box of life to stick your twinkie into. Beggars can’t be choosers. Fuck the plain or get none.’” You guys both share a look of shock and laughter at your terrible impression. Imperfectly derogatory for sure, but not quite the same as the bizarre but surprisingly understandable verbiage of the charismatic guy you used to know. “Rosita is like a strawberry with sprinkles, or a boston creme though. You know, something special; I was just saying whatever came to my head first,” you explain shyly, eyes away, still giggling.

Rick is hysterically speechless, the most confounding look on his face as he tries to process the fact that that pseudo-Abraham phrase came out of your mouth.

“I just didn’t want you to get sad.” Your voice is tender and sincere.

-♡ ♡ ♡-

He nods, acknowledging the gesture, saying softly, “Silly girl,” his thumb and pointer holding your chin. “My pretty girl.” He pecks you, but his lips go in between yours as he does, it feels so deep for something so quick. “My sweet girl.” Another kiss, and that fire builds in your heart again, you’ll never forget the first time he called you that and you’re never getting over how much you love it. “My sweet baby girl,” his voice is sultry, even though he says it low, it sounds thick and sharp opposed to his lips that feel warm and soft, though his beard scratches up against your skin as he kisses you once more, tongue going into your mouth.

When Rick kisses, it feels immersive. He’s the man who always has the right words to say, so when he can’t speak in a moment like this, all of the conviction he would display verbally, comes out orally by way of how his mouth feel against yours, it’s as if it touches every corner.

Closing your eyes as you lean in, it feels like sunbathing: there is a peace at the feeling of brightness and heat as your eyelids lower. It’s just like how everything about being with Rick feels right. You feel embarrassed to admit you might worship the man. You’d give in to anything he gave you.

You were already in his lap, but now your hips move closer to his own until there is no more space. Your knees are bent and your shoes are flat on the ground, helping you grind against him with more control. You push in, up and down, and his hands are on your lower back, nearing your ass helping you go faster.

Rick catches your lips and your tongues twist into one another. Your arms are over his shoulders, they’re straight and you have your hands crossed over the other. As you continue to rock, one of his hands slowly trails up your back, caressing your neck and then he pushes into your hair. It guides your head exactly the way he wants to kiss you, controlling it, every feeling making you moan into his mouth. Heaven really could be a place and it was your spot, in the meadow, where you and Rick loved and touched exactly how you wanted to.

Rick lets go of you completely and pushes his hands to the ground and slides back as best as he can, moving the two of you closer to a tree to support his back. You both push off your shoes, his shirt was discarded long ago, but now you undo his belt and he’s taking off your shirt.

He’s pulling his boxers down, his hardened cock springs up, and you notice a vein on the side, precum at the tip, you were this close to kissing it but then he pulls your underwear over to the left, not taking it off. You don’t question it because he’s quick with his movements, checking how wet you were with his fingers, despite there being an obviously large wet spot on the fabric, and then he pushes himself in, bottoming out immediately.

Your sigh is angelic, and his groan is guttural, it almost makes you moan again.

You rock against him, this time feeling so full and euphoric. You hadn’t had sex in the before time, but there was that one time where you did lose your virginity to a nice guy back at the prison, and then another time a year later when you decided to try again with someone else. It was fun, but meaningless. You didn’t think you’d be the one night stand type, at least not for your first times, but back then you sometimes felt like everyday was your last day, and as much as you always admired Rick, he was heavy in mourning in the early prison days, and you were trying to be a good friend by keeping your distance, talking to him platonically.

Alexandria was different though, you felt a new hope here. And then there were Rick’s more forward gestures, leading you to follow his new energy, and now you think he has probably ruined everyone else for you, not that there would be anyone else. Who else could there be now that Rick called you his?

You started to pump up and back down, bouncing happily. You were always the kind of person that was so worried about everyone else’s feelings, and as much as you smiled it wasn’t all the time that Rick saw you so carefree. So much so in fact you kept switching from bouncing to rocking, not knowing which you liked best, both feeling so good, “you just feel so big,” you admitted, stretching out the syllables, making him groan again.

It amused him too, laughing lightly as he opened his eyes, watching your face tilt, mouth agape, pants and quiet “ahs” coming out of you. Your eyes were closed, you looked as if you were in an amazing, intoxicating place.

He liked that this was a new way he got to know you that other people didn’t. You never admitted it, but he knew now that sometimes you like being on top. It made him chuckle, just watching you do as you pleased. He liked giving you what you wanted, but now he wanted to speed things up.

“Alright,” he said, kissing you quickly, “my turn.” He pulled you off and almost threw you to the ground. You thought nothing of it, all you did was take off your under garments in anticipation.

He was between your legs now, on his knees, staring at the glistening of your folds that was seeping just a bit at the bottom, the hand on your lower stomach, then your tits, noticing you had discarded your bra— you really were becoming dissolute, weren’t you? But really you were just absolutely drunk on Rick. Finally, he noticed your swollen lips and your teeth that softly bit down on your finger, your eyes entranced by the man above you, the sun creating a halo over his messy curls. “You really are my beautiful girl, aren’t you?”

You shook your head bashfully. “And you’re my handsome man.”

“Oh yeah?”

You hum, you meant it sweetly, but it comes out seductively.

He comes closer, “Does that mean you’re going to let me do exactly what I want?”

“Yes, daddy.” The phrase comes out without thinking, your eyes scrunch, your cheeks are roses, your hands cover your face, but Rick has the widest grin, pushing your hands off to meet your eyes.

“Okay,” he nodded curiously, eyes smiling wickedly now. “If that’s how you see it, baby girl.”

Then suddenly, your head was in between his hands, flat on the grass and he pushes in completely, no stopping. You felt entirely split open. There was no mercy here.

He noticed your eyes and nose scrunching up again at all the pain and pleasure. Your breaths kept coming out as quick and harsh pants, then he watched the tension release as he slowed down, moving his cock in and halfway out a bit, rocking his hips into it. Your pants turned into moaning sighs, and then he switched on you. Totally disrupting the system as he quickened up again. Your mouth opened wide. You tried your best not to shout his name, but nonetheless a loud, “Rick!” came out and your face tightened again.

“Let go,” you were squeezing his arms for dear life at this point, but you listened and released him, reaching for his back. His forearms laid on the grass now so you could put your arms over him. His balls were slapping against you as he went hard and deep, kissing your neck until he couldn’t hold in his grunts and moans that fell directly into your ear. The speed became almost unbearable as he said your name and then he came, but even after he did, his stamina never faltered.

He took your bent leg and placed it over his shoulder, and took the liberty to thumb your clit. Tight circles going fast, fast, fast. But he did make sure to slow down the pace, only a little for you, going in and out saying, “Your turn, pretty girl. You gonna be good for me?”

“Yes,” you said desperately.

You two moaned in unison, thrusting up into each other, until Rick changed the position of his thrusts to curl up inside of you. It makes you drop your leg from his shoulder, digging into his back, “Right there.”

“Yeah, there it is,” he felt you close, he smiled knowing he’s got you exactly where you needed it, “You’re a sweet girl, you know that?” He looked at you when he said it but your eyes were closed. His words alone snapped the knot inside of you and took you over the edge. You felt it everywhere as he pumped vastly once again allowing you to ride your high, hand coming to your jaw, starting to lightly cover your neck as you did so, he did it without thinking and then let go.

Once you came down, he pulled out, putting your underwear and bra back on for you and taking his boxers. He laid flat on his back and pulled you over until you were on top of him.

His arms extended over you, you both laid in peaceful silence for a moment until he said your name, making you look up at him. He took one of his hands to fix your disheveled hair, running his fingers through it lightly. Your eyes doting as your fingers trailed his face in return. You really were his sweet, beautiful girl.

“Tonight,” he started, “After I put Judith down, I’m going to open my door and call out for Carl. I’m going to say goodnight to him and then I want you to come and stand with me by the door. Then you say goodnight too.” He was stern in tone, but gentle in sentiment. “It’s time.”

“Okay,” you responded obediently. “You’re right, it’s time.”

[yugiamaneisdead]

Yugi Amane Isn't Supposed to Live

Other than my False Mystery Hanako theory/AU, I have another. That Yugi Amane's death is a set in stone event. Like think of time as being able to be changed, like by the Clock Keepers, but with certain points that cannot, at least not without disrupting the natural flow of time and events.

I believe Amane's death was one of these events. Everything around it can be changed, but he will be dead at 13. There's something extremely important about the event of his death besides the creation of Hanako, and by changing the timeline to one where Amane never dies, they've avoided something pivotal. Something that cannot and should not be avoided.

And thus, they've caused a rip.

One minute he's there, and then, with no sudden sound, everything has reverted. It's a storage room with no teacher inside. The universe trying to reset itself, to get rid of what is essentially an extreme anom9ly, an impossibility. Amane is supposed to be dead, and his continued and sudden existence rebels against time itself.

Granted, Tsukasa did say the time was 'unstable', and Yashiro says this could be from a past timeline, which I agree with. It's definitely the past timeline leaking into this one. But what's important is what 'unstable' means in this context.

Is it unstable as in multiple timelines can mush together? Or is it unstable because it's able to fix itself with time as it is?

However, it's also important not to put too much weight in Tsukasa's words. Though he doesn't lie very often, he does twist his words and purposefully be misleading, as well as the fact that JSHK is no stranger to having characters just be outright wrong about certain things.

Evidence for this is the fact that upon seeing Amane as a teacher, this is the FIRST TIME any timeline differences have presented themselves. If it were about the festival itself, and nothing else, there would've been more inconsistencies with events. More people appearing and disappearing, more places changing, etc. But there's not. It only happens when Yashiro sees and, noticeably, speaks to Amane.

I believe that what this is, is time itself (personified, for the sake of easier explanation) is attempting to fix the removal of a stationary event. The Clock Keepers removed this unmovable event, and using the time instability, it is perhaps being all focused on fixing Amane's existence. Any existence and interaction with him must be erase, because he should not be alive.

JSHK puts forth the lesson that death is both unavoidable and unchangeable, in the forms of Yashiro's lifespan, Mitsuba's car accident, Hanako's suicide, and Tsukasa's murder. Writing wise, suddenly bringing forth the ability to change people's deaths with time powers would be unwise, and make a lot of the past efforts of characters seem futile.

Also writing wise, JSHK has put so much emphasis on Hanako's death being an unchangeable fact that never doing something with that unchangeable aspect would be a waste.

And lastly, Hanako is, himself, a deeply tragic character. Seemingly destined to die young by countless fates.

If Tsukasa didn't go into the pit, he would be dead before double digits by that sickness. Tsukasa does exist, and there's nothing yet to imply that the sickness was the influence of a supernatural, so Amane would be dead, and there would be no pit to save him. Specifically the entity in that pit was destroyed.

So without the pit and wish to save him, Amane was going to die young anyway. So logically, in a timeline without the pit, he would've been dead much younger than 13, let alone a teacher.

And the ages don't quite line up, do they? He was 13 in 1969, and at current time in the manga, that's over 50 years later. He should not be a 20 something looking adult.

Because of the Clock Keepers interference, they've made several impossibilities, all hinging on the fact that Amane should not live past 13. 13 is, after all, an unlucky number (The Last Supper, 2012 Apacolypse date, the "successful failure" of Apollo 13 one year after Amane's death [another space reference], as well as many people thinking it represents 'death').

His death is, seemingly, far more important than his life, and necessary for time itself.

[littledigits]

directy directory ramble incoming

I wanted to type out my thoughts on the role of director and how its viewed. Especially coming from a perspective of seeing the streaming bubble pop and just..intense scope creep..and yeah , anyway. No reason specifically just my surface level musings that i always have. Its been 5+ years since I went from an animation supervisor to an animation director, to being able to do my own episodes. It wasnt something I wanted in the sense of a title, but I just like taking whatever the next step or challenge is. I've always been team oriented too, so that will always be in the back of my mind when being in a position with more power. The level of power you have as a director is not something I was expecting to have,so I try not to take it for granted.

Over time I really found that there are two viewpoints of what the job and the expectations of the director are. People have asked me for advice on the job and Its through these conversations that I really see the split opinion. The strongest camp is the one that represents the word least to me, and thats the people who think that the director is 'in charge' in the sense of always doing what they say. There are good and bad of course, but the directors job is to make the hard choices and to push boundaries and to enact a VISION (be it their own, a clients, ect). Their expectation soley revolves around the creation of the creative product. The other camp is the one that sees the Director as a leader first and foremost, who has a responsibility to their team as well as the product, and that leadership and team management skills should be on the roster as well as creative prowess. one thinks its about creative vision first and minimal people skills, and the other thinks it should be 50/50 at the very least. I'm in the second camp, and I have so many people that go 'YES, THAT IS WHAT A DIRECTOR SHOULD DO!' and as much as I agree, I also have to point out that is often not the actual reflected expectations that Directors get - expectations play a big role after all. When you enter a job or grow in a job you should know what your new responsibilities are, and if not you are left to fill in your own gaps. Studios in GENERAL are terrible with clear boundaries and job expectations, so its really no surprise that the stronger creative voices become the loudest in the room. Even the most well meaning people can get into an impossible mindset because no one has told them otherwise...we all know passion and creativity can take us places after all. Sometimes, one is thrust into a position of power without even knowing just how much their choices may impact the team. There are some notorious asshole directors of course but for the most part I've found that creatives in the director realm are well meaning. However, that doesnt change the reality that as well-meaning as you are, there is an entire team of people who can be effected by your mindest, choices and problem sovling for good or bad.

I've talked about this before, but a mindset can vastly change how you problem solve something. A director with no leadership skills may see work that does not meet their expectations and their first thought was that the artist did not do their job properly. A director with leadership skills may see work that does not meet their expectations and understand there are many factors. Heres a few questions I ask myself.

did that person receive proper expectations for the task ?

was there a communication mishap ? ( this happens ALL THE TIME. its ART !_! the amount of times i've written a note that i thought was super clear and someone takes it in a way that..i didnt expect but it also made sense ? SOMETIMES IT DO BE THAT WAY. WE WORK ON OUR COMMUNICATION SKILLS TOGETHER)

did they have enough time to do it ? or feel rushed?

is everything ok ? Everyone has bad times and blips in the production so its reasonable that sometimes things come in not 100%

if it is a hard skill issue, is it a one off or is it ongoing? how are we helping them work on it? The answers to these questions are FAR more valuable in actually getting your vision done to the best of your time and energy then just simply thinking someone doesnt have the skills or needs to learn more. ALL OF THIS TO SAY. That even just having good faith and a connection to your team as a director is incredibly valuable for your information gathering and problem solving, (you learn way more about your pipeline and where the real issues are.) but is vastly underrepresented as an expectation of the job. SO. IF YOU WANT TO DIRECT. you may not get told that your team is part of your responsibility, but if we want a sustainable and healthy industry we have to divide our passion for the project into our team as well as the creative end game. Take some leadership classes, learn about different communication types, or at least have people around you who can do that. You dont need to be everyones bestie, but you do have a responsibility for their experience on the project. ill post some tips and such about working with people later cuz this is long enough

[smolsleepyfox]

My current job is listening to tapes with radio programs while they're being recorded in an audio program. They're being digitized before the tapes themselves are destroyed so they need to be sure the recordings are intact. The oldest tape I had was from 1956, just after the broadcasting company I work at became independent.

Most spoken word programs I've been listening to are from the late 90s and early 2000s, from the time I was technically alive but blissfully unaware of what was going on in the world. Some things I've learned so far:

There are a lot of topics, especially political, that sound like they could be from this week said in somewhat outdated language. It's alarming how much hasn't changed in over 20 years.

The other lot of things sound completely incredible, because it's hard to fathom that that was considered normal back then. So much has changed and improved in the last twenty years.

It took a while to get used to hearing and converting the old currency.

I am being reminded daily that I am dogshit at remembering the historical heads of state in my country, let alone knowing what they did.

It's interesting to hear technical innovation we take for granted discussed as new. There's also a lot of bad ideas lol

The food report program also offers weekly recipes over the air. At the end they give an address you can send a return envelope to if you want the recipe and couldn't write it down. The later programs just barely start offering the internet as an alternative

I can't tell you if it's just this one person or early 2000s dieticians in general but a solid 9/10 of those recipes I wouldn't want to be in the same room as. For a hot summer day they offered a kefir-herb-fizzy water drink as an alternative to lemonade. Whatever she's smoking, I want some.

Very interesting to compare early 2000s food advice to today. I read an article this morning saying you shouldn't eat carbs because they can increase inflammation. A program I listened to from 2000 just went "bread is good for you" with no more nuance. I've heard about 50 different tips for healthy eating against my will and they all contradict each other.

Fun to see how cutting choices based on the material translate into the show. Quite literally, because I can hear the little ksk sound of the scotch tape where a cut was made.

It is so satisfying being able to push a big fat button and make the machine go ka-THUNK when it starts playing.

[godlike-enigma]

°•*⁀➷ INTRODUCING MYSELF ! ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

bani ☆ she/her ☆ entp 5w4 ☆ minor (𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗹𝘆 18+ 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘀 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝗺𝗲) // side blog: @ilubeau

HI GUYS !! i post daydreaming-related stuff here but it's also kind of a mix of everything, i'll also post anime related stuff, i'll never really stick to just one thing but what i CAN tell you i'll be sticking to is my centrecosm mostly (my main paracosm, i'm staying loyal to the one i've been building for the past 4 years) it's also a blanket paracosm so there's loads of subcosms inside it but at the end of the day it's linear and takes place chronologically.

i have a few paracosms here and there so that's why i call myself a paracosmist but really and all they'll never compare to my main one. ಠ_ಠ

❤︎ this is a safe place for all madders (ง'̀-'́)ง, i really wanna make friends that are passionate with opening up about their little daydreaming worlds, i'll listen to you yap about it all day long.

PLEASE DO SEND QUESTIONS ABOUT MY PARACOSM(S) OR ABOUT YOURS !! i'll always reply ^-^

MY CENTRECOSM ✧

i have 60 paras (characters). yes. you heard that right. SIXTY. i have a whole pinterest board on it and i update it regularly -

https://pin.it/4Yvd42Asm

also yeah i'm a microcelebrity on pinterest idk if you've seen me around but yeah wtvr 😭😭 ALRIGHT LEMME GIVE YOU GUYS A LIL SYNOPSIS ! (i've never done one it's kinda scary)

my paracosm consists of 50 Gods, 4 archdemons, 4 archangels and God themself (God doesn't have a gender) and 5 monotheistic Gods, my paracosm has its own lore of different mythologies. greek, norse, and egyptian mythology. fiction has no limits, so i can bend it to fit my desires, i LOOOOOVE mythologies of all kinds, so i made my own lore using the names you see on the pinterest board. all of the Gods have the same power and no ones more powerful than each other except for God and Satan. the Gods are the most beautiful, ethereal, alluring individuals in heaven. Satan made it so that whenever someone who is not a God sees a God's appearance, they physically feel like they can't say anything. this is to prevent any romantic relationships. so whenever, for example, a human who is granted permission sees them, obviously, their initial reaction would be shock and the need to compliment them. right when they're about to do that, they start to feel choked up like they can't get the words out. it'll go on like that until they give up. the gods have noticed that a lot of the time when they show their selves to other people and they start reacting like that.. they start thinking its because they're ugly or something. LMFAOO, they'll be like "damn i'm THAT ugly???" and its so ironic bc they're actually trying to tell them they're more than beautiful, but they CAN'T because of Satan. he has a lot of unreasonable rules, and the Gods just put up with it because they appointed him as the leader whilst God is gone, so they kind of did to themselves... to put it in a nutshell, the Gods have never been complimented. like. ever. so 😭 its only factual that they'd feel like they're the ugliest individual alive. Satan is currently acting as the overseer of the Gods whilst God is away, so he gets to do whatever he wants to. the Gods are the main characters, the archdemons and archangels are side characters, Satan is the antagonist, and God is... mysterious. they don't pop up. ever. so the Gods just assume they don't like them. i can go on and on about this, but i feel like i'm yapping too much ... this isn't even 0000.5% of the story. sorry, guys, this is a really bad summary, but trust me, you'll find out more about it if you follow through with my posts 🙏🏽

tags i'll use (＞﹏＜) :

#𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗱 -> posts that are not daydreaming-related

#𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗶'𝘀 𝘆𝗮𝗽 𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 -> original posts

#𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗱 𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘁 -> vents about madd

#𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗯𝘆𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗶 -> art i make about my paracosm or anime and stuff

[sabo-has-my-heart]

hiieee i LOVE ur ace stories :3 do you think you could please write an ace x gn!reader where the reader is nervous about their body image, especially when it comes to how much they eat. maybe they're jealous that ace can eat whatever he wants and still look super hot and lean. and ace reassures them that he loves them no matter how they look. thank youuu <333

I'm so glad you like my Ace stories. It's so sad that people don't have good body image, even if they're healthy or look great. That being said, I don't specify what size that they are only that they 'feel chubby' and that they're not super muscular (who is?).

Warnings: GN!Reader

Word Count:1370 

     Looking down at the food in front of you, you tried your best to hold yourself back. You’d been trying to cut back on how much you eat, tried working out to work on how you looked, but it didn’t seem to be helping much. Glancing over, you watched your boyfriend demolishing a large piece of meat, 2 helpings of pasta, a bowl of rice, and something that looked like it had once been a vegetable before Ace got to it. You, on the other hand, had barely touched the diet food you’d asked Thatch for and knew you were already gaining 10 pounds. Sometimes you hated your boyfriend, or more specifically, you hated how he could eat 50 pounds of food and come out 20 pounds lighter! His body always looked like it had been sculpted from marble, arms, chest, and abs that were to die for. Muscles that rippled and could lift just about anything, the way his body glistened with sweat under the hot sun, the light bouncing off every dip and curve of his glorious body. 

     Whereas you, on the other hand, swore you’d been a child’s clay project that had turned into the lumpy form of a human. Looking in the mirror, all you ever saw was the chub on your sides, the pudge in your stomach, and how thick your thighs were. You were strong, you knew that, you were strong and capable, perhaps not as strong as one of the division commanders, but you could certainly hold your own. At first you’d figured you just needed to work out more, after all, a lot of the well muscled guys on the Moby Dick did a lot of hard work. So you worked hard, trained… and lost 5 pounds. Alright, well maybe it was how much you ate and what you ate. Thatch was a great cook, how could you not want to eat his cooking? So you’d tried cutting back and tried dieting… you hadn’t even lost 5 pounds and were constantly hungry. How was it that Ace could eat whatever he wanted, sleep 10 hours a day, goof off, and still be shredded as fuck?! 

     Ace glanced over at you, picking at your food. You looked miserable and he knew why. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Thatch’s diet food, Thatch was a great cook, it was that you were in a slump about how you looked. Ace put on a sympathetic smile as he put a hand on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze, drawing you out of your thoughts.

     “You know, you look stunning in this light.” Ace said, nuzzling the top of your head. It was technically true, you looked stunning in the light, but then, you looked stunning in any light. Despite how you felt about your looks, he couldn’t help but think you looked like the most dazzling person on earth. Granted, even if you didn’t look great, he’d still love you, he didn’t love you for your looks, he loved you because of who you were. Your looks were just a bonus. You smiled at him, giving him a kiss on the cheek before eating your food, your mood picking up as you took his hand, holding it as you ate. Glancing back over at you, he wondered if he could get you to raid the kitchen with him. While he might know and understand how you felt about your body and weight, he missed raiding the fridge with you, missed eating everything together, and missed enjoying everything you ate together. To be completely honest, your love of food was one of the things that had first attracted him to you, you could both just sit there and enjoy what you were eating and talk about how great it was. He’d still support you if you wanted to work on your body image and do whatever he could to help, he was never worried about what you looked like. In fact, if anything, he loved the way you were. The ‘pudge’ that you worried about being on your stomach was soft, huggable and a great pillow. The thighs that you fretted were ‘too big’, allowed his fingers to sink in the perfect amount when he picked you up. The ‘chub’ on your sides that troubled you constantly was just right for cuddling at night when he’d nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck. Hell, even if you were on the chubbier side, it’s not like you were unhealthy or anything. In fact, if anything, Marco had said you were one of the healthier members of the crew.

     Ace smiled as you wrapped his arms around you from behind, his head resting on your shoulder as you two sat on his bed.

     “You’re absolutely amazing, you know that?” Ace muttered, squeezing you a little tighter. This was one of the things he loved most about your body. You couldn’t really squeeze muscles. You either held a muscular person loosely or you held them tight and couldn’t give them good, loving squeezes. With you, he could hold you close, his arms wrapped comfortably around you, not tight but not loose, but he could pull you closer, tighten his hold, and envelop you in his warm embrace.

     “I… I don’t understand how you can think that.” you said with a sigh, even as you nuzzled your head against his.

     “I think it because it’s true. You’re kind, loving, sweet, beautiful. What other word could I use for you besides ‘amazing’?” he asked, placing a soft kiss against your shoulder.

     “Chubby, overweight, plump, gluttono-ow!” you glared at him, as he pinched your arm.

     “First of all, you’re none of those things! Just because you’re not particularly muscular, doesn’t mean you aren’t the most attractive person on the planet. Secondly, you’re not chubby or anything, you’re perfect. And thirdly! Even if you were those things, I didn’t start loving you and dating you because of your looks! I love you no matter what you look like.” Ace said sternly, putting a hand on your cheek and making you face him, “I’ll always love you for you, for your heart. You could become the most hideous, fattest person on the planet and I’d still love you and think you were amazing. So stop saying that shit and come raid the kitchen with me.” he said, giving you a sweet, gentle kiss. You couldn’t help but smile at him as you nodded. To be honest, you were still pretty hungry and you hadn’t raided the kitchen together in quite a while.

[funkii-fox]

Yandere Keicho Headcanons!

God rest yandere-lovebites 🙏🕊️ i tried to emulate her keicho portrayal but with some of my own ideas mixed in

I think this would start out as a bully situation. Keicho Nijimura, known throughout the school as unfriendly, but fortunately keeps to himself. Over time however, you find yourself to be the unfortunate object of his attention. The elder Nijimura would randomly exercise his authority over you in any way he could, usually in terms of intelligence and critiquing every mistake. “How do you get this wrong? Come on, I could do this with my eyes closed.” He lectures you like you’re a child.

Whether or not you want to continue interacting with him, it will get worse. He actively seeks you out to degrade you. It changed into being about school work and being “constructive” to more personal things and plain rude. His extravagant vocabulary and long, complex sentences add an extra sting, only proving your inferiority. But of course, they’re just words. “Stop being dramatic. It’s criticism. Ever heard of it?”

Overtime, he starts incorporating physical pain into his bully regime. From a harsh grip on your wrist, to tripping you “on accident”. He pushed you down the stairs one day, and thats when you knew he’s gone too far. It’s too late, however. Now, you’ve proven that you will not be successful in ever standing up to him. Now, you’re his little stress relief toy to play with however he sees fit.

I think he loves both micromanaging everything you do, but also hates how dependent you are. An oxymoron of a man, truly. Probably doesn’t know what he actually wants himself. He loves seeing you be so pathetic, you can’t even care for yourself. It makes him feel needed; you can never escape him because you need him for xyz. But at the same time, he’s overrun with responsibilities and is permanently burnt out. It pisses him off when you need his help with everything. “Really? Are you that incompetent?” Reminds him a lot of his idiot little brother… but at the same time, he would feel as if you don’t appreciate him if you didn’t go to him every time you need something.

Very idealistic in his ideas of you and him. He wants you to be this and this and this and that. But at the same time, he’s incredibly nit picky with all your actions. His vision of both of you is shattered the second you don’t do this and this and this and that the exact way he wanted. And that’s what leads to so much friction. “If only they would do exactly as I wanted.”

He loves watching you cry. You look so pathetic (affectionately) with pretty tears streaming down your face. If he’s being honest, it even turns him on a little bit. Some days he loves watching you cry so much, he goes down to your face and licks them off your skin with his gross, slimy tongue and gives you faux sympathy. “Ohh, poor thing. You just can’t help but cry. You’re so helpless, it’s all you can do~” He coos at you in a strangely soft tone and tender thumb rubs on your cheek. 50% of the time, this turns into rape. Count your lucky stars that your crying doesn’t give him a boner.

But then, if you try to keep yourself from crying he gets upset. He would punish you for not granting him the satisfaction of your tears. It’s a form of disobedience to him, and that won’t slide at all. “You’re only hurting yourself, you know. I’m only doing this to get the reaction I want. And I always get what I want.”

But at the same time if you’re too excessive with your tears, it pisses him off. I can only imagine it’s confusing for his poor victim, since the criteria for what’s too much changes depending on his mood. Other days, he yells at you for the slightest lip quiver, “There will be none of that! Absolutely none! Stop being pathetic.” You better wipe those tears away before u get spanked with the nearest object :/ “I’ll give you something to cry about!”

He makes it a point to show that there’s a difference between discipline and one of his sadistic moments. He will flog you no matter what you do, but if you’re good, he will do it with one of his 3 belts instead of a stiff cane that leaves deep, aching bruises or sharp wires that cut through your skin :)

Keicho would kidnap his victim eventually. But he’s ✨ meticulous ✨, he wouldn’t want you to ever escape. So he spends a very long time to develop a full proof enclosure for you. He really thinks of all the possible escape routes and develops intricate plans to keep you caged.

I think he would want it to be in the countryside or deep in the woods; anything can go down there and not a single person would know. He doesn’t want a SINGLE road to his house: only barely defined dirt path at the least. He would make sure it has sturdy infrastructure, no amount of pounding will make this wall fold. Most of the windows would be completely removed and turned into normal walls. Only the remainder windows will be reinforced with the toughest glass and he will put one way film over it so no one sees what goes on inside. NO tools; they’re all locked away and you need a good reason to use one. Even then, he will supervise you while using them and takes it away as soon as you’re done. Only one door in the entire house and it would be heavy iron with a million locks. Just incase all that doesn’t work, he would have traps set outside that would injure you upon being set off. The traps are also there for any prying eyes that are curious about what the man has in the house; that’ll teach ‘em!

Speaking of which, he would be beyond pissed off if you even tried to escape. It’s a rampage when he catches you. Incomprehensible shouts blasted at you, his face beat red and spit flying. Whatever happened after that is a mystery as you get knocked out at the first punch. It must’ve been horrible though, as when you wake up your aching body is littered with bruises and bandages, and you had no feet.

I could see him going to great lengths to punishing you. He will amputate your feet above the ankle so you won’t even be able to walk without help. Nipping the bud of that ugly flower before it even blooms; you will never leave and he makes damn sure of that. “If only you behaved, you would be able to walk.” He would mock you. I could even see him even keeping your feet preserved as a reminder to behave. For at least a month afterwards, your food would be significantly less, maybe even none at all for the first week. He also puts a microchip under your skin, as if you’re a dog; as if you could walk away to the nearest town that’s kilometers away on stubs for feet. If you struggle anymore, he will disable you further however he sees fit.

I also feel like some of the motivation for kidnapping you is protection. He’s given so many bad people stands and many more have died because of him, both directly and indirectly. It’s definitely not impossible for a stand user to attack him, as shown with the Akira incident, but that would be fine. Keicho is strong and level headed; he could handle himself in a fight. But what if he’s not there to protect you? You would be dead in the blink of an eye! Keicho’s mind runs wild with the thought of Akira spouting from an outlet and zapping you dead with his electric dinosaur. You’re just so helpless, he HAS to do this. “All this is for you, if only you saw that.”

He won’t even CONSIDER giving you a stand. “What if they die from the arrow? What if their stand is more powerful than mine, how would I control them?” So many things could go wrong, he’d rather not. Although, he doesn’t keep you in the dark about stands. At first you thought he was schizophrenic, but those tiny bullet holes left on the walls every time you misbehave are proof enough that these spirits are real.

He will call upon Okuyasu to supervise you if he can’t. But you know, that blockhead of a brother can’t do much. Not just that, but Keicho gets jealous. Not that he thinks that Okuyasu would try to get with you, but he just hates the idea of Okuyasu being near you. “Okuyasu doesn’t deserve to be in their presence!” Keicho only assigns supervision as a last option.

VERY awkward between you and Okuyasu. Okuyasu really wants nothing to do with this. “Holy shit! My brother has gone too far!” He thinks as he gawks at all your wounds. But he knows if he refuses or even, god forbid, lets you escape, there will be hell to pay. So he’s as nice as possible to you and just leaves you alone. “Call me if you need anything.” He tells you while awkwardly shifting his puny pupils away from yours.

It’s not like you’re tied up and locked away with nothing to do! He has books for you to read and DVDs of movies to watch. He would even get you specific DVDs/ books you want if you’ve been behaving well. He also routinely supplies picture puzzles and coloring books

Keicho wants to love you tenderly, but it’s hard. He doesn’t really know how. How can he give love if he’s never received loved? I think he’s the softest he will ever be when the two of you are coexisting peacefully. He’s reading a book, and you’re watching something on a beaten up tv from the trash. Both on the couch, not straight up cuddling, but very close together. Maybe hands intertwined. Maybe your head on his broad shoulders. Butterflies flutter in his stomach and, if you looked at him, his face would be a soft shade of pink. He’s so shy when it comes to loving touches, that’s the most he will go in terms of affection. It’s absurd to think about, really. This guy took your freedom away, forces himself on you, and beats you black and blue, but he’s shy when it comes to kisses and cuddles.

He gives you loving kisses sometimes, but rarely. It’s always a quick peck, as he’s too shy to do anymore. It’s also usually when you behave well; he has to reward you in some way. It’s a way to say “See, I’m not horrible! I could be nice.” He could see himself getting comfortable with you, if only you trusted him. If only you just submitted to his abuse, the world would be a better place. There’s no chance you can leave, so might as well?

The only other time he kisses you is when he forces himself on you. These kisses are deep and suffocating. So much tongue shoved in your mouth, it’s like a slimy snake writhing in its burrow.

He likes to give long lectures about authority, submission, and dominance to try to cement in your brain to submit. “You’re supposed to submit to authority. The authority is the most dominant.” He sees all your little rebellions and tantrums as “trying to become dominant.” Again, stomp that ugly bud into the ground so it will never blossom; only in your dreams will you have any power over him!

He gets rare moments of regret. “You’re just like your father,” he thinks to himself, “no, you’re even worse than him.” The only time he ever cries. It’s nearly silent as his broad shoulders jerk and pathetic little sobs leave him. He avoids you. It’s too painful to see what he’s done to you; bruises and scars litter your skin, all done by his hands. But his attitude will change by the next hour, back to being an unforgiving tyrant

[lyra-brie]

Reddit does this thing where they try to crash a charity site by donating too much once a year

TL;DR: here's a super cool charity that gives gifts to foster kids, donate if you can or reblog to signal boost.

The charity is One Simple Wish, where you send money to pay for things for kids in foster care. There are over 500 thousand kids in foster care each year just in the United States, and 22 thousand of those kids will age out alone without stable conditions and with little resources and knowledge to survive.

One Simple Wish helps by allowing you to grant a wish for a foster kid or former foster youth, which could be anything from a new pair of shoes for Christmas to helping former foster youth stock their pantries to bed frames and bikes. And you get to leave them a note that shows how much you care. A lot of these are expensive though, so you also have the option of donating any amount of money you're able to directly to the charity.

Are we going to let Reddit be better at this than us? Sure, we can be known as the site that creates a fandom for a nonexistent movie. That's awesome, and I love it. But we could also be known as the site that was better than reddit at breaking this charity's website by donating so much their servers were overloaded.

This doesn't mean we have to grant every wish possible and spend hundreds of dollars each. If we all rally together, giving whatever we can, even if that's only two or three dollars for you, we can do this. And if you can't give anything, that's fine, too. Reblog and boost this post. Tell your friends. Spread the word.

Most of these kids just want something special for Christmas because they don't have much. Can we help them get that?

And if for whatever reason, you don't want to donate to them, my next reccomendation is @sharonsaysso on insta. She's holding her holiday giving drive, where her followers have donated over 500 thousand dollars to help people in need over the past few days. Her community over there is wonderful, too. Her drive is only lasting a few more days, though, so you have to donate fast for hers.

So what do you say guys? Can we work together one step at a time to make the world a little bit better (and to beat reddit at this)? Click here to go donate or grant a wish.

If you do end up donating, feel free to reblog this or make your own post and tag me, so we can all celebrate each other's contributions, no matter how big or small. So far, I've granted a $100 wish for a kid named Haley to get a hoverboard for Christmas and $50 a few days ago for Sharon.

[mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea]

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

From "Too weird to live, too rare to die" - a Loki/Justin Hammer one shot, post-Endgame, canon divergent, everyone lives, yes there are several quotes from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas used because of reasons, and yes, I'm sharing more than a paragraph since so much of it is dialogue.

Tony let out a breath he’d been holding once it was all in the crust, and while Justin took it over to the sink to start washing up all the dishes stacked there, he went about placing the stars and crescent moons all over the top of the filling. 

“Thanks,” he replied first, having to remember that just because Justin was stuck there, and they were stuck with Justin, it didn’t mean he could just take the guy for granted.  “As far as Loki and Nat went, well, he couldn’t say anything right at first.  The guy’s vocal chords and windpipe had been damaged.  Bruce thought it was beyond repair at first and was surprised Loki was even still alive, but...Jotun constitution and healing and all that.” 

“So he pretty much just had to take it, huh?” Justin asked, giving some thought to the other ex-villain living under the Roof of Stark.  Or he guessed it was Roof of Avengers since Tony didn’t consider this rebuild his and only his home anymore.  Justin would’ve never pictured Tony as a guy who liked roommates – other than maybe Rhodes – but the guy seemed pretty content to have a house full of people, and that wasn’t even counting the others that would come and go like that gang that called themselves the Guardians.  Or even random Asgardians popping in to visit their princes. 

Thanks for the second ask!

Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game

[sapphiregrace1224]

This isn’t even a surprise anymore but the Genshin Impact community is just….a cesspool. While it’s not everyone, it’s still pretty disturbing to see how many people practically have their lives centered around this game. Some times seeing the things people say and do in this community is extremely similar to a cult mindset.

And no, I’m not talking about the Natlan boycott or the SAG-AFTRA boycott either. It’s a fact that of course over time media shifted away from the genocide in Palestine especially when America is allied with Israel. I still get plenty of real time updates of what’s been happening over there, just recently there was a video where Israeli settlers attacked a school.

Now Genshin is having another collab with McDonald’s again in America which everyone is participating in because of those oh so exclusive wings we saw apart of the KFC event with Lyney and Lynette. I myself wanted them too and hoped they would’ve been at the KFC’s in America some day or at least given out as a code for players to collect.

But no. They chose McDonald’s who has actively been funding the genocide. The genocide that others seemed to have forgotten. The genocide that they dare to say isn’t real when people—even those who play Genshin have been directly affected by. Human lives aren’t political. That person who let you into their world to farm for materials likely isn’t here anymore or stopped playing due to worrying over loved ones who are still trapped.

Many civilians lost their lives and many are still at risk. It seems that people in the Genshin community aren’t human because they have no empathy or humanity. They don’t care about anything or anyone except for themselves. They don’t care about the VAs who work their asses off for this game. They don’t care if the money they put into a collab funds a genocide that also affects people within their community. They don’t any shame, humility, or a single brain cell to process half of the racist, bigoted, and disgusting words that come out of their mouth to think “Is this really okay to say?”

They don’t care about actual people but god forbid Hoyo or someone messes with a video game character. No, they will actually physically harm someone over a video game character. That’s not even an exaggeration, that’s already happened before when someone attempted to harm someone from Hoyo (You all know who) after the Honkai Impact Bunny Girl incident.

They care more about some big breasted anime character that they would sell their own mother just to C6 that character. While some of us have crappy moms, trading human life for something that won’t even last long is just embarrassing. If you want to say I’m complaining, okay Jan whatever makes you feel better about yourself. You complain, I complain, we all complain, but there’s a limit of how much bull a sane person can take. I’m stuck in the middle of an election watching two idiots trying to out-idiot the other. I’ve invested money into this game before, I’ve enjoyed the game but I’m not selling my humanity for a game that’s not even going to last forever.

Do whatever you want with the games but for the love of whoever the heck you believe in—look in the damn mirror. Saying “Get help” and “Touch grass” is overdone to death at this point, remember that you are a human being with only ONE life. Anything can happen to where you’re laughing or screaming from losing your 50/50 to Qiqi to being bombed the next second.

You have a life outside of this game. If you have no friends or family, that’s okay—it sucks but that doesn’t mean life is over. While so much crap is happening, so many things are leaving this world. Things and people that we took for granted.

Enjoy the game, but don’t forget that you are human being with one life.

None of us are ever getting Isekai’d anytime soon so make the most with what you have left.