#he got so much crap and yet

[sabotourist]

You know I was talking with my friend a while back and in light of restoration... Can we just talk about how good Doc is? How, in s15, when the others retired, he went on to find other ways to help. How he has failed over and over, gotten shit on over and over, gotten his mind fucked with over and over, and yet that man never stopped trying to help people?

Even at the very end.

[mishy-mashy]

Do you think Banjo is the type of person who hides his problems behind a clown mask?

The guy acts like a bit of comedy relief, but I think he's the kind of person to face his problems head-on. I don't think he uses humor as a coping mechanism. We never see him do that for himself. He's just a loud guy

Look at how he first appears to Midoriya

He's loud, and it steals Midoriya's attention. But he's calling him out on why he's messing up

But as a character's debut, the first things he does are:

Call out Midoriya for trying to do things alone, when Yoichi's first message to him was that he wasn't

Tell him that if he can compose himself, things typically work out

Understands Midoriya's side of things, and tells him he knows (like lacking a mouth)

And once he says those two previous things, he exhales, and his eyes show their pupils properly

The parting advice he gives Midoriya is a reiteration of the second point: It's okay to be mad. What's important is controlling your heart.

Blackwhip is a Quirk that responds to the holder's emotions. Like other Quirks, but Blackwhip goes out of control when the user isn't able to get a grip on themselves

Banjo used his Quirk effectively. He'd have to live that advice to pass it on to Midoriya, back when Abilities were starting to become normal, but Japan was still wrecked. And we know that Quirks are influenced by, and influence, the holder's personality.

Banjo would have to be able to be honest with himself, understand his emotions, and has the maturity to say it's okay to be mad. Just control it.

When he said that for the first time, it actually surprised me. Everyone in fiction or reality says "Don't be mad", but a character on his debut and says it's okay to be that. I never heard anyone say that controlling your emotions and outputting them in a healthy manner is what matters. People just say not to he negative or annoying, because it's inconvenient; but Banjo went past that.

And when he fades, he tells Midoriya he's got this. He reminds him that they're all behind him.

Whenever he speaks, he doesn't make the receiver feel bad, or speak down to them. He understands them, and gives the next step in a familiar, friendly way.

On his debut, he told Midoriya to control his heart, and to remember he wasn't alone. Here, he tells him he should try understanding their Quirks better.

He's actually got a mature way of seeing things. He's an adult, and being the holder between Shinomori and En, he wouldn't be able to deal with either of them if he wasn't mature about himself. Shinomori probably wouldn't choose someone who can't be honest with himself upfront, after spending almost half his life for OFA. And En is young, prone to panic, and a guy who acts like his problems aren't there or funny wouldn't help that.

I can visualize Banjo sitting at a small fire with Shinomori, having an honest, calm talk about life (until Shinomori says the wrong thing and Banjo yells something about it). But not Banjo trying to push his problems down with a hearty laugh, and Shinomori being okay with that.

When Midoriya used his Quirk for the first time, Banjo did get loud at the start, but he did lecture him in a way that was kinda teacher-mentor-ish.

I actually like the way Banjo talks about his observances. He's got the demeanor of a good teacher, he's clear, and direct. He's light-hearted about serious things, but doesn't diminish them. He just approaches it in a way that you aren't feeling the pressure, and can feel like it's possible.

He seems to have this habit of being loud to get people's attention, and simmers down once he has it. He's never indirect or leaving the addressed to figure out the answer on their own, he gives it outright.

When Midoriya used Blackwhip for the first time, Banjo was all "You got it all wrong!" and then explained things. Since he felt himself fading, he could've been talking louder to compensate himself past the daze he felt. To make sure he was talking, heard, and to keep himself awake

When the first Three made the void silent because Kudo and Bruce didn't want to help, Banjo broke it with what Midoriya should do next

When Shinomori got yoinked, the first thing Banjo did was report it in a panic to Midoriya. This just tells Midoriya he really has to be careful now, because OFA can really be stolen. Even if Banjo just panics and doesn't say that aloud

Every time Banjo is facing some kind of problem, he doesn't let others panic too hard. He's not pressuring about problems, and steps back to let Midoriya figure things out.

When Midoriya was running himself into the ground, Banjo was one of the vestiges that didn't show up to tell him to rest. He already understood how Midoriya saw things, and was doing them his own way

Rather than trying to be a clown, I think Banjo is just a friendly person. He's honest with others and with himself, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to utilize Blackwhip right, or be the holder between a sagey hermit and young, scared adult.

[dutybcrne]

Kaeya and Albedo both have a knack for vocal mimicry, though Kaeya is personally far better at mimicking people, animals, and Abyssal creatures, while Albedo can mimic the sound of damn near anything with such startling accuracy, Kaeya sometimes will try and bribe him to come along and terrify the crap out of people-

[fingertipsmp3]

Like, moving to a big city in September 2020 only to be locked in a house with 4 strangers and basically never see the light of day for nine months was 1) a terrible experience overall and 2) not a bad setup for a horror series of some sort, but also I am nostalgic for a few things from that time

[indiegame]

today was. good. yeah. needed that.

[evilminji]

You think the Zone has its version of Comic Con?

Like? Think about it. You have literally all of time to work on it, your Magnum Opus, your life's work. That DREAM comic. All the supplies you could ever wish for. Endless paper. Endless ink. You can practice and practice for CENTURIES until it's JUST right.

Wouldn't you want to share it?

There are definitely Ghosts who have Obsessions that make them collect.

And two people meeting would lead to a group. Lead to a bigger group. Lead to a large group. A gathering. A crowd even. Eventually you need a Lair to meet IN. It becomes An Event.

People hear about it.

Want to bring other art mediums. Food stalls. Report on it. It grows. Shoot offs start happening. Niche meet ups.

But like?

Unlike comic con? It's all FREE. Sure, you might have fork over the ecto to make your copy. And yeah, weaker ghosts can only do that so many times. Will have to prioritize. But? They can come back after leaving for a nap. Ask a buddy to come with. There ARE work arounds.

Just? Imagine the unbelievable HIPE? Danny would feel? But be unable to TELL anyone about? Zone Con happens several times a year! Cause so many people wanna come. The Zone being infinite, after all.

Problem 1? They're using THEIR standard of a "year". Which is actual 5 earth years. So it's only happens every year and a half for him. And Problem 2? He can't even TALK about how excited he is about Z Con with anyone (outside his friends and family) because they haven't heard of it and might Ask Questions.

It's ALSO held in a part of the Zone that's like? Three days of flying away from the portal. And no amount of begging is gonna get any of his loved ones to camp in the Speeder for around six-ish days just to go to a Con.

So you can imagine his DELIGHT. His utter JOY and *Target Spotted* "!!!" Noise, when? In the crowd? He spots A HUMAN! Hi fellow human!!! Omg, wanna be Con Besties? *doesn't even wait for an answer*

So now? This sad, blonde, deeply lost and kinda alarmed, trench coat dude? Is Danny's new Z Con Going Bestie! You got a map yet, bestie? No? That's cool, he has one. By the way, he has human food in the Speeder if you nee-

YES!

Cause, see, here's the THING. John? Lost to the Realms Infinte. Or Infinte Realms. Translation was iffy... and on fire... like the rest of the building. It was him or the kids those psychos had kidnapped, for what fucked "ritual" the voices in their heads, that THEY thought were demons but frankly he's pretty sure was just feedback from-

Look, doesn't matter, he had to choose. He always knew someday he'd have too. That even twisting Luck and talking fast wouldn't quite be enough. And he had to decide, in that moment, which outcome mattered more to him. They get out safe, or he does.

Wasn't much of a question, was it?

So, there he is. Staring down oblivion and all those debts unpaid. 'Bout to see who's gonna come for him this time, and take what left of wretched soul. When? He bleeds on the FUCKIN two-bit crap circle they squiggled in God only knows what. Remembers that "oh YEAH, set dressings!" Sometimes when you focus too hard on insuring a Good Outcome?

You weird weird as shit byproducts happening on the side to balance it all out.

Or BAD ones.

He wakes up someone fucking green and crowded. For the life of him can't tell you which one it is. And THAT was of course, bout two days ago.

Biggest and most immediate problem? He... does NOT recognize what flavor of magical fuckery this is. Doesn't seem Fae. And doesn't smell like Hell. There are... there are honest to God BOOTH BABES hanging around. Hunks too. The view is LOVELY.

And nerdy.

Very, very nerdy.

But he isn't THAT out of touch. So he should recognize SOMETHING. Or at least the languages. But nope! It's like aliens and magic had a nerd baby and dipped it in GREEN. And the worst thing? Is there is food everywhere, but it all glows and John's not stupid enough to eat it.

Then? Sweet merciful fuck. Salvation! Some teeny bopper Barely No Longer Teen fresh faced INFANT of a Hero kid. With a SHIP. Who has FOOD and a clear idea of where they are. Hello~ John's new BEST FRIEND. Yes. Absolutely. Con Buddies, whatever.

Just feed me, kid.

Only? Once he inhales like 5 "Fenton rations"? He only gets half way through introducing himself before getting interrupted. Kid hears "magic" and "occult Detective" and just? Goes "oh! So you wanna check out the magic Ally with me? Sam wanted me to pick up some witchy stuff!"

..............how magic?

(In Which? Constantine becomes Danny's interdimensional Con buddy)

@the-witchhunter @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation @lolottes @nerdpoe

[gguk-n]

Hello there! Love your work on the Max Verstappen x reader fiction. If it isn't too much, can I request an angst based on the song " All I wanted was a coffee" by Samantha Ebert? You can decide the ending but, a gut wrenching angst with kelly is appreciated. Thank you!

I hope you like this, I tried to use the song in the way that I saw fit. The reader has many insecurities and bit of mommy issues. Mention of cuts and bleeding.

Part 1 of Do you love me?

I wish you loved me

{Reader’s POV}

Max and I started dating soon after he got out of a really long relationship with his ex. With Max being a Formula One driver; the details of his past were general knowledge, did I wish I didn’t know? Yes. Because in the pictures of Max and Kelly, you could see his eyes sparkled and he would smile so bright sometimes and I felt like I never got to know that Max. But every relationship is different; I couldn’t compare it, could I?

Max was loving, I mean every boyfriend is. He would sometimes forget important stuff but he was a busy man with an even busier job.

But it hurt when I saw Max with P or Kelly for that matter. His eyes would light up; I just felt like crap every time he met them, but Max never noticed. At the end of the day, Max was always around P while she was growing up, it was a given she missed him, right?

It got worse when Kelly started coming to races and meeting Max. The worst was yet to come; the other girlfriends started to side eye me whenever me and Max would interacted as if Max was Kelly’s boyfriend.

I was in the bathroom when I heard them; they were talking about how Max and Kelly looked cute together, they were the model family, that Max deserved better. Kelly even talked about all the gifts he got her and P recently. I just sat there in the cubical for a very long time.

I waited, I was dumb I know but no one’s loved me before and the fact that Max was willing to love me even for a moment felt like relief. I didn't want to let him go, I could not when there was a chance he would come back.

I waited like always, Max was always away having dinner with P since she missed him. She missed him a lot ever since we started dating. I never said anything since Max was like her father figure but it hurt.

One of those nights, I was sat drinking whiskey, it was in Max’s alcohol cabinet. The bottle was almost over. The snacks dried up soon after the third glass. I was sat on the floor, glass in hand when Max walked in. “World’s best dad everyone” I sang. “How much did you drink?” He laughed. He laughed at me. “You know my mother was right” I said, trying to get up. “She wasn’t really the best mom, now was she” Max commented. “Yeah but she was right about a lot of things and she was right about how difficult to love I was” I laughed. Max looked at me with sadness in his eyes, “don’t pity me Max.... How could Kelly steal you from me?” I cried. Max said nothing. “No no sorry sorry, how can something be stolen from me when it was never mine to begin with.” I laughed bitterly taking the last swig from my glass. “The alcohol’s gone Max, just like your feelings for me or did you ever have them to begin with?” I slurred.

“Y/N I” Max began. “No Max, you’re not at fault. It’s my fault for coming between 2 lovers. You should’ve told me that you loved her, I would’ve never dated you” I cried for the first time tonight in front of Max. As I steadied myself, the whiskey bottle fell and broke, and I tried to pick up the pieces but ended up cutting myself. “Hehe look Max I’m bleeding” I giggled holding up my hand. “Y/N let’s clean that up” Max said trying to hold my hand. “NO, Kelly won’t like it. I’m not a home wrecker...or maybe I am” I laughed bitterly. “Let me help you” Max pleaded. “You look at me with so much concern for the first time since we started dating” I pointed out. Max’s eyes bore into mine. I tried to walk away but ended up stepping on the glass. “Look I’m bleeding from my foot now too. At least now people can see that I’m hurting since I’ll have bandages all over me. My heart ache gets missed every time, you know. Maybe now, they might see my hurt, for once” I said with fresh tears forming.

“Mothers are always right. I’m unlovable, always been. If only I was pretty, if only I was a model, if only I was thinner, if only I was….Kelly Piquet, then you would’ve loved me. But I’m me, I’m plain old difficult to love, Y/N that’s why I’m unlovable” I chuckled. “Let’s go to the hospital” he pleaded again. “No, I’ll take care of myself. Don’t worry about me anymore. I’ll be out of your hair before you know it. Then you can have your happy ever after with Kelly” I laughed bitterly. “Did you ever love me?” I asked. Max was quiet. “I was just a rebound wasn’t I. Tell me you really loved me even for a second” I begged. “I’m sorry.” He said.

I grabbed my phone with my other hand while bleeding on to the floor; “don’t worry. I’ll clean your place before I leave” I said looking at the trail of blood I was leaving and dialled my phone calling the only person I knew in Monaco, the only person who didn’t hate me or talk badly about me, Lewis. “Lewis, Hi....I need to go to the hospital. I’m bleeding” I giggled. “Are you drunk? How did you hurt your self? Where are you?” He asked concerned. “Yes, yes, home no wait, Max’s home” I answered. I heard him sigh. “Where Max?” He asked. “He’s here” I said looking up at Max. “Ask him to take you now?” Lewis suggested. “NO, we broke up, and ex-boyfriend’s don’t take their ex-girlfriend’s to the doctor” I explained. “What?” He asked shocked. “Please Lewis, it hurts. Can you come soon?” I asked. “I’ll be there soon” Lewis said and cut the call. I sat there and looked at Max, “The whiskey tasted sweet as always and you sobered me up so fast” I sighed looking at the mess I had made.

Lewis came to take me to the hospital; he did not speak to Max. I guess even he knew what was going on. I didn’t see Max again after that either.

[loganswdc]

every day i learn something new about logan sargeant and his racing career, not just about his performance in f1 but in f2 and previous series, too. and every day i end up so sad because he genuinely has so so much potential and can do so much but he keeps being give a poor hand of cards. this guy out qualified his teammate in f2 TEN TO FOUR. and who was his teammate?? liam lawson. liam joined redbull’s driver academy in february of 2019 while logan only got to join an f1 team’s driver academy in october of 2021. that team was williams. which, as we know, hasn't exactly been the best performing team in recent years. oscar piastri got to join an f1 team’s driver academy in january of 2020 (the renault sport academy, later rebranded as the alpine academy). liam and oscar both got the opportunity to do f1 tests for YEARS prior to their f1 debuts in 2023. liam had 4 and a half years of experience in f1 cars before 2023. oscar had 3 years of experience in f1 cars before 2023. even if it was just testing and practice sessions, it's still something.

what did logan get? one measly fp2 session, post-season testing, and then jumped right in to pre-season testing in 2023. he already had a seat in williams then, so with the experience from before the pre-season testing in 2023 he got to do maybe 800km of testing in an f1 car. the others — in this case i mean oscar, liam, and heck even nyck de vris — had opportunities to drive f1 cars and gain experience for YEARS before logan. if you look at nyck de vris: he got signed to the mclaren young driver programme in 2010. he joined the audi sport racing academy in 2016.  granted, he left the mclaren programme in before the 2019 season and left audi after the 2019 season, too. but he then went to mercedes as a reserve driver and tester for 2020 and afterwards. this means he got just about a DECADE AND A HALF of teams putting their time and energy into training him to join f1.

logan got a year. one. single. fucking year. that is entirely incomparable to the other rookies from 2023, who had so much more experience before hand. and yet logan was jumped into f1 and the expectations were so high for a guy who hasn't had the chance to train and learn and gain experience.

and yet when we look at the 2022 f2 season, logan sargeant, a rookie, was 1 point off from his teammate —the one and only liam lawson — scoring p4 in the championship. he outqualified his teammate 10 to 4. he was the first american to win an f2 race (that is, of course, following the rebrand from gp2 to f2, but regardless, that’s still an important thing to note and an achievement of his that should be celebrated).

logan sargeant has so much potential and if only williams would show him a little more faith unlike what they’ve been doing, if only they’d give him the same upgrades as alex, if only they wouldn’t force him to drive a car 15kg overweight from that of his teammate’s car, if only they wouldn’t force him to use outdated rear and front wings from the season prior. then perhaps he would have a chance to show what he can do. perhaps if he wasn’t stuck in a team with a crap car who have shown zero faith (which has been vehemently obvious since the circus in australia) in him and made him absolutely miserable, a shell of himself — which you can clearly see in recent interviews and photos of him — then maybe he’d be able to show how good he really is. and maybe if williams hadn’t been so adamant about taking him out of f2 so quickly and let him develop for one more year, we’d be seeing headlines that say “logan sargeant, first american f1 driver on the podium since michael andretti in 1993.” and perhaps we could even see him winning races.

no matter what someone says about his current f1 performances — though most base that solely off of where he ends up on the grid rather than looking at his actual driving and seeing how good he is as a driver considering the crap circumstances he’s in — logan sargeant is a better driver than what everyone says. he is trying so insanely hard to get a car that is miles off from the rest of the field to place as high as humanly possible. no one can say that if you put another driver in that car that logan is driving they'd be doing better than he is now. the fact is, they wouldn't be. he's been given an absolute tractor and is expected to score points when that car isn't built for getting in the points. and yet logan managed to get p10 in the miami sprint race — which should be recognized and commended. because he was in an awful car and he absolutely shined that day. that was just the start of showing what he could do. but he hasn't been given the same resources as alex, those being the upgrades, so what more can he do compared to what he's doing now?

and i am actually sitting here crying as i type this because this is a driver who is giving it his all even when the entire world is against him, even when his entire TEAM is against him, and he is persevering to the best of his abilities. and i know exactly what it’s like to sit here, wanting to reach for your dreams and show everyone how good you are, but to have only your closest friends and family on your side, rooting for you. what it’s like to look everywhere around you and see everyone calling you crap and saying you should quit and that you aren’t and never will be good enough. to look around and see your closest friends and family cheering for you, yet feeling like crap because you aren't doing as well as you would want, feeling inferior to everyone around you.

news flash: logan sargeant is and will always be good enough. he just needs the opportunity to show it, and williams is ruining that for him.

and yes, i will defend him with my life. people who try to say otherwise can try to do the same hours — the WEEKS — worth of research that i’ve done about logan and his career because he IS a good driver and HE DESERVES BETTER.

any hate comments towards logan will be deleted, because i have neither the time nor the energy to deal with that and argue with logan haters. i've said all of what i know and can remember about him and his career above, and will add what i can as time goes on and i remember something else or learn something new. if you have the time to hate on logan, you have the time to do your research and examine the fact that he has the potential to do well, but is not in a position for that because of the abhorrent circumstances he is currently in.

thank you for coming to my ted talk. edit: i'd also really recommend reading this twitter thread!! it goes into some more depth on logan and his f2 / f1 career, and even a little bit about his f3 career. it's very informative and articulates much of logan's career and why he is a better driver than many believe very well. https://x.com/herrocult/status/1795747913588761027

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Forbidden Fruit.

That’s the thing about Declan - he always gets what he wants. It might be wrong… but it feels so right.

declan o’hara x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. use of the c word. age gap. cheating. declan’s filthy mouth needs its own warning.

word count - 2.3k

authors note - that man is a munch and I cannot be convinced otherwise. my crush on aidan turner has returned tenfold and i’m about to make it everyone’s problem. read declan’s dialogue in that gorgeous irish accent of his for the full experience.

masterlist. inbox.

You’ve fake laughed so much this afternoon that you can’t remember what your real one sounds like.

Finally breaking away from a conversation with Freddie’s wife, you swan across the garden in your sundress towards the food and drink table. You absentmindedly pick at the strawberries, hoping and praying that no one bothers you for a moment. All you need is a minute to yourself, away from all of these faux smiles and boastful exchanges.

Reaching towards a raspberry, you feel fingertips ghosting across your back quickly.

“Y’alright?”

You’d recognise that voice anywhere, of course, and not just because he’s the only Irish man in The Cotswolds.

“Bored out of my mind, actually.”

“You’d never know.”

“I’m a good actress, these days. I’ve done one too many of these stupid garden parties.”

He chuckles all genuine and honeyed, and you’d be lying if you said the sound didn’t settle warmly in your bones.

“Whatcha doing tonight?”

He’s keeping his voice low, inconspicuous. You’ve both turned so you’re looking out over the garden, backs to the table, watching the crowds of people and their gossiping. To anyone else, it looks like an innocent conversation between two acquaintances. They can’t see his hand playing with the hem of your dress behind you, or the way his fingers keep brushing the backs of your thighs, sending shivers down your spine.

“My boyfriend is coming over. You know that.”

“What time?”

You roll your eyes but answer anyway.

“Nine.”

“So what I’m hearing… is that you’re available from whenever this crap finishes until then?”

“That’s a stupid idea.”

“You usually love my stupid ideas.”

“Well maybe I’m trying to be smarter.”

He laughs with his full chest while you fight to keep the grin off your face, shaking your head.

“You’re already the smartest person here. Any smarter and we’re all doomed.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Declan.”

He pauses for a moment, pressing his side into yours and running his thumb across the soft skin of your thigh underneath your dress.

“I think we both know that’s not true, sweetheart.”

Your breath stutters as you will yourself to get it together, desperate to not repeatedly give in to his murmured promises and flirty remarks. It’s wrong. You know it is, both of you do, and yet…

“I want you gone by eight at the latest. I don’t need the two of you bumping into each other on my front step.”

He smirks like the cat that got the cream, looking down at you with lust drunk eyes.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “Promise to make it worth your while, yeah?”

“You always do,” you breathe out, so quietly that you’re surprised he hears.

He’s about to reply when you’re both startled by Rupert, striding over with the confidence of ten men and a bottle of champagne in his hand.

“Have they run out of glasses, CB?”

He slings an arm around your shoulder, laughing that rich man’s laugh right into your ear.

“Live a little, darling. Walk with me, will you? I have a story that might be worth your time, and I thought I’d bring it to my favourite journalist before anyone else.”

Rupert all but drags you across the garden, already chattering on about a scandal in the local constituency of the Conservative Party. You cast your eyes back to where Declan hasn’t moved, his gaze roving over your figure as you walk away.

He winks cheekily, dirty smirk slapped across his face.

You hate the way it sends electricity running through your veins in anticipation.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s six forty five when there’s a knock on your door.

The devil himself is standing on your front step, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Hi darlin’.”

His accent is like molten honey, golden and warm and laced with sweetness. There’s mischief running through it though - as there always is.

“Come on,” you urge, grabbing his tie and pulling him inside, worried that one of your neighbours will see.

He laughs as he shuts the door behind him, unphased by your urgency.

“Thought you had a meeting. CB was telling me all about it earlier.”

“Rupert would tell you anything,” he chuckles. “He’s got a soft spot for pretty girls.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” you giggle, undoing his tie from around his neck and hanging it on your coat rack.

“No. I have a soft spot for one pretty girl.”

“Sweet talker,” you tease as you roll your eyes, undoing the first few buttons on his shirt. “How about you put your money where your mouth is, hmm? We don’t have all night.”

He clicks his tongue, hands finding your hips to pull you against him.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning in so his lips brush yours. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“Less talking,” you scold, grabbing at his biceps to kiss him desperately.

Declan pushes you up against the wall, hips pressing into yours as he slips his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like cigarettes and whiskey and those mints he keeps in a tin in his back pocket. He scatters open mouthed kisses across your neck, licking across your skin and sucking the spot underneath your ear.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he mumbles. “Ever since I saw you in this dress.”

“You like it?” you breathe, head rolling to the side to give him more access.

“I fucking love it.”

“Good. Bought it for you.”

He groans, grinding his hips into yours.

“You’re a minx,” he pants, biting at your shoulder. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

With that, Declan wraps his arms around your middle, practically dragging you into the living room to throw you onto the sofa. He pulls your dress over your head, throwing it onto the floor with reckless abandon.

He instantly gets on his knees in front of you, spreading your legs with rough hands.

“Been waitin’ for this cunt all fuckin’ day.”

Your underwear is tugged down and discarded before you can blink, leaving you naked and high on the anticipation of it all. Your lungs are heaving, hands shaking as you will him to do something.

Declan sits back on his haunches, making a show of rolling up his sleeves. He looks so broad and commanding in his blue jeans with his shirt undone. He might be the one on his knees, but he’s definitely still in charge here.

You tangle your fingers into his dark hair and tug, pulling him closer.

“Please, Dec.”

“You sound so beautiful when ya beg.”

He grips your thighs tightly, ensuring they stay apart, as he leans in and presses kisses to any skin he can find.

“Don’t tease.”

“Or what, hmm? What are ya gonna do, sweetheart?”

“Stop it,” you chastise, head dropping back onto the cushions. “Please, baby.”

He chuckles before diving forwards, licking a stripe through your core. He wastes no time, tongue flicking over your clit like he’s done so many times before.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, fingers gripping his hair tightly. “Fuck, Declan.”

You’re convinced he enjoys this just as much as you do. He’ll eat you out for hours, never once expecting something in return - happy to feel you fall apart on his tongue again and again and again.

He knows exactly which spots will have you arching your back, how much pressure to use to have you writhing on the sofa cushions, where to put his hands to push you right over the edge. He can play you like a fiddle, observant and experienced.

His nose nudges your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, messy and wet and completely committed. The grip he has on your thighs is getting tighter and tighter, fingertips bruising your skin. You pray you’ll be able to see the marks when you look in the mirror tomorrow.

You’re teetering on the edge of your release, legs shaking and abdomen tightening. Declan can read you like a book, knowing exactly where you’re at - and taking advantage of it.

Just as you’re about to come, he pulls away and sits back, grinning like a deviant.

“No,” you’re panting. “The fuck are you doing?”

He laughs, leaning down to rest his head on your leg. He looks up at you with a gaze that’s half lust and half mischief, biting at his lip as he watches your chest heave.

“What do you want, darlin’?”

You pout at him, tears welling in your eyes.

“Come on, let me hear you say it. I want you to beg me to make you come. Tell me how you’ve been waiting for it all day, sweetheart.”

“I-Declan, I just-”

“Come on smart girl, use that big brain of yours. Why don’t you tell me all about how you think about me when you touch yourself? No - why don’t you tell me how you think about me while he fucks you?”

Your hips buck up into the air, desperate for any kind of friction. Declan laughs cruelly, wrapping his arms around your thighs again to pull you to the edge of the sofa, the strength he exerts only turning you on more.

“It’s okay,” he soothes against your core. “You don’t have to tell me. Your dripping wet cunt tells me everything I need to know, darlin.”

All you can do is moan, breathing like you’ve run a marathon. All you can see, all you can hear, all you can feel is Declan O’Hara.

“If we had the time, I’d edge you some more. Eat you out until you cried. You always look so pretty when you’re crying f’me.”

He finally takes pity on you, curling his tongue inside you as his nose repeatedly bumps against your clit. He’s practically making out with your core, saliva dripping down your thighs and onto the sofa. You can’t bring yourself to care about the mess, more focused on the older man’s mouth and the skills it possesses.

You’re whining, fingernails digging into his scalp as you grasp for something to hold onto. He’s groaning too, having just as much as fun as you are.

“Come for me, pretty girl. Show me how fucking beautiful you look.”

Your back bows off the sofa as you grind against his face, riding out your climax. Your thighs tighten around his head, desperate for him to keep going for as long as possible.

“That’s it. Atta girl. There we go.”

You’re trying to catch your breath as Declan stands up, sitting down next to you and pulling you into his side. His fingers draw patterns on your hips, absentmindedly calming you down as you nestle into him, seeking out his body heat.

You lean up and kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth eagerly. He tastes like you, and the realisation makes you whinge.

“Let me return the favour, please,” you whisper against his lips.

“As much as I’d love that, darlin’… we can’t.”

You quirk a brow at him in confusion, his rejection more than unusual.

“It’s twenty past eight.”

“Oh, shit,” you groan, finding your underwear and pulling them up your legs.

“I wish I could stay,” he reassures as he kisses you again sweetly. “You know I do.”

You nod, running your fingers through his sweat soaked locks to move them out of his face.

“Promise I’ll repay you next time.”

“I’ll hold ya to that.”

The phone ringing startles you both, your heart jumping in your chest. You pick it up quickly, wrapping the cord around your finger.

“Hello? How are you? Ah, good. Yes, fine. Alright, I’ll see you then. Yes, see you soon. Mhmm… I can’t wait either.”

You put it down just as quickly as you picked it up, finding your dress from the floor and pulling it over your head.

“That was Patrick. He’s at the train station, about to start the drive back here. He won’t be long.”

“I best get going then,” Declan says as he buttons up his shirt. “Don’t need a family reunion in your living room now, do we?”

You shake your head, scoffing at his attempt at a joke. Walking him to the front door, you press his tie from the coat rack into his hand so he doesn’t forget it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I? You’re coming for lunch at the house?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you say as you lean up to kiss him, sighing at the taste of his lips. “I’ll wear that lacy white lingerie under my dress just for you.”

“Great,” he groans. “Now I have to think about my son seeing that on you when it should be me.”

“You might,” you tease, smoothing out his shirt. “There’s a lot of rooms in that house, Declan.”

“You’re a minx.”

He kisses you once more, big hands cradling your face as he pulls you in.

“See ya tomorrow, sweetheart.”

“Yes, you will.”

You watch him go from your front step, making sure no one sees him leave. As soon as he’s out of sight, you’re shutting the door, trying to tidy the living room frantically. You open the windows, lighting a candle and picking up everything that was knocked to the floor in the lust filled frenzy. You’re covering your tracks as best you can, just like you’ve done countless times before.

You don’t need Patrick asking why the room smells like his dad’s aftershave.

You don’t need Patrick asking questions at all.

a little gift for you, as promised…

@do-it-for-kicks @whytheylosttheirminds @laverna-fanfictions @graceflorence

and of course, if you enjoyed this - throw me a little reblog if you so wish… help a girl out… <3

[o0sleepingdead0o]

Prepared for Anything

Part 2, MasterPost

Danny stared at the ceiling, bored, as the creepy clown laughed manically at a camera. Danny hadn’t been in this dimension for two minutes, (he’d portalled directly into Joker’s hideout) before he was promptly tied to a chair. He could get out of it easily.

Thing was, there were others here, restrained more thoroughly than Danny. They wore colourful, armoured suits and were obviously the vigilantes/heroes of this. . .place—Gotham? Danny’d heard the name mentioned a few times now—This Freakshow wannabe was obviously one of their villains. 

Danny had been hoping someone would show up without having to draw attention to himself. What was this dimension’s stance on halfas? Or ghosts?

But no one had come yet, it had been an hour, and he was getting stiff from sitting here so long without being able to move his limbs.

Danny heaved a loud, exasperated sigh-groan at the ceiling. The guy, face-painted like a toddler who’d gotten into their parent’s make-up, suddenly stopped monologuing. 

Good. It was getting annoying.

“Are you done yet?” Danny complained much like the impatient teenager he was. “I’ve got crap to do, wrap it up, would you?”

Danny came here to explore. He was not exploring. He should be exploring and it was all this dude’s fault.

Danny supposed he could go all ghost on him and bounce, but he came all this way. It wasn’t much of hassle, but still. Danny was stubborn. He knew this.

The warehouse was silent. The creepo wasn’t talking, anymore, he wasn’t doing anything, and Danny deigned to lift his head from where it’d been thrown back on the chair.

The costumed people were looking at him in horror.

Danny wasn’t sure why.

The walking fashion disaster began to cackle with condescending amusement.

Yeah, okay, whatever.

Danny ignored the man’s delve into something about Danny’s impending doom, or threatening him with pain, and something, something, something. Something about broken this, burning that, yada, yada yada, when Danny got an idea.

Behind the chair where his hands were bound, knowing no one was behind him, he quietly broke the ropes on his wrists. The vigilantes—a red one with bandoliers crossing over his chest and one who wore a largely grey and black suit with an R emblem on the left side of his chest—were valiantly trying to dissuade the psycho to leave Danny alone, who now realized the said psycho was coming towards him, carrying a crowbar.

How original.

The Joker, as Danny heard someone call him at some point, he’s not sure when, leaned in close. His breath stank. 

Danny made a disgusted face. “Do you not brush your teeth at all? Gross, dude.”

“You won’t be mak—“

Danny punched him in the jaw. The guy went down pretty easily. 

Danny made an annoyed noise as he bent down to untie his ankles from the chair legs. He muttered to himself. “Stupid villains, always gotta get in the way, why can’t I just have one nice vacation, huh?”

“How did you do that?” 

Danny looked up at the red one. “Do what?” He asked, standing and stretching with satisfying pops.

“Get free.”

“Oh. . .” Danny reached into his hoodie sleeve and pulled out a small hand saw. He guessed he coulda used a knife, but it was the first thing he'd thought of.

The guy spluttered. “You just keep a saw in your sleeve?”

“Yep.” Danny popped the P. No need for them to know he can make portals. As tiny as needed. “You guys want help out of those, or what?” Danny gestured to the chains keeping the two bound on the floor.

“No, Joker’s goons outside probably has the keys, we have back-up. . . .coming. . . .where did you get that?”

Danny didn’t miss a beat as he crouched to get a grip on the chain with the large pair of bolt cutters. “Ah, ya know, never leave home without a good pair of bolt cutters.” He offered. The room they were in was pretty bare, saying he found it “lying around” wouldn’t work. It’d be pretty obvious.

“That is absurd.” The younger one said. “Where did they come from?”

Danny snapped the red one free and moved onto the angry eyebrows one. How did they still emote so well through those masks? “Just had it on hand.”

“But wh—“

“Oh look! There ya go! I gotta go, nice being held hostage with y'all.” Danny ignored their calls for him, climbing out of the nearest window and disappearing.

[uravitypng]

Hi! I love your Bully!Tsukishima posts <3 I was wondering what would happen if his princess arrived to class with a bruise that he didn’t make? She’d deny everything at first, using an excuse style “I tripped” “fell on the shower”…but he wouldn’t believe that crap, not one bit!

I kinda want to see more of protective Tsukishima >_<

🍓:3

i'm glad you like my bully!tsukki posts!! this idea took awhile to flesh out and hopefully you like the way this turned out. this is slightly different from the regular protective tsukishima as this bruise was accidental <33

tsukishima remembers every little thing about you, remembers every fact, every mannerism, every freckle, scar and curve of your body so of course he clocked immediately when you walked into class with a bruise just peaking out of the top of your blouse. it's barely visible as the blouse covers most of it and he thinks you may have tried to cover some of it with make up but with it right above your cleavage it's obvious to him.

the entire time all he can think about is you, which isn't uncommon in the slightest, but this time it's all focused on the bruise and how you got it.

he knows for a fact it isn't one of his, plus if for some reason he had forgotten about it you would remember and know better than to ever try and cover it up.

after class you leave quickly, purposefully avoiding making eye contact with tsukishima. you have a feeling he's spotted the bruise that has started forming on your soft skin, as you walked in you spotted him and saw his eyes harden as his eyes looked to where your bruise is. it was just a coincidence you looked over towards him though... it's not like whenever you turn up late and he's there before you you look to see if he's in his regular seat... it's not like you were checking to see if he's here yet or anything...

you turned up late today because you were trying to find clothes that would cover the bruise, all the clothes that would cover it are clothes you're currently washing or are dirty and need to be washed. because of that you spent longer than you wanted to finding something that you felt comfortable wearing and covered as much as possible but you had a feeling after you left your dorm that maybe you should of spent longer finding something because tsukishima might notice, even if it was only a sliver of it visible, and you were right. he did notice.

you were a little too slow leaving the class though because tsukki was able to catch up to you. he looks at your bruise and his eyebrows furrow, loosely clasping onto your wrist and taking you somewhere quiet, neither of you speak yet. you're getting use to this routine of him stealing you away.

he turns to you and crosses his own arms, "talk." you nibble your lip and try to shift your eyes away from him, looking down.

"i... uh... tripped," you say nervously.

"liar."

you pause for a second running through excuses in your head but the whole time tsukishima's waiting patiently, ready to hear if you're going to lie again.

you take a deep breath and look up at him. you can tell him. he won't believe any of your excuses anyway.

"um.. someone accidentally flicked me with a ruler and well..."

there's a pause and you continue looking up at him. "no."

"what... what do you mean no?" you say baffled, you're honestly being truthful right now.

"i promise that's what happened. a friend of a friend was messing and joking around. he had this stupid ruler in his hand and was waving it about and then he playfully flicked me with it. he didn't think it would bruise or even hurt and it didn't hurt! ... that much. it was stupid and an accident." you explain further, wanting him to believe you.

"who was it?" he straightens his back and asks without displaying any emotion in his face or tone.

"we're not doing this again tsukki. it was an accident, just an accident. i'm not giving you any name." you think back to the bully incident.

tsukishima's lip twitches in annoyance. "tell me." you say no again. "i'm sure one of your friends will tell me."

your eyes go wide at the subtle threat, you have a gut feeling that he would be able to get one of your friends to tell him who it was. it really was an accident though.

"one last chance princess."

you hold onto his arm, almost startling him at the sudden contact. "please kei, don't. i promise it was an accident. they were really sorry afterwards and felt really bad about it. they even offered to pay for the drink i had to say sorry."

tsukishima's expression softened momentarily at the use of his given name before going back to normal. maybe he could leave it alone and not do anything about it but you said it hurt, even if it was only a bit. "you told me he hurt you," he starts to pull away from you to leave but you don't let him and hold onto him tighter.

"please kei. it was a mistake. it will fade in a couple days anyway, it's only a light mark. come on, tsukishima." you plead, still holding yourself against his arm to keep him from leaving.

his resolve weakens the more he feels your soft warm body press against him and the idea that the bruise is only light is making him think about how he can cover it with his own bruise, giving you a huge hickey so for now he relents, something he never thought he'd do. the only reason he isn't really chasing after who did it right now was because you asked him not to. you basically begged him not to. you called him kei. if it ever happens again they'll regret it, it doesn't matter if it was an accident.

"i want you to know that if anything else happens i won't stop until i find out their name."

you hum in response, confirming your understanding, and give a small smile knowing that you were able to stop him and he listened to you. you're aware that if it happens again you won't be able to stop him though.

tsukishima gives you a look that says 'why aren't you verbally telling me you understand.' "okay tsukki," you respond quieter than you have been talking all this time, "and thank you," you add on even quieter, almost silently.

he hears but chooses not to respond. "i think i've figured out a solution to the bruise situation." you don't really know if this is a situation but you keep listening. "i'll just have to give you a bigger bruise on top of it." his hand reaches behind you to your skirt and lifts up your skirt slightly before pinching your ass, you let out a yelp, and he smirks. "i think you need another hickey. i think all the others have faded by now and you need a new one."

he knows of every single friend you have but the following day he watches you even closer to see if anyone acts different. he found them. just like you said, a friend of a friend in a study group. it's kind of weird how bokuto owed him a favour and that weekend at a party your friend's girlfriend kissed bokuto, weird right? they broke up obviously.

bully tsukishima masterlist

[petew21-blog]

Like father like son, Part 1

Father P.O.V.

My ex-girlfriend is a witch. Fucked up right? Yeah I never believed in any of this and she knew. And after cheating on her she said she would "make me believe". What a load of crap. I thought. Well, not anymore. Me and my son found ourselves in each others bodies. It happened just as we were normally chatting. We weren't that close, cause I was working most of the time and he was out with his friends enjoying his teen years. I wanted to get close to him, but he seemed to not want to open up to me.

If you have seen a movie Vice Versa where the Dad and son swap bodies while touching the skull. Or is it a transformation? Ah, doesn't matter. Well it happened a bit like that too. We swapped bodies literaly. The clothes stayed where they were previously.

After the initial shock and realisation that it was my girlfriend who caused it, we went to get information from her. My son had to drive, cause his body didn't have a license yet. The start was horrible. He couldn't even keep his eyes on the road, so I had to yell at him what to do. But eventually we got to her house.

On the front door was a note that said:"Went on a holiday for a month. And to my lovely ex-boyfriend - having sex with someone else makes it irreversible :) have fun"

Yeah, so we found out that we were fucked until she got back from her holiday. A month in my teen son's hormone filled body and him in my horny middle aged one. Our chances are very slim I tell you

We got back home, staying quiet on the ride home. We went into the living room and got on the sofa. Then we made a deal. We had to respect our bodies as if it were our own, no sex allowed, no drugs and alcohol. We had to scratch the alcohol, has David said he wants to enjoy the adulthood. But besides that we agreed on everything. We then proceeded to tell each other the details of our schedules. I had to mentally prepare for being in high school again and he had to prepare for a real job. I was actually kind of happy to get back there. I missed being a teen, having less responsibilities etc. Being you, enjoying life, music, love, sex. Ah, fuck. That's gonna be hard

We even had a talk about respecting each others privacy, but after we thought about it, we came to a conclusion that there was no way we could avoid looking at our new bodies naked. We had to take shower some day, or take a shit. All of these are gonna be pretty intimate so that's why.

We agreed that our bedroom's are gonna me our own places that the other can't got to.

And so we went on and parted our ways while leaving to our bedrooms. Maybe we shoould have went to each other's bedroom, but we haven't thought about that. All our clothes were in the other room, but neverminf. My room has its own access to the bathroom so I'll enjoy that.

I took off my shirt first. My sons's athletic lean teen body just being there. My finger tips touching my haird, my lips my cheeks. Tracing my neck, through the ridges I now had, going down to my beautiful abs covered in hair. I was getting hard, is it weird being hard from touching your son's body? Jesus that sounds horrible. But I am not touching my son, he is touching himself, I am just the one in control now.

I got on the ground and took off my jeans. Revealing black boxers with KISS logo and two hairy and long legs. Quite similar to mine actually. Genetics is strong I guess

I headed to the bathroom to get a proper look and clean my new body. I can't neglect my son now.

I took off his boxers. His dick flacid now, but still big. "That's my boy". I went to the bath and turned on the water. But I had no intention in lying in the water now. I had much exploring to do. I started from my feet. The beautiful and clean feet. No hard skin. I took the water and sopa into my hands and brought it up everytime I explored a part of his body. Everything wet marked a place I already knew now

I was now soaping his body above the waist line, enjoying the tight skin of his body. Being young is so amazing. He is mostly hairless, if you don't count some private areas.

I was now soaped up completely, just scrubbing the body up and down. Enjoying every movement I took.

Wow his butt is really nice, almost woman-like. Maybe I could let some guy fuck me. Wait, I can't do that. We can't have sex in each others bodies or we would seal the deal. But masturbation is not off the table I guess.

I took my middle and index finger to try out the resistsance of his hole. Nah, this hole already knows what is about to happen. And then it hit me. Fuck, his prostate his so sensitive. I went and pushed my fingers inside, while my other hand started jerking my already throbbing cock.

It couldn't have been long cause I was almost collapsing from the abundance of strong emotion and stimuli. I shot cum into the bath and then got down into the water.

What a body. Maybe this month isn't gonna be so bad after all

I got out of the shower, to find my body in his own clothes staring at me

"Wow, dad. I see you didn't waste any second huh? Hope you enjoyed it"

"Dave, it's... I'm sorry, it's the hormones. I haven't been this horny for so long. I couldn't control it"

"It's fine dad. I am gonna do the same tonight"

The rest of the week went on pretty smoothly. There were some embarassing moments, like hearing myself having an orgasm in the other bedroom, or finding open porn videos on tv, but besides that not much. I was enjoying being a young guy in high school again and having David's friends around was really great. We hung out all the time. But his friend Liam seemed like he wanted to be more than friends with David. Which complicated things a bit. I was in David's gay body now and his body wanted Liam. But I was holding on

One day we were on a beach just enjoying the weekend. We played some beach volleyball and then we got back to our towels to sunbathe

Andrew, my straight friend, then said:"David? Isn't that your dad with a new chick? Damn, he scored a nice one this time. Would like this one for myself too. Look at those tits."

And he was right. David was walking around with a blonde woman that had a hand on his waist. What took me off guard was that my body started making out with her and grabbing her tits. Not caring who might see.

Wait, does this mean what I think it means? Are we really stuck like this now? I just hope he didn't have sex with her

I changed the story a tiny bit. I was really inspired by the photos so it went to a different direction than I hoped for. I hope you don't mind. If you do, please message me and I'll do another one especially for you :)

A story request from inbox: Hi, can you write a story about a closeted widow muscle dad swapping with his straight twink son and somehow their nethaw body fits their role? The dad in his twink son's body came out as a bottom gay and the sun in his muscular dad's for found a girlfriend which he fvcks every night. Thank you

[saltofmercury]

"a.m."

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Summary: Early morning scenes, small nightmare.

Author's note: HOLY CRAP it's been a while! I haven't written anything in almost a YEAR. I'm glad that I've finally got a lil kick of writing back in me :) This is something small I wrote back in May just to get the gears working again.

"a.m."

You can hear his breathing to your left. 

Morning is just peeking through– a soft gloom enveloping your room. You’re not sure what time he got in, or how he got in this time.

“Why do you even have a key?” you ask when he unlocks the balcony window.

“In case you’re not home to unlock it for me.” He smiles big and wide, stripping the weapons aside.

It’s become a running joke to you both on how he decides to enter your apartment.

Your eyes shoot open. There’s a mountain of pillows surrounding you, warm blankets on top of you. The room is dimly lit from streetlights. You're almost sure it hasn't been a full 8 hours and yet—- your body is telling you to wake up.

You turn towards him. You almost never get to see this side of him. His breathing, slow and rhythmic. He looks so much younger when he’s relaxed. He takes over most of the bed. Arms curled above him, he’s wrapped most of the top blanket around him.

The scar below his left eye is raised, his lips are puckered out. A soft moan escapes his lips, then his body twitches. You’re on high alert.

Nightmares aren’t new. The first couple of nights that he decided to stay over your apartment, you were woken up by whimpers and sudden movements. You would sometimes catch them before he woke up and carefully soothe him back to sleep– rubbing his cheek, placing kisses along his face. Whispering careful “i love you’s” and “you’re alright i’m here now”

By morning, it was like nothing happened at all.

For him, though he may never admit it, it was nice to experience vulnerability. The constant battle he has to get a full night's rest. A plague that encases him at night.

You move closer, placing your hand on his cheek, tracing the scar with your thumb. You place a kiss on his forehead between his brows, then over the scar on his cheek. 

“You’re alright, you’re okay” you murmur.

An exhale — 

his face contorts a bit, brows furrow, then an inhale through his nose.

A hand cups your elbow, rubbing side to side. He’s fighting sleep. His eyes try to peel open.

“What time is it?” His voice, low and groggy.

“It’s too early, almost 5 am” You kiss him, apologizing. 

He groans —not even an hour of sleep. 

“Were you having a nightmare?” 

“No, I got in around 4…” He adjusts himself, the bed springs, a yawn escapes. Deflecting the question.

Sleep carefully disintegrates from his eyes. He inhales, and his eyes blink open. He can make your face out in the darkness, the gloom behind you haloing.

His body, heavy with fatigue, he pushes it aside to get closer to you, wrapping himself around you.

Warmth, vanilla, home, love.

“I used the front door today…” he mentions. He's a little proud of himself.

You giggle, adjusting yourself under his chin. His hand pulls you closer, rubbing warmth to your back. His legs warm around you. 

“Wasn’t it so much easier?”

He scoffs, remembering how ridiculous it felt to walk in with his helmet. He had to disable the cameras in the entrance then double check for anyone in the hallway to not scare them off.

“Everyone was asleep… thankfully. I just couldn’t help but think someone would see me, then see me use a key to enter an apartment.”

You smile at how silly it sounds. The Red Hood having an apartment to come home to.

“It’s much better than entering through a balcony window.” you whisper.

He hums, “Entering through a balcony never gave me nightmares.”

Tracing circles on his back, you lull him back to sleep, waiting for his breathing to even out. You whisper more love into his ear, hoping it reaches his subconscious.

[tired-biscuit]

hmmm thinking about bratty, shit disturbing omega reader telling alpha kiba 'ooo you wanna breed me so bad' during a petty argument when they're not even together and it resulting in him putting you in a non-con mating press.....

18+ MDNI, fem!omega!reader // cw: noncon, omegaverse, breeding, reader is in heat and kiba is MEAN about it.

wait, this is actually perfect; there’s just something about omegaverse and kiba that makes such a good combo every single time!

i’m thinking about him being your neighbour. he’s nice on the eyes but he’s also grouchy, not much of a talker, and always seems super tense whenever you bump into each other in the hallway or at the entrance leading into your apartment complex.

and when i say tense, i mean tense. your mailbox resides next to his, so if you by any chance come down to get mail at the same time as him, he’s clutching his bills with a white-knuckled grip and is storming right back upstairs and slamming his door shut with an unnecessarily loud thud before you’ve even finished sticking your key into the tiny lock.

while living so close to each other, you’ve tried being polite towards him on several occasions. have greeted him with a smile and a quick “morning!” or “hi!” even though all he did in response was grumble something under his breath and brush you right off. you even went as far as to ask him how his run went when he came back into the building drenched in sweat and with his cheeks flushed a pretty red one time, but to no avail. the face he pulled made him look like he was seconds away from telling you to fuck off.

all signs point to general dislike no matter what you do, so winning him over just for the sake of having a good relationship seems to be outright impossible. which is also a huge bummer because he lives right next door, and it’d be nice to have him on your side since it significantly lessens the chance of him nagging you when the music is a smidge too loud or whenever you have friends staying the night.

by the time several weeks had passed — hell, you’ve endured almost two months of this crap — and he was no closer to warming up to you, you’d given up. not only that, you also made sure to give him a taste of his own medicine: you got rid of the sweet girl attitude and instead started treating him the same way he treated you.

rudely.

so it’s no wonder that he appears to be absolutely fucking pissed when he shows up at your doorstep one day when you’re in the middle of suffering through one of your worst heats yet, banging on your door with an impatient fist and sporting the pushiest demeanor you’ve ever seen.

when you finally force yourself to get off the couch and open the door, the first thing you realise is that he’s so big that he fills the entire entrance. all muscle and raw, brutal power. you’ve never gotten the chance to see him this upclose.

the glare in his dark brown eyes is harsh as he immediately makes eye contact with you, and his lips press into a firm line. there’s a constant flutter of a muscle in his right cheek that he can’t seem to get rid of.

he doesn’t look happy.

and there’s an odd sinking feeling appearing in the pit of your stomach because of it.

“what do you want?” you ask, trying your best to breathe as little as possible through your nose. he smells like pure alpha, heavy and intense because of that wretched musk — a scent you definitely shouldn’t be in close vicinity of at this particular time.

“i want you to get the fuck out of this building already,” he snarls with zero hesitation, gripping the side of the doorframe so that he can shove himself even further into your space. “you’re stinking up the entire place with your omega bullshit and it’s making it hard to think.”

“ex-…” you blink slowly, taken aback by the jumble of insults he’s just thrown at you. “excuse me?”

“you heard me the first time,” he snips, baring his front teeth for a split second as he visibly cringes at you. his canines are sharp; it’s your first time noticing this since he sure as hell never smiled in your presence. “i’ve got work in the morning and i can’t relax when your scent is taking over the entire goddamn floor. either find someone to take care of your heat for ya and give that vibrator that you’ve been riding since last night a rest already, or move the fuck out.”

you stare at him, dumfounded and wide eyed just like the first time. he stares right back, with his jaw tightly clenched and his shoulders stiff.

and there’s just something about the way he looks at you now, about the way he looks now — so rugged and blatantly male and rough around the edges, that causes your panties to turn even slicker than they already are.

“you’ve gotta be kidding me… christ, are all of you omegas so freaking pathetic?” he mutters quietly as he watches you squeeze your thighs together.

you’re dressed in nothing but a pair of tiny panties and an oversized t-shirt since you planned to do nothing else but sit at home today and try to make yourself feel better. the thin piece of fabric is doing absolutely nothing when it comes to keeping the scent of your urges at bay.

kiba’s throat feels like it’s on fire. it makes it hard to speak when he says, “whatever, just- are you gonna do somethin’ about it or not?”

“no, i’m not.” in your disoriented, the-heat-has-outright-cooked-my-brain-and-turned-it-into-useless-mush state, you can’t help but say the first thing that pops into your mind, “i’ve got just as much of a right to be here as everyone else does, you know. and it’s not my fault that you can’t focus because your shitty alpha brain is telling you to breed me… so if that’s all, i’ll be kindly asking you to get off my doorstep. i have a toy i want to get back to.”

you go to slam the door shut right in front of his nose, only to be caught off guard when BAM! — he uses his hand to shove it right back open again.

oh, he’s definitely not used to omegas disrespecting him or acting bratty around him. because of it, he’s all up in your face in a matter of seconds, blood boiling underneath tan skin.

with every step he takes forward, you try to take one back, but it doesn’t take long for him to corner you. before you know it, he’s got you with your back against the wall. his cock is thick and heavy in his sweatpants, pressing against your thigh and exposing the fact that your heat is affecting him too, and you spring into action because of it, desperately fighting to create more distance between your body and his.

however, the problem is that he’s ended up standing so close to you that the proximity is practically non-existent. trying to shove him away is futile since he’s so much bigger than you that he looms over your smaller frame and keeps you caged between the wall and himself with no issue.

you don’t stand a chance against him.

“look at me.”

forced to act submissive by nature, you give in easily to his demand despite the fact that it takes all the effort in the world for you to even attempt to refuse it. so you lift your gaze like the good little omega that you are, and you come to learn that there are tiny summer freckles dusting the bridge of his nose. you’ve never gotten the chance to see him this upclose either.

mentioned bridge slightly scrunches with displeasure now as his hand moves to wrap around your throat. he leans in, his voice hoarse, ���is anyone else in here with ya?”

“y-yes,” you stammer, upper lip wobbling because of the fastly upcoming tears that are threatening to fall any second now. you’re well aware that alphas can get aggressive whenever they slip into rut, so you and your big mouth have put yourselves in quite the predicament. and if anything, this particular situation is definitely good enough of a reason to cry about.

“don’t you dare fucking lie to me. that shit pisses me off.” he gives your neck a firm squeeze, enough to make you kick your feet against the floor in sheer, utter panic. a scared little voice in your head tells you that he could lift you right off the ground if he wanted to. or worse.

“no, n-no there isn’t anyone else here!” you squeak out. “it’s just me and my cat! m’sorry!”

his eyebrows draw together.

“what?” you ask warily, trying to calm him down by distracting him even though you’re well aware that he can smell how wet your pussy has become by now and that it’s making him lose more and more of his sense of morality. there’s just something about his touch… it’s so warm that it makes you want to arch your back, as unbelievable as that sounds. “is something the matter?”

“no,” he mutters, still looking unimpressed. god, do his features ever soften? “it’s just that i hate cats, is all… dogs are better.”

you make a mental note to remember this piece of information for whatever reason. what the fuck.

“anyway,” he continues before you can say anything. “let’s take care of your heat now. i have a game to watch later, so i wanna be done by six… unless you feel like warming my dick at my place, that is.”

“w-what?” you freeze, cold sweat rushing over you. one tear falls, sliding down your much too feverish cheek and you sniffle. “no, wait-”

“yeah, yeah, you don’t want it, blah blah blah,” he brushes you off so carelessly that it makes your pulse begin to hammer inside your ears. “and yet you’re still soaking wet between your legs and feeling like you’ll die if i don’t shove my cock inside ya this very instant. spare me with the poor, helpless omega crap, sweetheart... you ain’t foolin’ nobody.”

he’s looking directly into your eyes again, completely shameless and with zero remorse, and you’re so turned on by it that your clit is throbbing. it’s making you slightly nauseous.

“i…” you swallow thickly, trying not to think about the amount of saliva that’s gathering in your mouth. “i don’t-”

without a single warning, he presses himself against you in a way that instantly makes you buck your hips towards him in search for more friction. when he begins to draw back, you act before thinking; grabbing a fistful of his t-shirt and frantically tugging him closer.

“see, i told ya,” he purrs, cruel satisfaction evident on his face as he watches you struggle. “you need me.”

he’s right. god-fucking-damn it, he’s right. the urgency to have an alpha like him inside you has gotten so bad by now that you can barely stand. if it weren’t for his hand that he’s still got wrapped around your throat, you’re pretty sure you’d already be laying on the floor by now.

and that is exactly where you end up.

on the floor, naked, manhandled into a mating press and forcefully stuffed full with his cock. moaning like a slut, sweating like crazy and crying at him to stop, to fucking stop stop STOP, even though you’re the one who’s reaching out, desperately trying to cling onto him and keep him inside.

the sounds your pussy is making whenever he sinks in to the hilt is fucking embarrassing. you’re so wet, practically delirious with want, twitching and whining when he hits that sweetspot deep inside you. you don’t even know his first name, so you’re just babbling nonsense, clawing at his strong arms in meek attempt to punish him.

“open your legs wider f’me.”

the desire to spread your legs further for him even if he’s literally the meanest piece of shit of a man is making you feel disgusting, but you just can’t stop yourself from obeying. your body wants him, it yearns for him, and it’s making your hormones go batshit crazy.

“that’s it, sweetheart.” he pants above you as he praises you, back arching and bicep flexing when he places one hand on your belly. “trying to be such a good girl for your alpha, huh? gonna do just about anythin’ to get me to knock ya up.”

your sobbing intensifies when he presses into the bulge his cock makes underneath your skin.

it’s the first time you see him smile.

[riririnnnn]

More random things in Blue Lock I find endearing:

-> Brothers

LOOK AT THE HAND PLACEMENT OF SAE. JUST LOOK AT IT. LOOK. AT. IT. OHMYGOD I'M GONNA CRY.

Oh god.

It's tough to explain, but to see him supporting Rin's arm instead of the trophy makes me want to punch a wall. It feels like, "Yes, we won this together, Rin." OHMYGOD! AAAAAAAA!!!

-> Hushed wisher

I really don't think we have ever seen Noa coaching any player other than Isagi, so him silently rooting for Kaiser caught me off guard real hard. Of course, it doesn't seem like much of a big deal, but to see that Noa hadn't completely taken his eyes off of Kaiser and that he hadn't completely pulled away his trust from Kaiser hits a certain type of emotion in my heart.

Considering that Kaiser wants to win over Noa too—a fact Noa, probably, knows—makes everything feel a bit.. bittersweet.

-> CHEERS!!

The above panel happened after Shidou scored a goal against Barcha and honestly—

CUTE!!!

I mean, BM was next in line to face PxG—it's probably the reason why they were watching the match live—and they were going to face Shidou which makes them rivals, and yet, when he does something cool, they all go, "WOOHOO! THAT'S COOL!!" instead of worrying or being jealous.

It's called sportsmanship, I guess?

It's sweet.

-> BM's Dad

There's another translation, but I find the above one way better because it's so... soft.

I mean, Noa has always been shown as this cold, emotionless person who inhales and exhales logic, so it was sweet when he tried to reassure Kiyora—when he showed some kind of compassion. It was like, "Hey, Kiddo! It's okay, don't worry, you'll play the next time! Cheer up!"

It also makes it sound like even if Kiyora were not to have the required stats for the next match, then Noa was prepared to against his own ideals and let Kiyora play regardless.

Sweet!

-> Protective

When Nagi got pissed off because Barou's violent behaviour nearly hurt Reo. Like, just look at that stance, he was ready to beat the crap out of Barou if Reo wouldn't have stopped him.

No matter what label you give Nagi and Reo—lovers or friends—you can't deny that they are probably the best thing that happened to eachother.

I really want what they have.

-> "It's their love language"

They barely knew eachother and yet when these two started to brawl, they all intervened immediately—Nanase and Isagi are literally hanging onto them with their dear life. It's tough to explain, but I found the gesture really sweet, like, they didn't know them! They could bash open their skulls—it wouldn't affect them at all and yet, they are trying to stop them!

Adorbs!!

Also, Chigiri was on the other side of the field, I guess. He came running!!! So sweet!

-> First friend

The way Bachira blindly believed in Isagi. Like, he had full trust that Isagi will come and play with him. He never doubted him at all! The healthiest duo of Blue Lock!

Also, look at his duck lips. Cutie.

-> "Welcome to the academy!"

Anybody who has shifted to a completely new place full of completely new people knows how good and relieving it feels when others make an effort to help you feel welcomed.

No idea if those three extra characters got selected in the tryouts or not, but they were nice. If Kaiser would've met them earlier, then they all would've surely been good buddies.

-> Beloved Ace

The way everyone instantly got mad at Shidou when he hurt Sendou—sweet! Also, the fact that they all refused to play if Sendou didn't play makes me giggle.

I adore bonds like these so much.

.

.

.

Pt: 1, 2, 3.

Probably the last of this series.

[bibluebutterfly]

Hoo boy. Now I've made it known multiple times on my blog that I LOATHE the whoobiefication of Vox, but lets get into why/how Vox is NOT a good person nor a baby that needs protecting and why he's all the better for it. Buckle up ladies and gentlemen, this will be long.

Now, why isn't Vox a good person? Easy. Because he (along with the other Vees) is supposed to be the bad guy of the story. Shocking, I know. Vox was NEVER intended to be a good person, and some of y'all just need to accept that.

Now for the long part: HOW is he not a good person?

Well, first of all, his literal introduction is an ad selling drones HE DESIGNED specifically for stalking,"peeping on the neighbors has never been more stylish"

Right off the bat, this tells us he doesn't care about people unless he can profit off them.

Which is also backed up by the point that he ADVERTISES Val and Vels "love potions" which are basically just roofies.

Again. This man ONLY cares about profit first and foremost, screw the people who can get hurt/SA'd by his products.

Next, he has a power of hypnosis which he is NOT hesitant to use. He can take away someones free will at a glance and uses that to his full advantage.

He's also very willing to give Val his lowest earners to shoot. Notice that he does so with no hesitance and no regret.

Also, (and most significantly) he's a huge, HUGE enabler. This guy has cameras EVERYWHERE, ESPECIALLY when Valentino is involved. He's got cameras in Val's room, Angels old room, at Vals corner of the club (which moves when Val does), there's NO WAY he DOESN'T know that Val is a r@pist.

And DESPITE that, he still sleeps with the man, is very likely in love with him, and oh yeah, FUNDS HIS WHOLE DEAL. The cameras Val uses are Voxtech cameras.

Val may be the one who does the dirty work but Vox willingly and knowingly makes a profit off of that. He doesn’t just know and do nothing, he actively HELPS Val out and obviously has no second thoughts nor regrets about it.

This is not a look of disgust or discontent, this is fondness. Genuine fondness. For Valentino. As a PERSON. Let that sink in.

There’s also the implications that Vox is jealous of the attention Angel gets from Val. Angel gets abused constantly by Val, Vox KNOWS, and still hates Angel because of the sheer fact that he takes up so much of Vals attention.

Not to mention the HEAVY implications that he gets off on watching people suffer.

“Well Vox can still do better than Val!!”

While I’m at it, I guess I should bring up the fact that BOTH Vox and Val are MASSIVE red flags.

With Val, aside from the obvious, he’s also a huge attention whore for Vox and isn’t afraid to break Vox’s property if Vox doesn’t pay attention to him. Yeah Vox gets frustrated with him, who wouldn’t be when their lover is throwing temper tantrums every other day?

With Vox, again, aside from the obvious, isn’t afraid to handle Val roughly when he’s mad, and literally screams about how watching his arch nemesis/obsession get the crap beat out of him is better than sex. Right in front of Val by the way. In regular circumstances, 9.98/10 that’s gonna get your ass dumped in a second.

Not to mention the mutual condescension ation towards each other.

And as much as fans (including myself admittedly) like to shit on Val for being a man child, Vox is literally no better.

Plus the explosive tempers.

Seriously. Vox LITERALLY cannot do better than Val. Vox is the only one who can put up with Vals BS and vice versa.

OH YEAH and lets not forget one last thing: VOX ALSO ABUSES HIS OWN EMPLOYEES.

This dude is scared of him, and it’s NOT because he’s worried about getting fired.

So yes. Vox is not nor HAS EVER been a good person.

And for me personally, I love that. I love that he’s entertaining yet awful. I love his dynamic with Alastor, and I love his relationship with Val even more.

If you’re wondering why I personally love Staticmoth, it’s because basic couple rules do not apply to them. They’re both toxic narcissistic red flags and therefore they can be as awful as they want to each other, and the other will simply shake it off. Yet there’s still heavy trust between the two (never being scared of each other) and they still have little moments together where they’re genuinely happy. It’s unique, and something I’ve never seen in media before.

Basically, if you liked Vox better when you thought he was a poor little baby being abused by Val, read a fan fiction. There’s a lot of them out there.

But people really just need to accept the fact that he’s an awful person. Always has been. He’s not better than Val by ANY means. He and Val are both evil pricks who deserve each other.

And guess what? LIKING AN EVIL CHARACTER DOES NOT MEAN YOU SUPPORT THEIR CHOICES. IT’S OKAY TO LIKE VOX EVEN IF HE IS EVIL.

But don’t go on saying that Vox was “ruined” as a character when all signs have always pointed to him being terrible.