#i had to Exercise Some Self Control

[omaano]

This project is officially out of hand - I swore 3 months ago that I won't expand it to clones territory, I really won't, and look where I am now! I also had to double down on Rex, if I'm here and have accepted defeat, as I finally got around to watching Rebels and I just love him so much with that beard, and his freckles omg TTnTT (I really really wouldn't mind seeing him in the Ahsoka show either, please)

The rest of the Mandalorian Star Wars meets Hades AU project is here

I've spent my sick day real productively, I believe :3

[ncfan-1]

I have a few wants for Mae’s story next season, with the hope that she gets her memory back relatively quickly being a pretty important one, but it’s not the only want I have for the way things go for Mae that I consider important. There’s something else that feels even more important: namely, that Mae find people in her life that deeply love and prioritize her.

There’s something very pointed going on in Season 1. “Everyone seems to want you,” Qimir says to Osha, but by comparison, nobody ever seems to want Mae. When they’re children, Sol professes a connection to Osha, and Mae is little more than an afterthought; as an adult, Sol ultimately leaves nothing for her but the worst parts of himself. Qimir is visibly fascinated with Osha from first sight, and ultimately doesn’t seem to have thought much of Mae even before she attempted to desert his side; he seems to brush her off the way you’d brush a speck of dust off of you.

And don’t get me wrong, I don’t think that Osha should have chosen to stay with Mae in Episode 8. It doesn’t make sense from a storytelling standpoint, not at this juncture. This is the culmination of Mae’s character arc this season, where she is finally able to stop clinging to Osha, to accept that what she wants more than anything is for Osha to be happy, even if she isn’t with her. For Osha to choose to stay with Mae at that point would feel wrong, for Mae has to prove to the audience that she has reached this kind of peace regarding her relationship with her sister by accepting that Osha doesn’t want to stay with her without bitterness. As for Osha, this is the culmination of her character arc this season, which has been about taking her life and her power into her own hands, and it would be strange for her to stay with Mae when Qimir has offered to help her do what she wants. It wouldn’t feel right from a storytelling standpoint; for things to make sense, they have to part ways at the end of Season 1.

But even if Osha frames it as making sure that Mae is safe from any reprisals on Qimir’s part, and even if it’s what make sense from a storytelling perspective, what it ultimately amounts to is that Osha doesn’t choose Mae, either. Nobody ever chooses Mae.

And it’s so uneven. I’m not saying I want Osha to be this alone, too—I don’t. But it’s wrenching to watch this woman who has nothing and no one at the beginning of the season still have nothing and no one at the end of the season, because even the memory of Osha forgiving her and loving her again has been taken away from her. Even her memory of the one person she had left who actually loved her has been taken away from her. She had nothing then, and she has nothing now.

Like I said, it feels pointed, the way Mae is never chosen, and what I’m hoping is that this means that it won’t be the case anymore in Season 2. Vernestra, you say, and yeah, I have high hopes for that dynamic, but no matter how things shake out between Mae and Vernestra, that is never going to be a relationship of equals, and I don’t think it’s ultimately going to be the kind of relationship where Vernestra would choose Mae, not meaningfully. Not over every other option.

That’s what I want for Mae, really. Someone who will love her deeply and choose her over everyone else, every time. With her memories and without. Knowing what she’s done, the good and the bad, knowing what she’s capable of, the good and the bad, knowing her past, knowing her faults and knowing that those faults aren’t all of who she is. Someone who would choose her without a second thought.

Because I feel like there’s going to be a scene like the one in Episode 8, where this time, it’s Mae who chooses. But Osha had more than one option. Either Qimir or Mae were viable options. Osha had a solid foundation to rely on, whatever she decided to do. But as it stands, Mae only has Osha. Osha is all Mae has. And if we do get a moment like that in Season 2, where this time it’s Osha asking Mae what she wants, if she wants to go with her or not, if Mae’s options are still “Osha” or “be completely alone,” then it's not the meaningful choice that Osha had, is it? My point is, I want Mae, whatever she decides, to have actually had a meaningful choice. To not be completely dependent on Osha for love and acceptance. To have someone else she could turn to if she decided that she didn’t want to go with Osha. To not have her choices be: Osha—or no one.

[solar-sonar]

Bruh. I am never going to catch up on my plamo backlog.

[alilarew23]

it is so easy to shift your state - let's practice!

ok beloveds.

it is tiiiiiiiime for a little exercise.

i want you to imagine real quick what it would be like to truly be a master at manifestation. yes i know we know we are all masters because we are always manifesting but! i mean a master at conscious manifestation. like, you ALWAYS get exactly what you want in the quickest and easiest way possible no matter what. you just imagine something, decide what you're going to experience next, and boom, it shows up. faster than fast. ayeeee, you did that.

ok, so now that you ARE that person, what's your experience like? what's your way of being within yourself, within the world? you're probably super fucking relaxed, even playful. you probably never worry about anything at all because what would there be to worry about when you know you always get what you want? you probably hardly expend any mental energy on your "desires" because the second you desire something you just--beep boop--claim it as yours and, well, now that's taken care of! you're probably the most present and loving person anyone has ever known. you probably have everyone around you not-so-jokingly asking you to manifest for them (iykyk). you probably feel like god. but not god who's desperately trying to assert some kind of control over a supposed-"outer" world. no. god who knows I AM the world. I AM all. how fun.

how fun indeed, that you just shifted your (drum roll please) state of being!

did that feel good? did you like being that person?

all that took place in your imagination.

you went from being an imaginal self who was maybe stressing about manifestation, watching too many tiktok vids and reading too many twitter threads, affirming affirming affirming but at what cost, to being an imaginal self who--in an instant--already had it all. and therefore could just kick it and watch a show or eat some tacos or go candlepin bowling (my new obsession) without stressing at all.

if that felt good, why not practice being that person? by which i mean consciously choosing to embody that identity until it's so natural that it no longer needs to be a conscious decision because you simply ARE it.

don't attach anything to this. just try the state on as if it's a new hoodie and see how it feels, and if you like it--you prob will, it's pretty snuggly in here!--well, keep wearing it.

[eff-plays]

There's one convo with Astarion that's one of my favorites that I haven't seen mentioned or discussed yet happens (I assume) if you have high approval with him but play a good-aligned character. (This is at 60+ approval, start of Act 2.) It's probably because it's not a romantic cutscene so it doesn't get mentioned as much as the others (or because he's racist in it and some of y'all don't like to acknowledge that he has character flaws), but I think it's vital to his character and to explain his early relationship with a good-aligned Tav.

I would like to break it down a little, step by step. Because we are all cringe here.

First, he claims to feel a connection between Tav and himself, and the reason for this is because he believes he's identified "ambition" in Tav (and I'll explain why he's wrong later, but that's mostly headcanon territory, so we'll ignore it for now).

But, there's also clearly something holding Tav back from realizing their full potential, which is their naivete.

"Just that you ... have a big heart. You like doing what's right."

(The animations and voice acting here make him look and sound so fucking condescending, 10/10.)

However, Astarion doesn't tell them this is wrong, or that he disagrees. He implies it's a flaw, but doesn't state it outright. That's dangerous territory, see, and might predispose them to get defensive and reject what he has to say next.

No, he tries (and fails in my case, but it's cute that he tries, bless him) to manipulate Tav by appealing to that big heart of theirs.

"So I was thinking, what would be the right thing to do when we get to Moonrise Towers? When we come face-to-face with whoever is controlling the parasites in our heads."

"I'm just saying there's an opportunity here. If we can control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe and liberate the world from this evil."

See what he's doing? You like doing what's right, so what would be the right thing to do? We can keep ourselves safe. Liberate the world from evil.

It's very blatant, but he's trying to appeal to Tav's good nature by framing his questionable ideas as something that will benefit the greater good, something that's morally righteous that they would agree with.

And of course, it's incredibly funny when you ask how he thinks you'll do that, and he fumbles and admits he's not a "details person," but it's also revealing.

He thinks he's found in Tav ambition, when all he's actually found is ability. Tav exercises power proficiently, while Astarion does not. If he had the authority they have, he'd let ambition drive his actions, which is why he assumes that's what drives Tav when they exercise their power. A good-aligned Tav has very little ambition, I'd argue, but they have plenty of opportunity to exercise their power, which they do when their hand is forced.

So what Astarion is saying is, in effect, hey, you have power, I have ambition. Will you please use your authority/ability to do what I want? Here's how it'll totally be for the greater good, I prommy.

This is brilliant writing, and I really applaud Larian for managing to walk that fine line of making Astarion so sympathetic while he's literally trying to manipulate the player character. Because when I first got this convo, my thought was both "wow, I adore how blatant and terrible his manipulation attempts are, it's kind of endearing" and "he's so terrified, it's genuinely quite tragic."

If we control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe. This works only somewhat as an appeal to good-aligned Tav, because it could also potentially sound very selfish, especially if Tav is the self-sacrificing sort. So notice how, when he says "liberate the world from evil", it sounds kinda tacked-on, an afterthought designed to bury his main goal, which is keep "ourselves" (i.e. himself) safe. Like, yes, this will keep us/me safe, but if you're not into that, then it'll totally help the world, too! It doesn't quite work, because he still sounds ironic and like he doesn't believe they'd be liberating anything from any evil (work that 10 Charisma, boy), but that's the intent, I think.

Does he want power for power's sake? Yes. Is he gleefully powerhungry? Absolutely. But he's also fucking terrified, and that slips through just a little bit, even behind the smug and confident facade.

He's trying to get Tav, whom he's seen exercise their power over others, to lend some of it to him, so that he may never fear anything ever again.

All of this from a short, smug convo where he admits he's too stupid to figure out how to fulfill his dreams of world domination.

God tier characterization, 10/10.

[odoraful]

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄.ᐟ (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭)

zayne is known for enjoying desserts, but there’s a sweet he hasn’t tried yet that he’s been craving.

⟡ content: zayne x gn!reader; early stage of the established relationship; first kiss; very sweet (both literally and figuratively); reader being flustered and zayne being bold; you basically live in zayne's mind 24/7; sfw; 1.6k

⟡ a/n: i was listening to day 6's song chocolate and inspiration struck me (>\\<) like "i often imagine when i kiss you, i'm curious about how it would feel... i can't control my heart, i think there's another me inside me" WAAH i thought it was fitting for zayne!

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It wasn’t typical of Zayne to be indulgent. Everything was done with careful moderation and consideration, from purchasing clothing to committing to exercise. However, when it came to desserts, all the rules he set up were scrubbed from his memory. No one suspected that the cardiac surgeon had such a strong sweet tooth. That was until his co-workers saw him at the bakery near the hospital one day, contemplating seriously about which new flavour of cake to get. To everyone’s surprise, he had ended up buying a slice of each one.

Anything sweet had a way of bypassing his self-control, which, naturally, meant you as well.

Taking a moment to himself in his office between appointments, Zayne reached for the cellophane bag of cookies sitting by his computer. The red string around the bag also held a tag with careful handwriting. It read:

Roses are red, jasmines are white, I made these with love, I hope you’ll take a bite.

Beneath the message was a cutely drawn face of you winking. Even though he had read this about 20 times since you dropped it off to him before you went to work, he still breathed a small laugh and shook his head. He unravelled the string, putting the tag safely in his pocket. The cookies inside were shaped like snowflakes and frosted blue and and white. He admired the design for a moment before taking a bite.

Imagining you preparing this made him smile. You had probably woken up earlier than usual to bake them fresh, putting on your apron with a determined look on your face. Each ingredient would be carefully measured, and as much as you would want eat the raw dough, his voice of caution would pop into your head about the dangers of uncooked eggs and flour. Once they were baking, you would finish by making the icing, dying it blue. He could imagine how you’d dip your finger into the bowl, bringing the mixture to your mouth. The blue would be a contrast against your rosy lips as you licked them to savour the taste.

That image of you stayed in Zayne’s head for longer than he intended.

He finished off a second cookie. It had a satisfying texture, the icing sugary and smooth.

Would your lips taste as sweet as this?

The thought came so naturally that he didn’t think anything unusual of its presence. There would probably still be some icing left on your lips, and he would simply lean in to—

Zayne cleared his throat.

The sound broke the silence of his office and banished the trespassing thought.

Only two weeks into this relationship, and he was fantasising like a high school boy at his work. You always had been a permanent fixture in his thoughts, but now it all felt so real. He no longer thought of you as his partner in hypotheticals. Being able to kiss you, and taste the sweetness on your lips wasn’t a dream anymore. Now, the real concern was the appropriate when and where.

He tied the bag closed, saving the rest to bring home. His break was over, and he had to continue on with work. Though he had finished his dessert long ago, the taste of vanilla icing lingered on his tongue for the rest of the day.

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”Earth to Zayne~ can you hear me?”

Zayne turned to you. Your head was titled to the side, an expectant look on your face.

Though it was a weekend morning, both of you were on the sofa completing the remaining piece of your respective work—him finishing his recommendations for a patient, and you filling out a case report for your recent hunter excursion.

“Yes, I can hear you,” he replied, matter-of-factly.

You narrowed your eyes in playful suspicion. “Hm, and what about the past two times I called you?”

Zayne adjusted his glasses. “I must have been focused on my report.”

His reason would have been convincing enough, if not for your keen senses. Despite his unchanging expression, you weren’t mistaken seeing the tips of his ears turn red.

You sorted your documents back into the folder, and placed it to the side.

“You stopped typing on your laptop and sort of stared into your screen for a minute. It was very un-Zayne like I must say,” you remarked as a half-joke.

Seeing just how observant you were towards him filled him with inexplicable pride.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, tone softening.

He paused for a moment, considering his next words. Closing the window to his document and shutting his laptop, he gave his full attention to you.

“Actually, something has been on my mind.”

With a concerned frown, you crossed your legs together, sitting in a more comfortable position to listen to him. Though, you could have never predicted what your boyfriend would say next.

”I was thinking about moving our relationship to the next stage.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. Stuttered sounds came out of your mouth. When you realised you could form no words, you covered your face with your hands. What could he possibly mean by that!? Suddenly, you felt quite conscious about where you were seated. If Zayne reached out to his left, he could easily wrap his arm around your waist. And, you knew the purple loungewear you had on wasn’t the most alluring clothing you had.

“The next stage?” you repeated in a much higher pitch than you intended.

He nodded, giving no apparent indication that he noticed the fluster you were in. He seemed too calm. Perhaps you were drawing the wrong conclusion too quickly.

“If it’s alright with you, I”—Zayne stopped his sentence short. “Could you… close your eyes for me?”

You blinked at him.

“Ohh,” you sounded with understanding, “is this some kind of surprise? Are you giving me a present?”

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “One might call it that.”

Even though his reply to your question was quite ambiguous, you happily closed your eyes. You heard a small sound to the side, guessing that he had placed something on the table. Of course, it was natural for couples to give gifts that signified the seriousness of the relationship. Maybe he bought some jewellery or a precious keepsake, you innocently pondered.

Zayne took a last look at your awaiting face. Eyes closed, lips glossy from the balm you just applied.

The sofa shifted. The weight of his body dipped the cushion beneath you. His close presence made your senses prickle. The jasmine and mint scent of his cologne now enveloped you.

When is he going to let me open my eyes?

“Zayne.”

You breathed out his name before you felt warmth against your lips.

Your eyes shot open.

Zayne had taken off his glasses (which you now realised was what that previous sound had been) and he was kissing you. Kissing you for the very first time.

Your brain and body were at odds with each other.

Your muscles froze, but you also didn’t want to pull away. Not when he initiated something you had spent so long daydreaming about, but never had the courage to do. Noticing this, Zayne raised his hand to your face. His thumb gently caressed your cheek. A silent signal that communicated a message of reassurance. It’s alright, you can relax, you seemed to hear his smooth voice in your head. Tension melted away. In exchange, your heartrate picked up. Closing your eyes once again, you let the sensation wash over you.

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Time seemed to stand still and move too fast all at once.

Zayne slid his hand down to rest at the base of your neck. Your skin felt hot against his cool fingertips.

Admittedly, he was out of practice, and the worry of doing this wrong flashed in his mind. But, when you eased into his touch, lips parting to invite more of him in, everything fell into place.

Vanilla frosting… I was right, he thought.

You were sweeter than any dessert he had tried in his life. One taste would not be enough after this. You had become a dangerous craving to him now.

Zayne withdrew, staying close to your face. Your eyes fluttered open, blinking slowly as if waking from a stupor. You were greeted with his green and amber gaze, his clear satisfaction illuminated by the morning sun pouring through the curtains behind you. Before you was a version of him you had never seen.

“Y-you’re too bold, Zayne,” you murmured.

The breath you had held during the kiss caught up to you. Your exhales lightly brushed against his skin as he stared at your lips—flushed like the colour of raspberry sorbet. He scanned every part of your expression, desperately needing to memorise your face in this moment. Everything about you was utterly perfect.

“I’m sorry for catching you off guard.”

You shook your head, the bangs of his hair brushing against your forehead. Only Zayne could blindside you with such a storybook kiss, and then apologise for it.

“You occupy my thoughts all the time,” he continued, a rasp in his voice as he whispered. “It’s unfathomable and quite distracting.”

You chuckled, the sound melodious to his ears. “I didn’t know a chief surgeon could be so easily distracted.”

Zayne smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth.

“When the surgeon has someone he likes a lot,” he closed the distance, leaning his forehead against yours, “he often wonders how sweet they would taste.”

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[eldritch-spouse]

Going to be thirsty here for a moment-. But rereading Breg's fics made me wonder how he would be if Roomie started training herself to be able to take both of his dicks in one hole. Just to let him inside and hammer away. Like, please, sir, break me. 🤲🥺

[Love when people come here like "I hope I'm not being too thirsty". Fem reader. Ignoring anatomy for this because hhhnn-]

TW: Double penetration; Slight dubcon moment.

" Listen to me Breg. "

You start, and even if you're currently beneath the breeder on the bed, you still sound like a drill sergeant. Mostly because you have to, Breg's not to be trusted when he's excited.

" I've been working up to this for a long while- "

" I know! " He interrupts, the bottom of his face still covered in drool and slick when he dove between your legs after you were done with the stretching exercises.

Breg hates that you had to use toys to size yourself up for this, but the promise that you were doing it so you could welcome both of his members made him slightly more tolerant of it. Didn't change the fact that the breeder would often sit and watch, whining in jealousy of whatever you were stuffing yourself with.

" I'll be really careful! I'll be nice- I promise angel! "

His babbling is a waste of slaver, the monster isn't even looking at you, eyeless gaze perched entirely on the sight of your inviting pussy and the way both of his cocks frame it. The breeder looks like he's thrilling himself with the show, making a horny little noise of appreciation and biting at his lower lip. It's as if he's already envisioning himself deep inside you, not having to squeeze one of his cocks between you two. It's been a fantasy of his for a long time, even you have to admit that it's... Exciting to think about.

Now though, you need Breg to focus, so you grab the sides of his head and bring it closer to yours. " I mean it, listen to me. "

His happiness is infectious, you have to turn away to hide the smile tugging at your lips when Breg simply dips to place kisses all over your face, hearing that long tail sway and swat around.

" Breg! " Mercifully, he stops. " You have to pay attention to what you're doing when you start okay? If we do this wrong, it could hurt me a lot. "

" Yes. " He rushes. " Yes, okay. "

"Good. " With a pant, you spread your legs just a tad further, figuring you couldn't possibly be in a more comfortable positions for this, especially with the support pillows helping to angle you. " Now straighten up a bit, I need to see what I'm doing. "

When the breeder does, you note the way his breathing is already sped up, how feverish he's already become. It's impressive how Breg always manages to make you feel so hot, even when you think you look like a fresh mess. Gently, you reach down to grab both of his dicks, keeping them together as much as you can, and he helps the process by scooting forward to line up against your pussy.

Feeling both tips park there is enough to get you to blow a tense exhale, knowing it's going to be a stretch and a half. In sharp contrast, Breg moans like he's in heat, looking as if his self-control is hanging by a very thin thread currently peeling itself apart.

Some hesitant seconds pass.

" Please angel- Please! I want this so bad. It's going to feel so good, let me fuck you, please! " White claws rub at your thighs comfortingly while he pleads, tail thumping impatiently on the mattress behind him. And curse him, because the breeder's shameless imploring always rises a fire in you that's hard to put out.

" I- I want you to push slowly, okay? " You caution, hold still firm on him, your spare arm clutching the sheets.

" Uhuh! "

True to his word, Breg is careful, torturously edging his cocks forward. The lube helps immeasurably, and pretty soon, both heads pop inside, making you hiss and gasp, immediately clenching at the intrusion. Massive. Fucking massive, holy shit. A wave of warmth courses through you as a pleasant shiver moments later.

" Hhn- Ohh... " He's drooling. Like actually drooling on you. " Hahh. " You can tell by the visible flexing of his legs that the only thing Breg wants to do is buck and hammer the rest of himself in, but with an almost pained grunt, he just sits there statically so the two of you can catch your breaths.

" Good- Very good. " You praise his surprising discipline. " Just keep going like that. "

He makes what you think was an affirmative "Mmn" noise and lolls his tongue out when the next couple of inches are softly rolled into you. It's insanely filling on its own, your thighs squirm and you're not sure if you want to edge away from this or even closer. Breg's instincts kick in and he holds your hips down sternly, slowly sinking more of himself in and making deep, pleased moans that wash against you like waves.

" Ngh- Deep- Slow down, give me a second. " It's stealing the breath out of you.

It takes a couple of moments before Breg's brain registers the command, but he eventually pauses with half of his cocks buried in you. He physically has to tear his gaze off the sight of you stretched around him, chest heaving as he curves to blanket you.

" You're so tight, fffuck you always are but this- " He sighs shakily over your ear, and instead of calming down enough to relax, you only tense and squeeze around him harder, making the breeder growl and whine. " Mmnph-! If you keep doing that I won't hold it, angel. Please, can I put the rest in, please? "

One of these days his begging is going to burst a blood vessel of yours. Or maybe it's the way you feel so bloated already.

" O- Okay, but then you need to let me catch up, okay? "

" Mmmf- " You think he growled there for a second. " Yes! Thank you! "

You expected him to push in slowly the same way he did up until now, though you should frankly know better by now... Breg pulls away in a preparatory motion that should have given it all away, then slams home with a force you have no words to describe.

Your stomach bounces and your lungs knock into your throat, eyeballs jostled in their sockets from the strength of his wild horse piston into your cunt. The disgraceful wet noise that echoed in your bedroom doesn't help in keeping yourself grounded. Although you didn't have enough air in your body to do much more than choke and convulse at the intrusion, the breeder makes more than enough noise for the two of you, howling in delight at the way your poor walls all but crush him in an attempt to adapt to the brute size just forced into them. You can feel him perfectly hilted into you, cockheads kissing as deep into you as they possibly can. It's an indescribable fullness that has the two of you stunted.

" Oh gods fffuck- Hahhn I'm all in. " He mumbles amidst desperate noises. " Mmn feels so good so good- I knew it'd be perfect- Love you angel. "

Both lengths throb inside you. You couldn't respond even if you wanted to.

Although you can very well sense Breg trying to rock against you minutely, he keeps his promise, studying your overwhelmed features and giving you time to welcome him properly. There's some pain, you won't lie, but it's slowly ebbing into something forgettable. The pale monster's sweet cooing and trilling help steady you as he licks your throat and lets his teeth deform slightly to place a loving bite on your shoulder.

Eventually, the breeder shifts and looks down at where the two of you are joined, finding imprints of his lengths in you. His grin is so wide and self-satisfied it looks borderline manic. A large hand comes to palp at the bump in your lower abdomen, but the sensation causes your legs to twitch and you bat his arm away.

Breg whines, a trail of drool slipping down his chin to drip onto your skin. " Can- Can I start? "

Your eyes widen a little, though you nod and take a deep breath. " G-Gentle. "

And that's all it takes.

The monster admittedly has a bit of trouble moving at first, the drag of his cocks inside you bordering on painful until fireworks start firing in your brain from all the spots he has no choice but to stimulate with every minuscule motion. The first moan you let out, throaty and helpless, makes him shiver. Wetness gradually builds, helping along with what's left of the lube, and pretty soon Breg's huffing with every thrust, making noises that almost concern you and visibly sweating. You know he's doing his best to behave right now, and you appreciate it, because both at once is... An experience.

" Ah- Ghn so full- " You choke when he fills you out again, causing the breeder to wag his tail slightly and respond with shorter, faster bursts of movement.

" Does it feel good? " He pants.

" Y- Yeah. " Putting it lightly. Your breath hitches and you cling to his arms for support, unable to help the fluttering of your pussy as you get used to this brand new size.

" Angel... " He begins, in a tone you already know means he's going to ask for something. " Hhn- I know you said gentle but... "

He bucks his hips suddenly, the two of you crying out together, pleasure and shock.

" Breg! "

" B- But I know you like it rough! " He stresses. " You clamp around me so hard, it's so hot- " Your face burns. " Come on... Just this time? "

It's not going to be "just this time", obviously.

When you don't say anything, the breeder hums and drapes over you again, legs readjusting so he can plunge somehow even deeper into you now. And with no hesitation, Breg starts well and truly railing into you.

" AH! HN- Breg?! "

You have to hold onto his neck and back, each desperate slam of his thighs on yours digging his softly barbed cocks so far up into your hole he jostles you forward. But you can't deny that it's making your eyes glaze in rabid animal pleasure, mouth opening and hips grinding back onto him as much as they can, the sloppy noise of his every slam filling you with a gross sense of glee.

You don't like to admit it, but you love being under Breg. It makes you feel small in a very arousing way, trapped under his strength, his smell, hearing how fast he breathes for you, how much his body strains to breed you stupid even if the effort is always pointless in the end. You like that he's always just as enthusiastic, that he always fucks you like it's the last time he's going to get to do it.

" S- See? " He groans, looking down at your flushed, probably disheveled face. " I know you like it- I can smell it. " And just to accentuate the point, there's a snort-like sniff when he dips his head into the crook of your neck, rising goosebumps everywhere. " Gghn- I'm- I'm not going to last too long... "

That startles you a little. Breg's always had surprising stamina. Sure, the first time he penetrated you was a bit short, but he had never been with a human before. Still, this puts an incredulous smile on your face. " R- Really? "

" Yeah- " His words melt into slurred moans, previously speedy motions now interspersed by hard grinds that have your eyes rolling slightly. " 'M sorry, you're so good- Sorry. "

" It's- It's fine. " It's hotter than it should be.

" My mate is so perfect- " He growls in-between sharp, jutting thrusts. " So nice to me- " The whimper on the edge of his voice is more than a good tell of how close he is. " I'm so lucky I get to ahhn- Put both in! "

Even if he doesn't recognize it, Breg has a penchant for this very specific type of dirty talk that makes your brain pop and crackle in a hormone-fueled static, and before you can even beg him to fill you with cum, he fucks into your stretched cunt with three dizzying pistons before flexing and coming so hard you can feel it shoot into crevices you didn't even know you had.

It's too much for such a small space, coating both you and him before it has no choice but to squeeze out of you in depraved spurts. Even if you wanted to hear Breg's rattle of ecstasy, you were too lost in your own orgasm to do so, making something akin to a desperate, sobbing mewl at the overload of sensations.

When you can focus minimally, the breeder is planting amorous kisses everywhere on your upper body, still buried hot and wet inside you. His whole face is flushed blue and he's never looked giddier, shuddering as another glob of seed escapes around his still hard cocks.

" Thank you so much, angel. I loved it! "

Oh, you can tell. " ... Don't mention it. "

Breg chirps. " Tell me when you're ready to go again. "

Why are you even surprised...

[lovemomhatepolice]

rafe cameron nswf alphabet (part 1) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Well, it depends on your relationship. If you're just a fling sex that happened at a party or friends with benefits, don't count on appropriate behavior after. Rafe can have any girl, so he doesn't pay much attention to it. However, if you're in a relationship together or in the pre-relationship phase and you've totally turned his head, oh girl. Rafe will stand on his head as long as you are happy and properly taken care of. Baths, long cuddles, and even conversation (something that wasn't popular for him before) are standard after your intercourse.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) I don't know if Rafe has a favorite body part in himself. In general, he thinks he is a handsome man - well, and he is not wrong. He likes his athletic arms and chest, because he pays a lot of attention to that when he exercises. He likes his face because he knows very well how charming he looks. And I think he appreciates his penis. It may not be the most beautiful part in the human body, but his… God. In you, he loves how small you are compared to him. Regardless of your dimensions, you will still “hide” behind him. He loves to see the difference in the size of your hands. He always laughs at how his hand could be two of yours. Well, and he loves your pussy. He has already pronounced her his property, so you can tell for yourself how much he likes that body part in you. Especially since you fit together like a puzzle (well, maybe Rafe is slightly too big, but everything will fit)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) He loves to see you in his cum. More than once he ends up on your breasts, buttocks, belly…. Wherever he could. And the very fact that you bravely swallow everything after a blowjob each time literally puts him on cloud nine. He may not be a big fan of ending up on your beautiful face, but in the mouth is something else. D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He loves that you are his pillow princess, but there are still thoughts in his head that he would like more of your dominance. The sight of you bouncing on him has sunk so deeply into his mind that he wants it more and more… E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Rafe is experienced, let's not kid ourselves. Before his relationship with you, he had plenty of girlfriends for one night or a few times. However, the fact that he wasn't more involved with any of them definitely changes things. Thanks to you, he actually learned what he really likes and that sex doesn't have to be a purely physical activity at all. But going back - he is experienced. Damn experienced and he knows what he's doing. With his hand, with his tongue, with his cock… F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Rafe's favorite position is definitely missionary or one where he is between your legs. He likes to be in control, plus he likes that he can change the angle of his entry into you, so these positions allow him to do so perfectly. In addition, the sight of your face directly in front of him, on which are painted various signs of the pleasure he is experiencing…. Your neck, which is covered in plenty of hickeys in no time. And your lips, which are locked in a kiss. Yup G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) He's not some super playful during sex. Rafe focuses on intimacy and closeness, not silliness. He's not likely to be able to fool around. Of course, there are moments when you giggle or say something funny, but mostly your intercourse is focused on the romance of the moment. H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Rafe is all shaved up at the bottom. He hates hair that would unnecessarily get in the way. And he thinks having them is not very hygienic. As for you - he would also prefer you to be completely shaved or at least properly trimmed. I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

At first, for Rafe, sex was only something physical that could give him vent to his excitement or anger. Only with you did he discover that it could also be something else, which is why he is just learning. However, over time you began to notice that he was giving you more and more compliments during intercourse or wasn't afraid to make noises. So yes, you are on the right track. Maybe soon he will even leave rose petals on the bed or light candles?

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) He doesn't do it often because you are side by side usually, however, he has something he really likes about masturbation. He likes it when you see him do it. Sometimes of himself he just makes you watch and counts down how long you can last without touching him. And vice versa - you do the same. K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) I think Rafe has a lot of kink. But such a strongly dominant one is breeding kink. Especially with the death of Ward and Rafe's decision to move out of Tannyhill and any homes that had ties to his family. Yes, this is the time when the oldest of the Cameron siblings sees himself in the family with you and your children. He himself doesn't know what kind of father he would be and the thought scares him a little. But the mere fact of seeing you in your pregnant belly with his child, Mother, it drives him so much. L = Location (favorite places to do the do) There is no suitable place for Rafe. In fact, he could fuck you even in an open space in the park if you wanted him to. You like to experiment, so your sex takes place there and then when you feel the urge. However, let's not kid ourselves, most often it takes place on your bed or in the shower. Or in the kitchen or living room… M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) There is no particular thing that after excites you in a unique way, but if you just have an attitude, Rafe feels the need to punish you for it. He hates it when you tease him, but at the same time it excites him so much that he repeatedly lets you do it. Oh, and of course the skimpier dresses he buys for you himself.

A/N: next part is already here! i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open!

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[3d-wifey]

NSFT Alphabet: MK1 Johnny Cage Edition

A/N: Wrote this to hold you Johnny girls (gender neutral) over until I finish that smut 😙 Plus, I find writing these Alphabets for a character in preparation to write full-fledged smut for them is very helpful in capturing accurate characterization. It's almost like a writing exercise. I've written three different ones so far and I tried to keep them in character, if that makes sense. Like, I tried putting their personality and language in it. Okay, enjoy.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Talking. So much talking. But, honestly, did you expect anything else? As he’s pulling out, as he’s carrying you to the shower, as you’re washing his hair. And when it inevitably leads to shower sex, he’s talking then too. You’ll never meet a man who loves the sound of his own voice more than Johnny Cage.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

Uh, how ‘bout the artillery canons strapped to his arms? C’mon, I mean, who wouldn’t want a ticket to the gun show? 

Face. Is saying your face too cliche? Hear him out! You want specifics? He can do specifics! He likes the dimples that pop in your cheeks when he finally gets you to laugh at one of his jokes, the little crease you get between your eyebrows when he’s pissed you off, the adorable way your nose scrunches up when he does that one thing with his tongue that drives you crazy. See? Specifics!

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

Pull out game…very weak. Embarrassingly weak, actually. He swears he’s never had this problem before. His ability to pull out in the nick of time has always been something he’s prided himself on. However, he vastly underestimated just how good you’d feel. He’s clean, you’re clean, and, hey! You both prefer the feeling of hitting it raw, the way nature intended it. However, your pussy’s like wet kryptonite. And he’s only a man. A very awesome man, but a man nonetheless. So birth control it is! Or, if you’re turned off by all the side effects, he can be talked into a vasectomy. It’s either that or give up the sweet, sweet embrace of your walls when he’s balls deep. 

On second thought, that vasectomy sounds pretty tempting. It is reversible, right?

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Johnny would leak his own sex tape. Plain and simple. He’d leak it from a burner account and watch the chaos ensue. There’s no shame in his game. Hey, it’s ranked the Number 1 Celebrity sex tape for a reason.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Is this even a question? Actors, singers, models, directors, producers. He’s THE Johnny Cage, Hollywood royalty. He’s fucked actual royalty. You’re in good hands—as long as he cares about you. If you’re a random hookup, then he’s not really working for your pleasure here. You’ll definitely cum, but it’s mainly a pit stop on his way to the finish line. 

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Reverse cowgirl. Johnny’s an ass man, through and through. He loves fucking up into you and watching your ass ripple with both of your movements. And he loves holding onto you. Big hands grabbing your waist, hips, thighs, and especially your ass. He also loves seeing you both in action. So reverse cowgirl + some artfully placed full-length mirrors = Him wrapping his arms around your stomach, rubbing at your clit, and forcing you to watch yourself as you desperately grind against him, AKA Heaven. 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Oh, c’mon. It isn’t like him to be serious in any situation. He’s gotta slip a joke in every now and then. Get it? Slip a joke in?

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Wax on, wax off, baby. Smoother than a seal. Or, uh, some other sexy, hairless animal. You mourn when he waxes his happy trail. 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

You’ll be surprised by how charming he can be. It’s not all jokes and great orgasms. It’s also loving touches, reverent compliments, and amazing orgasms.

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

He’s got a healthy libido and a pretty stacked schedule, so sometimes a quick introduction between his hand and mini Johnny can’t be helped. But he’s also got a smoking hot girlfriend (you), so jerking off by himself is a rare occurrence. 

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Exhibitionism. What can he say? He’s a performer at heart and he loves an audience. But nothing crazy, just your average celebrity having sex on a yacht that’s in full view of the paparazzi. Or the occasional jerking off with you telling him how fast or slow to go. Oh, and you can’t forget about the sex tapes. Man, with the amount of videos he has of the two of you going at it, he could start an archive. You two have definitely ended up on the cover of TMZ and the front page of Twitter.

Voyeurism. But only for you. He’s enthralled by anything you do, including how many of your much smaller fingers will you stuff inside yourself to replicate the feeling of him stretching you wide. It usually leads to you begging for him to touch you, something else he’s in love with. Nothing wrong with a little hands-on audience participation.

Dirty talk. Normally, dirty talk is kind of basic to any old romp in the hay, but Johnny, being Johnny, puts his own Cage flair on it. Those corny oneliners somehow translate to the perfect thing to say to get you hot. He’s like Shakespear, if Shakespear was good-looking and not a virgin. You know what they say: everything sounds better when you’re horny. Who says that? Uh…

Fighting/Sparing which always leads to blood play. Winning a match gets Johnny’s blood pumping. The adrenaline of escaping death and the crowd hyping him up. And the crux of it all is you who happens to get especially wet when he comes to you covered in blood, grinning with a glint in his eyes that’s poorly hidden behind his blood-speckled sunglasses (a glint that many may describe as mania). And it certainly goes the other way. Watching you kick ass makes him harder than a diamond. Sparing together is a no-brainer that leads to fucking on his gym floor, or, honestly, wherever you two fall. Lui Kang must regret making you two his champions in this timeline with how often he’s walked in on you two. Offering to let him join probably doesn’t soften the blow, but, hey, it’s only polite.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

In his mansion. In one of his lavish beds, or pressed up against the wall-length windows. In his Bentley or in the back of his limo. He’s a big fan of fingering you under the table at an award show and then fucking you in a bathroom at said award show when he should definitely be on stage presenting. For whatever reason, walking the red carpet always gets him worked up. And going to the club together always ends with you riding him in the VIP section.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Such a complex question for a man with complex taste. I’m joking, Johnny is so easy. It’s actually ridiculous how easily you turn him on. Laugh at his joke, hard. Complement his acting or fighting, hard. Running your fingers through his hair/scratching his scalp, hard. Feel him up/tease him in any context, hard. You’re covered in blood after a win, hard, hard, rock hard.

“Are you King Midas? Cuz you make me hard with just one touch.”

“That one was actually kinda clever.” 

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Nothing too gross. He’s all for sloppy, messy sex, but he has to draw the line somewhere. There’s nasty 👁🫦👁 and there’s n a s t y 👁👄👁. 

He likes to tease/do the opposite of what you say, but if you’re not 100% on board with what he’s doing, then he’s stopping it then and there. Remember: there’s nothing sexier than explicit consent!

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Preferred to receive before he started dating you, and only ever had the urge to go down on someone if he had been drinking before. After you started dating, he definitely loved it whenever you gave him head, but he didn’t realize how much pleasure he could get from giving you pleasure. 

He loves sloppy head, giving and receiving, so if you weren’t wet before, you definitely will be after he gets his mouth on you. 

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on when and where you’re doing it. And if you two are “allowed” to be doing it in said place.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Big fan of the guy who came up with the idea of quickies, enough said. 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

C’mon. He’s the leading source of your sex tapes getting leaked. I mean, how do you think the paps keep finding you in compromising positions? A little tip-off to them while you take his tip, ha!

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

It’s like he runs off horsepower, good God. If you’re trying to go until he’s tired out, it’s gonna be a couple of rounds until then.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He’s a fan of dildos. Specifically, watching you fuck yourself with one. “Go ahead, baby. Show me how bad you want me.” And show him, you do. God, you know how to put on a show. But you shouldn’t have to settle for some random dildo. You’re with the Cage man, and he would get a mold of his dick made for you. And they say he’s not romantic. 

Strap-on. That’s it. And he takes it well ;).

Remote-controlled vibrators, for you and him. Hell, let’s make a game out of it. See who can last the longest in public, there are no losers! 

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

His version of teasing is doing the opposite of what you said to do. You want him to speed up? He’s slowing down and making sure you feel every inch inside you. Oh, keep his hands above his head? You gonna make him? He’s a total brat, but you knew what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to date him.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Heh, yeahhh. He’s real loud. Moans, groans, screams, whimpers. You name it, he’s doing it. It’s the performer in him. And because he knows you like how he sounds.

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

Tattoos? Sexy as hell. If you were to ever get his name tattooed on you (preferably a tramp stamp), then you might as well start planning what flowers you want in your bouquet. I could see him getting your name tattooed on him too. Probably on his pelvis, in the middle of his v-line. In case anyone ever needs a reminder of who his dick belongs to.  

Type of guy to dedicate a Mortal Kombat match to you, and then lose. Ah, I’m joking. He’d beat his opponent’s ass all because you promised him victory sex if he won and he doesn’t take victory sex lightly.

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s got an 8.5–8.9 inch hog, shower not a grower. Little Johnny isn’t so little. There’s a reason he’s alright with doing full-frontal nudity if the scene calls for it. They’ve had to CG out his bulge in post-production in every Ninja Mime movie. It’s not his fault spandex happens to be the clingiest material known to man.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Higher than Mount Fuji. He’s a stallion in his prime with a gorgeous girlfriend. His spare time is filled with filling you. And you both tend to feed off of each other, so all it takes is for one of you to be the tiniest bit turned on, and then, boom! You’re both desperately grinding against each other in a supply closet. Ain’t that just the way?

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Depends. He’s kind of like a dog that needs to tire himself out before he can sleep. 

Click for a Johnny Cage-shaped surprise👀👀

[fbfh]

I've literally only seen the pilot of game of thrones and I already wanna fuck Jon Snow so fuckin bad. "oooh but his oath, but his vows" I DON'T CARE. COCK IN MOUTH RN. fucking look at this

WHY DOES GOD KEEP SENDING ME THESE MISERABLE WET LITTLE BRUNET MEN WITH BIG OLD COW EYES AND EMPATHIC DOGMATICALLY LOYAL SENSABILITIES. STOP RIGHT NOW send more. bc I'll be so astronomically for real with you. this man pulls up on a horse with a fuckin direwolf puppy following him along fully believing he's its mama???? fold. instantly fold. no one can not fold at that. he's channeling all his yearning and desires into being loyal and noble and it fucking HURTS to look at him and know he's never had the sloppiest most earth shattering fucking top of all time. I'm thinking about a lot of things right now, mostly how good the tension of "I shouldn't do this I shouldn't do this I shouldn't do this" running through his mind while his heart betrays him and he moves closer to you is. the kicker is, he hasn't even done anything yet. he's maybe knelt and kissed your hand at most, but good GOD did it get you wet. because you can tell how much he's holding back. you can tell how badly he's aching for more, and the self control he's exercising makes you want to see him fucking snap. but you know he won't somehow it just makes it better and better. like you breathe in his direction and he's trying to get rid of impure thoughts unbecoming of a brother of the night's watch. and it's all self inflicted.

thinking also about Jon being assigned as your bodyguard for some reason. maybe you're of nobility, maybe you were requested to be delivered to some king or other, but now it's Jon's job to take you through the snowy wastelands of the north and deliver you safely to your destination. he quickly realizes that there is no way he'll be able to maintain his professionalism (he does, he just feels like he's throwing caution to the wind cause you make him blush). sitting you in front of him on his horse? you keep resting your head against his chest and speaking so sweetly to him to pass the time!!! sitting you behind him? your arms are around his waist!!!!!!!! he's losing it girlfriend!!!!! don't even get me started on making camp in some cave for the night to wait out a particularly bad snowstorm. you stay close to him at his insistance, knowing it's the only way for you both to stay warm. You're snuggled up in his arms under his cloak looking so sweet in the firelight. something howls in the distance, and you jump, moving closer to him. he realizes you feel protected by him. not in a professional guide-through-the-north way, in a way that you choose. you feel so deeply in your subconsious that if anything were to happen, you'd be safe in Jon's arms. you look up to him, feel protected and safe with him. you feel safe with him. and motherfucker if that doesn't stir something uncontrollable and irreversable in his chest. he knows he shouldn't, but his heart betrays him, and his arms wrap firmly around you, holding you close.

"It's alright," he murmurs so gently, "it's only the wind."

[denpa-dere]

hello and welcome to my house arrest series. this is going to be super self-indulgent and a little different than my last couple of fics. updates linked below.

___

afab!mc x polyship

description: NSFW (though the intro is just suggestive), you are confined to your room for your own protection. But how long will that last when the only thing standing between you and your housemates is a door and some willpower?

warnings: straight up breeding kink fodder. she/her pronouns and afab!mc descriptions. a little humiliation if you squint.

|| Intro || Mammon || Asmo (mini) || Levi || Satan (mini) || Beel || Lucifer (mini) || Asmo || Belphie (mini) || Belphie || Barbatos (mini) || Satan || Diavolo (mini) ||

___

So, about that morning...

You opened and closed your mouth once, then twice. You swallowed thickly.

“What..?” The question trailed off into the ether.

Across from you sat Lucifer, brow furrowed and eyes screwed shut, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, looking very much like he’d rather sink into the floor than continue this conversation.

“I’m aware how uncomfortable this situation may be,” He said, feeling a migraine brewing behind his eyes, “But your cooperation is necessary. We can’t risk any unknown quantities around you, right now.”

Unknown quantities. How tactful. You laughed despite yourself. Lucifer’s head shot up in response, face a mix of equal parts frustration and concern.

“It’s for your own protection,” He said, sympathetic but no less firm.

To your credit, your compliance was never really in question. Lucifer was certain you very well understood the dangers of being around others in your current state. Though he would never admit such a thing, this lecture was almost as much for himself as it was for you.

Your face was flushed, eyes wide, expression inscrutable. You stared into your lap at your upturned hands, closing and unclosing them.

“Can I… Can I at least go about the house like normal?” You asked.

Good question, Lucifer thought, hoping you hadn’t caught the briefest flash of a frown cross his features.

On one hand, confining you to your room would definitely lower morale; not just with you, but sending a ripple effect throughout the household. Besides, what sort of message would that send to you about your safety in their company? 

On the other hand, breakfast had nearly turned into an all-out war.

Lucifer stood and sighed, moving to make his exit, “Just… try to keep your wandering to a minimum. Please.”

You nodded eagerly, thankful for the leniency. Then, you were alone.

You smell different. Something in the way Beel had looked at you made you suddenly acutely aware of how small you were.

The memory sent a cold rush through you. You grabbed a pillow, holding it against yourself for comfort. Even though you hadn’t done anything wrong, you felt exposed. Could you even bring yourself to face them after this morning? 

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand beside you. Your finger hesitated over the screen.

The memory of Asmo’s laughter echoed in your skull, “Oh, you poor thing!”

You felt your stomach drop. Today felt like an exercise in humiliation.

The brawl in the dining room replayed in your mind.

You tapped the message notification.

Satan: I’ll take notes for the classes you miss.

Oh, well, that wasn’t so bad, actually. You tapped out a quick “Thank you!” in reply, feeling a little silly for getting yourself so worked up. These were your friends.

How was anyone supposed to know that going off your birth control would change your scent so dramatically? Sure, demons had heightened senses, but something so minor as a hormonal shift? That you were ovulating?

You fell back on your bed and covered your face with your hands. It was a small comfort when you felt like you couldn’t hide.

You could all be mature about this, right?

[kittievampire]

ok so i was on nightbringer and i get beel as a surprise guest.. and idk what they put in him for this game , cause one of his reactions was “You wanna play huh?” and i GASPED.. i mean gasped. dirty dirty thoughts r running through my mind right now. some of them being , does nightbringer era beel like brats..

does he like to play with bratty mc

and how would this line escalate…😫

immediately came to u cuz luv your writing 💞💞

Now I ain't gonna sit here and say this didn't do something to me because it fuckin did. I'm jealous nowwwwwww

Where's my "You wanna play huh?" WHY CAN'T I HAVE NICE THINGS UGGGHHHHH

ANON SHAREEEEEE

Lemme see what I have in my bag, my dear~

Click here if you wanna request

"You Wanna Play, Huh?"

Warnings: Smut, Brat Tamer! Beelzebub x Bratty! Reader, Fem! Reader, Spanking, Overstimulation, Creampie

Enjoy.

Beelzebub was always so innocent.

He was the very definition of a gentle giant; He was aware of his big stature, but he was always careful with you. That was what you loved, what made you fall for him.

You would try to subtly drop hints that you liked him, but he wasn't exactly one to catch on to non-verbal cues or innuendos. This, along with your shyness, led to you concealing your feelings and lusting for him in the privacy of your own room.

Every now and then, you'd walk in and catch him next to your bed, panting heavily and sweating profusely. When asked why he was there, he'd mumble something about a delicious smell and shuffle out of there with a blush on his face.

Once you got sent back in time, however, you were met with a slightly different Beelzebub. He was still innocent with a black hole for a stomach, but something was off. Something you couldn't put your finger on. Maybe it was the way the atmosphere changed when you teased him in private; Maybe it was the way he'd stare at you while at the dinner table, drooling, right after you'd finished masturbating.

You weren't entirely stupid, you could put two and two together, (Belphegor also made a good wingman when it came to stuff like this) and you knew that the Avatar of Gluttony had fallen for you. Not only that, but you could tell that he wanted you as well. Thus, you'd tease him, purposefully.

Perhaps that was your mistake.

_

When you offered to accompany Beelzebub to the gym for a nice workout, he was ecstatic, to say the least. He could finally spend some time with you, and you'd be doing one of the activities he loved to partake in! Maybe the two of you could go to Hell's Kitchen afterward for a nice meal; The thought made his mouth water.

There was also the guilty pleasure of seeing you in your workout clothing, which just so happened to be short shorts, a workout bra, and tennis shoes, that he got to indulge in. It was a win-win!

Of course, he didn't want to just gawk at you the whole time, he wanted to be more respectful of you, so he decided to busy himself with lifting weights, so he wouldn't be tempted to look at you. However, that quickly backfired when you offered to video him.

"Oh, I had a friend who worked out all the time. He'd have me film him working out so he could see what needed changing. You should start doing it, I heard it's really helpful." The way you batted your lashes at him while you said this made him melt. Surely you had no ill intentions, right? It was just filming. Maybe it truly would end up being beneficial.

For some odd reason, the way you were walking around him slowly with a D.D.D. in hand made him a little nervous. The sweat that had started to gather on his brow was not only his body's reaction to the exercise but also his self-control slowly leaving his body droplet by droplet. It wasn't only the fact that you were sexy, but also the fact that he loved you. You cared for him in a way that was different from the way his brothers would, a way that made him blush and feel less hungry. Hungry for food, at least.

Beel wasn't one to question your decisions or your actions, he always knew that you were intelligent and knew what you were doing. That being said, the sin couldn't help but wonder why you decided to climb on top of him while he was on the weight bench and start straddling him.

Now, he was in a tough spot. He shuddered a bit, struggling to keep a solid grip on the barbell. "W-Wha—?" You batted your lashes at him once more, lowering the phone just a little. "Keep going! I just wanted to get a better angle!"

Beel, even with all his self-control, could only manage to do a few more reps before he felt himself become increasingly tense in his nether regions. Thus, he carefully pushed the barbell back up and onto the j hooks, sliding down a little and sitting up. You jumped in surprise, a small pout forming on your lips as you paused the video. "Why'd you stop, Beel? You were doing so well, I thought you were gonna do more sets," You asked, placing a hand on his exposed chest as you leaned forward, pushing your body closer to his.

The Avatar of Gluttony jumped, swallowing a lump in his throat. "I'm hungry," He managed to sputter out, lifting his hand to help you off of him. However, his hand landed on your hip and you gasped, pushing your body against his, breasts squishing against his chest. Beel flinched once more, clenching his teeth as he felt his cock twitch. You placed your arms on his shoulders, looking up at him with your doe eyes and making sure he got a nice view of your breasts from above. "Beelzebub, did you mean to touch me there?" You asked softly, a blush present on your face.

This caused Beelzebub to go red in the face, turning away from you. "Sorry, I didn't mean to. Can you... get up? I wanna go to Hell's Kitchen." At this point, the sin was desperate to get away from the situation, praying to Diavolo that you wouldn't notice his erection pushing up against your ass.

However, Beel was way too big not to notice.

And, unfortunately for him, you seem to notice this. You flinched and turned your head to the side slightly, pushing your ass against the bulge in his shorts. You could feel your brain going a mile a minute as you began to process his size. Biting your lip, you looked back up at him through your lashes. "Beel, what's that poking me, hm?" You asked softly, hips slowly beginning to move in a circular motion.

Beelzebub immediately gripped your hips to still you, causing a whine to erupt from your throat. "H-Hey! Why'd you—?" "Stop messing with me," He interrupted, magenta eyes peering down at you as his voice dropped an octave. You were a bit startled by the change in atmosphere, quickly taking a glance around the gym to see that there were only two other demons in there, both with earbuds in and focused on their workouts. The demon before you saw that you were distracted and immediately pulled you closer, the intimacy making you whimper. "I'm trying so hard, MC—" He pulled your hips closer to his, leaning closer so that his lips were next to your ear. "To control myself around you, but you just have to act out in public like this, don't you?"

You scoffed, turning your head away. "I don't know what you're talking about! You're the one with the perverted mind, not me," You said, a little too much attitude in your voice than he liked. He quirked a brow, pushing your hips down so that your clothed cunt would grind against the bulge in his pants. This made you gasp and whimper softly.

"So, you wanna play, huh?"

_

Now, you were pretty convinced that Beelzebub wasn't as innocent as you'd initially thought. At least, not at this very moment.

Loud moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin bounced off the walls and right back into your own ears as you lay there, face almost completely buried in the pillow as Beelzebub pounded into you from behind. He was so fucking huge, your poor little pussy was struggling to take him, but he thrust into you at an angle that made any discomfort unimportant. He held your hips in a vice-like grip, saliva running down his chin as he heard the lewd squelching of your soaking wet cunt in response to him drilling his cock into you.

Beelzebub grunted, halting his movements for a moment as he lifted your hips up toward him. "Keep them up," He huffed out, pulling himself out about halfway before slamming back in. You squealed into the pillow as you felt him hit your most sensitive spot, hips shaking as your legs were nearly giving out.

"P-Please, Beel, t-tired," You moaned out pleadingly. He lifted his hand slowly, bringing it down and delivering a hard slap to your ass. "You wanted this, didn't you?" He asked mockingly, squeezing the flesh of your ass that had gone red from his own hand. "Need more of your cum, MC. Gimme more." Beel delivered another harsh slap to your ass, right cheek glowing a bright red. Tears began to well up in your eyes. "Beel!" You cried out as his heavy balls slapped against your thighs.

The Avatar of Gluttony was drooling all over you, wanting more, needing more of you. He wasn't satisfied with just the one orgasm, no, he needed more. Three rounds in, of course, you're tired, but he can't stop.

You feel a shudder run down your spine, gripping the sheets below you as you feel your walls flutter around his length, another orgasm hitting you like a wave. Beel grunted as he felt your juices coating his cock, his thrusts becoming quicker with the additional lubrication. "Beel," You whined out. "B-Break, please?"

Beelzebub buried himself deep inside of you, tip pushing against the spongey spot that made you see stars. "I didn't cum yet, MC," He said, a playful frown forming on his face. "You wanted to be a brat, so I'm treating you like one. Brats don't get rewards, MC." He leaned forward, nibbling gently at your shoulder as you let out another loud cry of ecstasy. His pounding was merciless, your legs hanging on by a thread, just about giving out at this point.

You couldn't think straight, couldn't even hear or see properly. All you could think about was how roughly Beel was taking you and how much you absolutely adored it. If he could take you like this all the time, you may have to become accustomed to being sore.

"Are you getting distracted again?" Beelzebub asked, pulling his cock almost all the way out, the tip barely touching the heat of your insides before fully sheathing himself once more. It felt like the wind was knocked out of you, and your mouth dropped open, a silent scream escaping your lips. You heard him start to grunt and groan, hips stuttering as his thrusts became more and more desperate.

Beel lowered his hand, beginning to rub the bundle of nerves that he knew made you squirm. "B-Beelzebub!!" You whined out, walls squeezing his length ever so tightly. The Avatar of Gluttony began to pound into you even faster, grunting the phrases "Cumming" and "MC," over and over again like a mantra.

Before you could even register the approach of your climax, you felt yourself cry out the demon's name, feeling as he pushed himself deep inside of you, tip kissing your cervix as he came. You could feel his seed filling you up to the brim, a broken groan coming from the sin on top of you.

He thrust a couple more times to ride out his orgasm before slowly pulling out of you, his cum spilling out immediately as his cock left your cunt. Shakily, you allowed yourself to collapse into the sheets, closing your eyes as you felt him snuggle up behind you.

New knowledge of kinks had been discovered, maybe you could use this to your advantage. Well, that was something to leave for another day.

Now, you were attempting to figure out how the hell you were able to satisfy the Avatar of Gluttony. It was a nearly impossible feat, but you managed.

Perhaps you'll reward yourself with some sweets later.

"MC, can we do it again?"

Hope you liked it, anon!

Masterlist

[sunarc]

Rule Break

Synopsis: Nanami has one rule: never fuck a client. You may just be his one exception

Cw: trainer Nanami, semi public sex, reader is a big flirt, oral f receiving, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding,2.9k words

Nanami would consider himself a professional man. He knows his job can get a bit hot and sweaty sometimes, but he tries his best to keep his composure. He has a rule of his own: never fuck a client. It seems like a silly rule, but one would be surprised by how many trainers have had relationships with their clients. He likes to think he’s great at his one rule that is, until he takes you on as a client.

Something about you makes all the blood in his body rush to his lower half. You’re so beautiful, he whispers to himself each time you come in for a gym session. He’s never known himself to lose composure the way he does when you’re near.

“One more squat for me, you got this." His praise filled your ears as you lowered into your last squat.

“That’s it, good job” His clapping echoed in the half-empty gym as you finished putting the weight down.

You smiled at the tall, muscular man before high-fiving him. Nanami wouldn’t be wrong in believing you had an interest in him. Your eyes were always glued to him in ways he couldn’t really describe. The way you would lean into him when he showed you how to do something, or how you always stayed a bit later, asking him questions he was sure you already knew the answer to.

"So, Mr.Nanami, I was wondering if you could show me some more exercises for the legs.” You continued to explain how you wanted to strengthen them.

Nanami wanted so desperately to focus on your words, but his eyes could only seem to follow the sweat that dripped from your neck down to your breast. The zipper to your sports bra was down just enough so he could see how the fabric squeezed your chest. His mind was lost in thought, thinking of what it would feel like to push his length between them. He couldn’t help but think of how pretty they would look covered in his cum. Would you want a taste, or would you just let him cover you in his seed? Or maybe you’d prefer if he-

“Mr.Nanami?” You asked, titling your head with a faux look of innocence. “The leg workout?”

"O-ofcourse, I-um, yes, my apologies I have a lot on my mind today,” he excused his zoning out.

Nanami shook his head, ashamed at how yet again he had lost self-control. He was never like this, really. He almost wanted to plead with you to find another trainer. How could he possibly focus when his mind was constantly being plagued with thoughts of what you’d look like without your pink matching gym set. 

His body carried him over to a leg machine. He took a deep breath, trying to gather himself as he set up the machine to show you how to use it.

“I’m going to teach you about cable kickbacks.” He began lifting his leg to show you an example, “Now this focuses on the glutes."

His fingers pointed to the muscle. His eyes watched as your gaze scanned down his form to his toned butt with a soft smirk. He’d just brush it off as your excitement for a new workout.

"Alright, you try." His voice wavered, and you could swear there was a pink blush covering his cheeks.

You followed as he did, replicating the exercise. His hand smoothed against your lower back, angling your body.

“You feel it?” His voice was deep as he questioned you. You nodded your head, too focused on the pain of the exercise to speak.

"Yeah, just like that." His palm pushed deeper into your lower back, while his other hand focused on holding your core to keep you steady. Your eyes met his, and you could feel his gaze shift from professional to lust-filled. 

“Is that how you want me to do it, Mr.Nanami?” you questioned.

Anyone passing by would assume the question was referring to the workout, but from the look in your eyes, Nanami knew it had nothing to do with your actions.

"Yeah,” he breathed, his eyes still focusing on yours. “Just like that."

Nanami was very professional, but he’d be damned if he was going to miss matching your energy. You finished your last rep with ease. The tension in the air between the two of you was thick. The room was now empty, with everyone gone or preparing to leave.

“I guess our gym session is over. Would you care to walk me to the locker room? I have a few more questions before I go.” You said with an innocent smile.

Nanami nodded his head. Of course, he’d be willing to walk you. Any extra time he could get to spend with you, he’d take it.

You walked at a slow pace as you questioned him about what protein shakes he liked the best. Nanami had heard these questions before, but he’d be more than willing to entertain you for a bit more. You made it to the locker room and turned to face his tall figure.

“You did really great today, I’ll see you tomorrow for arms,” he said, giving a pinched smile before turning to walk away.

"Wait,” you called, grabbing his wrist.

He turned around wide-eyed

“I was wondering if you would be able to help me stretch before I go,” you whispered, suddenly feeling small at the advancement.

Nanami’s brain was wracked at the question, wondering if he should. What harm could a little stretching do? After all, he is your trainer, it’s a trainer's job to help their clients.

"Of course, I can help you do some stretches before I close up.” He led you to a room with privacy windows in the back.

The room was one you had never been in before. There were mats all over with a mirror wall. You picked up a mat and placed it near his own.

“We’ll start with a forward fold." He stood behind you with his hand on your waist while he guided your upper half downward. You folded into the stretch and pushed your ass against him. Nanami let out a low grunt before helping you to come back up. Your back pressed against his chest. You stared into the mirror, watching how he looked down at you with his lip between his teeth.

“What’s the next stretch, Mr.Nanami?”

His hands danced against your waist as he helped you maneuver through each stretch. Nanami’s breath grew heavier with each stretch. You seemed to be in a teasing mood today as you continued to press your ass against him each chance you got. Nanami didn’t think he’d be able to last much longer. The amount of pent-up energy in him was beginning to be too much to bear.

“Just lay down for me,” he whispered.

His hand dragged against your leg as he lifted it up and pressed it into your chest. He leaned his body down onto your leg to push you deeper into the stretch.

“I’m really flexible if you can't tell,” you giggled as you came face to face with him.

You were going to be the death of him. He could feel a bulge growing in his shorts, and he knew you could feel it too.

“How does that feel?” he asked, breathing in your scent.

You were so close to him. His eyes drifted down to your plump lips, memorizing the way your lips curved so perfectly into a smirk.

“It feels really good, sir,” you said softly. "Harder, please,” you were daring him. Your words were laced with nothing but pure filth.

Nanami leaned deeper into you, so close that his nose was almost pressed against yours.

“Like that.” His voice was nearing a growl.

He had a rule, one that he was willing to break for the first time.

“Just like that, sir."

Nanami silently asked himself for forgiveness because his next action would be very unlike himself. He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. They were just as soft as he had imagined. You tasted sweet. Your lips danced against his in a hungry, passionate way. His hand moved to your waist, holding your body still as he grinded down on you. You let out a soft moan at the feeling of his clothed length pressing against your core. 

“Fuck” he whispered as he pulled away.

You let out a whimper at the sudden loss of his touch. He stood up and covered his flustered face as he tried to make a gap.

“Your rule, Kento,” he breathed out the words to himself.

You sat up on your elbows as you watched him pace back and forth.

"God, you don’t understand what you do to me,” he groaned as he turned to you, dragging his hands down his face.

You sat silently with a smirk playing on your lips.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?" He ranted. His nose flared up as he stared at you. "I have a rule, you know.”

You sat up on your knees to face him.

“We don’t have to call it breaking the rule.” You played with the zipper on your sports bra, slowly dragging it lower. “Why don’t we just call it a little after-hour stretching?”

Nanami walked over to you, closing the gap.

“Just some stretching between a trainer and his trainee, right?” He was making an attempt to convince himself; it was not a rule break. He’s just being a kind trainer and helping his client stretch in all ways possible.

“Just a trainer and his trainee,” you repeated his words, and Nanami kneeled to be at eye level with you.

His hand softly grabbed your neck, pulling you in for a kiss. It had only been seconds, and he somehow missed the way you tasted. His tongue slipped past your lips and massaged against yours. You were everything Nanami dreamed you would be. The kiss was something he wanted to relive for the first time over and over again.

He bit his lip as his heart pounded in his chest. His cock strained against his shorts. He wanted to memorize every part of you, from the way your chest rose as he squeezed your breast to the way your hips rocked back and forth, desperate for friction.

“Lay down for me, pretty.”

Wanting to please him, you did as you were told. Nanami freed his cock from his shorts, and your eyes went wide. He was big. You were almost worried he wouldn’t fit inside. He stroked his cock a few times before straddling you.

He pushed his cock underneath your bra and squeezed his length between your breasts. He let out a low groan as his cock squeezed between the tight space. 

“Oh fuck baby,” his eyes fluttered shut as he inched his cock back and forth.

You let out a soft giggle and stuck your tongue out, swiveling around the tip of his cock each time he rocked his hips forward.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groaned. “Taking my cock so well,” he breathed.

“You think you deserve my cock stretching your tight hole?” he asked.

You nodded your head as your eyes looked up at his dark ones.

“Use your words. Closed mouths don’t get fed.” His words were demanding.

“Please fuck me, sir. I need it so bad,” you whimpered. “My pussy’s so wet thinking of you,” your words died down into a whisper as if embarrassed by the lewdness of it all.

Nanami chuckled as he unzipped your bra, freeing your chest. He leaned down and placed your nipple between his teeth, nibbling and sucking softly. You chanted out soft pleas as his tongue swiveled around your nipple.

His tongue moved against your skin, sucking and kissing as he inched down towards your core.

“Don’t get shy on me, pretty girl.” His fingers curled underneath the fabric of your tights, pulling them down to expose your core. “You were just begging me to stretch you out.”

He placed a soft kiss just above your core. You sat on your elbows, watching as he methodically planted kisses around your heat, just barely grazing your clit. You felt shivers run through your body at the anticipation. His hand pushed your legs up to your chest so that he could get a good view of how wet the thought of him was really making you.

“Hold your legs up for me, okay, princess.”

His dark eyes looked up to meet yours as his tongue licked a long, slow strip between your folds.

“All this just for me?” His warm breath fanned against your core.

You let out a low mewl as his tongue flicked against your clit messily. Nanami was a very neat and well-kept man, but the way he was eating you out was the complete opposite of what you knew him to be. He messily slurped your juices. You turned away, shutting your eyes at the sound. You couldn’t believe how he was making you lose your mind. He dipped two fingers inside, curling them as he dragged them in and out.

"Aww,” he cooed. “Don’t look away. Don't you want to watch me make this pussy cream on my tongue?”

Nanami’s words made you feel as if you were about to explode. His fingers pressed in and out of you, forming a rhythm. Your legs trembled as you neared a release. His tongue messily lapped at your warmth as he groaned against your core.

“I'm so close, oh g-” You were cut off by your own moan.

Nanami’s fingers curled inside of you as he massaged a spongy spot inside of you.

"Oh, there it is,” he groaned.

You let out a loud gasp as your body shook from your orgasm. Your eyes rolled back as he continued fucking his fingers into you.

"Mmh, you're so pretty when you make a mess for me."

He pulled away and moved to meet your lips.

“You want a taste, baby?” He leaned down to press his lips against yours. You were still shaking from your orgasm as you kissed back weakly. He held your legs in place, folding you into a mating press as his cock dipped into your slippery hole without warning. You let out a gasp, but it was easily swallowed by Nanami as he continued kissing and sucking your tongue. His thrusts were long and slow as he allowed you to adjust to his size.

“Such a good girl taking my cock like this,” he groaned the words against your lips.

Your body was trembling as your mouth hung open, letting soft whimpers fall past your lips.

“This is what you wanted right?” He leaned down to whisper the silky words in your ear, “You wanted me to stretch you out right?"

His thrusts picked up speed, and you couldn't help the lewd moans dripping off your tongue. His cock glided against your gummy walls, leaving you speechless. He was taking his claim on you, making you his. No other man would be able to make you feel this good. He wanted you to remember this, the way his cock dragged in and out of you, the relentless pace of his hips slamming against yours, the way his warm tongue ran up your neck to your ear, sending shivers through your body.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chanted.

“Then why aren’t you thanking me?” he growled

A string of thank-yous spilled past your lips. You were in a daze, stuck in obedience. He had you wrapped around his finger.

“There’s my good girl,” he cooed.

His cock felt so thick, spreading you out. Your mind was blurred, only able to focus on how his cock was able to reach places you had never explored before. He plunged his cock in and out of you, groaning at the sounds of your cunt squelching for him.

"Fuck, you don’t understand how long I've wanted this,” he breathed the words into your ear. “All those times I thought about sinking my cock into this soaking hole.”

His words were going straight to your core.

“I always thought about how badly this pussy needed me, how you needed my cum to fill you to the brim,” he grunted.

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling yourself growing closer to the edge.

“Please, sir i- Please can I cum?” You whined desperately, pleading with him.

"Oh, you want to cum, huh? Go ahead, princess, make a mess for me. Show me how pretty this pussy looks cumming on my cock.”

Your orgasm flooded over you like a wave. Your body shook as your hands gripped onto Nanami, dragging your nails down his skin.

"Oh, that’s it, good girl,” he whispered as you trembled, releasing all over him. “Pussy’s squeezing me so tight, you ready for me, baby? Where do you want it?”

Your eyes rolled back as he continued fucking you through your orgasm.

"Inside, please," you slurred, barely able to think straight.

Nanami chuckled at hearing how out of your mind you were.

“My favorite place,” he dragged his cock roughly in and out of you, grunting with each thrust. He held your body close as he released inside, groaning at how you clenched around him.

He pulled out, smiling softly at the way his cum drooled from your hole. He stuffed his fingers inside, pushing the cum back in, before gently putting your clothes on. He held you softly as you calmed down, catching your breath.

“I think we may need to do some stretching after our sessions more often."

[faulty-writes]

Maybe some headcanons where Bakugou, Tamaki, and Mirio are hit by a quirk that makes them behave mostly the opposite of themselves for a few days to a week.

Bakugou is kind and gentle towards the reader and so visibly in love. He's become quite the gentleman!

Tamaki is super energetic, extremely romantic, and declares his affections in front of at least his entire class.

And Mirio is so very, very gloomy but he's practically attached to the reader and says they're, "One of the precious few rays of light left in this gray, gray world."

[ I really like this request. Hah, personality changes are the best! ]

Katsuki's behavior shocked everyone, including you. Being his usual hot-headed self, he ended up in a quirk accident that changed his personality. When Mr. Aizawa assured you, the effects would be only temporary, you were grateful because Katsuki acting so…sweet, and gentle was just as frightful as when he was his usual self.

Normally, he would be protective of you, but now it's different. "Here, I don't want you to get wet," he said, holding the umbrella over you while he got soaked. "Nothing will happen to me, but someone like you shouldn't be caught out in the rain," he smiled sweetly at you while you trembled in response.

If someone talked to you in the wrong way, he'd pull you close and say, "Please don't speak that way to Y/n, they mean a lot to me, yeah?" Despite this, his loving gaze resembled his angry one and you tried to believe that the real Katsuki Bakugou was still somewhere inside him.

"Let's cuddle!" he would announce bluntly, no matter who was around. If you didn't respond fast enough, he'd pull you into his lap by force. He'd have his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

There was more thought put into your dates and he showed a greater interest in your hobbies. He would take you to your favorite restaurant or spend the evening in the dorm reading or watching a movie. He didn't get angry when others commented on how romantic or sappy he was, unlike before.

He could only react in anger when the effects of the quirk wore off and everyone shared the stories of what he did. "What the hell do you mean I did all that!?" He demanded, explosions sounding from his hands. It was only natural for you to smile because you missed the hotheaded Katsuki.

"Stay close to me, I love you so much…you're so kind and sweet and I can't bear to be apart from you!" To say Tamaki's reaction was surprising would be an understatement. It was like his hero persona times a thousand when he talked so bluntly about his affection for you. But his sudden personality change was credited to a quirk incident.

"I got these for you! They're so gorgeous, just like you. I…I just wanted to thank you for being my biggest fan and….love. I love you so much! I don't care who knows it!" He said after marching over to your desk in the morning and presenting you with the largest bouquet of flowers you had ever seen.

"Wow, another love letter for you! Guess this quirk accident brought out the more loving side of Amajiki, huh?" Nejire teased. It was clear she meant no harm, but Tamaki's love letters were beginning to get out of control. Since the incident, you must have found one to two in your locker every day.

During training exercises, it was normal for friends to cheer for you, but Tamaki took that to another level. The fact that he shouted your name enthusiastically and formed letters with his tentacles was endearing, but it was also distracting.

"Don't rub it off this time, okay!" He said, pressing a small kiss against your cheek. "I just want to kiss you forever!" he exclaimed trailing kisses across your reddened face. You hoped you wouldn't have to adjust to his lack of shame when it came to public affection.

"T-that's horrifying! W-why would I d-do all that!?" He squeaked out, hiding his face behind his hands as he appeared to be close to a panic attack. While part of you missed the proud and outspoken Tamaki, this version was the one you loved.

A quirk incident transformed Mirio into an emotional rollercoaster in a whole new way, and all the good parts of his personality vanished, leaving only doom and gloom behind.

As a result, he lost all his confidence and motivation, not to mention he questioned his purpose as a hero. "Don't get me wrong…having a quirk is great…but…my quirk is just so lame compared to others and if I don't have a cool, flashy quirk..then what's the point?" You wondered whether those were his real thoughts or if his mind was also thrown back to middle school.

"You're truly my only source of sunshine…the rest of this world is…dull and gray to me…" Mirio sought your company whenever and wherever he could, he didn't care if others were watching when he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, almost as if he was trying to hide from the gray world he described.

As his self-confidence dwindled, he refused to attend class and skipped hero training. To your surprise, he began discussing new dreams unrelated to his previous lifelong dream of becoming a hero. These included exploring new interests and hobbies and you could only remain supportive.

"I can't stand this gloomy world without you. If you left…I don't know what I'd do…I'd just wither away," you assumed this was his way of expressing his gratitude that you hadn't abandoned him during the long week following the quirk accident.

"Hah! Wow, really? I can't believe that quirk accident made me think so negatively about becoming a hero and yes, my quirk may not be flashy but I can still save the world," he said after all the quirk effects wore off. Then he poked your nose and with a cheesy grin said, "Thanks for putting up with me! I totally owe you one!"

[candiid-caniine]

slutpuppy tip of the day ✨

look ppl I've never been good at humping. idk if it's my anatomy or my lack of hip mobility or what, but humping the way I see in porn gifs has never worked for me, and it's always made me rly sad bc humping is just soooo puppy 😭

until now!!

if ur like me, and humping is difficult for you, and you want a way to make yourself look even more pathetic while edging, read on ✨

you will need:

(probably) a cunt - may work with a penis but I don't have one so idk!

pillows for support

a wand vibrator (others will prob work as long as they're sturdy/securable)

some way to keep it upright

here's what you're gonna do:

find a comfy position in some combination of chest down, ass up. get creative w pillows :)

secure your vibe upright below your spread legs ;) I did this by literally moving my arm under me and holding it in position, but I got a crick in my shoulder for it, so won't be doing that again ✌️ lol

you want it to be somewhere you can easily rub your clit/cock against it by moving ur hips up and down.

once it's there...get humping :3 think rly hard about how pathetically needy you must look, with your legs spread humping like a lil puppy dog 💕

notes:

this is a great (read: terrible!! mean!!!) exercise in self control. u have to either physically drop the vibe when ur at the edge, or move your hips away if it's secured some other way.

the problem ofc is that being in humpy drooly puppy mode makes this rlly hard >:c can't think.. can't rebmemer 😭

so I ruined before I was planning to. and let me fucking tell u. something about being in that position, both being so spread open and also being hella humiliated, made my ruin so. fucking. meannnn. I whined into my pillow and humped the air like a dumb slut 💕

given that this had me such a drooly puppy mess, I'll probably be made to edge like this for the foreseeable future 😭

possible variations:

if ur a dom and u make ur sub do this while ur passively ignoring them n throwing out little mean comments once in awhile as they put their ass into it just to get ur attention?? ur so mean 😭 ur so hot I'm begging u to DM me lol

securing the vibe independently and putting the sub in bondage that only juuuust allows them to hump properly is. hh.. (obviously do this safely af, esp if doing it solo)

u could experiment with the position of the vibe, then put constraints on your bodily positioning, to essentially make it doubly hard to get enough stimulation to hit the edge 🥺 juust add to the frustration and the desperation 💕

would be great in combo with other toys...puppy tail plug? labia spreader? dildo gag??

or even...some kind of spiky thing, also secured in the area, that would mean every time u rut against the vibrator, somethin painful is digging into ur ass or labia or w/e 💕💕

combine it w hypno. combine it w a humiliating mantra. combine it w figging. this could work with so many types of scenes :3

[meichenxi]

Language learning: slow learning versus toxic productivity

Or: the process in crisis

Five years ago, all of the productivity advice I read (and gave out) as a successful self-learner of many different languages had one basic premise: that I was not doing enough, and that I could always be doing more.

Several burnouts later, running headlong from one mental illness into another, I'd like to invite you to entertain the exact opposite idea: there is a limit to what you can do. I have run face-first into mine on multiple occasions, and burnt out. At many points I've stopped learning the language at all. Most importantly, I've learnt to be distrustful of the very premise that all of the so-called productivity or optimisation advice is based on.

More is not always more.

Listen to a podcast in the target language whilst you exercise. Exercise to give yourself more energy to learn your target language. Talk to yourself in the shower in your target language. Do Anki whilst eating breakfast. Listen to Glossika whilst walking to work. Change your phone settings to your target language. Bullet journal. Manage your time. Make friends in your target language. Control your time. Write a diary. There's always enough time. These are all things I have done myself and recommended others do, to increase exposure to the language, to increase productivity.

Productivity? What productivity? What, exactly, is it that we are producing? I am producing sentences and words but - for who? Who is listening? Nobody's here, in my room, at 7am on a Sunday. If productivity were just speaking or writing, I'd be productive in my native language too, by virtue of speaking out loud. Or conversely, in language learning circles, should we measure it in terms of input? How many hours did you spend listening to Chinese yesterday? What about today? Is there anything you do in your life, in your daily life, that you could optimise? You're wasting time. There's time here, for those that want it. If you want to get ahead, to be successful, to be a good language learner, you have to know how to use that time. Go online, and debate over which tools are the best; watch your videos. What exactly is it that is being produced?

Productivity is a measuring tool for concrete output: the productivity of a field means how much crop it can yield per harvest. The productivity of a factory is how many mobile phone chargers it can bring to market per year. There are direct and measurable ways to increase this sort of productivity. But what is productivity when it comes to knowledge work? Cal Newport's work, The Minimalists, Essentialism: they all run into the same problem, which is that nobody seems to know what 'productivity' for knowledge workers means at all. You can look at a factory line and see which parts need greasing up, figuratively or literally: it is very difficult, on the other hand, to look at the work of a self-contained writer and tell her where she is going 'wrong'. (And by 'wrong', I mean - slow.) And language learning is an even more particular subset of that particular subset of work.

You could judge a novelists' productivity two ways: by the 'busyness' of her daily writing routine, or the amount of novels she produces. But what exactly is being produced when we learn a language? What is the end product?

In some ways, language learning as a hobby is even more playful than traditionally thought of arts and crafts. (By 'play' I mean something which is done for its own sake, and which is pleasurable, and which may yield next to no monetary reward.) We might think of the poet as sitting on a tree and dangling his feet in the river, a vision of artful indolence, but at the end of the day there is output - a poem. A knitter has a jumper. A potter has a pot. But language learning doesn't follow this [work] + [time] = [tangible output] structure. We can't even use the second metric of 'productivity' to measure it at all. Something is being done, of course - I can learn to speak Greek, and speak it markedly better after two months than one - but my point is you can't look at a day's work and say, this is exactly how much I learnt. Learning is not memorisation in the short term - it's receiving input, and practicing how to wield and use a structure. It doesn't happen over the course of a ten-minute podcast.

Learning happens - encoding happens - when the brain is doing other things. In other words, much like every creative process, you need downtime. You need rest, and sleep, and fun, and brightness and joy in your life. You might 'remember' a bunch of words on Anki, but you need to sleep before you can review them again: that's the whole point.

There is a much wider problem here, a culture of goals and optimising your life and glowing up, and to be honest, I find it disturbing. I think that for a very long time my language learning metrics were a stand-in, a relic, for the kinds of unhealthy and obsessively perfectionist thinking that gave me an eating disorder. How many of us truly believe - genuinely, with every inch of our heart - that we are better people if we 'better' ourselves? Learn more. Exercise more. Study more. How do you feel about yourself at the end of a day, exhausted, because you've completed day 75/100? Do you feel better about yourself because you've achieved? I'm guessing that you do.

For many people - including for myself - this wider culture has spilled over into their hobbies. Hobbies like language learning in particular are a target for this because they are so easily quantifiable - and we are encouraged, if we want to succeed, to quantify them. How else will we know how to improve?

Over the last few years, after burning out, after living off grid and without wifi and doing extreme minimalism and a lot of other lifestyle experiments to try and understand why modern life is so fucking hard, it's become clear that most systems of 'productivity' measure 'optimisation' by getting the most done in a day, but they don't stop to question whether you should be doing those things at all.

They don't stop to ask: what matters? They don't stop to ask: why am I trying to write a novel, finish my dissertation, pursue a romantic relationship, get healthy, learn ice-skating, learn to cook, look after my aging parents, and learn guitar at the same time? They don't ask: how do I prioritise, and where do I find silence? They ask: how do I cram more time in the day? They don't ask: how do I slow time down? They don't ask: how can I know what matters, if I never give myself space to think?

In other words: 'productivity' in language learning is measured by 'busy-work', by how much you can see from the surface.

You can't measure how well the learning is going, exactly, but you can measure how many hours a day you show up and grind. Whether or not that struggle is the best use of your time, or whether you're spending the time on things that will truly bring you value and quality, is a different question altogether.

And it's not one most 'productivity culture' will ever ask.

There will be things in your language learning journey that, to borrow from self-help terminology, no longer serve you. Habits and relics and resources and mindsets that worked for you once, or no longer did. Those books that are too advanced that you feel like you 'should' be able to read. That textbook that's been sitting beside your bed for a year. That habit of scrolling social media in your target language that was helpful when you were at a more intermediate level, but does little for you now that you're advanced.

Take stock of these. Simplify. Do less, but do it better. Productivity culture never stops to ask: what can I do without? It always asks, instead: how can I do more? But maybe - just maybe - the way to do more is to focus on fewer things, but do them well.

Multi-tasking isn't multi-tasking, but switching quickly between different focuses of attention. The average American owns 300,000 things, and watches television for 4-5 hours a day. On average, if you are distracted, it takes you 20 minutes to reach the same level of deep focus: but the average American office worker opens an email within six seconds of receiving it. Are you any better with your phone? How much time do you spend there? If you meditate, that's wonderful, but do you have any time to let yourself think? To walk and to understand how to feel? I don't want to sound like a boomer, but: can you name the birds? Do you live in a place, not just a room?

Stop trying to be 'productive'. Do less. Do it well.

I am now facing a wall in my learning of Chinese, and I'm still not sure how to get around it. The reason for this is because so much of the advice I gave others around language learning, and so much of the advice I found online, is focused on this sort of optimisation. But I no longer want to be listening to something, to be watching something, every second of every day. I have a partner to love and a house to appreciate and I want to spend time, humming and pleasant, alone with my thoughts, and it's summer, dear diary, and I don't want to stay indoors. Routines can keep you afloat, but they can also drown you. Do something different. Do something new. Do something that is not productive, that produces nothing, idle away, walk to work without music and perhaps when you sit down to your language learning that evening, you'll be filled with a renewed vigour and love for it. Do it because you love it, not because you scheduled it in your calendar.

A lesson, related, from my martial arts teacher. He said:

If you are tired, do not train. If you do not train, rest. 'Rest' does not mean go on your phone.

The same principle applies here. If you are tired of learning, which you may well be, rest. Not going on your phone, not watching Netflix. I mean taking a walk and sitting under the tree and looking at the patterning of the sky. I mean lying with your dog and absently scratching his tummy. If you're tired, and you have the luxury to stop - stop. Let yourself be tired. Don't drink caffeine. Sleep.

Last year, I was able to write 340,000 words of fiction because I focused on one thing: writing my book. Apart from things that I literally needed to do to survive and maintain my health and relationships around me, I didn't set a single other to-do. My daily list looked like: write for three hours. Not a word limit. Not exercise, though I ended up doing that, not learning a language. I imagine that if I had tried to focus on Chinese at the same time that I wouldn't have achieved anywhere near half the result. I still learnt Chinese, a very decent amount - I went to China and Taiwan for three months in total! - but I did it because I wanted to, of a whim, on a Sunday, something fun. It wasn't a must, or anything I was forcing myself to do. Many days I didn't do any Chinese at all. It was so immensely freeing to be able to think, at 11am: I'm finished for today. Even when I was at work, because I knew I was just there to pay the rent, I felt serene. Stressed on a day-to-day level, certainly, because all work is stressful, but - there wasn't any striving. I just did the best I could. And that was enough.

I am writing this, now, as I come out of my first ever information-overload burnout. I've burnt out, but I've never experienced one of these before: even looking at a book, at a phone, physically hurt my eyes. I couldn't bear to listen to people speak and would lock myself away in my room. I physically felt I could not talk, and had to take extensive time off work. Even looking at a pen and a blank page was too much; listening to podcasts was too much; reading the instructions for dinner was too much too. The only way I could heal was by doing absolutely nothing at all. That period shocked me deeply, because it showed me how absolutely dependent I was on having some input of information all of the time. No wonder I was tired.

I know, now, that there are lots of movements built around this same idea, by frustrated learners all over the world: the growing realisation that metrics and Excel and polylogger and tracking tracking tracking can't be the only way to learn. That a list of the number of books you've read in one year is hardly indicative of how well you understood those books, and what you learned from them. You've read 20 books this year already - good job. When do you think about them? What time do you spend on reflection? Why did you choose those books? Which chapters, and which characters, hit you the hardest? Why?

Minimalism, deep work, 'monk mode', essentialism, every writer's dream to run away and write in a cabin in the woods, slow learning, Buddhism, Stoicism, Marie Kondo-ism, the art of less, project 333, my no-buy-year, slow fashion, slow food, slow travel:

What all of these philosophies have in common is the idea that doing things deliberately ('mindfully') means 1) doing things slowly, 2) doing things well, and 3) doing things one at a time.

I am now at a place in my life where I understand the value of time alone with my thoughts. I don't want to listen to podcasts every minute of the waking day, because I need time to think about them. I need time to let the ideas for my novel grow in the dark. Nothing can be heard in noise; so make space for silence. I am a member of the real, living, breathing world, and that means I cannot devote 8 hours a day to Chinese television shows like I could when I was 20. I have to call my father. I have to do the dishes. I want to flex my creative muscles in other ways. Alternatively - I no longer believe that my worth is tied up inherently with how well I do my hobbies.

You're just some guy. There's freedom in that. You, my friend - you suck <3

Let yourself be bad. Let yourself be mediocre. Let yourself 'slide backwards' or regress, because all that means is that you're putting focus somewhere else. It'll come back. It always does.

I'm no longer comfortable, therefore, with the way that the language learning community tackles productivity. Please don't misunderstand; a lot of us have time spare that we could use to do things 'better' for us. I know. But I just believe now that getting rid of things, like the time you spend on your phone, is going to be more helpful in the long run than trying to force yourself into some gruelling, achievement-centric regime that collapses from within after two months of struggle and self-flagellation.

The other realisation I have had is just how much happier I am spending more time being alive, really alive, and less time in front of a screen. For a language like German or Gaelic that's much easier, because you can study with books, but with Chinese you always have to study to some extent with audios, flashcards, computers. Especially if - like me - you can read novels without a dictionary, but cannot handwrite even your Chinese name. So where next?

I don't have any answers. I'm not sure how to pair the two things together, to be honest, because almost all of my language learning has traditionally made use of technology. It's all been goal-orientated, systems-orientated, and despite the fact that I've failed at using these systems every day for years, despite the fact that Anki has NEVER worked for me, despite the fact that I have spent hundreds if not thousands of pounds on courses here, there, a wealth of overwhelm and five thousand words saved on Pleco, did I read that right? Five thousand. No wonder I'm stressed.

Regardless of happiness, it's much easier to achieve a state of deep focus and work when you're not online. After my period of information burnout, I feel actual physical pain from the weight of choices online. It's exhausting. I'm watching a Chinese show, but I want to go on tumblr. I'm on tumblr, but I feel guilty for not watching the Chinese show. I'm constantly torn between doing this and that, never fully committing to anything, seeing a post by Lindie Botes and thinking, damn, she's good. I should be better. But I don't want to compare myself to her. Do you know what? She is good. I admire her immensely. But I don't want to judge my self-worth by some imagined scale of productivity anymore - and, the more time passes, the more I'm not sure what 'productivity' in the context of language learning even means.

Try slow, focused, deep learning. You might just find it works.

There's something refreshing, almost counter-cultural, anti-capitalist, anti-consumerist, anti-rat-race, about this thought. Slow learning. I think there's an answer here, somewhere. It's a problem I've been dancing around for a while; and do you remember how you learnt your first foreign language? For me, it was on the floor, absolutely absorbed in German comic books, flicking through the dictionary furiously and scribbling things down in a notebook. I only had one book, and one dictionary, and one grammar book. I want to go back to that sort of simplicity. There was joy in that.

One again: I don't have any answers. I don't know exactly what direction this blog is going to go in, as I wrestle with these sorts of meta-problems. I'd love to hear your thoughts. And for now, if there's one thing I'd like you to take away from this long and frankly absurdly rambling post (thank you for bearing with me!) it's an alternative answer for the question I get so often, about what you can do to learn the language when you're tired, because:

Yes, you could watch reality TV shows in Chinese, or you could give yourself permission to be human. You could rest.

Thanks guys. Meichenxi out <3