#i have nothing more to add than. yea.

[champmorado]

As a lesbian, I a million percent agree. The only real sapphic ship I've seen that has more then like one person shipping it is NatCruz (I've also seen it called CruzNat), and even then it's still a pretty obscure crackship technically.

To be fair though, a lot of that is because there are barely any female characters in the main cast, and those who do exist are in relationships. Flo is already with Ramone, Sally ends up with Lightning and Lizzie, although widowed, is still very fond of her Stanley. I'm pretty sure the only exception is Cruz and even then who the hell do we ship her with EXCEPT the one other female character with more then one line?

Either way, I am starving, send help.

~ Planerot

^^^^^ this

[rawliverandgoronspice]

So let me get this straight. TOTK!Rauru had repeatedly requested that the Gerudo join the ‘protective embrace’ of his kingdom, to serve him. Protection from whom? The monster clans? If anything, the Gerudo seem at the peak of their power! They have some measure of control over the molduga, the fiercest of the desert’s monsters. It’s also established elsewhere that the Secret Stones merely amplify one’s existing power—that one would catapult Ganon to near-unstoppable heights speaks of his already formidable might. With him at the helm, the Gerudo were ready and willing to invade Hyrule. Until Rauru demonstrated a superweapon that quite literally vaporized any notion of a military assault—a superweapon that Rauru (and his cohort) brazenly wears. Ganon is entreating a party wearing nuclear launch codes around their necks! And those aren’t even the only Secret Stones in Rauru’s possession, later handing those out as he sees fit to the Sages. Of course, the narrative portrays Rauru as someone who would never abuse that kind of power—he’s a Good King. But that’s a terrifying Sword of Damocles.

Yep. Pretty much.

Also I'd like to point out that apparently, Rauru's "sin", and what passes off as his character arc (so far, I haven't finished the whole game yet), is that he was too confident that he'd keep Ganondorf under control as a vassal? Like, okay what were the options otherwise? What should he have done that he didn't do? Like in OoT/TP beforehand: was Rauru supposed to simply imprison the king of a foreign nation just because he didn't pass the vibe check --or worse, kill him off? And then what happens to the gerudo? I feel like we've gone down this road before, and it didn't lead anywhere pretty...

This is what I mean about the poor character writing in this game: I think Rauru is supposed to be the emotional core of the story, and he might be the only one with an "arc" so far, but his flaw/regret is... a whole bunch of nothing? Unless you think he should have commited genocide to protect his kingdom from evil, according to the game that refuses to examine his actions/power, there's nothing he should have done differently besides... not having his wife be murdered? That's not a character arc, that's just an unfortunate event you participated in unwillingly!! To make a comparaison that is worth being brought up: the king of Hyrule in BotW worked much better in that regard, because he is indeed partially responsible for the fall of his kingdom through the pressure he inflicted upon his daughter and the prideful belief that he could control a force of nature (Calamity Ganon being treated as such in that game) through technology; both of these attitudes costing him everything, condemning his daughter to a century-long fight and said technology ruling the lands through terror in his stead. As a ghost, he haunts the wreckage waiting for the hero to wake up to try and finally correct his mistakes through Link.

I think they kind of wanted to do that again in TotK, but it extremely doesn't land in my opinion because Rauru has no flaw --beyond, apparently, not being bigoted enough?

[sapphiressmoke]

Outlander I

Summary: She doesn’t know how it happened but they were calling to her to come closer. Touching it was never suppose to uproot her life and transport her somewhere she never thought she could see and witness. She has to try her best to survive if she wants to get back, right?

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen X Modern!Reader.

Warnings: Nothing as of now but angst, romance, smut

Word Count: 2.6K

Next Part

2024 AC Kings Landing

So this was the magical Kings Landing? Once the vast and lively city was now a place of desolation, solitude and history. It had been like this ever since the burning in 305 A.C between two Queens. You read about how it was a horrible event, many innocent people lost their lives… Even the two Queens. Since that moment, no more Targaryens roamed Westeros. It was now a place of history and learning. Most teachers brought their students here to see what they were being taught. Some parents dragged their kids here to learn of their heritage.

You were here for the first reason.

Being in your second year of Vale University, you were studying History and Literature. What were you going to with that degree? You have no idea but at least you were enjoying yourself… For the most part. “The Red Keep took many years to complete. Three reigns to be exact. What started on Aegon’s High Hill names Aegonfort. King Aegon the First used this fort as his seat during the conquest, housing the impeccable Iron Throne. Though it was destroyed in the battle of Kings Landing, paintings portrayed this throne as huge and intimidating.” Your group followed your professor as she guided everyone at the base of what the humongous Keep used to be. You looked around, red brick scattered over the floor. You mind raced as you thought of how these bricks were over 2000 years old, millions of people have touched them and now they were scattered all over the dirt floor. “It isn’t said when but at some point after the Conquest, the King ordered the destruction of the Fort and the construction of the Red Keep began. It was said that Aegon requested the castle be built with red rock to remind people of the fire he roasted and the blood he shed of his enemies, so whenever King’s Landing looked up they’d see the price of defiance.”

Your professor continued to talk but the sound of nature around you drowned it out. The sound of buzzing getting louder in your ear, getting louder and louder. “Ugh! You don’t hear that?” You brought your finger to your ears and tried wiggling it around to see if there was anything there.

“Hear what?” Your friend, Talia, said as she leaned in.

“That stupid buzzing sound. It won’t stop.” You groaned as you continued with your ear.

Your friend gave you a weird look. “I just think you’re going crazy. There is nothing.”

The buzzing softened and turned into a soft whisper, softer than wind. “Y/N… Darling… Y/N.”

You whipped your head back, trying to find the source of the noise. “Please told me heard that!” Before Talia could respond, your professor spoke faster. “Is there something you would like to add, Miss Y/N?”

Your face went beat red from embarrassment. “No ma’am… Sorry.” You said sheepishly.

“Thank you. Now where was I? Ah yes. The start of the fall of the Targaryens, it started when…” You started to zone out and looked back behind you, trying to figure out where the whisper came from. From the bottom of the hill, you spotted a man sporting an eyepatch, long silver hair and cladded in leather. He had his arm extended out towards you, as if he was waiting for you to come and grab it, calling you to run away with him but just as fast as you spotted him, he disappeared.

You felt your arm being grabbed and a hand stroke your upper arm. You turned towards Talia, who wore a worried look. “Is everything okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You shook your head and ran a hand through your hair. “Yea… Yes. I’m good.” You grasped her hand that was on your upper arm. “Let’s just get this tour over with. It’s giving me the heebie jeebies.”

“You got that right.” She agreed. “But I heard that the Kingswood, which is just behind the hotel, is just as creepy. Maybe even haunted!”

128 AC Kings Landing

“Mother, please tell me I do not need to go to this hunt. There are better things I can do with my time.” The One-Eyed Prince has been trying for days to stay at the Keep, not wanting to waste a morning travelling to the Kingswood just for a hunt that he did not want to participate in.

The Queen sighed at her son, pushing a silver strand away from his stoic face. “Aemond… ‘Tis for Jaehaerys and Jaehaeras name day. Your brother wants to do a grand celebration for them. Especially for Jaehaerys.”

He rolled his one eye. “We all know that it’s an excuse for him to drink away… With reason this time.” He looked up at his mother. “Will father be coming?”

“The Maesters will assess The Kings health before letting us know but I do doubt that he will be able to join with the amount of pain he has been in.” The Queen replied. It has been no secret that The Kings has been declining the past couple of years. Decaying flesh, rotting teeth and constant pain. Drunk day in and out on milk of the poppy.

“If he does not go…” He tried to think of a reason to stay but was stump. “If he does not go then I shall stay here and watch over him.” Lies.

Alice by let out a chuckle. “You are quite the convincing liar, Aemond, but the Maesters will be here to aid your father in anything.” She walked away from her son and looked at the window, looking upon the people of Kings Landing. “I know you would much rather be here, reading in the library and training outside but it will do you some good to be away for a bit. Breath the good air of Kingswood.” She turned around to face her third child. “Plus, Ser Criston Cole shall be joining us if you ever do need to scratch the intense to train.”

Aemond rubbed his face and groaned. “I guess you are right, mother. But I will not ride with Aegon in the carriage. He’s an imbecile and will most likely throw up from all of the wine he has drank.”

“Thank you.” Alicent smiled. “You may ride with with me and Ser Criston. Halaena will be with the children and nurse while Aegon rides with Ser Arryk and Erryk as it seems they are the only ones that can deal with his shenanigans.”

“As I mentioned before… Imbecile.”

The night passed swiftly and once the sun started to rise and was on the horizon line, the Royal Family begun their travels to the Kingswood. Even though Aemond was never a talkative person, worsening after the incident with his eye, he seemed even more lost in his thoughts than usual. He stared out the window, sitting across from his mother who watched him intensely. “What is on your mind, sweet son?”

Aemond continued to look outside the window but sighed. “I had this weird dream. Was just flashes of images. Nothing clear. There was this woman… She seemed lost, searching for help. It sounded like she was calling out to me but the way she dressed did not seem normal.”

The Queen stayed silent for a moment before speaking. “Are you a Dragon Dreamer now?” She joked, causing a small smile to break on the princes face. “Dreams have many meanings. Perhaps it’s just a bad dream from the stress you put on yourself. Free your mind for the next couple of days. Perhaps even participate in the hunt.”

The hunt that went on in the Kingswoods happened every couple of years, usually to celebrate a names day for a royal child. The White Hart was usually the main goal of the hunt but any animal was game. “And if I were to meet the White Hart, would that not be a sign that I should be the King over my buffoon of a brother?” It was quite well known that Aegon did not desire to be King, fought against everything Even fighting with his Grand Father and Mother saying that it was his Half Sisters birthright but all of his complaints were going to a deaf ear. Aemond wished to rule. He was fit to rule and it was simple: he rode the largest dragon in all of Westeros, he excelled in combat and studied on the history and politics of his family and of Westeros but it would not go to him unless everyone in front of him died.

This was a conversation he had with his mother too often but his question was answered with silence. That was how the rest of the carriage ride went. Silence. The dream kept replaying over and over in his mind. Who was this girl? What was she doing? Who was she to him?

Within the next couple of hours, Lords and Ladies and the Royals arrived in Kingswood. The air still cold with the mornings breath. Everything was set up for them to place clothing, tables… Everything. The children were running about, screaming playfully with each other. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera came running towards Aemond, crashing into his legs. “Hi Uncle Aemond!” They squealed.

He looked down at his niece and nephew, rubbing the back of their heads before pushing them back on their way. “Hello you two.”

“Time travels back and is protected by the White King.” Helaena whispered into the cold air of the morning, staring at Aemond from across the way.

Aemond looked up to make eye contact with Halaena, seeing her lips move but not making out what she had said. He cocked his head to the side, deciding to walk towards his sister to see what she had said. She didn’t seem to realize that Aemond was by her side before he squeezed her hand. “What was that, good sister?” Helaena looked up at him and gave him a small smile. “Only Time can tell you… Only Time.”

The rest of day went on eventfully. The men prepared for the hunt while the women gossiped as they ate cake. Of course Alicent chose not to participate in the gossip. She could not bother to hear anymore about Rhaenyra, her bastard sons and how great they are. She decided to watch her grand-children run about. Aegon was nowhere to be found, most likely already drunk in his tent, Helaena chose to rest in her tent as the carriage ride took a lot out of her and Aemond sat with Criston Cole as they sharpened their swords, getting ready for the hunt. She stared around her and for a slight moment, she would think her life was perfect. She had her children and her grand-children around her but then she remembers that she is practically ruling the Seven Kingdoms, her husband was dying and she was alone in the world.

2024 AC Kingswood

You slipped on your black slip dress, continuing to argue with your friend in the hotel room. “You don’t get it, Talia! There is something calling to me out there. I’m not insane. I’m not crazy. It’s been going on ever since we entered Kings Landing.” The buzzing was constant, the whispering was constant and the flashes of that man were at every corner.

Talia sat on the bed, her eyes following you as you continued to pace around the room. “I’m not saying you’re crazy but you sound crazy, Y/N. A silver haired man with only one eye? Listen to yourself!”

You groaned and you pulled yourself into a ball. “I know what I sound like!” You stood back up and waved your arms around. “But this… This place is weird. There has been so many deaths and apparently fucking magic. There is something going on.” You grabbed your black shawl from your luggage and pulled in over your shoulders. “And I am going to figure it out.” You pointed to the woods. “I’m going to go in those stupid woods and try to find something. I don’t what I will try to find but I will know what it is when I see it.”

Your friend gave you a shocked look, standing up quickly and grabbed your arm. “Okay now I’m saying that you are crazy! There’s boars… Bears in those woods! You could die! What would your mom do if you die?”

You ripped your arm from her grasp. “Well she always knew I would die in a stupid way. Tell her I love her. And before you ask, no you can’t come. You’ll be the person to let the teacher know that I’m gone. If I’m not back before the next tour tomorrow morning, you can go all out and tell everyone I’m missing. Okay?”

You saw the perplexed look she wore in her face before answering. “Fine. Fine! If you die… Ugh!”

You put on your pair of shoes, grabbed your flashlight and placed it your bag before heading out. You stood in front of the forest and sighed, were you really this stupid? Yes, yes you were. You took one last look at the hotel before you made your way into the dark, insect infected forest… Gods you were dumb.

It had already been a few hours at this point, you were tired, you were hungry and you still had no idea what you were looking for. You kept hearing animal noises surrounding you and you were terrified. What if a wild boar chased you or a bear mauled you to death? What if you died of dehydration. How many days does it take to die or dehydration or hunger?

Suddenly the aura around you shifted and the whispering begun again. ‘You’re so close, Y/N. Continue.’ It was a man’s voice. It was so clear. ‘Continue straight, My Love, we’ll be together soon.’ The buzzing began and it only got louder as you continued walking straight. The further you walked, the higher the grass got. It was tickling your calves. It was as if a flash of light opened your eyes when all of the sudden a bunch of tall stones stood tall in front of you, being illuminated by the direct moonlight. The aura surrounding it was calling to you to come closer. “This is what I’ve been looking for.” You beamed with excitement.

The buzzing only got louder as you approached the Stones. The high grass tickled your calves, leaving tiny water droplets on your skin. The buzzing sounded as if it was whispering your name, soft as wind. “Y/N… Y/N…”. It only drew you closer.

The Stones had this silver and golden aura surrounding it. Were you the only one that could sense it? Were you the only one that could hear it? See it? Your thoughts were racing as you stood in front of the tall Stone. You raised your right hand to touch it, as if that was what it was telling you to do. The only thing you could do. For a moment you hesitated, wondering what you were doing, why were you here but it just kept calling out. “Y/N… Y/N…”

You let out a long breath and pressed your palm flat against the rough texture. Within the moment, all sound seized to exist around her, life was dark and as soon as it disappeared, everything reappeared.

128 AC Kingswood

You blinked your eyes fast, letting out a shaky breath. You stumbled backwards and the world wasn’t as you just saw. There were more trees surrounding you. The woods seemed to be more lively than before. “Oh Gods, what did I do.”

From back at the camp, Helaena felt the shift in the air. “Welcome home, Time.” Helaena smiled.

———————————————

SOOO what do we think? It’s only getting started and I’m so excited to see where this goes.

[risingblackmoon]

I wanted to add more tags but I reached the LIMIT I DIDN'T KNOW THERE WAS A LIMIT BUT. BUT. GESTURES. HEY GUYS GO CHECK THIS OUT. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE.

I am handing you this 30 second song I wrote and sang

[myszie]

I think your Tutor likes being called a Good Boy

Sub!Matt x reader

Trigger warning - Smut, Dom/Sub dynamics, Throat play, major Corruption kink, maybe Dub!con, degradation.

MDNI

First time writing smut, constructive criticism please!!!

Matt fidgets with his pencil, hands roughly bundled in his lap, You’re supposed to carry over the power” he mumbles, his words terse. I look up at the boy sitting across from me in the prickling sweltering heat of the school library, “Matttt I swear you’re writing in another language at this point” I murmur exasperated, lips drawn into an exaggerated pout.

Matt shifts in his seat - red flush coating his porcelain skin, as he reaches over to correct my mistake. “It’s not hard, you’re just not doing it properly” he adds attempting to joke and look away from my face, and the way my skin shimmers in the heat….so mundane yet so provocative. “You whore, why must you attack me like that” I laugh back tugging at my thin tee so it it doesn’t stick to my body. Not hearing a reaction, and worrying I pushed too far, I lean into Matt only to see him squirming in his lap as diverts his gaze from the dip of my collarbone.

“You don’t look so good Matty….its too hot in here…wanna study in my car?” I offer cooing at the boy as I help him gather his things, perfectly disguising the ways my hands linger as I help him put stuff in his bag.

The boy shuffles behind me, his hands firmly plastered to the front of his body…the heat, your lips and the ways your words were just on the precipice of his desire. Watching Matt struggle ever so much under my gaze, the battle behind clinging to his perfect image is downright tempting. Like a white canvas begging for colour, begging to be ruined.

“Does that feel better?” I murmur, softly rubbing his thighs, to comfort him of course and not anything else. The hitch in his breath is loud and clear within the silence of the car, but I’m more than happy to indulge in this game of cat and mouse a bit longer. “The heat was really getting you huh?” I coo again, this time pressing a cold beer near his jugular. “Mhm this should help the flush” I say smirking slightly as I hover over the boy, but seeing his blush darken and eyes look wide and dazed…my temptation peels and I can’t help but dip the bottle lower…near his chest.

Matt gasps biting his lips, “Yea that feels…better” he manages to force out even though the ice did nothing to calm the raging hard on he was packing. He was too far gone at this point, he needed you to keep touching him. “I think I know what will feel really good though Matty, what hill help ……this” I whisper in his ears as I drag the cold beer bottle close to his navel. Matts eyes widens and before he can process what you’re proposing, I pull my hands back and settle in my chair acting nonchalant. “Feel better Matty?” I lilt, stressing the syllable. Matt eyes turn to mine, completely wide and his chest heaves as his brain tries to cope with the fact that he hadn’t just imagined your hands near his cock.

I stare back at him, a challenge and invitation clear in my eyes, “No…need help” he finally murmurs out his words stressed and broken. “Mhm you were quite rude you know, you should ask me nicely” I rasp as I let my hands and nails ghost over the skin of his thigh. Matt hands ball in his laps as his body shakes under my touch, “please help me…please” he finally manages and I smile my touch getting bolder as it palms the bulge in his pants. “Help you do what bunny?” I say smirking, having fun while breaking down matts composure. “Touch me please” Matt moans his hips rising up as they grind up into my hands.

Smirking I’m immediately on him, straddling his heaving frame in the small car. My red manicured hands grasp both sides of his face, as I look into his eyes….”You thought you were being subtle huh, palming your dick in the library like a slut” I rasp roughly kissing his perfectly pouty laps. Matt all but whimpers as his hips ground up to mine, moving desperately for friction. I squeeze his mouth, “Open” and spit in his mouth as he spreads open his mouth, “god such a desperate slut, now swallow” I say licking a line of sweat down the side of his neck. I’m well aware of the fact by this point he’s practically humping me, but I let him…he was too pure yet to ruin completely and besides I didn’t wanna reveal all my cards.

“You desperate boy, I thought you needed me to touch you, but here you’re more than happy humping me like a Rabid bunny in heat….fuck perfect Matt is such a little slut…doing all this when anyone can see the fucked out look on your face” I tease my hands grasping his throat as I too grind down on him. Matt tries to answer, his words muffled in moans and I laugh, “You don’t gave permission to speak doll” I say biting his lips.

Matt is all but reduced to to heap of grunts and moans, his hips chasing the rhythm of mine. Feeling himself get closer, he can’t help but moan out, “Fuck feels so good” as he cums in his pants against the heat of my centre. I ride him through his orgasm drawing out the sensitivity, until I address him with a hard glare.

“I said you’re not allowed to speak doll”

Y’all want part 2? I’m not sure?

Tag list

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[cumbunnywitch]

I've seen at least one, but posts saying not to blame the people who didn't vote for Harris because whatever are fully in the wrong and they always will be.

You chose moral high grounding and purity culture over the possibility that our protests would work. You chose "she leaned too right in her campaign" over "Trump and the people who want to puppeteer him are going to get a lot of people killed." You chose the democrats being idiots over the republicans want a racist rapist.

You didn't choose? No, you had a choice. You used yours. If you chose not to vote because you wanted to use your non-vote as a voice to show the democrats that they have to win your vote, you're still going to get your face eaten by the leopards. They aren't going to hear you anyway.

Protests work on the left side of our shit-ass two party system because they at least pretend to care.

Here's just, off the top of my head, the things you decided were less important than telling the democratic party "No you have to be good enough":

Student Loan Forgiveness or Relief

Healthcare

Trans Rights

LGBTQIA Safety

Abortion rights

Palestine/Gaza

Ukraine

Industry Regulation(notice all those recalls on food lately?)

Cost of Living

Police Reform

Taxes

There's no such thing as a single-issue voter, not anymore. The right is diametrically opposed to making any of the above better for anyone, whether or not they voted for that shitstain, unless you're very rich, and very white, and a very straight man.

Honestly, if you voted for Jill Stein, at least you fucking voted. Her numbers won her absolutely nothing but at least you voted.

But no. "Don't vote for Harris because she's not good enough! She's running a campaign to secure moderate republicans!" Yea no fucking shit. That's what they've been doing for the last forever. Yea, it still sucks. But most moderate liberals who actually vote still struggle with that list up there. There's literally a democrat trans woman who just got voted in who wants to support Israel's genocidal campaign of murdering every Palestinian.

And you know what? If she sees that line, she might actually stop and think and move a little bit over to my perspective. Every conservative sees that line and immediately thinks "Yea kill the fuckin' brown people!" because they don't consider them fucking people.

If you didn't vote because you saw people saying Harris wasn't leftist enough, not liberal enough, she was a former prosecutor or the democrats haven't done enough for you in the last 4 years, you fell for the Russian psyop. You fell for the propaganda.

Does it suck that Harris wanted to court the swing states and their moderately conservative voting base over to vote for the first woman president? Yea, it's been a shitty idea for decades and they've been doing it for as long as I've been voting. Obama was the center-ist centerist ever, and he still got healthcare reform passed. He also drone striked a lot of people and gave banks billions of dollars when the financial sector faceplanted after trying to balance on a pin for the longest time.

I was gonna add a read-more or chop this up better but no. You get to read the whole thing. If you didn't vote, or you voted for trump, I want you gone. Unfollow me, block me, because you clearly either don't care enough to prevent our slide into authoritarianism and a fixed court for the next 60 years, or you actively hate me.

[anarcoqueer1994]

Eddie was going to tell them, he promised Steve he would. Its was easy to tell the apocalypse crew, kind of hard to keep things from a group of people you saved the world with. But telling Corroded Coffin about his new boyfriend was different. Not that they would care that he has a boyfriend. They've known he was queer for a while. What he was worried was who he was dating.

They had spent years in high school touting their superiority over the "conformist, arrogant sheep, and their leader King Steve." Except he had been to harsh, he had gotten to know Steve.... love Steve. And he was afraid if he told Corroded Coffin, not only would they rag on him, but they may say something horrible to Steve. But Steve said he didn't care, that he could handle it. He would "kill them with kindness." He just wanted to be open with Eddie with all their friend groups.

So Eddie promised he would tell. There was a little part of him, though, a superficial part of him, that cared a little more about what his friends think than he should. And so, even though he told Steve he would, he has been dragging his feet. Unfortunately, Steve does not know that. Eddie told a little white lie a few weeks ago that he told them, bringing the brightest, prettiest smile to his face. Eddie had planned to tell them soon after.

But he still hasn't, did not realize the mess he was about to make. Tonight they were having Hellfire at the Wheeler house. Dustin, Will, Lucas, Mike, Erica and the rest of Corroded Coffin were there.

Dustin mentions that Steve would be there soon to bring he, Lucas, Erica and Will home. That's when Garreth says "I still don't see why you guys like hanging out with that guy. He always seemed like an asshole to me." Jeff and Caleb nod their heads.

"He kind of is." Mike jokes. "But he's not a bad dude."

"Steve is cool, man." Dustin adds, obvious admiration in his face.

"Yea, Steve has always been really nice to us." Will smiles. "He is like another big brother." The rest of the party, including Erica, nod in agreement.

Erica gets a shit eating grin(not knowing Eddie has not told Corresed Coffin about he and Steve dating) "And he's cute, right Eddie?" The rest of the guys except Lucas and Will groan in response.

Eddie tries to play it off. "Yea, Harrington is hot. Anyone with eyes can see that."

"Well you must think he's extra hot since he's your...' before she can finish Eddie cuts her off. "I think we are at a good place to stop for tonight."

Everyone notices the quick way he cut her off. Everyone looks confused, even if the younger teens are for a different reason. Jeff speaks up. "What's Steve, Eddie?" He pokes.

"Steve is Steve." He shoots back avoiding the question, slight embarrassment creeping to his cheeks. He knows he should say more, tell them about his wonderful, adorable boyfriend. But maybe he ego is too big to admit he fell for the jock.

"What are you talking about?" Dustin speaks up.

"Why are you being weird?" Mike adds.

Suddenly a chorus of voices chime in, all asking questions. "What is Steve?" "Eddie, why are you being like this?" "Is something up with Steve?"

Finally over the loud voices from his old friends and new friends, he defensively says. "Steve is nothing!" His cheeks are red.

Unfortunately, over the chaos, they hadn't heard Steve come down the steps, having heard Eddie's proclamation. He had come a bit early, thinking Correded Coffin knew. He was carrying a plate of cupcakes, wanting to make a good impression during the first time seeing Correded Coffin as Eddie’s boyfriend.

But he was wrong. They didn't know, and Eddie had lied to him. It hurt. It's not like Eddie’s friends are homophobic, so Eddie was...ashamed to be dating him.

"I'm nothing?" Steve's voice causes everyone to look behind them. Steve looks devastated, like Eddie had just took his heart and stomped on it in front of everyone.

"Steve..." Eddie jumps up, trying to will time to rewind, but he can’t. He hadn't meant to say those terrible things.

But Steve is shaking his head, setting the cupcakes down, before bounding back up the steps.

All the "kids" including Mike, practically shoot daggers at Eddie as they leave, following after Steve.

Eddie is left sitting in the basement, with his three confused bandmates, feeling deflated, knowing he just fucked up the best thing in his life.

Part 2? Let me know if you want to be added to a tag list.

Tag list closed, part 2 here :)

[souperluminal]

Hello!! I'm a huge fan of your art and I thought I would ask about your colorwork, because it's genuinely super impressive to me how all your pieces have amazing palettes and they add so so so much to the general atmosphere. Do you have any process to pick colors for pieces? Like using picture references, gradient maps, etc or do you genuinely just eyeball them? I'm super curious :]

But yea I really love what you do and love seeing every new piece!! Have a nice day! Ty for reading <3

Thanks! I very much use references, though I don't use the color picker on them, gotta train the eye. I have an ever-expanding reference folder of photos and paintings with colors that I like so that when I start a new painting and I have an idea of the color scheme I want in mind, I'll already have some reference on hand. Good reference really makes a world of difference!

I also like to bias colors a little bit away from their standard versions:

The more blue green and the more yellow green are both more interesting to me than the "just green" green. Nothing wrong with that average green though, sometimes that's exactly what you need. It's always situational.

Lastly, a fantastic color tip for digital art specifically that I got from Mike Hernandez: Use the RGB sliders instead of the HSB color selection!

By default, Photoshop gives you the HSB (Hue, Saturation, Brightness) color picking setup which looks like this:

It's perfectly functional and has its uses, but it doesn't really feel like mixing color. On the other hand, if you use the RGB sliders:

Now you can add a little more blue if you think that's what the color needs, or you can take away red, add some green, etc. It gets you actually mixing color and thinking more about how the colors relate to each other. It can take some getting used to if you've only used the HSB setup before, but it's worth it!

[wonnieluv]

Personal Stylist 🎀

Enha Jake x reader

Summary: Jake’s hair has been getting long recently…

masterlist

“Babe can I borrow a hair tie?”

I don’t think you could have physically whipped your head around any faster than you did the second you heard those words come out of your boyfriend’s mouth.

“…babe…you there?” At this point he’s a bit concerned from your lack of response and pokes his head out of the bathroom

“Yea…yea just give me a sec” you reply as you get up off of the couch where you were lounging with Layla and go to see what your Jake is up to in the bathroom.

As you suspicions confirmed, you were met with the sight of your boyfriend attempting to tie his hair. You were hoping, praying even, for this day to come but nothing could prepare you for just how DELECTABLE your man looks. Yes that right, that’s YOUR MAN.

After your ogle session you hand him the hair tie he asked and continue to watch him attempt to put his hair back with the fondest smile on your face. Maybe even letting out a giggle or two seeing his pout of frustration when it didn’t end up how he wanted. Letting him suffer long enough you walk up behind him and wrap your arms around his torso and give him a kiss on his shoulder.

“You want me to do it for you Jakey” you playfully ask while holding back a giggle. He sighs turning around to hug you back before agreeing.

“Go sit on the floor in front of the couch and I’ll be there with the supplies.” He complied without complaint despite not knowing what you meant by supplies. Minutes later you return to the living room with the hair tie, a brush, hair clips, bows, literally anything you could put in his pretty hair because you were going to CAPITALIZE on this opportunity to style his long hair.

You settle behind him with his head in between your knees as he lets you card your fingers through his locks alternating between the brush and your hands. You gently gather his hair and neatly tie it into a ponytail leaving out a couple strands at the front. Since he seems so relaxed with Layla now laying her head in his lap on the floor, you decided to start to add more decoration. You wrapped a pink bow around the hair tie and some smaller clips symmetrically on either side of his head before giving his scalp a light peck to signify you were finished with your masterpiece.

You urge him to go check in the mirror and all you can hear are his little giggles saying how much he loves it.

“You should be my new hair stylist baby. I think the pink ribbons would really fit the Fatal Trouble choreo.” He teases as he curls up with you on the couch.

The rest of the evening you spent with him laying on your chest while you gently take the bows, clips, and hair tie out of his hair. He may not say it (he most definitely will), but his new favorite thing will be laying with you playing with his hair. You will most definitely be spending much more time with your hands in his hair. Hopefully this will be more of a drive from him to keep it long 🤭

GIVE ME A MOMENT. GIVE ME A MOMENT

[seoktized]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 — k.jw

jiwoong was sure he didn’t want another child until he saw you playing with your niece and suddenly.. all those worries he had were out the window.

genre: smut. mdni!

warnings: older!jiwoong, breeding kink maybe?, mating press, daddy kink. unprotected p in v sex, creampie, lmk if i missed anything!!

pairing: dilf!jiwoong (late 40s) x afab!reader (early/mid 20s)

word count: 1.9k

kinnie’s note: first installment of the dilf!zb1 series!! had to start off jiwoong hehe. i hope you all enjoy, and if you have any ideas for the other members, send them in my ask box!!

jiwoong was never fond of the idea of having another child with the fact that he was a lot older than he was when he had his first born. no amount of convincing could make him think otherwise; jiwoong was adamant about his decision.

being in his late forties, he figured he was past the baby days, instead wanting to focus on his career and his personal life which now included you.

his previous marriage had left him shattered and at that time he vowed to not let himself get too deep into any relationship again. but then he met you and all of that changed. you were the light of his life. you’d brought back happiness he thought he’d never experience again.

something deep down inside him felt bad because he knew you were much younger, wanting nothing more than to start a family and settle down with him as you were just stepping into adulthood. you hadn’t had the experiences he had.

but something about the whole thing unnerved him. the thought of those sleepless nights, the sound of crying ringing in his ears, and endless diapers had his decision set in stone: he was not going to have another child.

that was until he saw you playing with your niece at a family party.

he watches quietly from the porch as you chase her around, her little giggles ringing through the air as you lift her up, spinning her around. a soft smile plays on his lips, watching you do what you’ve always dreamed of.

for the first time in a while, jiwoong let his fears go and allowed himself to imagine what it’d be like to start a family with you, that same smile on your face as you held your newborn. the sight of you mothering another child made his heart flutter, wanting nothing more than to give you what you wanted.

the sound of your voice pulls him from his thoughts, looking up he sees you carrying your niece, who was rubbing her eyes tiredly. you say something about bringing her inside and jiwoong nods, letting you brush past him.

you return shortly, sitting down beside jiwoong on the stairs. you look over to him, noticing that he was in deep thought about something.

“you know,” he starts, his voice barely above a whisper, “i’ve been thinking,”

your eyes scanned his expression, sensing a shift in his demeanor, “yea? about what?”

jiwoong sighs, reaching out to grasp your hand, “i’ve been too.. stubborn. shutting you down everytime you mentioned having a family and.. i’m sorry.”

you shake your head, “jiwoong, i don’t want you to feel like you have to start a family with me.” squeezing his hand gently, you lean closer, resting your head on his shoulder. “you don’t have to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with.”

his eyes flicker down towards you before he returns his gaze to the yard in front of him. he swallows heavily, “i want to start a family with you. i was wrong to not consider it. consider how happy it’d make you.” jiwoong leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before he adds, “how happy it’d make us.”

his hand squeezes yours back, a content sigh escaping his lips. his thoughts go back to you holding your niece in your arms for a moment, ultimately sealing the deal for him. he wanted to start a family with you. he wanted to see that same smile on your face as you and your child greet him at the door.

“if you really want this.. i want to be sure that i can be the father and provider you and our child deserve.” jiwoong says, a bit of uncertainty still laced in his voice.

you sit up, cupping his cheeks gently, “you will, jiwoong. you’ll be the best dad to our baby.”

jiwoong leans into your touch, the warmths of your hands making his doubts fade into the background. he knew the journey would be hard, but that didn’t matter because he had you. and frankly that was all he needed.

jiwoong smiles, pulling you into a warm embrace, “can’t believe you wanna start a family with an old man,”

you pull away, looking at him with your jaw dropped, “shut up, you’re not old!” your hand slaps his chest gently as his laugh fills the air, warm and easy.

he pulls you back into his arms, his voice soft but still teasing, “i am! my knees creak with every move. i know you hear me groaning every morning.”

“i guess.. but everything else is still perfect. i love my old man,” you say, sliding your hand into his and intertwining your fingers.

jiwoong presses a kiss to your forehead, his finger going under your chin to lift your head. “i love you too. guess i’ve been all worried for nothing, huh?”

you nod, “you’ll be great, jiwoong. you already are and you always will be.”

jiwoong’s pulse quickens at your words, a wide smile present across his face as he realizes he’s ready for the future, as long as it’s with you. “if you’re sure about this, then lets do it, baby. let’s start our family.”

you return the smile, sealing the promise with a sweet kiss to his lips.

the car ride home was quiet other than the soft hum of christmas music playing on the radio. you glance over to jiwoong, a smile playing on your face as you study the face of your lover. the one who you wanted to be with forever.

“i can’t wait to spoil you rotten while you’re pregnant,” jiwoong suddenly says, taking his eyes off the road for a second to look at you. one hand leaves the steering wheel and moves to gently squeeze your thigh.

a giggle leaves your lips at his words, “you already do that, love,” you place a hand over the one on your thigh, returning the squeeze

his expression softens as he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

his hand is back on your lower thigh, slowly inching towards your heat. his eyes stay on the road as he slips his hand under your skirt, lightly tracing his fingers over your cunt as you shudder under his touch. out of the corner of your eye, you see him smirk as his fingers press against your damp panties.

“princess needs me, hm?” he rumbles, his voice thick with desire. you whimper in response, a small yes escaping your lips.

jiwoong pulls into the driveway and quickly puts the car in park before he leans over the console, pulling you into a rough, desperate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth as he claims you entirely.

he pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours, “c’mon, baby, let’s get inside and i’ll give you what you want.” he pants against your lips before getting out and opening your door for you. jiwoong takes your hand and leads you towards the house, eager to get you inside.

once your through the door, jiwoong’s hands are back on you, peeling your jacket off and throwing it to the side. his lips are back on yours as he pulls you closer, his hands snaking under your shirt. jiwoong pulls away, taking your hand and lets you lead him to the bedroom.

he walks you backwards, letting you fall back on the bed with a small thud before he climbs over you, hooking his arms on the underside of your leg to pull you closer. his eyes rake over your body as you lay under him, your lips wet and swollen and your pupils blown as you wait for him.

“so fucking beautiful,” he groans, moving off the bed to remove his pants. jiwoong leans forward, pulling you to the edge of the bed, pressing his bulge against your clothed heat. he grinds against you, wanting nothing more but to see you writhe and whine for him.

“woong, please,” you sigh, reaching down to pull at the waistband of his boxers. a faint smirk appears on his face before he shoves his boxers down, his thick cock springing out.

it was a matter of seconds before your skirt and panties were removed and thrown across the room, your cunt now pressed against his cock as he slides up and down your slick. “so wet.. me getting you pregnant got you like this?” he chuckles, slowly pressing the tip to your hole as you desperately cry out, “yes,” needing to feel him entirely.

jiwoong pushes your legs to your chest before he fully bottoms out, earning a loud moan from you. the position had his cock reaching deeper inside you than ever before. “fuck, princess, you’re so tight,” jiwoong groans, “daddy’s gonna put a baby in this tight little cunt,”

jiwoong starts a rough pace, broken moans of his name falling with every thrust of his hips. the way he rams into you, knocking the breath out of you from the force has you clenching around him tightly, your peak nearing almost too quickly.

"fuck, baby,” he pants, “i'll take such good care of you, princess. keep you comfortable and satisfied. you'll be the perfect little mommy for our baby." the grip he has on your quivering thighs loosens as he leans forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

you moan into the kiss, reaching up to pull at the hair on the nape of his neck. jiwoong’s hand that is now free goes between the two of you, rubbing circles on your clit. “cum for me, princess. wanna feel you squeeze my cock, fuck,”

the feeling of his cock drilling into you while his fingers rub at your clit has your eyes rolling back, pushing you closer and closer to sweet bliss. “daddy, i‘m so close,” you whine, “don’t stop, please,”

jiwoong grunts at your whines, doubling his efforts to get you to the edge. his cock throbs inside of you as almost he fucks you into the mattress, his heavy balls smacking against your ass with every thrust.

with a few more thrusts and nudges to the spot that made you see stars, jiwoong has you over the edge, thighs shaking under him as he continued to thrust into you.

“shit, fuck— that’s it, baby, cum for daddy, gonna knock you up just like you want,” his voice is more desperate and husky as he chases his own orgasm.

jiwoong stays true to his word, pressing himself flush against your body as his cock pulsates inside of you, thick ropes of cum painting your insides. “take it all, such a good girl,” he groans, rolling his hips a few times to make sure you take every last drop.

you whimper as jiwoong slides his softening cock out of your cunt, collapsing beside you on the bed. “thank you for changing your mind, woongie.” you sigh, reaching over to take his hand in yours.

jiwoong turns his head, a smile on his face as he looks at you, “of course, my love.”

as he looks at you, jiwoong sees the future with you all round with his baby and that glow every new mother gets. jiwoong mentally curses himself for being so stubborn with his previous decision, seeing how the thought of being a mother made you so happy.

the thought of starting over did scare him a bit, but as he watches you now, all that fear went away once he saw that same smile of yours that he fell in love with. his heart softens as he looks at you, realizing how deep he really loved you. at this moment, jiwoong knew he wouldn’t want it any other way, he wanted you, and the family you two would make together.

reblogs + feedback is greatly appreciated ♡

tags - @senazzzz @woongiez @taylorluvation

to be added, simply comment saying you want to be added to the list!

[chaosandmarigolds]

Okay, HEAR ME OUT-

Johnny as the gay best friend. You and Simon have been dating for a bit, everything’s great, he loves you, you’re utterly infatuated, except for one goddamn thing that always manages to piss Simon the fuck off whenever he sees it, and that’s how close you are to his mate, Johnny. I mean, he has nothing to worry about, he met the bastard when he was drunk and hitting on him (he swears he never did that, stop lying Simon), and they’ve been inseparable ever since. But him being friends with you? Oh, that makes his blood *boil*. Going shopping? Let him join you! No, it’s okay, Johnny and the rest of the girls on going on a girl’s trip. Wanna go out clubbing? It’s not safe! But no, Johnny’s gonna be the gay best friend that acts like their boyfriend so they don’t get hit on. Simon knows he shouldn’t complain, he just can’t help it! He is grateful at the end of the day, though, because you’re with someone he knows he can trust you with. (Simon would have his head on a platter is so much as a leaf blew in your direction)

No because I agree but in my personal opinion- yeah no I was about to be like nah Johnny is bi and then I got thinking about it and it’s either he’s either 100% straight or 100% gay and I think it’s the latter- (or he’s a flaming bisexual, who knows)

-

And like yeah, Simon is jealous but that’s just his nature- he’s jealous of your dog if you give it your undivided attention for longer than twenty minutes- all the same, he is not ‘jealous’ of Johnny but he’s jealous ya know?

All the same, Johnny grew up with sisters and most if his friends outside of the military are women- so it’s nice

“Dior lip oil.”

Simon looks up from the catalog he was currently looking for your Christmas present in, his face contorted into confusion. “Eh?”

“I dunnae, a guy I wen’ on a date with las week had it on- tastes good.”

Scribbles down the name, “How’d the date go.”

“Eh, borin.”

—

“Okay, so this is option A,” you hold up the red cocktail dress from where you had laid out the outfits, “And I thought-“

“Yea it goes wit-what’s her faces lil hair clipy she wears.” Johnny replied, having been the judge of the outfits you were choosing for a birthday party that night.

You nod, “Masie. Yeah, but the theme is technically supposed to be maroon and I only have-“ you grab the other knit dress, a start contrast in style, “In maroon.”

Simon, who had been watching from the kitchen island chirps up, “Jus wear the red one, you like that one more.”

With a shocked expression you look to your boyfriend, “No!”

“yea, Si-“ Johnny adds in, leaning back to look at him, “S like wearing your sandals on an op, dress code.”

“Oh.”

—

(Tiny lil dibble dabble because I have too much time on my hands. Thanks for the ask! 🤍🤍)

[urf4vsc0rpio]

hi scorpio. seeing the words "freak scale" in a pretty cursive font is something i never though id ever lay my eyes on. and yet here we are.

how about fluff cutie patootie romance sweetie pie scale? 1-10 of course. we gotta make sure ur wife isnt lacking.

-dani lovr xoxoxo freak bot

Dimitrescu Sisters Fluff Scale

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Nothing just fluff, def ooc

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: -

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: I thought it would be funny HAHHAHA Nways dinner is served <3

I had to lay on the floor sm times just thinking abt what else to add

Bela Dimitrescu

Fluff Scale: 11/10

Look me in the eye and tell me this woman is NOT touch starved. Exactly, you can't bcs it's true

Sure she's busy most of the time but that doesn't mean she won't make time for cuddles

Poor girl is constantly stressed and done w her sisters shenanigans, give her a hug...

"Mmm..." She would mumble w her face buried in your chest as you ran your fingers through her hair, asking her how her day went.

When u guys first dated, I don't think she'd enjoy physical touch that much but would soon warm up to it and demands it always every damn time

You could walk into her room, see her busy and stressed n allat. The second you sat yourself in her lap, she'd immediately drop everything she was doing just to pull you closer and bury her face in your neck/chest while mumbling how much she missed you or how nice you smell

Waking up early? Don't even think about it, she'd whine and pull you closer "Don't go...just a few more minutes..." proceeds to cuddle in bed for an hour. R u gonna complain? HELL NO

Oh you're cooking? Would stand behind you with her arms wrapped around your waist and her face buried in your neck. "Bela I'm cooking..." "You can manage"

The second you open your arms, she'd immediately launch herself into your embrace.

Enjoys having her hair played w

Little playful nibbles and kisses have her heart

Would definitely kiss you all over just to hear you laugh

She's definitely the type to purposely brush her fingers against yours

Adjusts your collar, scarf, or hair with focused care, showing her attention to detail and thoughtfulness.

Would tots rest her forehead against yours after a kiss

Cup her face and she'd immediately lean into your touch with a happy hum. Trust me on this, I can confirm this fact cuz I'm married to her w 2 cat babies.

Def goes to u when her day is shit, crawling into bed and just laying on top of u, resting her head against ur chest to listen to ur heartbeat

Ur heartbeat = Absolute comfort

Cassandra Dimitrescu

Fluff Scale: 8/10

Bold but starved that's fo sho

Def wouldn't shy away from physical affection once she’s comfortable with her lover. Lowkey a natural flirt but also secretly craves genuine closeness which she masks with her playful teasing bcs idk...she's just built like that. Skibidi Alpha core

"Hah! Me? Touch starved!? Never!" While having you trapped in her embrace, refusing to let you go when you tried to squirm away just to prove her wrong

Would casually initiate lil touches but lingers longer than necesarry despite saying she doesn't care abt physical touch cuz it's stupid

100% would tackle u down playfully, saying that it's "just for fun and to test your strength" when in reality this is her way of seeking closeness w u w/o asking for it and embarrassing herself...cough and her ego cough cough

Pulls you into her lap w no shame whenever u two r alone "What? I can't pull my lover into my lap anymore?"

She’d want to be the only one you touch or hold and wouldn’t hesitate to make it known.

When u two r alone, Cassandra would soften. She’d lay her head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat, maybe even play w ur hair

Think of a manly dude cuddling his gf, immediately acts like he wasn't just whining softly when he saw her recording. Yea that's her.

Bold but starved that's fo sho

Grumbles when u point out how much she enjoys cuddling, says she's just bored but refuses to let u escape her grip

Def wouldn't shy away from physical affection once she’s comfortable with her lover. Lowkey a natural flirt but also secretly craves genuine closeness which she masks with her playful teasing bcs idk...she's just built like that. Skibidi Alpha core

She'd never admit it but she craves being held as much as she loves holding u. After a stressful day, she might just pull you close and rest her head on ur chest, staying silent but clearly seeking comfort which u happily give

Daniela Dimitrescu

Fluff Scale: 13/10

No words, just look at her.

This woman is CLINGY and she is PROUD.

Clings onto you whenever she can

Around you 24/7, either standing near u or just all up in ur personal space, clinging onto u like a koala

"This is y/n, she loves her personal space" "This is Daniela, Daniela also loves y/n's personal space"

Would be all over her you, always seeking physical contact. Whether it’s holding hands, cuddling, or resting her head on their shoulder, she craves constant reassurance through touch.

Being close to u = Ultimate comfort

Unbothered by how clingy she is, as long as ur aware of how much she loves u (and ur personal space)

Would tackle u before saying "Just wanted to be near u :3"

Kisses out of the blue

Just like Bela, she enjoys having her hair played w

Would pout and whine when u try to get up "Dani I need to piss..." "Okay and??"

Would giggle mischievously when she manages to pull u back down, clearly happy that she got her way

Eventually (reluctantly...rlly reluctantly) lets u go when u genuinely need to go somewhere

Also like Bela, wouldn't let u leave her bed "It's too early to get readyy!! Stay with mee" Proceeds to miss breakfast

She’d insist on sitting in your lap or making u sit on her lap, laying her head in your lap, curling up beside you with her arms wrapped tightly around you, just anything that involves being near u, she loves it

If cuddling was a sport, she'd ALWAYS win.

You'd be the first person she finds after a hard day, wordlessly throwing herself into your arms

Drama queen.

"You...you refuse to give me the affection I so desperately crave...?" you just said you were busy "Oh! I am hurt!" W her hand against her forehead and the other one on her chest "This is torture!"

Ur nightly cuddles consist of Daniela either falling asleep in ur arms or falling asleep w u in her arms, clinging onto you tightly as if you might just disappear if she were to loosen her grip.

When she’s feeling emotional or scared, Daniela would def crawl into your arms and cling to you silently, just needing the reassurance of your presence. "Bad day?" "Mhm..." "I got you, lovebug. I'm here" "Mm..." followed by small sniffles while u trace gentle patterns on her back which btw have I mentioned that she loves it when u do that? It's like the ultimate source of calm

She’d love giving and receiving soft, lazy kisses

Def enjoys playfully nibbling u.

[cultofdixon]

It’s the thought that counts

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Baked goods to win the girl’s heart when yours was already his • SFW

Requested: Anon

“Yea think she’s gotten used to this place?” Daryl asks his best friend Carol while they were on the porch, her thinking they were watching everybody but of course he was watching a certain somebody.

“Yeah, I think she’s liking it so far. She is more careful than the others who sort of dived into this place”

“Good…that’s good” He crosses his arms leaning against the post next to the stairs as Carol leaned over the railing noticing his attention never leaving. “She livin’ with yea right?”

“Yeah, Y/N didn’t mind staying in Rick’s the first night or two but once I asked if she’d like to stay with me? She jumped at the opportunity” Carol is close to both Daryl and Y/N. Just one of them is more forward about their feelings.

“…she doesn’t want to be with me in the Grimes residence?” He didn’t even think for long about those words when he asked them. All he knew was the instant realization made him quickly avoid Carol’s smirking. “Fuck off”

“Y’know you’re going to be seeing them a lot right? You’re close friends and she’d rather be around you than anybody else”

“Why yea say that when she’s literally over there talking to this…Aiden fucker”

“Because he’s the head runner for the supply runs. Y/N got asked by Deanna to join said group for her job here”

Daryl scoffs bringing his gaze to the ground. “Bet yea that son of a bitch is flirtin’ with her”

“You care too much and see so little. She’s coming over” Carol whispers the last part causing Daryl to straighten up brushing off dirt or whatever was on his person, nothing. “Hey Y/N”

“Hey! Hey Dar” Y/N smiles at the archer watching him return that smile of his. “I’m glad I saw you were out here”

“Oh yeah?” Carol smiles with intentions that Y/N caught on making her role her eyes as Daryl was left clueless. “Why is that?”

“That Aiden guy?” Y/N gestures with her head. “Makes me really uncomfortable…I’m gonna try and get Deanna to let be on the recruiting team”

“Yea wanna help them bring people in?”

“You’d be good at it.” Carol adds to Daryl’s concern with a bit of a bright side. But Y/N respects the honesty. “But be careful with these people yknow? Aaron is part of the recruiters and they are nice but—“

“I know how to take care of myself…it’s honestly just to have a reason to get outside the walls without needing an escort”

The two look at each other confused as Y/N gestured with her head toward the brothers talking to each other.

“They think I can’t handle myself” She laughs in response to both of them scoffing. “Anyway, I’ve gotta go talk to Deanna and hopefully Maggie can help me convince her…I shouldn’t be out long”

Carol nods smiling, thankful, that she keeps her update and more importantly him. Daryl watches Y/N leave the porch as a thought came to mind.

“Is she going to the party?”

“I don’t know. But I am, to get on people’s good side. Why?”

“I don’t know…if she ain’t then I guess…uh I could…uhhh…”

The woman couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her throat making her friend the archer blush out of embarrassment. She gently grabbed his bicep ushering him inside and deciding to help him.

About an hour or two has passed and Y/N entered the home with a bit of an exhausted look to her complexion. A small smile graces her features as she makes her way into the kitchen finding Carol making another casserole, at least with all the ingredients it looks like she was doing that.

“Another casserole?” Y/N smiles bringing herself to the kitchen island finding all the different items on the counter. “Smells good”

“Oh yeah, another one. The one I’m making is for us though…and a few cookie batches to win some people over”

“Who woulda thought you can make all these things with what this community has found over however long this place has been around…” Her smile falters for a second before she shook off that feeling. “I’m gonna see what they have for anything comfortable. I’ll be back in like. An hour…ish”

“Going to take advantage of the shower and hot water?”

“If I could live in it, I would” Y/N laughs on her way out and the second she left the kitchen, Daryl groans getting up off the floor.

“You didn’t have to do that”

“Didn’t want her to see me” Daryl brought the bowl over with half the cookie dough since a batch was already baking. “Don’t want to spoil shit”

“Well, hate to break it to yea but I don’t think she’s going to want burnt cookies” Carol states indicating they both missed the timer going off as Daryl quickly turns around to pull the batch out.

After Y/N got ready for the evening, thankfully finding leggings and a sweater to wear, she brought herself back to the kitchen finding no Carol but Daryl beating himself up about the batch of cookies in front of him. He was tapping one against the counter telling them both how hard it was.

“Messing with one of Carol’s failed batches?” Her voice startled him out of his thoughts as he sets the cookie he was messing with down trying to think of the words.

“Uh. Yeah” He doesn’t want to say it’s his. “She’s gettin’ another tupperware container from Rick’s”

Y/N took a seat at the island reaching over and taking a cookie as Daryl gives her a concerning look. “What?”

“They’re burnt”

“But not all of it. ‘Sides Id always eat my dad’s burnt cookies whenever he tried to make them.” Y/N broke apart the cookie eating the bits that weren’t burnt too bad. “They are really good, props to the chef”

I’m right here and I should just fucking say I made them Daryl couldn’t help the small twitch in the corner of his lips as he watches her take a few more before taking her leave after telling him she’ll skip out on the casserole.

Before she completely disappeared, Daryl quickly rounded the island as his fast pace made Y/N stop giving him a questioning but curious look.

“I-…Sorry. Forgot what I was gonna say”

“That’s okay. Come find me when you do remember, Dar” Y/N smiles warmly, heading back upstairs with the cookies he made as he watches her go.

Felt like perfect timing for Carol to come back watching Daryl stare upstairs smiling a bit to herself when she noticed his emerge.

“Talk to Y/N?”

“Yeah”

“About…asking her out or?”

“No…” His shoulders slumped slightly as he brought himself to look at his friend. “Anyway. Another batch or should we try and get the dessert?”

“You’re lucky I found a cake tin at Rick’s and I’ll take care of it. Gotta make it perfect” Carol smiles heading toward the kitchen once more. “But you can help, and it’s the thought that counts”

“Always”

Daryl found out through Maggie that Y/N was going to go to the party. Taking the opportunity to scout around the entire community to ease her anxiety and Rick’s. So he was going to wait til she returned to the house to present her with the dessert he (well Carol) made.

Cheesecake. It was HARD. Like real fucking hard. But thank god there’s a vegan option that Carol found in one of the old cookbooks in the house.

“Hey Daryl” Aaron’s voice caught the man off guard as he was following Y/N a moment to make sure she was alright and none of Deanna’s sons were being annoying. “How are yea holding up?”

“Fine. Ain’t going to the party?”

“Eric’s house bound so I was never gonna go but least you thought about it.” Aaron smiles at the archer taking his chance. “Wanna have some dinner? It’s spaghetti”

The archer knew it’d be a while before Y/N made her way back so he took the opportunity and it was a good one. He had a reason for himself to enjoy this place a bit.

Y/N turned away from the window when she heard the knock on her door. Half expecting Carol on the other side but she was happily met with Daryl after he had gotten back from dinner and receiving a bike frame. She was going to ask if he himself went to the party but her eyes were drawn to the cheesecake held in his hands.

“Did you make that?” A bit of a spark in her eyes caught all of Daryl’s attention as he nods fighting back a smile when hers emerged. “Wow…how did…how is it even possible without milk?”

“Cashews apparently…or whatever kind of nut that can be made into milk..” Daryl thought back to the mini argument he and Carol had while making the nut milk about said substitute.

“…Cheesecake is my favorite, I’ve only ever told you that.” She smiles taking the plate when it was handed to her as she couldn’t contain her laughter. “I can’t eat all of this tonight”

The two found themselves back in the kitchen as Daryl let Y/N cut herself a slice about to cut him one when he objected. Given he made it for her.

“We can share then” Y/N smiles wrapping up the main cake and tossing it in the fridge before grabbing two forks for the one slice. “You really didn’t have to make this for me…”

“I wanted to” He felt the heat rise in his cheeks as Y/N couldn’t help but match the same blushing expression on herself. “I’ve always wanted to do this…as if like…”

“Asking me out?” Her tone shifted and Daryl first heard it as confusion but then thought it over and remembered hearing the bit of excitement in her voice. “This…is definitely…”

The small pause caught his whole undivided attention as his eyes looked at her waiting for more watching her take a bite of the cake and absolutely enjoying it.

“One of the greatest things to happen to me” Y/N smiles enjoying the cake sliding it over for him to get a taste of his work. Thought the way he took a bite and enjoyed it more than what a typical baker would with their own work. She knew he didn’t make it, she knew the thing he made were the burnt cookies that she did enjoy.

“Uhm. So…Do you—-“

“I’d love to, Dixon” Y/N continues to smile bringing herself around the island and gaining a bit of courage to press a kiss to his cheek. The smallest affection and impact making him lean into it and chase for another that she would happily give. “It took you long enough…and can I just say something?”

“‘Course” Daryl gave her the smallest smile as Y/N pulled herself close bringing her lips to his ear.

“I think I like the cookies you made more” She whispers with a smile, giving him one more kiss on the cheek which permanently left the blush on his cheeks before pulling away and taking the plate.

[musicfueled]

hihi ignore if you want or if you dont write him but if you perchance write for shino aburame (naruto or boruto version idm which) then could i maybe get a little something with him anything is fine thank you and please have a good day :3

Of course!! I'll include some general headcanons, relationship headcanons, then a little story :D I kept it sfw for now but if you'd like nsfw you can ask for that too! (You can dm or submit another ask, either is fine! I also kept the reader gender neutral, so if you want that to be changed you can also add that)

Thank you so much for the request! <33

Rolly Polly | Shino x reader

Shino Aburame x reader SFW

Contents: Headcanon bulletpoints, story, established relationship, neurodivergent Shino, reader is also implied neurodivergent but it's not brought up much, mention of bugs, mention of Hinata having a crush on Naruto

Headcanons

-This man is absolutely autistic no doubt about it. Probably doesn't like stuff touching his face and his eyes are sensitive to light which is why he covers so much

-Feel like he's gender apathetic or agender but comfortable with he/him pronouns or just his name

-Scary amount of knowledge of bugs. Obviously as a bug user he knows a lot, but like, he knows more than the rest of his family. Full on studies even bugs that he has no need to know of. Probably his special interest

-Speaking of bugs, perhaps an odd headcanon but I think his bugs will choose you if they think you're right for him; a type of blessing. They'll occasionally hop onto you when you and Shino are hanging out, or sometimes Shino will send some with you to make sure you're safe. Of course, if you tell him you don't like the bugs being on you, he'll stop doing it/have the bugs not move to you.

-Not a fan of excessive pda. I think maybe he'll hold your hand often but no kissing in public or anything. He's a more private guy.

-In private though, I think he'd be quite touch-clingy. Even if it's just a hand on your arm while you're sitting next to each other doing your own things, he appreciates being constantly affectionate. However, I think he'd get overstimulated if it's too much for too long. Doesn't like a bunch of cuddling when you're going to sleep. I can imagine him liking your head resting on his chest, your arms being intertwined, legs touching, or holding hands while falling asleep. Something to make you guys feel close, but not enough to feel overwhelming.

-Probably has one or two special petnames for you

-Big on formal dates. He likes taking you out to eat at fancy restaurants, however I can't see him getting super dressed up. Probably more neat than usual, but not super divergent from his usual look.

-But also is down for more casual dates like fast food/more informal food places, parks, amusement parks, etc. as long as they're not too loud

-Also hates loud noises. I think overall he gets overstimulated easily

-Not a fan of his body/showing much skin. If you guys were ever to be intimate,

-You have to like his friends; although he isn't super outgoing towards them, they mean a lot to them, especially Hinata and Kiba. As a team they've become so close that it's one for all.

Short story

You were lounging outside of your home, enjoying the sunlight. You were expecting Shino to come by, but weren't sitting out here just to wait. You wanted to indulge in your surroundings and relax a bit, to get a break from the monotony of your room. You look down and see a rolly polly walking by near the leg of your outdoor bench. You smile at the little guy, since you've formed an interest in bugs through extension of your partner.

You hear someone walk closely, thinking nothing of it, since your place is near a main street. However, the footsteps stop.

"Ah, an Armadillidium vulgare. Do you like those?" You hear Shino's voice from behind you, causing you to turn back and face him, smile still plastered on your face. You nodded. "Yea, I think they're neat."

"Did you know they have gills? They're crustaceans." He said, sitting down next to you.

"No, I didn't! That's interesting."

You guys fell into a comfortable silence as he intertwined his fingers with yours. You sat there together for a bit, enjoying the company.

After a while, you break the silence.

"What type of day is it hun? We staying in, going out?" You look at him.

"Perhaps we could go on a walk?" He proposed.

"That sounds like a good idea. Let me get a better outfit on and we can go, 'kay? You can either sit out here or come in, up to you!" You smile.

"Alright, I'll sit inside and wait."

You two walk inside and he sits down on your couch. You find your way to your room and change into a comfortable outfit, putting on your shinobi sandals and konoha headband. You finish off with the perfume/cologne that you knew Shino liked the most; it wasn't very strong but prominent enough to smell, which he liked. You grabbed your wallet and phone just in case, tossing the former in your back pocket. Entering your living room, you see Shino attempting to brush what you assumed to be dog fur off his jacket.

"Hung out with Kiba recently?" You ask, grabbing your lint roller and handing it to him.

"Yea. He wanted me to see a new jutsu he created for him and Akamaru. It needs work, but it was a good idea. You should ask him about it sometime." He said, tone as flat as ever, but you could tell he was admiring Kiba's work.

"I will! I'm always excited to see what Kiba's up to, he's a pretty cool guy. What about Hinata, what's she been up to?" You ask, intrigued.

"The usual. Lots of training, lots of gushing about Naruto. I don't get how he doesn't see right through her, she's so painfully in love with him, it's clear."

"He's... a bit of an airhead."

"That's one way to put it."

"Pff- anyway, you ready?" You ask.

"Yea. Let's go." He replied, getting up.

You both exit your home and you lock the door before you both interlock hands again.

You enjoyed a nice walk around the surrounding woods, allowing him to share information about any insects the two of you encountered. This was you two's favorite activity- it was a great way to bond, given Shino's difficulty having normal conversations due to his autistic lack of social skills. You also got times to talk about interests, though. He made sure it wasn't just him talking about things he enjoyed; he wanted to know you just as much.

As the sun set, you guys headed back to your house. You assumed he was walking you home, but when you were near your destination, he spoke.

"Can I stay with you tonight? I'd like some affection."

You look at him and smile, pleasantly surprised by his request. "Of course! Do you wanna go by your place and get something to wear? If not I might have some stuff you could fit" You offer.

"No need to walk all that way, I can either take my jacket off or borrow something."

"Alright!" The smile was evident in your voice.

You were practically skipping as you completed your walk home together. You unlocked the door and slipped off your shoes, eager to decompress after being out for so long. He does the same, for the same reasons. He takes his coat off and folds it neatly, laying it on the arm of your couch, same place he always does. You both gradually find your way to your room after grabbing a snack. Nothing messy, because he often got on you for having crumbs on your bed.

He ended up asking for a different shirt, which you happily obliged. Knowing Shino wasn't a fan of tight clothes, you gave him one of your bigger shirts.

He didn't bother stepping out of the room to change, feeling plenty comfortable being in the same room while he did. You didn't see him shirtless much, so you got flustered when he did, admiring him wholesomely. He noticed, getting a bit flustered himself. Shino isn't particularly proud of his body, so its heartwarming to know you like it. He tosses the shirt on and joins you in bed.

"You're so handsome." You say as you snuggle up to him.

"Thank you, my lunar moth." He chuckles nervously, but in a good way.

You both lay down, and you rest on his chest as he puts on some documentary about something you both like. You quickly fall asleep, happy it was with him.

[frannyzooey]

The Dinner

Marcus Moreno x f!college reader

The Secret Universe

Rating: Explicit, Daddy Kink™ (seriously, like a lot)

A/N: I have many people to thank for this one: @imaswellkid @the-ginger-hedge-witch @whatsnewalycat @obiknights and the amazing @the-scandalorian - every single one of them gave me the most amazing advice, but also gave me endless reassurance when I needed it, and I could never thank them enough. Sometimes it really takes a village ❤

--

“How is stats this semester? Need any help?” 

You take a slow sip of your ice water, listening. 

“It’s okay,” Missy replies. “Better, now that I signed up for tutoring during my free period, which — “ she points her fork at her father, who currently has a slightly smug expression on his face, “— totally sucks. I know you said it would help, and it did, but at what cost, dad?”

His shoulders move as he huffs a laugh and he pokes around his dinner plate, spearing some roasted broccoli. Shrugging, he glances at you. “Is a couple of hours a week impacting your guys' social life that bad?”

“No, sir,” you answer with a polite smile. 

The title slips off your tongue with ease, and his playful expression falters for a moment. 

Clearing his throat, he shifts in his chair. “That’s what I thought.” 

He takes a swallow of his water — a small sip, then a larger one — and the three of you continue to eat. 

The dining room where you sit is seldom used, but cozy. The lighting dim but inviting, the sparse surface of the table lends it a more formal appearance and you think about how much you would have preferred to eat at the table in the kitchen. The one you passed earlier, cluttered with mail, magazines, keys, and other things that never really have any other home than a flat surface in the kitchen. 

Eating there would have made you feel more at ease. Eating here makes you feel more like a guest. And with Marcus at the head of the table, the formality of the seating arrangement pulls at you: a constant reminder of who he is. 

Forks slide against plates, glasses being set down with a muted thud on the wooden surface of the table and when Missy reaches for another bread roll, a glance over at him has you noticing his body language.  

He’s looking everywhere but you – at a painting on the wall, at his half eaten plate, at the condensation gathering on his glass. He lets his hand rest around the glass, his thumb swiping through the water and a thrumming, heady pulse that Missy seems oblivious to grows until it fills the space between your chairs. 

Swallowing, you place your elbow on the table near his own. A muscle twitches in his jaw, and his attention turns back to Missy. 

“What else is new?” he asks. “I never hear from you anymore. The room still okay? The bed still make that funny noise?”

Missy frowns, holding a bite of chicken aloft in front of her mouth. “How did you know about that?” 

Marcus sits up straight, shifting again in his chair and opening his mouth as if getting ready to speak, but Missy interrupts him. 

“Oh yea, it was there on move in day,” she remembers. “Whatever. No, we got that tool kit out that you gave me at the beginning of the year and fixed it yesterday. A real girl boss moment.”

She looks over at you and grins, and you return it despite the rapid beat of your heart.

“Yea,” you add, not allowing your eyes to stray from her face. “You killed it.”

You can feel his eyes on you, aware out of the corner of your eye how they slide down your frame and back up again. Whether he’s conscious of it or not, he’s been doing it all night and you want nothing more than to return the look, but you don’t. 

“You ladies have any plans for the weekend?” Marcus asks. 

Missy nods, excitement filling her eyes. “Yea, I think so? I got laundry and stuff to catch up on, but there is this party tomorrow night I wanna go to. I got a text about it earlier, I think it’s around 8ish?”

A small frown appears between Marcus’s brows. “Where’s it at? Around here?”

“Yea, I think so? I’m not really sure. I’ll have to look up the address or something.”

He doesn’t like that answer, you can tell by the way his frown doesn’t go away and you chance a peek at his face while he’s distracted. A pulsing beat gathers between your thighs, at both the sternness of his expression but also the care behind it. 

“Well,” he continues, taking another bite of dinner. “Let me know, okay? I’ll drop you off and pick you up.”

“Dad,” Missy playfully whines. “You’re embarrassing me.”

He rolls his eyes, stretching his legs out under the table and when one of his knees knocks into yours, you still. 

His eyes glance down, a short, apologetic smile showing briefly in your direction but he doesn’t move it. It stays there, his leg shifting just enough to press against yours with intent and as the dinner goes on, you resist the urge to smile. 

–

You met them both for the first time on move-in day. 

Cars lined along the driveway to the dorms with their trunks crammed full of new bedding and boxes and the bare essentials for kitchens and showers, you noticed them right away. 

Missy, true to the picture she emailed you weeks ago when introducing herself as your new roommate, and Marcus, when he stepped around the side of the car to open the trunk. Close-cropped dark hair shone browner in the sun, the strands neatly combed into place, yet slightly curled with the humidity. His shirt stretched tight across his wide shoulders, tucked neatly into dress pants that fit him perfectly. The fabric pulled across his back when he leaned forward to reach in for the first boxes and when Missy shouted your name, he turned around. 

You had to pull your eyes away from his face to greet her with a shy smile. 

He stuck around the entire morning – making sure the lofts were set up correctly, helping move furniture, his kind, good humored eyes on his daughter as he took in her first day at college. He offered to take the two of you out to lunch in celebration, but before you could reply, Missy shooed him away. 

“We’re gonna go grab a coffee or something. Get to know each other. You can get outta here, dad. Thanks for the help.”

You could tell she genuinely meant it, but the paltry thanks wasn’t enough in your opinion. He had already done more than your parents had ever done for you, and you wondered what it was like to grow up in a house where it happened so often you took it for granted. Your parents hadn’t even bothered to give you a ride on your first day, you had taken the bus with your meager boxes. 

He humored her, giving her a soft smile and when he turned to say goodbye to you, you made sure to hold his gaze when you thanked him. 

“Not a problem,” he replied sincerely. “It was really nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

–

The two of them clear the plates while you grab what you can from the table, and it’s apparent that they have their own shorthand method of communication with each other. She clears, he starts the dishwater. She empties scraps into the trash to stack plates neatly by the sink, and when you help her, his eyes linger on your mouth when he turns to say thank you. 

A routine that had never taken place in your own home, you revel in the roles everyone plays. The comfort of them, the domesticity. You imagine the two of them doing this every night before Missy left for college, and the mental image of Marcus standing at the sink with his t-shirt stretched over the strong muscles of his back warms you from the inside out. Even more when you think about him reminding Missy to clear her place, or asking her what she wants in her lunch tomorrow. 

The qualities of a dad: one who does because he cares, but also guides. 

Done clearing, Missy leaves the room, the telltale sound of the washer door opening down the hall, and Marcus stills at the sink, listening. 

“Listen, don’t jam it all in there like last time, okay?” he warns, his eyes looking up at the ceiling. “You can do more than one load. No rush, Missy, okay?”

“Yea, yea, I got it,” she yells back, and he sighs, shaking his head. You meet his eye in a knowing look, and the corner of his lips pulls up in a rueful smile. 

“She almost broke it last time, trying to fit about a month of clothes in all at once.”

You laugh, and nod. “She does that at the dorm too.” 

He shakes his head, pushing his hands into the water. 

“You don’t need to use those machines — either of you. You’re always welcome to come over and do it here,” he offers, searching in the sudsy water for a plate. Finding it, he begins scrubbing it with a rag. “Either of you. Even if she can’t come, you can.”

A pause.

“Anytime you want.”

The invitation hangs between the two of you in the silence, and you keep your eyes on his forearms as they flex above the suds. A sudden, unbidden image of them flexing between your thighs flashes through your mind, the weight of his fingers felt inside you. 

His voice lowers. “We could even plan it that way, so we don’t have to keep…“

He gives you a knowing look, and guilt gnaws at you as you listen to Missy hum in the next room.  

“It’s not that I don’t want that,” you explain, your voice keeping quiet. “I just don’t want…” Uncertainty flashes across your features and when you look up, you find that he’s already looking at you. 

“Don’t want what?” he asks. 

Unsure how to put your fear into words, you hesitate. Moving your meetings to his house somehow makes them more of an offense in your mind. In the space he shares with his daughter; their family home. 

The duality of the man standing next to you has been messing with you all night: the Marcus that stands beside you now versus the Marcus that you know. The unassuming, kind face of a good father masking the hooded lust you know his eyes contain. The strength held in his arms when he takes the trash out; the flex of them under your bare knees when he spreads you wide. His plush bottom lip in a soft smile for his daughter; the same pressing against your skin, your mouth, between your legs. 

A secret shadow follows him around constantly, fleeting slices of the man you know appearing if you watch him long enough. His throaty laugh, the spread of his thighs on the couch, the flex of his jaw.

Seeing him here in his kitchen or at the head of the dining room table has the men merging in your mind despite your ability, until now, to keep them separate. You pull your bottom lip into your mouth with your teeth, thinking. 

“Don’t want what?” he repeats, softer this time, tenderness curling around the words and you’re about to answer when Missy walks back into the kitchen. 

“Hey, you don’t have to help him with that. I got it.”

He stands taller, shifting away from you and you back up from the sink, making room for her. She immediately scoops a delicate mound of bubbles and flicks them at Marcus, laughing when he grimaces with a chuckle. The teasing makes you smile.

He’s so good with her — so patient, and kind, and attentive. So genuinely invested in her answers in a way you’d never experienced, and though you are happy for your best friend in that she has such a doting parent, you’d be lying if you said a little jealousy never crept into your heart when you watched them. 

Not because you wanted either of them to choose you, but because they so clearly had each other. Someone to depend on; a traditional parental/child relationship full of trust and respect and love. 

You watch them for a moment as they work in tandem, their mannerisms similar from behind. 

“I’m gonna take a shower before bed,” you announce, and excusing yourself from the room, you leave them to finish the dishes. 

—

“I didn’t think you were gonna come.”

Down the hall from his room and across from Missy’s, the guest bedroom door clicks shut quietly in the dark. The shuffle of sheets whispering as you shift to make room for him in the bed, the mattress dips when he joins you, the heat of his body felt close. His hands reach for you, pulling you closer and there are no other words spoken as his mouth meets yours, deepening the kiss immediately. 

His tongue slides against your own, your taste familiar and maddeningly addictive, and he groans deeply into it, rolling you onto your back. 

Beneath the solid weight of his body is your favorite place – secure, safe, desired, wanted. Trapped between the soft bed and the scent of his warm skin, his mouth takes and takes and takes from yours until you’re drunk with arousal beneath him, wanting to stay there forever. 

“I wanted you so bad at dinner,” he breathes in a low confession. “So fucking bad, even when you walked through the door.”

Every one of his words is matched with a weighted grind of his hips into the cradle of your thighs, and you roll right back against him, a soft sound catching in your throat at the delicious pressure. There is something that makes you weak about his voice in general, but when he swears – especially in his desperation to express how much he’s wanted you – it lights a path straight from your ears to your center; need blooming fierce and bright.

You would tell him how much you thought about him just as much if his mouth didn’t immediately cover yours again, and pushing your fingers through his close-cropped dark hair, you match his urgency. Your knees hitch higher around his broad torso, your thighs tightening with every flex of your hips up and the stiff length of his cock underneath his sleep pants fits perfectly along the damp seam darkening your underwear. 

You can feel the thick ridge of it, aching for the filling heft as he grinds his hips against you again and again, and whimpering for more underneath him, the words slip out. 

“Please, daddy.”

He stills for a split second, breaking the kiss as a shudder slips through him and a wash of embarrassed heat floods your face, but it’s quickly replaced with arousal when he groans as if in pain, his furrowed brow pressed into the plane of your chest. 

His hand splays against your side to keep you in place with a pained press of his fingers. “Jesus Christ, baby, you can’t — you can’t say things like that. Please. Please.”

“But I want it,” you whisper. 

You do. You’ve wanted it ever since you met him, just knowing by looking at him that he would give you what you need. So thoughtful, so considerate and kind, so attentive and warm but also very much a man – a handsome, understated man with needs that showed clear on his face every time you met him after that first time. 

The second, third, fourth time you met him, the flicker of interest in his dark brown eyes. 

The magnetic, heady pulse of attraction that filled the small room when he showed up once while Missy was at class. 

The lunch that he invited you to instead of her, and the undivided attention he gave you from across the table. The way he reminded you to buckle your seatbelt, and the way you leaned over and kissed him when he waited a beat too long reluctantly saying goodbye outside your dorm, on the street.  

That first, tentative kiss after he followed you back to your room at the reassurance Missy had classes that afternoon, and the frown furrowed between his brows, both at how wrong it was to want this and relief at finally giving in. 

The soft cotton of your sheets sliding against your bare back, the way his body seemed too big for the narrow twin. 

His giving mouth, soothing guidance rumbled in his deep voice. 

Something that’s taken root in your mind with every time he brings you to bed, you don’t know how else to describe how you want to be tucked into his side to be made felt safe and secure, while also fucked deep into the mattress until you’re sobbing with fullness. 

Being here with him has made the need for it unbearable, and what you do know is that no matter what you want, he’ll give it to you. 

Your confession is a quiet one that lingers in the air and he looks up, his doleful, brown eyes finding yours. They stay there, searching for the truth and when he finds it in your slightly ashamed expression, he pulls himself up until you are face to face. 

“Yea?” he asks, soothing stray hairs at your temple. “You want a daddy?”

The word gives him pause, but his cock hardens painfully against the cool sheets and when you nod, the vulnerability shown on your face is so open that he finds himself mirroring it, wanting to soothe. 

He not only understands but wants, so very badly.  

“Okay, okay,” he agrees. The tension in your body drains as you soften underneath him; pliant and moldable for his needs. “Say it again, baby.”

“Daddy,” you whisper in a relieved rush, your plush lips parting only just. 

His hooded eyes watch the word slip from your mouth, and his thumb skates along the plump cushion of your bottom lip, before pushing just inside. He slides his thumb over the wet muscle of your tongue, letting you suck on it. 

Bright need swells and aches between his thighs, your soft, lush skin slipping against his as you squirm in need underneath him and he slips his thumb from your mouth before pressing his lips to yours with a rough kiss. 

Desperate to feel the clutch of your tight, wet cunt, he reaches down to open you up for him, his hand slipping beneath your panties and his fingers sliding with a familiar swipe through your soaked curls. He finds the dip where you need him most, your arousal soaking the pads of his competent touch and his breathing quickens, his eyes flitting between your face and his cotton covered hand. 

The same fingers that made dinner, that queued up the movie, that clasped under his chin when he listened to Missy talk. The same ones that held the steering wheel in a loose grip as he drove you to the store.

They’ve slid into your mouth before, and then your cunt. Brushed against the puckered rim of your asshole, swirled with divine pressure over your clit, and filled you to the brim until you cried out, your cunt a snug slip around them. 

Two fill you now with an urgent slide, the action making him swallow the soft catch of your whine and the ease in which he slips them in and out is aided by how wet and ready you are for him. 

Always so wet; his perfect girl.

“When you called me ‘sir’ at the dinner table,” he pants, nuzzling the bridge of his nose along your jaw as he looks down at his hand. Your thighs open wider for him, and you softly moan, chasing the thick fill of his fingers. “I almost fucking lost it. So sweet. So sweet, baby.” 

“Just – just for you.” Your brow furrowed in pleasure, you chase what he’s building inside you, your small hand slipping down to cover his larger one. Your fingers push over his, guiding him as if he needs it, and the both of you get lost in the slick, consuming motion; his eyes glued on your parted mouth. “I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to say it. The daddy thing, I –”

“Don’t be sorry. No, fuck. Don’t be sorry, baby. I wanna hear it. I want it.”

His soothing words wash over you, your cunt accepting him deeper as he adds a third finger and before he gives you time to adjust, he’s slipping them from your wet heat, sliding them into his mouth with a suck. He groans with a frown, his lashes dark against his face as his eyes flutter shut and he shifts abruptly down the bed. 

His fingers grip the band of your underwear and tug them roughly down your legs before the width of his shoulders forces your knees apart. The heat of his mouth felt in a humid gust against your spread, bared seam, he tugs you tight to his face, and the emptiness left by the sudden absence of his fingers is immediately replaced with his thick, eager tongue. 

“Marcus!”

His whiskered cheeks brushing roughly against the tender skin on the inside of your thighs, he devours your cunt, his back flexing as he nearly pushes you up the bed in his hunger if not for the way his hands curl around the top of your thighs to hold you in place.  

“Shhh, baby. Shhh,” he reminds you, and you let out a quiet sob, clasping your hand over your mouth. 

He’s so much, a sensory overload being amplified by the darkness around you: the needy grip of his large hands, the slick slide of his tongue, the muffled groans he’s letting out between your legs. 

“You taste so good, baby,” he breathes, his mouth dragging damply over the inside of your thigh with a thick kiss before he licks your clit with the flat of his tongue. He slides it from side to side with pressure, a motion that makes you bow off the bed. 

Mindless with pleasure, you’re overcome with the need to anchor yourself to something — the direct attention is so much, too much — and your hands fist the sheets, your back arching. 

“I washed it just for you, daddy.”

You should be embarrassed but all traces of shame are turned to cinder the second he groans deep and loud, the sound muffled by the way he immediately buries his face with an open mouthed kiss. It’s messy and decadent, his tongue pushing inside you and then it swipes lower. 

Your hips jolt up to meet it; his low, satisfied groan sounding between your cheeks. 

“Fuck,” you whine, the tip of his tongue pressing against the tight ring of muscle before he flattens it to lick a wide, wet stripe from the seam of your ass all the way to your clit. Another one, before he gives your soaked entrance a hungry kiss and the pressure of his face being buried so deep makes you grind against him, your hips moving in time with his, as he seeks his own relief against the sheets. 

“I’m gonna — I’m gonna fucking come. Daddy, you’re gonna make me come.” 

It’s a plea if he’s ever heard one, and he zeroes his focus in on your clit — circling it with his tongue before giving it a light suck. He keeps going as you thread your fingers into his hair with a tug, keeps going as you press your lips together to try to stifle your moans, and keeps going when your thighs tense around his cheeks and you come with a breathless whimper; his tongue swiping hungrily through the salt of your release.

All tension in your body gone, he kisses a path slowly up your body while you lay and catch your breath – up over the top of your thigh, the rounded curve of your hip, the soft, plush underside of your breast. 

He cradles you to his chest, tugging you onto your side as his mouth drags along the line of your neck. He kisses a path over the skin and your hips shift, seeking his out. He can feel you squirming, looking for relief and bellies together, he rolls you onto your back, your hands working together to push his pajama bottoms down and off. 

Your touch is back to frantic as he pulls from your mouth, his hands cradling the sides of your head to keep you in place as he gets his fill and you wind your legs around his waist, encouraging him to push inside. 

He does – a motion that makes your moan get lost underneath his deeper one – and the snap of his hips is immediate and hard, the filling weight of his cock pushing the air from your lungs. 

His lips kiss your closed eyelids, his tongue sweeping over the salt rimmed lashes where a tear lingers and his mouth finds the fragrant, soft skin below your ear. His lips press against it, his mustache tickling you, the roll of his hips never ceasing. 

“You’re being so good for daddy. So good.”

Your eyes open and find his, and he throbs with how sincerely vulnerable you look underneath him right now, desperate to know you’re being good. 

“You’re such a good girl. Always letting me fuck you the way I want. Always letting me take care of you, like you take care of me.” His lips find the corner of your mouth, the delicacy of the kiss in contrast with the way you have to dig your nails into his broad back to hang on as he fucks you harder and he pulls back just enough to look at your face.

“You’re so good, aren’t you, baby. Aren’t you.”

It’s not a question for you to answer, but rather a statement he needs you to confirm and you nod, a tiny frown of pleasure appearing between your brows as you shift rhythmically underneath him. 

“My baby,” he murmurs, catching your mouth in a deep kiss. “My baby.” 

Your hand trails down the line of his spine and splays over his tailbone, sweat beading along the skin as he fills, fills, fills and you widen your thighs, digging your fingers into the swell of his ass to force him deeper. 

“Please, daddy. Please.”

His hips shift into a slow, weighted grind when you beg using those words. He never pulls all the way out, rather forcing himself so deep into the heart of you that you tremble with the need to come underneath him. 

“You’re so fucking pretty. So pretty when you’re gonna come.”

His praise fills you with light from the inside out, pouring out through your sweat damp skin where it’s flush with his own and another tear slips free; your release both a bright, shining edge that he’s guiding you towards and a strong, powerful current that threatens to pull you under. 

“Give it to me.” 

His voice is husky and strained, a quiet plea for you to let go and when you do with a silent cry, the deep dimpled smile on his face is a proud one, equal parts awe and lust. 

He follows shortly after, the tight, wet clutch of your cunt too much for him – but it’s your relieved face that makes him spend every ounce inside you with slow, smooth strokes until there is nothing left. You look so light underneath him, so content and drowsy and drunk with relief. 

He can’t help himself when he bends to kiss the tear track that runs over your temple, giving you another kiss on the apple of your cheek. 

“So good. You were so good.”

You’re so spent you can’t even kiss him back, rather letting him gently nudge you to meet his mouth and even then you let him take what he needs from your kiss swollen lips, opening up for him when his mouth demands it. 

Eventually he shifts, just enough to settle beside you rather than on top, but you automatically follow the heat of his body, curling into his chest. 

“There’s, uh —” he starts, closing his eyes. You watch the thud of his pulse under the tanned skin of his neck. He licks his plush lips, trying to catch his breath. “There’s milk and cereal — or eggs, if you want those in the morning. I didn’t know what you guys would want, so I —“

Your quiet laugh stops him and he looks down at you, smiling when he sees your expression. 

“Are you really telling me about my breakfast options, like some kinda guest?”

“Yea, I guess I am,” he grins. “But you are a special guest in this house,” he replies, tugging you closer. His mouth finds the curve of your collarbone, his smile felt against the skin there. “Especially for me.”

“Guests really get the full treatment here, huh,” you tease. “Dinner, laundry, breakfast, their ass eate—“

You can almost feel his blush in the dark, his fingers immediately digging into your side to stop your sentence, and your stifled giggles fill the dark room but he doesn’t let up until you’re squirming underneath him, breathlessly begging him to stop. 

“What?” you laugh, trying to keep quiet. “I liked that part of the turn down service.”

He grins, the knowing smile of a pleased man who is well aware he did good. He leans in, putting his mouth by your ear. 

“Good to know. Maybe tomorrow the service will include it again.” He pulls back and winks, leaning back in to give you a quick, full kiss. 

“I wish I could stay, but I better get back to my room.”

“I know.”

“See you in the morning?” he asks, so soft and mussed and hopeful yet grown; his voice low and husky. His eyes are soft with affection, his unwavering gaze showing that he genuinely wants to make sure you’re okay before he leaves. 

His hand cradles the curve of your cheek, his thumb swiping along the line of your cheekbone and you tilt to press a kiss against the heel of it. Relief like you haven’t ever known floods through you, but more than that is what you feel underneath that earnest gaze. 

Safe, secure. In both yourself, and what you mean to him. 

“Yea. See you in the morning.”

He smiles, bending to place a delicate, warm kiss on your forehead. “Goodnight, baby.”

You sigh with contentment. 

“Goodnight, daddy.”

[duckiemimi]

i’ve seen some people say that if gojo didn’t meet geto, he would’ve turned out like naoya. and as open as i am to different interpretations, this is just…plain wrong.

naoya always felt like he had something to prove, despite the overconfidence he typically exhibited. he was born as a prospective successor to the zenin clan (the “true heir,” according to him), but toji was obviously more powerful than he was despite having no CE, and even in the rival clan, gojo was regarded as the child who tipped the balance of the world. naoya had this huge inferiority complex and that lended to his misogynistic tendencies, resulting in him trying to exert his dominance to show that he can live up to his aspirations and be on par with toji and gojo. also, gege made it a point to show how power-hungry the zenin clan was—always keep in mind that naoya grew up in a culture that valued superiority over everything.

gojo, on the other hand, simply is. he’s everything naoya is not—undeniably powerful and full of infinite potential. unlike how the zenin clan was portrayed, we don’t know much about the gojo clan and i think that was done with purpose. the zenin clan had to be introduced because we needed exposition for maki, mai, naoya, and toji (and megumi); we needed to understand how and why they turned out the way they did. gojo is the only gojo clan member we know, implying that we as readers have nothing substantial to learn from the introduction of the gojo clan (at least nothing substantial relating to the plot of the story just yet, nor would it add anything substantial to gojo’s characterization—he can stand as his own character without family background exposition).

naoya and gojo have always been different from the start. naoya looks down on people because of his insecurities disguised as arrogance, while gojo understands he’s treated the way he is because he was born the pinnacle of jujutsu. if gojo “looks down” on people, it’s not out of entitlement, but simply because he is that powerful.

(if anything, for him to put aside his sheer power to yearn for human connection, to want to close the gap between him and his allies—it’s all a testament to how painfully human he is.)

i’m not sure why people think gojo meeting geto prevented him from becoming misogynistic (actually, i do know why they think this way), but i think it’s unfair to dismiss the fact that geto was just as much of a little shit as gojo was. are we forgetting how they were both introduced in the hidden inventory arc? they both dunked on utahime! yea, sure they did it in different ways (gojo being straightforward and snotty, and geto going the roundabout backhanded route), but they were both just as bad as the other, both incredibly insufferable.

i wouldn’t say that it came from a place of insecurity (like naoya); it’s more like they both genuinely thought they were better than other people in general, regardless of circumstance. and they weren’t wrong about that—remember, they were two 16 year old teenage boys who were already classified as special grade sorcerers. of course, they’d be insufferable and annoying! they could’ve literally taken on the whole world together!

yes, geto was a monumental figure in gojo’s life—the memories linger and everything he does afterwards is tinged in geto’s absence, but that doesn’t mean his connection to geto is the only thing that characterizes him. he’s his own person now and he can live without him, despite their history. yes, he carries that grief for life, but since when did grief define you as a person?