#idk i just think that if the timing was different he and i could have so much fun dating like genuinely i think it’d be a really good time

[sturniololuvz]

can you do something where maybe chris’s daughter asks nick to help her get birth control, and she tries to hide it from chris, but he’s actually understanding about it? idk i hope that made sense lmao it’s been a long day

“Grown Conversations”

Y/N stood in the hallway outside Nick’s room, shifting her weight between her feet. She’d been pacing for ten minutes, mentally rehearsing the conversation, psyching herself out. Her hands were clammy. Her stomach? A full circus.

She finally knocked.

Nick opened the door, eyebrows raising when he saw her face. “Everything okay?”

“I need to talk to you,” she blurted. “Privately.”

Nick stepped aside. “Always.”

She sat on the edge of his bed, chewing her nail, unsure where to start.

Nick sat across from her, careful not to rush. “Take your time.”

She inhaled shakily. “I was wondering if you could maybe… help me get on birth control?”

Nick blinked.

“I’m not—like—I’m not being reckless or anything,” she said quickly. “I just… I’ve been thinking about it. And I didn’t know who else to go to.”

“Not your dad?”

She bit her lip. “I’m not ready for that. He’ll freak. Or… I don’t know. I just didn’t want him to see me differently.”

Nick stayed quiet for a second, reading her face like he always did. “Okay. First of all — thank you for trusting me. That means a lot. Second — this is totally normal, Y/N. You’re growing up, and being responsible about your body is a good thing.”

She let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

“I can help you figure it out,” Nick added. “Go with you. Be there. But I also think… at some point, your dad should know. Not because you’re doing anything wrong — but because I think he’d want to be there for you.”

Y/N stared at the floor. “What if he’s disappointed?”

Nick leaned forward. “You’re his daughter. He might be surprised. He might need a minute. But he loves you. He’ll get it.”

⸻

She didn’t tell Chris.

Nick did.

Not in a tattletale way — more like a gentle heads-up, over a quiet cup of coffee the next morning.

Chris’s reaction wasn’t what Y/N expected.

He didn’t yell. He didn’t panic. He just sat back in his chair, ran a hand over his face, and said, “Wow.”

Nick waited.

Chris eventually nodded. “She’s growing up.”

“She’s smart about it,” Nick offered. “She’s not doing anything reckless.”

“I know,” Chris muttered. “I just… I remember when she was five and refused to wear pants because they were ‘too bossy.’ And now she’s talking about birth control.”

“She still refuses to wear jeans,” Nick added dryly.

Chris huffed a laugh. “True.”

Later that day, Chris found her in the kitchen. She tensed when he walked in.

“I know,” he said gently. “Nick told me.”

Y/N’s face dropped. “Dad—”

“I’m not mad,” he said quickly, stepping closer. “You’re being safe. That’s all I care about. And… I get why you went to Nick first. It’s easier, sometimes, to talk to someone who’s not your dad.”

She blinked, stunned.

Chris opened his arms. “C’mere.”

She fell into the hug.

“You can always come to me, though,” he said into her hair. “Even for the big, uncomfortable stuff. I’d rather know than have you feel alone.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Don’t be. Just… keep trusting the people who love you. We’ve got your back, always.”

⸻

That night, she left a sticky note on his bedroom door.

thank you for not freaking out. you’re a pretty cool dad.

Chris stuck it in his wallet.

He kept it there for years.

⸻

[the-apple-of-my-eye0-0]

Do you wanna fuck?

Caleb x chubby! Reader

Content warnings: Praise, breeding kink, needy Caleb, reader is afab, unprotected sex, uses of: mama, baby, pretty girl, fluffy smut, a little angst.

This has been in my drafts for a hot minute, so I thought I'd finally post it. Reader is chubby and insecure. Idk this just came to me and I thought I’d write about it.

🔞 !!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !!! 🔞

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Caleb and you have been dating for a while. Everything is going great, except you’ve been too insecure to show him your body, thinking he’d see you differently once the layers of deceit are discarded.

You’d always thought he was too good for you, wayyyy out of your league. No one verbally fed into this delusion but you could just tell by the way girls fawned over him in public, giving you eyes full of disgust.

He’d been persistent on wanting to have sex with you, but always stayed within your boundaries whenever you tell him no. As his girlfriend you’ve felt guilty for not giving him what the both of you wanted so bad.

So tonight you finally give in, too horny to overthink or back out.

After another steamy make out session, you told him the words he oh so wanted to hear “I’m ready baby, let’s have sex”.

His face was pure shock, taking a moment to register what you said. “Are you sure pip? I need to be sure you really want to.” He asked, hands resting on your waist.

“Yes I’m sure, please fuck me caleb” you pleaded. And with that a switch flipped inside him.

A smirk rose on his face, eyes going dark as he climbed over you, pining you onto the bed. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that” he kisses you, feverishly, not able to get enough.

Slowly, he starts to remove your clothes, starting with your shirt, admiring every inch of your skin. Then sliding off your shorts, until you were almost bare beneath him.

“God, can’t believe you’ve kept this precious sight from me for so long” his voice almost sounding like a whine?

‘What?’ You thought to yourself, blindsided at the fact he loved your body, just as much as you hated it, if not more.

“Let me see what else you’ve been hiding from me”, a smirk forms on his face as he kisses up your arm while removing your bra.

Once the garment is removed, he loses all sense of control, sucking on your nipple while the other is in between his unforgiving fingers.

“Caleb~” you moan, the new sensation sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body.

“Keep saying my name like that baby, love hearing your moans” he says as he moves to your other nipple, continuing to give you pleasure.

You could feel his feel his hard cock through his pants on your thigh, slowly grinding in need of some friction.

“Wanted this for so long.” He kisses every inch of your skin, leaving trails of light bruises in his wake.

“Hearing your pretty moans through the walls, thinking I’m asleep — drove me crazy, looked forward to them every night” his confession sending shivers down your spine.

You gasp at the thought of him listening, cheeks turning red with embarrassment. “I-I’m sorry baby, I was just scared…” you explain.

“Don’t be,” kiss, “not here,” kiss, “not with me,” kiss, “gonna make you feel so good,” kiss, “gonna make you mine forever”. He kisses down to the hem of your panties, looking into your eyes for permission.

You bite your lip in anticipation and nod eagerly, “Please Caleb, I need you”, you beg.

He doesn’t waste any time, removing the cloth before burying his head between your thighs.

“Fuuuuuck~” you moan, the feeling of his tongue against your needy clit makes your eyes roll back, your hands gripping onto his hair, slightly tugging at the strands.

“Mhm—that’s it, let everyone know how good I’m making you feel” he purrs against your clit. The vibration going right through you.

“Ah, Caleb!— feels so good, need you inside me” you plead, looking at the lewd sight beneath you.

“Yeah? You ready for this cock, baby? Fuck can’t wait to be inside you” he raises his head, watching you through lust hazed eyes.

"Mhm, can't wait any longer." You whine, forgetting all your worries.

You watch as he removes his shirt, showing off his toned muscles. A familiar feeling rises in your stomach, a mix of butterflies and nerves.

He reaches for his side drawer, grabbing a condom, that was until your hand wrapped around his wrist, "wanna feel all of you" you tell him.

He stares at you with wide eyes for a moment before a smirk grows on his face. "You sure? Can't promise I'll be able to resist coming in this sweet pussy?" He warns.

You didn't care, how could you when you've been waiting for this exact moment since you met him.

"I don't care, just want you inside me, want to feel you cum inside me" you reassure him.

You don't have to tell again, he's imagined having a family with you for so long, having a mini you running around.

He unzips his pants, removing the remainder of his clothes, allowing his hard, throbbing cock to spring free. "Yeah, wan' me to make you a mama? Wanna carry my baby inside you?" He coos.

"Mhmm- Ah" you gasp as he pushes his cock inside you. "aw baby, feel so good wrapped around me" he takes a moment before thrusting inside you.

You melt into the pleasure of his curved tip hitting against your sweet spot over and over, you repeatedly moan his name as if it was a sacred prayer.

"You like that, hm?" he groans, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "I'll give this to you whenever you want baby"

You take his head in your hands and pull him in for a deep kiss, no ferocity, no haste, just pure love.

You feel him throb inside you, until he starts to thrust deeper and harder, making you pull away from the kiss, gasping at the pleasure.

He continues fuck you at a mid breaking pace. Causing your body to jolt with each thrust.

You have enough brainpower to realise what's happening and you grab the blanket to try and cover yourself.

Caleb didn't like that one bit, pinning your arm to the bed and tossing the blanket to the side.

“Don’t cover your stomach pretty girl, wanna see as I fuck a baby into it” he kisses your stomach, shattering all your insecurities instantly.

You let go, allowing the lust to finally overtake you. Your eyes rolling back, mouth open slightly.

"That's it baby, forget about everything else, just focus on the feeling of my cock filling you up." he moans breathlessly.

You feel your climax rising. "Gonna cum" you babble out mindlessly.

"Yeah? Cum for me baby, cum 'round my cock" he pleads.

With that you squirt around his cock, moaning loud enough for your neighbours to hear.

A guttural moan escapes his lips, feeling your walls clamp around him.

"'m gonna cum baby, gonna make you a mama, wanna see you hold my baby, can you give me that?" he whines.

You're too cock drunk to reply, just nodding your head pathetically.

He cums inside you, groaning at the pleasure, giving you a few more thrusts before collapsing beside you, panting heavily.

"Fuck, you're so hot baby, love you so much". he whispers breathlessly into your ear.

[antlerqueensab]

nsfw travis headcanons?

oughhh i was planning on doing one of these

so first off, i think it takes a while for him to hype himself up for anything other than kissing. like, the first time he groped you, he immediately pulled back and apologized. which, obviously, you encouraged him to do whatever he felt like was right, so he tried it again after a few seconds, and he could not stop doing it for weeks after that

definitely looks to you for reassurance and - though he'd never admit this - he listens to whatever you say and just needs you to guide him through whatever you're doing. so, he'll try and act all confident and sure of what he's doing, but the second you say to do it a different way, he's mumbling an apology and fixing it immediately

pre-crash, travis is definitely all for praise and encouragement. since he's sort of still in that loser/insecure about his experience phase, when you tell him he's doing the right thing and making you feel good, he's instantly red in the face and nodding along to your words. (also, definitely cried after the first time you two had sex)

i also think he'd be really into giving/getting hickeys. he thinks it's an easier way of showing affection than telling you outright - he also doesn't want to fuck up what you have by sounding too possessive. so, he chooses to focus on how you started giving him hickeys and copied what you did. and once he learned the right way to do it, he cannot fucking stop. travis genuinely can't help himself and will leave them anywhere and everywhere.

in the wilderness, he starts learning more of what he likes and gets more confident and secure with your relationship. he'll start convincing you to go on hikes with him just so he can fuck you against a random tree. there'd been a few times he woke you up and you both snuck out of the cabin to go down to the lake just to get a quiet moment away from everyone.

around a year into the wilderness, he's confident and knows exactly what you like. he makes it a point to tease you so much, grabbing onto your hips when you both are with the other girls, walking past you and purposefully touching some part of you, making sure to fix things where you can see him (he's not fucking blind, he can tell how much you love his arms and how strong he'd gotten), whispering things to you. then, when you get alone, he's teasing you even more while laying you down on the makeshift bed, making sure you keep quiet for him so the other girls don't hear.

he prefers giving instead of receiving when it comes to head. really, it started out with him trying to rush through his turn when it happened because it seemed too complicated and hard to figure out the right way to do it. but once he did it a few more times and kept his eyes on you the entire time, he got perfect somehow.

now, he'll get you alone, make sure you're steady before tugging down whatever pants you're wearing and pushing his head as far between your thighs as he can. he's messy with it too, kissing and licking so sloppy and just doing everything he knows will get you to finish. when he doesn't use his fingers, which he doesn't like to unless you ask, his hands are either holding your legs apart or keeping your hips pinned down while he makes sure his nose bumps against your clit. occasionally, he'd throw an arm over your lower stomach to keep you down while his hand either held yours or pawed at your chest.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 lowk might make another one thats more brief and scattered but idk 😭

[thecoochiefairy]

grillz. onyankopon.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 8.0K word count. wifeblackfem!reader, husband! onyankapon, football! onyankopon, grumpy!onyankapon, sweet!onyankapon, dominant!onyankapon, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, creaming, squirting, pussy eating, choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk/aggressive dirty talk, condomless sex, creaming, slapping ass/face, kissing, just a fine ass black man, minors aren’t welcome!

𝓐ᥫ᭡

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ y’all already know what it is, it’s yo’ favorite couple. i just hope you like this one. ony is very grillz by nelly + paul wall coded, idk. anyways. lemme hush. for reference, my girl’s hair is in that curly/braids jayda-wayda hairstyle if it seemed confusing ! aight, love y’all. bye. teehee.

visual. visual. visual. visual.

𝓐ᥫ᭡:: your husband is invited to a basketball game.

YOU MIGHT’VE BEEN MORE NEUROTIC THAN YOUR MOTHER IN LAW. You came to that conclusion as you sprinted through the house, the scent of vanilla and jasmine wafting through the air each time you found something else to fixate on. 

You were supposed to be ready an hour ago. Your husband had been invited to a Lakers VS Pelicans game—and if being honest, this might’ve been your first outing since you had your third baby. 

Saint, you’d named him. A little too on the nose, but Onyankopon wanted to keep the tradition of your children’s names going. This pregnancy had been entirely different than Salem or Sage—pains, sickness, barely able to walk, accidents on yourself—you 

endured all the worst parts within your trimesters, but you were so blessed to have a healthy five month old boy. 

Now having three children, life was a lot different than you prepared for it to be. You were a full time stay at home wife. But it came with a price—being without Onyankopon for weeks at a time as he traveled, the overwhelming amount of time that you spent taking care of your children alone—not to mention the lack of dates, and sex. Hard to believe that you hadn’t hunched on your husband in six months. But having children all close in age required an extensive amount of attention, and although you’d die for them, a small part of you just missed being alone with your husband. And now, you had the opportunity—you were just a little too anxious. 

“Papa? Do you wanna pack your football?” 

Your eldest was now three, Salem being the sweetest baby boy you could ask for—he was always helpful with his one year old sister, being the big brother he was always excited to be. You were currently trying to pack up all three of your children for their grandma's house, while you were supposed to be getting ready. Onyankopon was too busy with a conference call to notice your hysteria.

“Yes, mommy. Can I pack my Legos?” 

“Of course, Papa—“ your eyes flick around the bed, noticing that something was missing. You scratch at the bonnet atop of your head, a sigh passing your lips as you question, “You wanna be a big boy and go find Sage’s binky for me? Did she drop it in the toy box?” 

He’s already running out. You turned around to look at the packed suitcases, eyes narrowing as you tried to think if you were missing anything. 

“Say-Say?—did we pack your baby brother’s socks and diaper bag? I know I put down Sage’s—“

Speaking of Sage, your one year old sits on the bed, previously focused on a fruit pouch that’s now drained—Her miniature fingers wave up for your attention. 

“Mommmma—Abu.”

You exhale, “You want your apple slices, pretty girl?” 

She nods, hands clapping together, 

“Yes, yes.” 

She looks around the room, seemingly waiting for the magical fruit that she wants to appear out of thin air—and at this point, you might’ve needed to be a magician.

“Okay,” you huff softly, “Just—okay.”

You place her on your hip as you throw on your house slippers, quickly padding your feet down the sleek stairs of your condo. The open kitchen nearly takes up the downstairs area, your hand reaching for the miniature fridge where you keep Sage’s snacks refrigerated. 

That’s when you stop. Your eyes flick over to your husband as he stands on the porch—you’re able to hear the baritone of his voice as he has the door cracked, pouring food into the bowls of your two Dobermans. You weren’t trying to run into him before you weren’t ready, but it was unfortunate that you lived together—and that Sage wanted those damn Apple slices.

You sat her on the counter as you pulled open the container of freshly cut fruit, putting one in her hand as your voice softly replied, “You’re welcome,” to her babble of “Thanyou.” 

Seeing Onyankopon reminded you of all the reasons you’d married him. The sable shirt he wears hugs the sculpt of his muscular frame, covered by an oversized varsity jacket that fits his broad shoulders perfectly. His cargo pants and forest green Nike dunks pull the entire outfit together, chain heavy on his neck as it shows his jersey number on the pendant. You’d redone his cornrows for tonight, neatly braided as he cleaned up his hairline, crawling all the way down to his facial hair around his lips and jawline. But the current star of the show was the glitter in his mouth, nearly ten bands of fully diamond encrusted grills he’d bought for the both of you—you just hadn’t worn yours yet. He was erotically intimidating at times, your eyes falling to the band on his ring finger. He was yours. 

“Baby,” his deep voice catches your attention, now realizing he was walking back into the house, “I know a nigga ain’t losin’ his mind—why you ain’t dressed?” 

The moment you go to answer, Salem comes flying downstairs. 

“Mommy! I can’t find Sage’s binky!”

Your eyes flicker back to your husband, pulling Sage onto your hip as you confirm, “That’s why.” 

“Why you ain’t come tell me, huh? I would’ve helped you. I was just talkin’ to coach about our last game.”

He looks good up close—smells good too, the scent of his cologne pulls you closer as you breathe in the aroma. 

You shake your head, “You know how I get before they go off to your mom’s house. I wanna make sure Salem has all of his favorite toys, Sage has her snacks and—“

You stop yourself, “Do you remember if I pumped milk for Saint? I fed him before I put him down for a nap, I just—“

And in that exact moment, the baby monitor goes off. Saint weeps through the microphone, wanting the attention of his momma. 

You dig your nails into the top of your bonnet, scratching away your anxieties as you sigh, “Maybe you should just go, Ony. The Pelicans gave you front row seats, I don’t want you to miss that.” 

You weren’t the only one stressed. Onyankopon had been having a hard time balancing football and family life, but he’d been there every second since the season was close to being over. He knew you needed time with him—you’d been cooped up for months.

He raises an eyebrow, “And leave you here? I thought you was tryna’ have a night out with yo’ nigga— I’m tryna’ show you off to the whole world tonight, I ain’t goin’ nowhere until you ready—C’mon, Imma’ help you find lil’ mama’s binky.” 

“Ony—“

“Mama, c’mon now. I wanna make this easier on the both of us.”

He takes Sage into his arms, the one year old babbling giggles as he blows his lips onto her cheek, “You act like you the only girl inna’ house that need attention, huh? Let yo’ momma breathe.” 

You sigh, “I’m not even close to being ready, baby. Don’t we still gotta’ drop them off to your mom’s—“

“My momma gon’ come finish packing them up. You tryna’ find another reason to skip out on this date?”

Okay, maybe you felt a little bad. He was already dressed, up and ready to get out the house without the tribulation of three little ones. This would be an adult night. 

You lean your head into his shoulder as you murmur, “I’m actin’ like my damn momma.” 

A soft chuckle passes Onyankopon’s lips, a hand reaching down to cradle the back of your neck, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. 

 “Sum’ like that.”

“Don’t be funny, nigga. I ain’t asking for commentary.”

“Aight, Aight. Forreal’—Imma’ make sure they all packed up and go change Saint. I know he givin’ that diaper the business while he sleep.”

He nudges you softly—your arms crossed, eyes looking down to the floor. He knew that you were overwhelmed, and a date didn’t even seem practical at this point. A hand rubs your chin as he tilts your face towards him, a finger curling under your jaw, “You gon’ give up on me now?”

You hated how sweet he could be at times. You pout a bit, “I’m sorry. I’m going, okay? You love me?” 

Onyankopon’s hand cups your cheek, pulling you into a kiss, his lips a bit harsh as he whispers against them. 

“You just askin’ to hear me say it. You already know what it is.”

A smile finds a way to your lips, hands wrapping around his neck while standing on your tippy toes, pressing pecks into his jawline, ”I love you too.”

“Hurry up. Gon’ make that ass clean so I can put my tongue in it—“

“Onyankopon!”

“See? You already gettin’ me started. Should’ve been ready, I wouldn’t have said allat’.”

Here was something else new that came with your third child. Your body. You’d always been curvier in your hips and thighs, but after Saint, that seemed to tenfold. 

The black mini skirt you wore was now was smaller than mini, the poke of your ass nearly peeking from the bottom of your girlishly pink thong. Your matching black baby tee clung around the full weight of your breast, going from a C to a Double D in the span of six months. 

You’d braided the front of your hair and perfected the swoop of your edges, the rest of your tresses bouncing in wand curls above your shoulders. Your lashes darkened your slender eyes, honey freckles bouncing off the complexion of your caramel skin, heart shaped lips coated in brown liner. You weren’t used to heavy jewelry, as Onyankopon had bought you a real anklet—it was weighted, cold around your skin, matching the silver sparkles in the pink platform sandals you wore. 

Your lips parted a sigh as you turned to the side—you weren’t insecure, but seeing the full figure that motherhood had given you in tight material was a bit nerve wracking, especially after months of only oversized clothing. 

 “I don’t look—different, do I?” 

Onyankopon’s eyes narrow at you, chin hovering over your body as he wraps his arm around your neck, gently putting you within a headlock. You smelled good, a bit sweeter. 

”Different,” he repeats, licking his lips, “You look like a muhfuckin’ meal, baby. A nigga might have to keep you inside.” 

You hum a soft laugh, trailing your French tips against the arm that wraps around your neck, “I told you about puttin’ me in these headlocks like I’m one of your teammates,” you roll your eyes. 

He presses a kiss to your cheek, watching you through the mirror, “What’chu’ mean? Thought you liked this shit, it be makin’ you blush like a lil’ school girl.”

He lets go of the pressure, but not the arm around you, “You look gorgeous, Mama. You gon’ stop all that overthinkin’ now?”

“Maybe.” 

You pull his arm down as you turn, running your fingers over the shown tattoos on his neck and face. You hum, “You look good,” sticking your tongue out as you await for his mouth to follow. His grills shine within your vision.

He grunts into a chuckle, leaning down to press his lips against yours. His tongue is cold from the ice he chews, lips always softer than they appeared. His mouth pops from yours as mutters, “You tryna’ distract me.”

You give him a smile, showing off the pure shine of the matching ones he’d bought you. The heart shape of your lips made them look perfect, sultry even. 

“You like em’?”

“You know I like em’,” he rasps. 

His hands are harsh, grabbing onto the sides of your small face as he pulls you back in for another kiss. His lips suck on the plush of yours, “Matchin’ a nigga fly.” 

“You better like them for ten bands, nigga. You be gettin’ real besides yourself cause you got money.” 

“You talkin’, but that money takes care of this family, and be buyin’ yo’ ass allem’ bags, perfumes, and shoes. Daddy be takin’ care of you, huh?” 

His eyes narrow into a snarl, smacking one hand against the plump of your ass, watching it bounce through the skirt it’s hidden behind, making you giggle as he grunts, “I don’t?” 

“You do,” you kiss at his jaw, “Did Saint wake up when you changed him?”

“Nah, I just put him in my momma car. Sage was good too, you know crybaby quick to start screamin’ if she don’t get that binky—and Salem, he just excited to go to grandmas. You know we’ a team, right? I always got you, girl.” 

You sigh, “I know. You um—got his diaper bag?”

“Nah.” 

He smacks your ass again, “Goddamn, girl—Ion’ even know what you just asked me.“ 

You giggle, “The diaper bag, dork.” 

“Can’t hear you. Yo’ ass covering all the sound in the room.” 

“Onyankopon.” 

“Aight, lawd. You ain’t no fun.” 

In this moment, you almost felt similar to a baby—like you’d just gotten thrown into the world without any preparation. You forgot how much you hated the spotlight that was required being married to your husband—this was a Pelicans basketball game, and he somehow got more attention just being there as the New Orleans Saints’ quarterback. Your nerves got the best of you as you pulled up to the front of the stadium, seeing the valet workers prepare to open your passenger door. It was—chaos.

“You’ straight?” 

You give him a nod, knowing you weren’t entirely.

The paparazzi was always a nuisance, and even more so with the news of your newly born baby—Onyankopon could tell that he was being watched as you step out of the car, the flash of  light going off as his hand holds on to your hand firmly, pressing your body into his, as if he was shielding you. You lower your head as you hear him politely answering questions, cameras flashing in every direction—you hated this part every time.

“I’m excited to be able to come to a Pelicans game close to our off season, they been on a roll lately—and Zion, that nigga crazy onna’ court. We gon’ make it a close game tonight—hopefully.” 

The questions were quick to come up, “You have any bets on who’s winning tonight?” 

“Bets? Nah, ion’ do that shit,” he turns to you, “My wife my lil’ good luck charm—she gon’ be the reason they win tonight.”

You lean your head into his shoulder, a shy smile finding its way to your lips as you squeeze his hand a little tighter. He pulls you into a small kiss, the cameras flashing from the showmance between the two of you. 

It was quieter on the inside, the amount of people, security, and other familiar faces crowding the arena as you’re guided to the front row of the court. It was a couple minutes before the game started, and you already knew the drill—you crossed your leg over the other as you fixed your hair, re-touched your lip liner, sprayed yourself of perfume—all the awkward ways you could distract yourself as Onyankopon socialized with others sitting in the row next to you. Unlike you, he was extremely friendly. You would give a soft smile each time he introduced you to someone, but that was about it. You were more comfortable talking to your three year old than most adults.

He’d kissed your cheek multiple times, trying to coax you out of your shell as your eyes stayed transfixed onto the players practicing on the court. He could sense that you were trying your hardest to fit in, but he didn’t want that. He just wanted you to be yourself. 

“You want anything to drink, baby?” He leans down, lips close to your ear as he holds your thigh, “They got food too—it’s gon’ take a minute to get to you, might as well see what you want now.”

You shake your head, eyes flickering up to him, “I’m okay.”

“Don’t be lyin’. I know them’ lil’ apple slices you be stealin’ off our daughter ain’t that good—“

Onyankopon cuts himself off when he sees you smile. He’d always been good at making you laugh, and it wasn’t any different now. 

Your voice is soft as you ask, “They got Sangria? And loaded fries?”

“Oh aight, you tryna’ turn up tonight? You’ scandalous,” which makes you giggle as he continues, “Heard you. I’ll be back.” 

The moment he began walking away, the stadium camera seemed to find him— your husband appeared directly onto the Jumbotron—it showed a quick reel of him on the field, the crowd creating an echo as they cheered. His grills shine under the camera as he smiles, throwing up his fingers as he greets the cheers—It makes you blush. 

The game officially starts. Right on time, a hand rubs at the back of your neck, Onyankopon sitting next to you as he presses a cold drink into your hands, “You need me to turn on yo’ seat fan?”

You lean closer to him as you steal the fries out of his hands, “Nope. Just want you to enjoy the game, baby. I don’t wanna see you cry when the Lakers put belt to ass on the Pelicans,” you giggle.

“I ain’t even gon’ put that Lakers blasphemy into the universe. You actin’ bad.” 

“And you’ delusional.”

“Call it what you want!” 

The game is a brawl. Cheers take over the stadium as the Pelicans manage to get a few points over the Lakers, who are just barely in the lead. You hold back your laugh as you watch Onyankopon lean into the court, eyes narrowing as his voice carries, “What you doin’, nigga? You’ gon’ let him take the ball from you? Ref—you gon’ call that foul? Nigga tripped his feet clear as day!”

You sigh as you take a sip of the sweet alcohol flowing between your lips—this was your husband. 

It was now half time, and you couldn’t lie—you were feeling the effects of your Sangria. You might’ve become a little mouthy as you watched fouls or unfair calls of the ball, nearly as into it as your husband was. When they were back to showing familiar faces against the Jumbotron, your eyes flickered up as you heard the crowd go back to roaring, seeing yourself and Onyankopon in your seats as you watched the game. You gave a shy wave into the screen, giggling as your husband childishly pecked your cheek repeatedly along the Jumbotron. 

“You prettier on the big screen—shy ass,” he nudges your shoulder, “You still good?”

You nod, “I might order another Sangria—or a Margarita, or—one of those. What’s in Sangria, baby?” You tug at his letterman, humming through your question as you lean into his lap. 

A chuckle leaves his lips, “What I’m gon’ do with you, girl? You’ tipsy already.”

And although you were a little tipsy, this was the most laid back you’d ever been in a while. He missed your playful attitude, and even more so when you were comfortable. 

His hand rubs at your shoulder, pecking your cheek as he says, “Ion’ know. How bout’ we order both and mix ‘em into one cup?”

“You’re so smart,” you sigh, “My sexy, smart man.” 

Yup. That was it—you were now drunk.

Well, blame the Sangria-rita you’d just made. You were always able to hold yourself together in an environment where you couldn’t show just how intoxicated you were. But being around your husband without your kids, it might’ve had you a little more relaxed. And horny. When the game ended—and the Pelicans won, of course—instead of going home, Onyankopon had gotten a call from one of his teammates, mentioning that they would all be out at the club for another teammate's birthday, their wives joining in at the section as well. And of course, Onyankopon's friendly ass just couldn’t say no.

He could see the nerves in your face as you arrived at the club. Your eyes scan around, seeing familiar teammates with their wives and girlfriends. You’d never met half of these girls, and the ones you had met already seemed to be having fun together. 

Onyankopon leaned down, lips near your ear as he gently said, “We can go home, Mama. I can go pick up the kids on the way back—“

Were you giving off that you weren’t enjoying yourself? Hell. The Sangria might’ve worn off and made you a little sleepy, but you really weren’t ready to go home. You pull him down by his jaw as you interrupt,“I’m fine, baby. Promise—just need to hear a lil’ music. I want you to have fun.” 

His nose nuzzles against your hair, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as he pulls you into his side, “I’m always gon’ have fun if I’m with you, girl. Come on.”

A hand comes down to the lower part of your back, leading you right into a VIP section. Onyankopon was greeting his teammates, a soft wave pulling at your fingers as you greeted the wives and girlfriends. You could be friendly—they just weren’t your type of crowd. 

But of course, you loved your husband enough to try something once. You took a couple of shots with them, Hennessy their choice of drink. When you mentioned that you didn’t enjoy the taste of more common brown liquors, one of them gave you an eye roll, and that was your cue to head back over to your husband. Maybe it was the liquor in your system, but you might’ve been a little irritated from that interaction. 

You wrapped your arms around Onyankopon’s neck as you sat on his lap, trying to hide the annoyance in your face—Too bad you weren’t good with that.

“I see that face you makin’. What happened?” 

You try to shake it off, “I be tryna’ be cool with them hoes. They’ weird,” your murmur to him, going into your purse as you search for your phone.

“You gettin’ mad for no reason,” he holds your phone out for you, “They just be tryna’ fit in with the crowd.” 

“You don’t need to give me explanations for bitches you don’t even know,” you flick your eyes back up to him, “Ain’t nobody mad. If I was, I would’ve said that.”

He raises an eyebrow. Onyankopon leans down into your ear, a hand pulling you in by the cradle of your neck as he questions, “What ‘you gettin’ an attitude with me for?”

“What I look like startin’ an argument with you in front of everybody? I’m just sayin’, I don’t like them girls.” 

“You don’t like nobody. Yo’ ass mean.”  

You narrow your eyes at that. You then wrap your arms further around his neck as you smile, “I like you, Daddy.”

Your eyes. He could see it all in your eyes. 

He raises an eyebrow, pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling you into another one, a bit more harsh as you feel his hand caress across the bottom of your thigh, a thumb stroking against your skin. 

“Keep behavin’, girl. You gon’ let a nigga dance wit’ you, or you gon’ have an attitude about that too?”

“You gon’ throw some ones on me if I dance?” 

You move your hips along his lap, giggling through the shots you were beginning to feel in your system.

“I’m throwin’ hundreds out this bitch if it’s you.” 

Onyankopon’s hand smacks at the side of your thigh, “You talkin’ too much. C’mon.”

You stand in front of him, your eyes a bit blurry from the lowlights of the club, which somehow makes your tipsiness worse—This was a side of you that hadn’t shown in months, the arch of your silhouette drowning in his sight as you hold the edge of your skirt, ass shaking within his face. You dip your head down to watch him from behind, teeth sinking into the plush of your lip.

“That’s how you feelin’?”

Swat, his hand palms your ass hard. The sting rushes into a pleasure you hadn’t expected, making the skin flush.

The mixture of a giggle and whimper passes your lips, barely audible as you hear the music thumping around you. You’re really horny now.

Your brain is foggy—so foggy that you tug your panties to the side for a millisecond, letting him see the glisten of your pussy. You feel his palm latch along your throat from behind, tugging you back onto his lap. 

He grunts, “You tryna’ have me kill a nigga in here.”

“I think that Hennessy’ talking,” you giggle to him.

His hand smacks your ass harder, the sound piercing the atmosphere. The music wasn’t going hard enough to mask it. 

“Yo’ ass gon’ be the reason we leave. Keep fuckin’ playin’.”

“Okay—down, boy. You got a teammate to celebrate his birthday with. Go, imma’ babysit another drink.”

“You gon’ behave?”  he tilts your chin up, finding your eyes in his.

“I always do. Kiss?”

Onyankopon’s lips are on yours in seconds. He knocks your head up as he taps your chin, grills shining a blue tint under the lights of the club before he leaves you alone. 

The thing is, you didn’t exactly do what you’d told him you would.

You’d ordered a lemon drop martini, doing the opposite of babysitting your drink as you consumed it in minutes. A small smile spread across your lips as your mother-in-law sent pictures of your babies enjoying their time at grandmas, and although you missed your kids—the sight of your husband across the club had your attention. 

You could admit it now—you were fully drunk. The club was closing, and you were entirely too far away from home for Onyankopon to drive back. So you’d both decided on a hotel for the night—and with your intoxicated minds, you might’ve chosen the nicest one in New Orleans, booking the rooftop of the tallest building. 

You giggle as he carries you bridal style, using his foot to open the door to the room—and it’s a sight to see.

The floor is marbled, an expensive crystal chandelier casting warm shades of orange and gold across the room. The walls were high, mirrors reflecting the lights from the chandelier. The bed is huge, with a golden, lacy canopy.

You gasp, “Baby—there’s a pool!” 

An infinity pool to be specific—it was beautiful, lit up against the night skyline, the sounds of jazz music faint in the background from the echoes of downtown. 

“Baby. Be care—“  

You almost fall, saved by Onyankopon as he lifts you up by the back of your thighs, holding you in front of him as your legs wrapped around his waist, throat giggling as you hold onto him, “Oops.”

“You drunk as hell, Mama.” 

He tosses you onto the bed before you can answer—And you squeal, drunk laughter passing your lips as you bounce up once, eyes still on the man in front of you—and God, he was your everything. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol you’d been drinking all night, but you missed him—and now, you wanted him all over you.

You watch him undress himself—that jacket hits the floor, tattoos on his arms and biceps beginning to outline underneath the lights.

You groan, “I’m hot, baby. I wanna go swimming.” 

“Ion’ know,” he’s slow with his words, easing out of his pants, “I could just rub up on you, baby. Let you fall asleep in my arms.”

“That’s boring,” your eyes wander his body as you bite your bottom lip. Your legs spread a bit on the bed, “Can I go look at it?”

You were a drunken mess, your words slurred, your sentences a bit incoherent as he shakes his head, chuckling at the sight. 

“You can’t even think straight, girl. Just lay yo’ ass down.”

You roll your eyes, huffing, “Whatever. I gotta go pee.” 

You didn’t give him time to answer. 

Your body was stumbling off of the bed—but instead of the bathroom, you made your way directly towards the pool. You’re tugging off the material of your clothes, stepping out of the skirt you wear, pulling the baby tee over your head effortlessly—you’re bare up top, nipples shining a pretty brown under the lights, your thong molding along your hips at the bottom.

“You’ hard headed.”

His voice is a chuckle, but his eyes glare at you. He watches your body dive into the pool. 

“I thought you was usin’ the bathroom,” His voice is low, eyes at your figure that flows beneath the water as his feet begin to follow you outside. 

And then you come up—Your eyes are the only thing above water, slender as you swim to the edge. 

“It feels good, baby. You wanna feel?” 

You come up more the moment your fingers fall around the flesh of your breasts, squeezing at your hardened  nipples as you whimper, “C’mon, Ony…”

His voice gets lower, “Goddamn. Aight.”  

Your eyes flick down to his dick that slaps his abdomen the moment he pulls it from his boxers, a sultry smile on your face as you swim to the side of the pool where he’s fully undressed, his body towering above you as he steps in.

The minute he steps in, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down within the water as you lift yourself against him. Your eyes glow, your tongue dragging against his lips as you giggle, “I missed you, Daddy.”

Onyankopon chuckles, lips brushing against yours, “What you miss about me?”

“Being alone with you. Touchin’ on you—“

You’re softly whining, your tongue swirling along his throat, meeting him in a filthy kiss as you come up. And of course, he’s kissing you back even worse—tongue invading your lips, drowning you under his mouth. You allow your body to sway its way towards the edge of the water, turning as you lean yourself against the glass of it, back now facing him. Your little show from the club returns, and under perfect lighting? Your pussy was even prettier. It’s pink as you spread it in his face, glistening to coax him even further.

You whimper, “—The way you fuck me. Come take me, Ony.”

Onyankopon grunts at the sight.

Being drunk brought out a whole different side of you—but your husband was no better. It was the way he ate your pussy when intoxicated—his tongue wagged up against the soft flesh of your folds, the soppy arousal drenching his facial hair each time his full lips sucked your clit up into his mouth. He can’t help it—he’s dipping his tongue in between your opening and hole up top, your fingers tightening along his braids as you whimper in return. But you’re worse—you’re twisting your hips from side to side, riding his face to meet his tongue that sucks your clit from behind. Your ass is all in his face, but he loves it, spanking you with rumbles vibrating against your flesh. 

You always got what you were asking for, but you were needy regardless. You didn’t expect your back to arch any further than it was, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his fingers tightened within your curls, fucking you in a way you’d missed in months. Your ass bounces onto his creamy dick by the pull of his strength—your lips releasing giggles, squealing in between your moans as he takes you from behind. 

“This’ how you missed me, huh? Boucin’ back on my dick like a muhfuckin’ slut? Look at you.” 

You were so drowned in him, you were hardly paying attention to where you were. The marble was cold on the edge of the pool, and with the tiniest bit of sense you had, you whined, “It’ssogood, baby.” 

A low groan leaves his lips, the sound vibrating against your neck. 

“You loud. Finna’ wake up the whole neighborhood.” 

You’re too drunk to listen, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you place your arm behind your back, waiting for him to grab ahold of it. Your moans are long, whiney as you’re somehow still giggling, so elated from how good every stroke feels. His tip is becoming lost in your pussy, your intoxication making you wetter by the second. 

His hand wraps against your arm, your leg going further over the edge, your back in the perfect arch as you mewl. Your eyes roll as he snakes his other hand to the front of you, clutching your jaw to snap your face behind to look into his—That’s when you sling your hips back, fucking yourself on his dick, a hazy smile on your face, screwed with a mixture of pleasure. 

“Ony…” 

You’re squealing to him.

“You still miss a nigga, huh? My shit deep enough for you to remember?”

Onyankopon’s hand tightens along your neck, his fingers gripping the bottom of your chin to bring your face closer to his. You squirm at the change in angle.

One of your hands slides against the side of his head, fingers running across the length of his cornrows. Your lashes are heavy, fluttering as you plead, “It’s deep,” your voice hardly audible over the sounds of your skip clapping together. 

“Feel so full when you’re in me,” you whimper along his mouth.

Your voice was music to his ears. 

The wet flesh sends echoes against the marble, your moans loud in his ear. But everything you were giving him was worth the wait of you being pregnant. He’d taken care of you, babied you. And now, he fucked you like you were his again. 

He could be sweet, sensual—but he could also be a demon. You’re out of the pool now, close to the bed—but you couldn’t make it there on time. Your fingers clutched

along his shoulder as he carries you with no effort, legs held by his arms as he’s lifting you up, tip slapping the sensitivity of your puffy folds, dropping you down in seconds. A squelch comes in return from the curve of his dick reaching inside. 

“Ion’ wanna hear nothin’,” he grunts to you, “Just listen to us.” 

You knock your forehead against his, eyes watering as you tremble whimpers, cradling the nape of his neck in your fingers. Your mind is hazy.

His gaze pierces yours, your lips barely hovering above his as he grunts, “You hear that? That’s the sound of you leakin’ all on my shit. Just droolin’.” 

Your face screws into a pout as you whimper, “Ohmygod, baby. You’re so strong. Oh my goddd. Ughn. F—fuck,” your nails sink into his skin. 

“The fuck did I say, huh?”  

A swat comes to your face, and your eyes flutter, sinking your fingers between your lips as you hush the noises from your mouth. There’s tears in your eyes, thighs trembling as he continues to hold you in the air. Plop, plop, schluck. 

“That’s my good lil’ bitch. Open.” 

He spits in your mouth, gripping your neck tighter as he speaks.

“Tongue.” 

When you do, he spits again. 

“Goodbaby.”  

Your whimper is a high-pitched sound, your teeth nibbling against his bottom—but that’s when he releases you onto your feet—your legs instantly trembling, and he can tell you won’t be able to keep this up. 

“On that bed,” his voice is low. 

“Knees first.”

The moment you crawl onto the bed, you drop your face onto the sheets, back still arched, spreading your reddened pussy as you gently rotate your hips for him. 

“C’mon, Daddy.” 

The arrogance pours from his body as he slaps his tip against your folds, your hips jolting at the feeling. His dick is sliding in, sinking every gifted inch he has for you—It’s even deeper this time, a pinch coursing through your lower stomach the moment the back of your thighs clap with his abdomen, tearing away like Velcro each time. 

You’re mewling, “Damn, baby. I love you so much—why you fuckin’ me like this…”  

You’re babbling, asking nonsensical questions. You knew that.

He finds a grip in your curls, tugging you onto him. His eyes are low as he grunts, “I’m fuckin’ you like this ‘cause you want me to. Look at that pussy. Look at that shit. Pretty lil’ bitch I got.” 

Your eyes are watering heavily. You’re nearly silent for a while, just feeling everything he has to give you. Your body shakes, and you let out the deepest gasp, your exhale a low sob. 

“Keep goin’.” 

It came out a grunt, his voice cracking through the thickness of his Southern drawl. His words are nearly harsh—he craved you—but he meant it, “That’s so muhfuckin’ pretty, Mama. That cream you givin’ me. Yo’ cum is so pretty.” 

And he’s right—you’re cumming, the creamy release of your pussy painting his balls in your affection. Onyankopon’s fingers are tucked along the back of your neck, tattooed frame large above your smaller figure. 

You don’t mean for your mouth to unlatch a loud, “Ughn—Ooshit, baby…”

But it does. 

His body slaps against your round ass, “You been goin’ through it—You coulda’ just came and sat on this dick, Mama. Know you’ been thinkin’ about it. Know you been needin’ it.” 

Your fingers slip in between your lips, sucking lightly to muffle your sounds. You whimper, “Sorry, baby,” as you go back to dropping your hips down to meet his body. You imagine how that looks from behind—how your walls just suck him in, a whiney mess that you are, becoming needier by the second. 

“Uh-huh,” He groans, “Yeah—you been missing your nigga, huh?”

“Mhmm.”

That’s all you can manage to get out—your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, but you try your best to keep them open.

“Missed you so—muc—ugh—much, daddy.”

Seeing you this way was always rewarding. It was like all the senses in your brain went fuzzy, and you’re swirling your hips in a circle, throwing your ass back to meet his body. Fingers still tucked in between your mouth, you’re groaning. 

“See’—there you fuckin’ go. That’s my girl—“

His equal groan is deep and husky—loud, almost guttural.  It makes you shake, “You my good girl, ain’t you? You gon’ start acting right, huh?”

You had no thoughts within your mind.

“I’m your good girl,” you whimper, “See, baby—just wanted you,” your siren eyes peer behind your shoulder to watch your ass bounce. One of your arms reaches back—but Onyankopon’s already there again, snatching your wrist behind your back. 

“That’s all it was? You just wanted me?”

He leans his body down, pushing himself deeper into you. With your arms held, he’s got you locked—helpless.

Your face was red, eyes cloudy. You nod in answer, not trusting your own voice. 

Onyankopon’s hand releases the one held behind your back, his fingers wrapping around your throat from behind instead. His hips are going, heavy body throwing you onto his dick. 

His groan is a low hum, “Daddy’s here now, Mama. That’s all you needed.”

You can’t help the sound that comes from your lips—the whine that’s loud, a shaky breath being sucked into the air. His words, his affirmations to you—your eyes water again, and you give him a continuous nod as you watch your ass go up and down. Your feminine tone cries softly, body quivering as his words echo in your brain. 

He wants to mean every word he says. The way he grips your throat is a sign, the way he’s dropping you down, holding you in place.

Your sobs come out in low gasps,“Ohhh my god—“ 

You’re getting lightheaded.

“O—Oh—Oh, baby…” your brain’s getting foggy—no wonder you see dots.

You moan, “Oh, God. I love you so…much.”

“Yeah?” He grunts, “You mean that?” 

His body makes it hard for you to answer—and his words,  “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you, baby. You forgivin’ me, huh?” 

“Uh-huh,” You nod, “I forgive you. I’m so sorry,” you whine, “S’much, baby.”

You were being honest. Although, you weren’t sure what you were apologizing for. 

You can barely even see, mouth parting as you’re going to speak again, eyes rolling back. It’s silent. But that’s when your voice gets louder—even though it doesn’t seem possible, “Please forgive me, baby. Just needed you, Ony.” 

You give him a shaky nod, trying to focus on your breathing. He grips your throat harder, just the way you like, “I hear you, Mama. You hear me?” 

You gasp,  “Yes—Oohgod, baby.” 

“We ain’t finna’ have these problems no more?” 

“No—I love you—love you so much,” you sob again, body beginning to give. You’re shaking harder, you know you’re crying, but it only makes him go faster, a loud groan coming from his lips.

“That’s how you feelin’?”

“Uh-huhhhh,” you moan, lips quivering, “I forgive you—I always forgive you, Ony.”

Your nails dig at his skin, the sounds you’re making being loud enough to wake the dead. You moan, “I’d never—ooh—doubt you, I was jus—just—“ 

Your brain gives up—you can’t make sentences.

Maybe you shouldn’t have been so sorry. You now have to prove your own words, curls hanging above your face as you’re exhausted from now being on top—Onyankopon’s large hands unfortunately have you trapped, your whimpers seeping through the walls as he’s constantly bouncing you down against his lap. This is the sight you’d been looking for—that glare, that growl from his lips, your smaller frame being swallowed by his—even if you were above him. Your thighs burned, your hips ached. 

His hand lifts your body by your throat.

“You know how I feel?”

His hips thrust upward, “I gotta be here for you a lil’ more,” His deep groan makes your legs jolt, “That’s on me, aight? Imma’ make up fo’ that, I promise.” 

His tone goes dark. 

"I love you, Mama," He grunts, "And my kids—I haven’t been a good husband, have I?”

You shake your head, finding your own rhythm within your hips as you rotate above him, “It’s okay, baby—“ you breath hitches, “Such a good h—husband, Ony…” 

His hand around your neck loosens—his thumb rubs against the pulse beneath your jaw, “You promise?” 

His lips suck on your bottom lip, his hips moving against yours now—slowing.

You nod. Onyankopon’s other hand cups beneath your thigh, guiding your body—up and down, your head lolls to the side, curls draping along your hand as your eyes roll, “Baby, I c—can’t…” 

“Yeah?” He grunts, “You can’t—lemme’ hold you then. C’mere.” 

His kiss is soft—he’s tasting you, groaning through a snarl of his lip, “Uh—uh-huh—“ His hips aren’t slowing, “I feel you, mama.”

You’re crying softly as you hold onto him,

“O—Ony…”

“I’m a good husband, ain’t I? Talk to me.” 

He’s begging, his voice deep, “Please don’t be mad at me, baby. I’m already mad at myself because I’m not there for you no’ more.”

This bastard was evil. 

The tears in your eyes aren’t helping your case, your arms wrapping around his neck as you shakily sob out in return, cumming again, holding onto him for dear life as you cry, “Not m—mad at you, Daddy…” 

His tongue slides down to your neck, sucking on the skin, leaving bruises. 

With the sudden touch of cold metal against your thigh, your body shivers, mind entirely fuzzy at this point. 

“That’s yo’ niggas ring,” He hushes you with a light grunt, his hips going—”You feel it, mama? You feel it on me?”

“I feel all of you,” you moan, hands scratching his back, “And I love you so much, baby—feel you so deep—oh god—don’t—stop, baby.”

His tongue swirls on your throat, and it makes your head fuzzy, “I’m sorry, baby.”

“I hear you, baby,” you whimper in his own words he spoke earlier, “It don’t matt—oh, matter, anymore, baby. I’m yours, Ony.” 

Your back arches—but he’s still holding your throat. Onyankopon grins at the sight, his head leaned into your neck—grunting and groaning while his large hands help you move. Faster.

“I’ll always be there fo’ my kids—But, you my baby—I’ll never leave you when you need me. And you gon’ need Daddy, huh? Just like now.” 

You press your forehead against his, digging your teeth within your lip as your eyes roll—your mouth parts as you shudderingly moan, “Yeah, Daddy. Okay.”

You’re gasping, eyes watering, hips burning. Your entire body trembles as oceans of pleasure crash in violent waves, the mixture of a groan and scream dropping from your lips, panting as you try to control your sounds. You’re squirting. 

His eyes are glaring, tone deep, “Who you gon’ get on the phone and cry to, huh? Who gon’ treat you the way I do? Fuck yo’ ass the way I do? Who gon’ catch all these tears like me?” 

You’re fully sobbing, “Fuuuck, Ony.”

He grunts at your sounds, “Just like that—“ His hand presses on your waist, “Go ‘head baby. You know I’m right behind you.” 

Your body gives for a third time. Onyankopon’s tongue rushes against yours, the warmth of his cum filling you as his large palm cradles you into his body. You don’t know when your eyes closed, or when you stopped breathing. Your vision is a blur when you’re able to see again. 

“Mama—you aight?” 

You give the smallest nod. Your face is flushed, your mind a bit fuzzy as you whimper, “Got too drunk, baby. My head hurts.”

Onyankopon chuckles, the sound low as he’s leaning against the pillows, your smaller figure sinking into his chest.

“Lemme’ get you a warm towel—“

“Nuh-uh,” you mumble, “I’m fine. You stay here.”  

His hand is slow as his palm smoothes along the small of your back, his lips pressing against your cheek, “I told you I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” 

A comforting silence fills the room for a couple of minutes, your body nearly passed out against his. That’s when you feel your husband shift a bit beneath you as he murmurs, “Baby…I wanted to give you sum’ before the end of the night.”

You hum softly, eyes still closed. 

“Can I guess what it is?”

His laugh is low, his hand gently stroking the skin of your lower back. 

”You get one guess,” He murmurs, his other hand finding a grip in your hair.

“A Unicorn,” you softly gasp, eyes still closed as you hum, “Yup. It’s my very own unicorn.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Onyankopon chuckles as he says, “You was’ close, but nah— I know you’ been talkin’ bout how you wanna renew our vows.”

Your head peeks up. 

“And?”

“And—I figured, yo’ nigga can’t re-marry yo’ ass without some new rings.”

He leans over the bed, pulling two small boxes from his pants. It’s brighter than the jewelry within his mouth—a heart shaped diamond crystals within your eyes, the ring larger than the rock you already carried on your finger. 

You gasp, “Ony—are you serious?” 

“Dead serious. I got that lil’ venue you wanted in Rome, too. I’m ready for another lifetime with you,” His fingers find your chin, “You ready for another lifetime with me?”

“You did this all for me?” 

“I’d do anythin’ for you, girl. You my best friend,” He grins, “Can you promise me one thing, though?”

A sigh escapes his lips—you leap into his embrace, hugging him tightly, “That I’ll give you like a million more babies?” 

Onyankopon chuckles at your reaction, his large arm hugging around your frame as he answers, “Nah. Promise you ain’t never gon’ doubt me again. A nigga love you forreal’.” 

Your heart is warm. Your hands graze along his facial hair, looking over the face of the man that truly loved you like no one else would. 

You sigh, “I love you too, Ony. You got a hair tie?”

“Yeah,” he raises an eyebrow, “Whatchu’ need one for?” 

He’s shifting across the bed, digging into an open drawer of the bedside dresser.

“Cause I’m finna’ suck the skin off that di—“

“Girl,” he chuckles, “Lawd. You ain’t tired?

“I’ll never be tired of you. Say you feel the same—and that you love me!”

He chuckles, “I do. Quit playin’.”

And you knew that, because he did.

[novas-corner]

OH DEAR GODS PEOPLE ACTUALLY LIKED MY WRITING???? I hope y’all know I’m freaking out about this, it will get to my head (my apolocheese)

Anyways, a singular person asked for more… so… more it is!!

Again with all of this I know almost NOTHING about the game, I’ve missed out on a lot of lore since I am simply a card collector… and I’m very biased towards characters 😭‼️

Also this was NOT proofread properly (I’m doing this on no sleep at eight in the morning.)

Anyways, part 1 is here!

Also I’m basing their schedules around THIS post here!! (I think it’s official stuff? Idk)

Thank you for listening to me yap… back to being isekaid!!!! (I still do not know how to spell that)

Oh also there’s angst ish in here? Idk man I’m just writing out my thoughts at this point LOL

OH FUCK AN ISEKAI

Alright well sleeping was… a nightmare. All five of them argued until you eventually gave up and went to the couch. Damn boys, they’re gonna make your life trouble and you know it. But you gotta admit… five guys fawning all over you is kinda nice! The attention? Fantastic. They give you massages? UGH, so nice.

Well… you’ll need one of those mentioned massages tomorrow, you know damn well your back is going to be killing you in the morning.

You’re surprised to see Sylus walk into the living room, sitting next to you.

“You shouldn’t sleep out here sweetie, it’s not good for your body… what if I took you back to the N109 zone with me? You could sleep in a nice comfortable bed there and there would be much more space”

You groan, sitting up

“The only way I will do that is if you bring the other four with us. You need to remember that we are all not technically in our own universes since this ISNT the main storyline of the game. I don’t want them to be stranded here, I’d feel bad about that”

He sighs, but smiles down at you, pulling your head into his lap.

“Always thinking of others before yourself hm sweetie? Be a bit selfish sometimes okay?”

You huff, but relax into his embrace nonetheless.

“Yeah… I’ll try. Why are you up anyways? Couldn’t sleep?”

He’s running his fingers through your hair (or just rubbing your bald head, idk man) and chuckles down at you.

“Oh come on, I thought you knew all about us”

He’s teasing you… cocky mf-

“The N109 zone doesn’t have a day or night technically, so my schedule is a bit off from everyone else”

Oooooooh… riiiight… you had forgotten about that, honestly there’s probably so much you’ve forgotten. You never did read through the events or stories, just let them play in the background to get more pulls for banners… maybe you should get back into the story after all this blows over… or then again… maybe you won’t have to due to being with them all the time now.

“Right… I forgot about that… well I’m… tired. So I’m going to sleep- lemme move-“

You’re trying to shuffle off his lap to not disturb him, but he just rests a hand on the small of your back and tells you to ‘not worry’ and that he can ‘handle you sleeping for a bit’

…that’s sweet…

You’re relaxing into him almost immediately and drifting off, letting your slumber take over you.

What you don’t know however, is that once sylus is sure you’re asleep, he’s analyzing you, trying to see if this was all some ploy to not be caught for cheating… but it’s really a different person. What was once a person he knew was now just someone who knew him. It was a strange feeling, they had the face of the one he loved, they almost sounded like them too— they just spoke differently. It felt so right and yet so wrong to have you there… maybe he should have Zayne give you a physical checkup tomorrow, make sure you’re healthy and all.

Sylus tries to not care for you, after all… you’re not HIS, not the person he knew. But you acted the same in so many ways… hopefully this can all be fixed. For now though, he sits running his fingers through your hair as he reads a book.

~Timeskip~

It’s morning now and you groggily wake up to the smell of bacon. You’re sitting up, rubbing your sleep ridden eyes as a cheerful voice calls out from the kitchen.

“Oh! Sorry pips, did I wake you up?”

You’re standing now, walking over to Caleb with a yawn.

“Nono… I just woke up… whatcha making?”

He’s all smiles, you’re honestly not sure how he has so much energy at six in the morning but whatever.

“Just some bacon and eggs! Want some?”

He says with a grin, pointing to the plate of bacon and eggs. You pause, eyeing the plate.

“Were the eggs made first? I’m allergic and can’t really risk cross contamination… don’t wanna die today, y’know?” (I’m reminding y’all that this is ME written as if it’s YOU. We ain’t having eggs together homies 🫵🥲)

“Oh?? Uh… I think so? Maybe you shouldn’t eat them to be safe… I’ll make you something else!”

He’s saying while already looking for something else to make… at least they know where everything in this apartment is located, I’ve got no clue.

You’re trying to find bread and hear him mumbling something about how his version of you isn’t allergic to anything… guess that’s a difference.

He sees you rifling through literally every drawer and pats you on the head.

“You know you can ask for things… right?”

“Well- maybe I just wanted to see if I could do it myself, this is technically my apartment after all… but uh… where’s the bread?”

He’s laughing at you, pointing to the bread literally in the counter, you blind blind mf. Your shoulders almost slump in defeat as you pop some toast into the toaster and open the fridge. Huh… fully stocked… that’s nice, where’s the butter though…

As if reading your mind, Caleb walks behind you and grabs the butter for you.

“Here, it’s buried in there, you wouldn’t have found it alone”

You’re just kinda looking up at him, he’d got you cages in between him and the door- HE DID THE HOT THING WHERE THEY GRAB SOMETHING FOR YOU GANG. Ugh you forget that this is a game about flirting and they’re gonna be doing that.

“Oh… right, thank you”

You’re quickly scurrying away from him— and as everyone does, you get spooked by the damn toaster. That mf laughs at you AGAIN. Jerk…

Anyways you’re buttering your toast and watching as he plates his food, having made extra for the others… that’s sweet of him.

“I usually ask my version of you to work out in the mornings… so… would you want to join me for a morning workout after breakfast?”

You look up from your toast, a mouthful and crumbs on your face, he just smiles at you as you swallow your food and wipe your face.

“Mm- sure? Im not the strongest though so expect me to not keep up.”

Which gets you thinking… how in the hell are you going to do the job of the MC??? There’s no way you could deal with wanderers… would you being here jeopardize the job the MC has? Oh gods I mean you can technically rely on the guys for money but what if they get sick of you not being their MC. Not only that, is time passing back home? Will people realize you’re gone? Are you going to end up like an unsolved crime case?

“Hey… are you okay?”

His voice snaps you out of the despair trace you were in, you look up at him with wide eyes and see him looking at you concerned.

“Oh… yeah sorry I was just thinking… I’ll join you for the workout, it’ll probably take my mind off things.”

You’re trying to keep smiling, you’ve been obsessed with these men for months and they’re literally all here, you should just enjoy this in case it’s a dream, y’know?

He’d still visibly concerned but decides to drop it, finishing his food and grabbing yours and his empty plates, putting them in the sink to wash later.

“Well let’s go workout then shall we? You can sit on my back while I do pushups? Alright pips?”

OH BOY!!! You’re standing with a smile, nodding along and following him along to the door, pausing and looking down at your clothes.

“Ooooh wait I need to change my clothes first”

You begin to wander back to what you found out is your room, walking in to see Zayne buttoning up his shirt, and Rafayel and Xavier cuddled up in bed… well more like Xavier cuddling up to Rafayel but whatever they look kinda cute, y’know?

You smile at Zayne, he just nods to you, finishing putting his shirt on.

“There’s breakfast there, Caleb made eggs and Bacon, plus bread for toast”

You’re saying as you walk over to the closet, rifling through the clothes there. You know that MC has got to have something for a workout other than this damn hunters uniform… surely right?

Oh thank the gods they do. (I actually could not find one but I’m gonna guess MC has a workout outfit)

“Are you working out? Have you eaten breakfast yet?”

You turn to see Zayne, who is now hovering behind you.

“Oh! Yeah Caleb invited me to workout with him, I guess him and the me you know worked out in the mornings”

He just nods.

“Alright, enjoy that then, I’ll be back later, I’m going to try and stay with you overnight and whatnot to see if I can help figure out what’s going on, the rest of the men have also agreed they want to be around as well.”

You just nod, biting at your lip slightly. It’s sweet that they care about you enough, but you’re sure they’re only caring because they want their old lives back. You can’t really blame them though since you just want your life back too. Again, it’s nice to be here with men you’ve simped over… but you have friends, parents… ugh be positive damnit, we can’t be depressed all the time.

“Right okay…“

You’re trailing off, not really knowing how to proceed.

“The white haired man— Sylus I believe? He mentioned that I should give you a checkup at some point today. Would you rather visit the hospital during my lunch break or wait I til I get back?”

You raise an eyebrow at his words. Oh boy these mfs are in for a TREAT, they’ll never expect the amount of things wrong with me. Huh that begs the question, will my body function differently than theirs? I mean obviously I don’t have the protocore heart and whatever else… but is it different since they’re game characters?

OH MF YOU DIDNT ANSWER-

“Probably just when you get back, I’m not really sure how to get to the hospital after all.”

He just nods, patting you on the head and walking out.

“Sounds good, I’ll expect you to be ready when I get home then. Have a good day.”

HE’S SO STOIC???? I don’t know how to feel bout that but whATEVER YOURE SUPPOSED TO BE WORKING OUT.

You gather your clothes and move over to the bathroom, as you’re getting dressed you can hear Rafayel waking up and causing a ruckus over being cuddled by Xavier. God damn he’s loud…

You’re changed now and walk back to the living room, where Caleb is sat on the couch waiting for you.

“Ah! Finally pips! Felt like I was gonna have to search for you in case you had gotten lost!”

He’s honestly adjusted really well to the fact that I’m not the me he knows. I wonder if it’s a facade, I know damn well he cares a great deal for his version of me. STOP THINKING SO NEGATIVELY. DAMN.

Anyways you’re smiling slightly at his words, listening to him yap about what he’s planning to do for his workout, it’s just going in one ear and right out the other if I’m being real.

You leave the apartment and go to the gym that I guess the apartment has? (I’m making things up as I go at this point, things will just appear as I need them too)

He’s doing weights and stuff, you’re struggling to get through his tough workout (I’m crippled sorry gang, if I gotta struggle so do you 💔)

He notices this of course and slows his pace down, eventually stopping and patting you on the shoulder.

“Hey… you don’t need to do this y’know?”

You just sigh and look up at him defeated.

“Does your version of me do this every day? That bitch is ATHLETIC.”

He laughs at you and offers to just help him with his workout I stead, which you joyfully agree to, watching Caleb workout? YES PLEASE.

So now here you are, sat on his back and counting his pushups for him. Huh, suddenly the angst from earlier is gone as you watch his ARMS??? UGHHHH 🤩

He eventually finished that up though (UNFORTUNATELY) and just looks up at you… still on his back, making it just a lil bit hard to get up.

“Pips… you gotta move y’know?- I will just roll you over, you should know this.”

Oh we gotta know what that means.

“Hm? The ground is talking, how strange…”

You’re looking up at the ceiling with an almost expectant grin on your face, which he does not fail to realize. Well you asked for it.

Suddenly he has managed to roll you off him and have you underneath him. Don’t ask the logistics of it, just go with it.

You’re looking up at him with wide eyes, Christ it was fast— how in the hell did he do that???

He just chuckles and gets off of you, offering a hand out for you to take, which you do and he pulls you up. "l have to say, you don't act all that different, it's easy to forget you're not the same person I've known." OUCH????? OK ANGST IS BACK IG??? He's walking you back up to your apartment, the hand he used to help you up now wrapped around your shoulder "Oh?.. is that... a bad thing?" "I suppose it isn't! It makes you fun to be around!" "Ah okay..." You trail off, you know what you want to ask but... "What happens if you can't get... the other me back?" The words tumble out of your mouth before you can think to stop them, he almost freezes in his tracks but keeps walking, smile faltering slightly. "I'm... not sure..." "Would you stick around knowing I'm not the person you knew? Or are you just here to get them back?"

He doesn't know how to answer you, because of course he wants his version of you back... but would he just.. leave? He doesn't even know himself. "For now lets not worry about that, okay pips? I'm here now and that's all that really matters, we'll figure everything out eventually" You just nod, looking down and mumbling a small apology... well that's... sad. So anyways you finally make it back to the apartment, and head to your room to grab a basic outfit.

Xavier is STILL asleep- does this mf have narcolepsy??? Whatever, you grab your outfit and turn to go to the bathroom, you need a shower to think again, plus you smell like sweat.

The door to the bathroom is closed when you get there, you knock only to hear Rafayel telling you to come in. You walk in and OH MY STARS-

“OH- sorry didn’t realize you would be IN the bath- I can come back later I’m so sorry-“

He cuts you off with a wave of his hand.

“No no it’s okay, did you need something?”

He’s asking with a slight tilt to his head. Dear gods man he is sculpted like a god, probably because he literally is one- STOP STARING.

You manage to snap yourself out of it, face absolutely red and looking down at the clothes in your hands.

“Sorry I was just trying to shower and get dressed- I can do so later-“

He’s sitting up in the bathtub, motioning for you to come closer.

“You can come bathe with me if you’d like? I don’t mind sharing.”

SIR?????? You are red as a lobster and I fear he is reveling in this fact— HOW IS HE SO CALM ABOUT THIS????

“No- that’s fine I’ll just… see myself out… thanks for the offer though”

You manage to mumble out, looking anywhere but at him and finally turning yer butt around to walk out. You hear him chuckle behind you and call out to you as you shut the door, playful as ever.

“Your loss Mx bodyguard!!”

TEASING MF. Ok anyways we need to find somewhere else to change it seems. So you opt to just shut yourself in the little closet and get changed. Xavier is still asleep in bed, which is kinda cute, he’s out like a ROCK. Honestly and earthquake could pass through and not much would happen I fear.

You wander around the place, Caleb, Zayne and Sylus are all out somewhere, Rafayel is in the bath and Xavier is asleep. There’s… not much to do.

You’re tired though and you slept on the couch, so you find yourself walking over to your room and climbing into bed opposite to Xavier.

You pass right out.

—————————————

Gang I’ll be honest, you could FEEL it falling apart at the end😭‼️

In my defense, it’s almost eight in the morning and I have not slept.

I wrote myself into a bit of a corner too since there’s like… nothing going on ‼️‼️‼️

I also do not know how to write seggsy time so I had to QUICKLY 180 from that.

Anyways I have ideas for another part, if people don’t burn me at the stake for being a crap writer I might add another part to this disaster LMAO

Okok yap session is over, thank you for reading this !! 🤩

Tag list ?!?!

@lunia-likes-pomegranet

[isawritesshit]

jjk men as disney princes/other male love interests

images taken from various pinterest users. borders created by @anitalenia.

Synopsis: Pretty straightforward! Comparing JJK men to various Disney characters and their relationships with their s/o :)

Warnings and Content: written generally for fem!readers but i feel like it can be taken in any way; overall just fluffy stuff.

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Toji, Nanami, Yuta, Choso, Sukuna, Itadori, Megumi

Author's Note: Hello lovelies! I've returned with my first headcanon post. I hope y'all enjoy it! If you haven't watched any of the character's respective movies you definitely should if you get the chance! I apologize again for falling off the face of the earth (again). I'm on a break from my studies, so I have more time to write. If y'all have any asks or want me to continue any of my other stories, you know where to find me :)

Word Count: ~1.6k

gojo: naveen

y'all saw this coming.

like it was probably your first or second guess let's be real.

gojo has lots of expectations put upon him that he would rather not adhere to/just wants to be able to do his own thing.

the personality lines up pretty well. he's a cocky lil shit sometimes but he genuinely cares.

okay but SPECIFICALLY getting into though

think about this. naveen was only ever a prince to everyone around him. lottie only would've wanted him because he's a prince. dr. facilier only wanted to trick him because of his influence as a prince. even tiana's judgement at first was biased because he's a spoiled rich guy.

however, when he's not seen as a prince, he's able to have fun and relax. he discovers more about himself, and we sympathize. tiana falls in love with him when they're fucking frogs for gods sake, so she falls in love with naveen and not prince naveen.

i think we can all agree that if gojo were to have a long-time partner, it would be someone that sees past him as being the strongest sorcerer. someone he could cut out a separate life with. so it was upon this that i based my decision.

also lowkey, the scene where naveen set up a little date for tiana and was going to propose to her is gojo-coded to me and idk why. i could see him getting flustered and all that cute shit before trying to propose.

geto: kristoff

i'll admit this one didn't hit me at first, but i slowly found myself thinking this makes sense.

let's think about this right?

like sassy, hardworking man doing what he got to do to survive? right, right?

but he has a soft spot for those he cares about ofc, his found family and gojo sven.

also both are estranged from most of society both by circumstance and choice.

bet then idk just something about the scene where he immediately sees that anna might be in danger and he just rushes his ass over and across a frozen fucking lake.

idk

like it could be said for any of the characters listed, but i think that geto wouldn't admit or want to realizes that he cares that much for you until you're put into danger like that.

which sounds bad buuut at the end of the day when you're finally safe and the two of you are together he doesn't want to hesitate to show his affection for you.

both of them are just chef's kiss.

lmk if you agree.

toji: flynn rider

i know i keep saying here me out but HERE ME OUT-

there's just something about a hot criminal yk.

anyways, i was never thinking of this all along, but when i made this connection it sort of surprised me.

like, he would never approach your relationship romantically at first. there would only be something in it for the both of you before he realized he was royally fucked aka falling in love with you.

i feel like the only difference is just toji's over grumpiness but isn't flynn's cynicism almost similar?

furthermore, i think they both became the way they were because of the way society set them up to be with their born circumstances. but with the right person, they're willing to begin to go against that and what they had thought previously about themselves.

idk maybe i'm making a reach with this one.

just let him be loved.

nanami: shang

no brainer in my opinion.

both these bitches are GETTING DOWN TO BUSINESS.

but i def think the whole thing playing out between duty and heart would be an interesting dynamic for Nanami's character.

especially when talking about the SECOND MULAN MOVIE WHICH EVERYONE IS SLEEPING ON.

like i'm immediately thinking about the scene in the second movie where everyone thinks shang is dead and then boom he hops out all hot on a horse looking all disheveled and shit

then that got me thinking about season 2 nanami y'all know what im talking aboutttt.

plus having someone to challenge him but also introduce him to new concepts and ideas?? we all know he need dat.

anyways i love hot hardworking men.

yuta: aladdin

idc what anyone says this is the MOST accurate one.

both these dudes was in the TRENCHES when we first meet them, doing what they could with given circumstances.

but when it comes to getting what they want? setting out a goal and achieving it, whether that be to be with the girl he wants or save jujustu fucking society? yes ma'am he'll make sure it gets done. (even if they need a little help sometimes but that's besides the point-)

anyway, i think just the way he would treat you compared to how aladdin treats jasmine would be so similar idk. that sort of boyish shyness that he can get around you while still being able to impress everyone around him with his skillz.

brotha just wants to impress you doh.

he would do anyyyything for you.

choso: tarzan

barking for both of them i swear-

anyways, whole thing i was going after with this was the whole two worlds, one family thing yk? i feel like there are a lot of similarities with both tarzan's and choso's characters for it to make sense?

like he's been caught up in the curse world for so long, that when it comes to you, he needed/wanted to delve more into his human side.

he wants to know your interests, things that are important to you. bonus points if you were to be a jujustu sorcerer because you're supposed to be studying/exorcising curses.

choso really has to make a choice between you and his goals as a curse.

ofc, he's gonna choose you.

also, if we wanna get into to details. the scene where tarzan looks at jane? YOU KNOW WHICH ONE I'M TALKING ABOUT!!

yeah.

sigh anyways.

this one might've gotten a little too literal but i like it.

sukuna: adam (da beast)

okay.

yes the immediate connection was that they're both always angry i will admit.

but let's sit down and tinker with this mmm k?

everyone around both of them fear them. they were both cursed for the great power that they held.

now let's sit and imagine that we replaced him and you into belle and adam's situation? you cannot tell me that shit wouldn't pan out in a similar fashion.

i can irl that attraction to sukuna would not come immediately, but over time. learning about his past and him learning what's important to you, all of these things would contribute to your relationship.

but how could you love someone so terrible? so vile? someone who lived their life tormenting others?

now they said that to belle too.

but people, even monsters, can change under the right circumstances.

anyway, that got really serious.

but on a side note y'all were definitely having stupid arguments starting out just like in beauty and the beast.

and imagine if for whatever reason you saved his life.

oh brother he would never want to admit it.

of course, he would later be thankful for it.

belle and adam are probably my favorite disney couple also, so i liked diving into this.

itadori: hercules

THESE BABIES.

off the bat let's look at the similarities shall we?

both freakishly strong. both determined with a goal/called destiny from a long lost family. both new to the hero game and went through intensive training. both had cool mentors. both sweethearts.

but omg the way that hercules is so DOWN BAD AND IN LOVE with meg ugh. itadori is the same with you when you both meet fr.

and obv they are both extremely awkward but it's really endearing. aww.

but omg they would go BLOW FOR BLOW with any bitch that dare mess with y'all. whether it be some random ass man on the street or sukuna or a curse, itadori can FIGHT.

and we've seen the same thing in the hercules movie too ofc.

i think personality wise they are both similar matches which is why i made almost an instant connection between these two.

but they're also afraid of a lot of things too. they want to complete their goals but don't want anyone around them to die as a product of that. i feel that itadori's mind would think about that constantly with you, similar to how it happens with hercules in the movie and trying to save meg's life.

anywho

megumi: robert

okay now.

if you're thinking to yourself

who's robert

i need you to go get a disney plus subscription or on some random pirating website

and WATCH ENCHANTED

ONE OF THE MOST UNDERRATED DISNEY MOVIES EVER

and then come back to me and agree with me :)

now obviously it's kinda hard to compare like 15 y/o megumi to a fully grown, single father/divorce lawyer, but i feel like what that story represents in that relationship is sooo good.

megumi's had a very practical/cynical view on life since he was a child, as his circumstances forced him to. he does what he does to take care of his sister and still wants to look after her even after gojo comes around.

robert is someone who's also very practical and takes those views into everything to make sure he's making the right decisions for himself and his daughter. when his daughter asks for a storybook, he gives her a book on successful women. when asked why he hasn't proposed to a woman he's been dating for 5 years, he just wants to be sure in case anything falls apart.

but then you/giselle come along and completely break those realist mentalities, almost instantly. you don't encourage him to let go of what's important but rather view what's important through a happier/more positive lense. through those lenses, he falls for you, even when he never planned to.

like megumi's been through so much, but someone that could rework all of that and get him to relax would be the best thing for him imo.

anyway probably a weird one to end off on but yeah.

how many of y'all agree with me or are there any other ideas y'all had? 🥺

[highfantasy-soul]

I think Andor isn't against the characterizations in Rogue One, it's just against individual interpretations and if you spent ten years getting attached to that interpretation, yeah it can suck, but I'm seeing a lot of claims about Cassian's character from the movie that I really, really disagree with.

I didn't see anything dispirited in Cassian in Rogue One.

He's the one who tells Jyn rebellions are built on hope, the one desperate to get the message to base, he's the one who puts together a team while Jyn is trying to convince the council.

I think it's just headcanon that Cassian is a good soldier who never disobeyed who just got run down. It's a way you could interpret his actions, but only an interpretation that I don't think is really backed up by much in the movie itself. Why would a run-down rebel try to inspire someone to join the cause?

Saying Cassian changed dramatically when Jyn showed up is giving very 'Cassian just needed the love of a woman to be a better man' that just doesn't really feel like it fits the themes of the movie. Even Diego Luna says in the Rogue One press that Cassian sees a lot of himself in Jyn - they're very similar, which I think is enhanced with seeing him in Andor.

To me, Rogue One was about all these people seeing an opportunity to stand up and make a difference - not them seeing a woman who's just magically inspiring and following her. People seem to be trying to argue Rogue One is about a bunch of nobody's banding together to make a difference BUT ALSO it's about how super special Jyn is and how she magically brought them all together and inspired them to take action where they wouldn't have without her so showing Cassian following his own moral code and disobeying orders before meeting her is 'ruining' something.

It's 'collective action' vs 'the chosen one' and somehow people are arguing for both. Jyn didn't come to the rebellion with a gameplan, nor did she decide to go after her father alone - she didn't even know to spend time thinking about her father until the rebels broke her out of prison. It was a team effort. THAT was the point of Rogue One, to me, and I don't think it weakens Jyn's character at all. She's a piece of the puzzle that decided to stand up when given the opportunity just like Cassian did - and has been doing for a long time.

His big moment with her when she says "I'm not used to people sticking around when things go bad" and he responds "Welcome home" would make no sense if no one in the rebellion ever went out of their way to support someone else even when the council said no. Why would them coming with her against council orders be considered 'coming home' if that wasn't an established part of being part of the rebellion? If people only started disobeying orders because she showed up? It's 'home' because that's who Cassian IS and has ALWAYS been, Jyn just couldn't look past the rebel insignia to see it.

Idk, I've got a lot more I'm going to be posting about Cassian's characterization and how I feel like Andor perfectly set up Rogue One's Cassian per what we saw on screen - not headcanons. Jyn and Cassian's dynamic is fantastic and I think Andor enhanced that, it didn't invalidate it.

[princessofghosts-posts]

The way Nico is always relevant to the plot,no matter what,is something else to me.

In PJO he got introduced in the third book so kinda late since the serie is only about 5 books,and he didn't had much presence because we only had a couple of scene with him. And only during BotL his character is 100% present (even tho he and the others have a total different journey in the Labyrinth) but even with this little time,he was extremely relevant for the end. Without him and his help things could have gone horrible in Manhattan at the end.

HoO keeps this up. Nico presence is only felt in 3 of the 5 books (with a couple of scene in SoN),with one of those being MoA where he pratically show up only in the end. And even with that Nico is still 100% relevant.

I haven't be able to read all of ToA yet (dam my final exam-) but I think this is the only time where he isn't really relevant,which is fair because the story is about Apollo and his path,and the demigods are only there for support.

Then we have his own books where he is the protagonist of,so the plot is about him. And the other serie of the main timeline is the one with Percy,Annabeth and Grover trying to get the letters to get into Rew Rome University,but I see that more of a spin-off. They just want to have their happy ending after everything that happened and want to live a "normal" life in a good place. This also isn't about him so he isn't here.

But like,out of 5 series of the main timeline,Nico is relevant in 3 of them,we are talking about more than 10 books (Idk if in ToA he will have some kinda of role at the end,I will find out),and that is fucking amazing. Most side characters after a while aren't that much relevant and are put aside in favor of new characters. Nico didn't had this treatment. He isn't really a side character for se because I always saw him part of the main ones,but he just does his own things and appears when you least expect it. So he is in his own category. But for Riordan the difference between main and side characters doesn't matter since he killed off people that were part of those categories regardless.

Riordan could have choose to put Nico to the side after the end of PJO,he served his propose and got closure after all,but he still made him extremely relevant to the plot again–from the start. And I also really like how he did that because Nico had more of a guide role in HoO : in SoN he decided to go to the source of their problem and fix it alone; in MoA he was referred as the "key for the doors" and it got said multiple times how important he was for their quest; I loved how in HoH he took the role to call the shot about the place where they were going,because it highlighted his intelligence and how much capable he was; in BoO he had his own important side quest to do with the statue,hadn't he decided to help them everything would have be destroyed (like when he helped them during the first war).

And even in PJO he had a similar approach,starting with him in BotL when he helped Percy,to him pre-TLO telling Percy his plan,to him in TLO helping them even with his and Percy fallout because of Hades,and all of this while providing important informations all the times he appeared. He always had a sort of leading role but not like Percy,Thalia or Jason: Nico is more like an expert and intelligent teacher that help you figure things out and give you informations.

And I love this of him. I loved how in HoH Nico was basically mapping their path with his acknowledge,taking a bit of Annabeth's position while she and Percy were fighting in Tartarus. He isn't only a powerhouse and a skilled fighter,his intelligence is something else too. The difference of experience between the crew (minus Percy and Annabeth) and Nico was felt,and I loved that. I loved how he was like a guide for the crew during their travel to the temple,how he helped them even when he was in an horrible physical condition and his mental state was...yeah (and I hated how they treated him in exchange-).

I hate a lot of things that Riordan did with Nico's character,his relationships and his powers especially,but one of the few things he did right was making Nico having this type of supportive subtle leadership,acting like a guide/teacher for the crew and sometimes even Percy.

Idk why but it suite him a lot and while it give time and space for the other characters to shine,it also make him relevant in everything that happens,without the situation being always about him and without making him part of most of the important things that happens in the books (Riordan please take notes for Percy-).

[measureyourlifeincake]

just watched the first two eps of the new murderbot show and i'm still figuring out how i feel about it. i'm just gonna bullet point some thoughts/first impressions (under the cut bc spoilers)

despite my initial reservations about casting, i think skarsgård is doing a pretty brilliant job as murderbot

oddly enough, i do have some reservations about mensah's actor. her portrayal of the panic attacks didn't feel super believable to me, but to be fair it could just be because her panic attacks don't look like my panic attacks, and it's not like i make a habit of observing other people's panic attacks so idk. i do think she recovered more quickly than is realistic for an actual panic attack, but that's more of a writing/directing choice than an acting choice

overall, we're getting a much better sense of who the PresAux survey folks are as people than in All Systems Red, which is the correct call for a tv adaptation

i was surprised at how gurathin-heavy it's been, but i'm not mad at it. gurathin isn't really how i imagined him but i do really like the choices they made for him

specifically, the Eye Contact scene was soooo awkward, which i have mixed feelings about. like yes. this makes sense, we're getting a great sense of these characters and that's very well done but also hooo boy was it hard to watch

overall, it's a pretty jarring switch from being in mb's head all the time to, yknow, being in a visual medium where you can't be in a character's head in that way and i'm still getting used to it.

in re: that last point, i had mixed feelings about seeing stuff that murderbot can't see and thus getting information at a different rate than a book-reader would, but that shot of deltfall was delicious so i'm here for it

also mixed feelings about the pronoun-correction scene. having gurathin, the one who emphatically does not like murderbot, be the one to do the whole "it, not he," makes it seem like he's using it/it's pronouns to be a dick/emphasize that secunit isn't a person, rather than yknow. that it doesn't do the whole human gender thing. also it feels incongruous with the more expansive view of gender that exists in the world of the books for a character to default to he/him, even for a character with a body that most 21st-century humans would view as masculine. idk, i hope they explore the whole pronoun thing a little more, though i am worried considering that i've noticed cast members he/himming murderbot in interviews

a little skeptical of the portrayal of presaux as almost cartoonishly "silly hippies," though that could just be coming from mb's perspective in the corporation rim. i did find it pretty funny that they brought a cajon tho ngl

ok those are all the thoughts i can put words to atm, there's definitely something about the show that i feel like is rubbing me the wrong way but idk whether that's just the whiny little nerd baby in me going "wah wah they changed things when they adapted the story i like into a different medium! how dare they!" or if it's something actually legitimate i dislike. i definitely did like a lot of the choices they made and scenes they added, but there's just... something that feels off. maybe its just me tho. idk. i'll have to keep watching to see

my pettiest issue is that murderbot mentions watching worldhoppers despite the fact that it watches it for the first time with ART iirc, but i recognize that this is petty.

[ryansbabygirloliver]

yall i do not see how people think eddie didn’t want to stay in la and just let dictator boss chimney make him stay lmao my boy didn’t want to go back to texas chris clearly wanted to be back in la even, considering they were moved back in all of 3 seconds before he was texting his la friends and getting invited to a party and grinning like a fool. there was literally nothing keeping him in texas besides some warped sense of duty and buck was never ever going to ask eddie to stay or even imply that he wanted him to. eddie went to that building collapse to save his family. he knew they needed him and he wanted to be there for them for him. he made that choice to miss his plane because he wanted to because this is his home. he never wanted to leave.

chimneys speech wasn’t for eddie (or for buck or for anyone) it was for us - chimney taking eddie’s phone to save him from his own dumbass life choices was no different than eddie and hen stopping buck from texting tommy in 8a. they are a family. and everyone could tell eddie belonged with them and wanted to be with them and he was doing what he always does - makes a decision because he thinks it’s the right thing to do without considering that it’s the opposite of what’s going to make him happy. it wasn’t just chimneys speech that made eddie’s choice because chimney can’t actually do that and in the end if eddie really wanted to go chimney couldn’t force him to stay.

it was pepa telling him to stay. it was knowing he belongs with that team and the feeling of knowing that the next time a building collapses on them he might not be there like he wasn’t with bobby. it was not wanting to be in el paso. it was having his kid back. and yeah, imo, it was buck. because facetime isn’t the same. because he missed his fucking family and it’s where he belongs.

eddie stayed because he wanted to and because everything converged together in that moment and chimneys speech was just the thing that made him stop looking at flights right then but it’s not the thing that made him go back to el paso with his kid and pack up their entire life and bring it home.

idk. i feel like there were a lot of things we missed but that’s one thing i think did a pretty good job of - showing us that la was where eddie wanted to be and that going back to el paso was more something he felt like he had to do than anything. eddie just always needs a push to do the things he wants and needs. he isn’t to the point yet where he knows he can just do something because it’s what will make him happy. people keep telling him but he still doesn’t do it. he waits for permission. that’s just who he is and i hope (think) we’ll get to a point where that isn’t the case but i think it’s a disservice to eddie to act like he wanted to leave until dictator captain chimney told him no and once again took the choice away from him.

shrug.

[spiritsglade]

common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

that one thing you see in fics all the time <- I don't know if this means you hate it, idk, idc, just something you see a lot and want to comment on.

your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

[choose violence asks]

common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

there's this common trend of making jason more brutal than bruce? idk it's hard to place it exactly because no one really says this explicitly but i've noticed that if the bruce & jason conflict isn't about jason killing people then it's about jason going overboard beating the shit out of people. ties into how people in general associate jason with anger, i think.

and it's just. it's odd, when batman's brutality is a pretty key part of a lot of his comics? like i guess it's played for a joke mostly but him dangling people off rooftops by their ankles is like... one of the iconic things bruce does. slamming them into walls, holding them up using a hand around their throat, stuff like that. his whole brand is intimidation. and i'm pretty sure his [righteous] anger at crime is also a relevant element? + the violent grief spiral after jason's death, especially.

so it's weird to me. especially because i can't really think of jason being excessively brutal ever, in canon, beyond maybe the surgical level of torture he was willing to do for intel. (rip shurik.) but even then, that's distinct from excessive force born out of anger.

we get that with jaybin, especially with all the retcons. but not really with red hood jason. mmm i'm rambling. i chose something way too vague i'm been musing on for this, whoops.

anyway jason todd is not a tank he is acrobatic and he can do his flippies just as good as dick.

that one thing you see in fics all the time

jason defining this distinction between batman and bruce. you get this in both good dad and bad dad bruce, stuff like "jason looked up and it wasn't batman before him, but bruce, his dad" or "bru--no, batman, loomed over him, the blank white lenses of the cowl staring him down coldly."

now, i love the whole vigilante identity vs. civilian identity separation and signaling how different characters compartmentalize and view each other in and out of the mask through what names they use in the narration. and bruce in particular definitely draws very sharp lines between his personas. i just don't think jason does when looking at bruce.

bruce is batman is his father is the man he hates and jason does not differentiate, just like how jason acts the same, is the same, whether the helmet is on or not. it's a very weird little hangup i have and i don't think i could fully explain why i prefer headcanoning it this way if i tried.

nothing wrong wtih fics doing it! it does make for delightfully fun angst! it's just one of the really tiny schisms between my personal vision for these characters vs. what's popular.

your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

we as a collective NEED to do more with the fact jason (with talia's help) did a hostile takeover of wayne enterprises's r&d branch during under the hood. i need to know if he still owns it and what he had them make and how control was handed back to bruce if it happened at all. please tell me more. under the hood corporate espionage au when.

[tiki-was-here]

Most Valuable Possession Chapter Three

Injured Athlete Homelander x GN Physical Therapist Reader

Word count: 1.4k

didnt have popeyes while writing this so idk how good this will be. also idgaf about continuity i dont remember if i ever said how long his treatment would take but u dont remember either so its fine. hes such a cutie in this gif i need to impregnate him

Ch 1 Ch 2

John had finally started listening. After weeks of tension and near shouting matches, and you throwing your clipboard down, telling him point-blank that he’d never throw a ball again if he didn’t start respecting your expertise.He stopped pushing past your assigned reps. Stopped making offhand comments about "knowing his own body better than any chart ever could." And with the discipline came something you weren’t expecting—camaraderie (i dead ass had to google this word omfg). Maybe even something warmer than that. His walls didn’t so much come down as they shifted, cracked slightly open to let you glimpse through them.

Conversations wandered more often, lingering long after the check-ups were done. He’d ask about your day, your interests, the things you liked to do outside the clinic. You weren’t sure if it was because he was bored or genuinely interested, but you found yourself answering. You told him about your favorite music, the book collecting dust on your nightstand, the diet you kept saying you’d start but never did. 

The more you talked, the more you saw the version of John he didn’t give to the public. Not the towering all-star, but someone older, a little tired, a little unsure. He confessed more than once that the thought of returning made his stomach twist into knots.

“Baseball was never supposed to be forever,” he told you one afternoon, rolling his shoulder carefully while you adjusted the weights. “No one wants to admit that. Especially not the fans. But when you hit your late thirties in this game, you can basically count the days before you get the boot”

“You could always transition to something else,” you offered lightly. “TV personalty. Sports coach. Hell, you could model. You’ve got the bone structure for it.”

He laughed, short and loud, head tipping back.

“Model, huh? Think I’ve still got it?”

You rolled your eyes, grinning. “You know you do.”

That was when his expression turned a little quieter.

“Truth is,” he said, watching you closely, “I don’t really need to work again. I was smart with my money. Got investments in all the right places. If I really wanted to, I could walk away tomorrow and live comfortably.”

You raised a brow. “Then what keeps you in it?”

He shrugged. “Habit, mostly. And maybe…” He tilted his head. “Maybe I was waiting to have someone to walk away with. Makes it easier when there’s something—or someone—waiting for you on the other side you know?”

His voice dropped just enough to change the air between you.

You didn’t quite know how to respond.

—

“You ever think about dating someone younger?” he asked a few sessions later, unprompted.

You blinked. “Uh. Like… how much younger?”

He gave a crooked smile. “I mean, old enough to be an adult. I’m not a creep. But younger. Different phase of life. That sort of thing.”

You grabbed a resistance band from the cabinet and handed it to him, hoping the motion would distract from your flushed face. “I think it depends on the people involved.”

He took it, pulling with practiced motion. “I think it’d be nice, actually. Someone younger. Less jaded. Still soft. Caring.”

You pretended not to notice how his eyes lingered on you as he said it.

As the weeks passed, oddities began piling up.

Patients canceling without notice. Long-time clients of yours suddenly ghosting mid-treatment. Some changed doctors entirely.

“I’ve had some family stuff come up,” one of them told you in a strained phone call, voice rushed and low. “I can’t keep coming in. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

The strange part wasn’t that people left. That happened. But the suddenness of it—the fact that no one said goodbye, the fact that these were people you thought you had a good relationship with.

Still, you tried to shake the unease. It wasn’t like you had any proof. And besides, Johnwas on the cusp of being released. Just a few more weeks, and he’d be officially cleared and you'll surely get an influx of high end clients if all continued to go well/

You told him as much one day, while updating his progress chart , expecting maybe some bravado or excitement.

Instead, he looked almost… sad.

“Well,” he said, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Guess that means we should celebrate.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Celebrate?”

“Yeah. Properly. Let me take you somewhere nice. I’m talking about the real deal. Five-star. Wine list you can’t pronounce. Something to thank you for all you've done for me. You deserve it after all.”

The way he said it, the way he looked up at you through his lashes with the slightest tilt of his head, made it so easy to say yes.

You gave yourself a once-over in the mirror before leaving, satisfied with how you'd pulled yourself together.When you arrived John was already there waiting in the lobby.  

 He straightened the moment he saw you, and for a heartbeat, all you could do was stare. He cleaned up well. A dark, tailored suit hugged his frame, and his hair was slicked back in that polished way he rarely bothered with when he met with you. He looked every inch the icon the world saw him as—but the way he looked at you made you feel like the only person in the room.

“You look…” he began, then stopped, his eyes trailing over you. “Stunning.”

You murmured a thank-you, letting him lead you into the restaurant. The table was private of course, tucked in a corner far from prying eyes. Everything about the place screamed luxury—from the velvet-lined chairs to the flickering candlelight reflected in polished silver.

And all the while, John couldn’t stop smiling.(breaking the immersion here but hes just so cute i hate him ugh)

He talked easily, charmingly, but beneath it all, there was a strange nervous energy you hadn’t seen in him before. A giddiness that felt almost… too much.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all week,” he admitted, swirling the wine in his glass. “Felt like I was counting the minutes.”

You smiled politely. “It’s a beautiful place. Good pick.”

He leaned forward slightly. “You deserve it. After everything.”

You tried to laugh it off. “I was just doing my job.”

“No,” he said, voice suddenly deeper. “It was more than that. You pushed me. Believed in me. No one’s done that in a long time.”

You gave a small, appreciative smile, suddenly finding it difficult to maintain eye contact. Something about his tone made your stomach twist.

The two of you talked about random things: food, travel, a few stories from your childhood. He ordered for both of you with ease, swirling his wine glass like he was born doing it. You tried to relax, even laughed at some of his jokes.

But as the courses came and went, so did the mood. He grew quieter, eyes fixed on you like he was studying something delicate.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, setting his glass down carefully, deliberately. “I don’t know if I want to go back.”

“To baseball?”

He nodded. “I think I’ve done enough. My legacy’s solid. I could walk away right now and still be remembered.”

“That’s a big decision.”

He smiled. “Yeah. It’s not as scary anymore. Now that I finally have a reason.”

You smiled politely, unsure where this was going but letting him continue. 

His eyes locked with yours. “You.”

Your mouth was suddenly dry. “John—”

“Wait,” he said, holding up a hand. “Let me say it.”

He leaned forward, elbows on the table, his voice lower now.

“I’ve never had someone stick by me the way you have. Not just as my doctor, but emotionally. You listened,cared. You didn’t take my shit. You’re smart. Kind. Gorgeous.”

The world seemed to shrink around you. The sounds of the restaurant dulled, faded. 

“I’m serious,” he added, softer now. “I’d give it all up. Baseball. The spotlight. Everything. If it meant having someone like you.”

He reached across the table and gently touched your hand.

“So,” he said, eyes shining with a strange, almost childlike hope. “What do you think?”

You looked down at his hand, warm against yours.Looked at the man sitting across from you. The one who used to scare you. The one who still might. The one who now looked at you like you were the sun.

And you said—

[clumsypuppy]

horrible truth bomb dropped on my head 20 min ago

[vaguely-concerned]

thinking about not only the specific people lucanis pulls in to represent the 'locks' in his psyche, but the storytelling that happens in the structure/order of them. the underlying ideas are presented something like:

the lucanis who went into the ossuary never came back out again; he died down there (the boy caterina raised is gone forever) -> you're putting yourself in danger doing this (by being close to me), you should leave because I can't bear it if you get hurt because of me -> it doesn't matter even if we do try this, it won't work anyway (again because of me) ('you know what he's like, you can open the door but he won't walk through it' :'( oofie doofie) -> what if the real secret is that there was never anything but the monster in here from the beginning. you should leave, there was never anything here worth saving in the first place. (implicitly: what if I deserved what happened, all along.)

it runs pretty cleanly from outward-oriented attachment anxiety ('caterina won't even want me back like this, she won't recognize me (the same way I no longer recognize myself)) and gradually deeper inwards until we reach self-image and self worth. or you know, the harrowing basic lack of it lol.

"careful -- they'll know we're not right," spite says in one of their first scenes... but clearly, some very deep part of lucanis has feared or suspected for much longer than that that there's something inherently not right at the core of him, way before any demon entered the picture. and the voice he gives those lines to is the person who should know him better than anyone in the world, who he has loved more than anyone in the world -- and who deliberately chose to hurt him so horrifically anyway. 'It's better if I'm just a monster and deserved what happened than it is to allow for the idea that the brother I love doesn't really exist and maybe never did'. it's better if he's fundamentally flawed in some way that needed fixing to help him survive, and that's why caterina chose to hurt him again and again -- out of love. (this one I think he might have a very sad wakeup call on one day if he ever ends up with the responsibility and care of a child of his own in some way and realizes just how alien the idea of ever intentionally hurting them for any reason is to him. oh buddy. also interesting that he keeps caterina as the outermost lock -- there IS a distance he keeps there that he hasn't with illario. he doesn't resent her 'anymore' he says, but he also keeps her carefully further away from his deepest self.)

as far as I could tell the only note in the mind prison that's fully hidden and needs to be uncovered is the sad painful helpless stupid little truth that even after all this, even knowing what happened... he still loves his brother. is there anything illario could ever do that would make lucanis completely stop loving him, do you think? sometimes the trouble with unconditional love is that it is, well. unconditional, even when some terms and conditions probably would have been in order haha.

that's the pattern you see there again and again; he would rather destroy and abandon and imprison himself at every turn than let go of love, even when it's just scraps, even when there's only ever enough of it to hurt him. it's only when rook shows up and as it were takes his hand and walks along with him that he can entertain the idea of changing the story of what walking out the door might mean in the end.

[egophiliac]

the lovers, reversed

(aka I'm still freaking out about Jou)

[tear4years]

1. So you think Vi, the one that constantly thinks about her family and does things with everyone in mind would do something as selfish as this? well I mean she could idk teenage angst and well deserved anger so let's say for your arguments sake that maybe she did

but then, after Silco where they all just work with him bc of free will? Vi and Caitlyn say it so many times "They are forced to choose between a drug kingpin that wants to exploit them and a government that doesn't give a shit" that doesn't seem like they have many choices

2. Bc I was relating my first thought to my next thought? I went into a group of people that's related to the subject (the kids) to the other group of people that's related to the subjects (the adults). They're both TO ME exploited thanks to Topside and thanks to Silco, and they shouldn't be charged as criminals for trying to survive.

My family had to immigrate to a whole different country bc since 2016/2017 there are absolutely no job opportunities nor access to food or healthcare, and me and my sister even spent 4 days without eating literally anything and a bunch of other horrible stuff. So many people from my country became criminals to survive, do I think they deserve to be jailed? no. They are the consequences of their environment. And no back to your first statement I don't think badly of poor people because I myself was and kinda still are (not as much as before, thank god)

And yes I'll try to over explain my thinking process next time, even tho you're the first and only one (at the moment) to complain. I'll even take up english grammar classes for you how about that.

3. I think I understand pretty well how drugs can be especially deadly to a country/city that has literally nothing else to soothe their needs. And I think that's what's happening bc that's what the narrative leads me to believe?

And I'll never view a Zaunite who resorts to drugs as a "moral failing" drug addiction isn't something to be ashamed of (if you're ashamed of it it gets harder to actually acknowledge you have a problem.) and also because that's the consequence of their environmenttttt

Same with Silco, yes he did crazy shit and I will never EVER be a Silco apologist but you can't act like he just woke up one day and decided to be evil. Agaaainn he is a consequence of his environment.

He is violently oppressing Zaun but he isn't the one that threw the first stone, so to speak. Piltover has always been the bigger issue no matter how much season 2 writers try to convince me otherwise.

And you're acting like Silco just said "hey I got this drug ;)" and they all went in because they could and not because they HAD too. It's harder for me to believe that, especially since we see it being used as a means to get stronger (to be able to fight back) with Jinx and Vi we also see how they resort to it because they have no other choices to recover from their injuries, hell we even get to see how VIKTOR uses it himself to soothe the symptoms created by the exploitation of Topside (The Grey — Silco also probably lost his eye from polluted waters from the river too but I won't treat it like a fact bc I'm not 100% sure, that's just my personal opinion)

So if the writers wanted me to think they had other choices why did they have Caitlyn say that to her mom? Why did they show it as a medical aid too? Why did we get the full view of it literally SAVING Jinxes life?

If the writers wanted me to believe they were well enough to not have to resort to work exploitation why did they make Vander and Silco work at the mines even with the Grey damaging their health? Why did all the kids in Zaun wear clothes that seemed to be made from scraps of fabric? I thought you said they had job opportunities.

Something that bugs me about the "Caitlyn only gassed the Chembarons" discourse is that we saw in season 1 how many children are exploited by the chembarons so like... wtf happened to them? are they dead? are they jailed up?

‎

‎Also how many of the chembaron workers work for them because they literally have no other job option, bc there are no jobs at Zaun other than mining & working with the chembarons, so do they deserve to be jailed for working for them when they just wanted to support their family?