#idk. I hate that I even feel a need to doubt my own feelings!

[dykesynthezoid]

What is it about working customer service that makes ppl wanna come up to you and talk to you even when you’re off the clock… Like what changes in my body language have I unconsciously been making??? Normally I tend to have rbf in public and most people tell me I can be vaguely intimidating (plus I’m gnc so that’s another reason ppl tend to ignore me, bc they mentally put me in the category of “women who doesn’t care about her appearance/isn’t attractive to me”). It’s not a problem per se I guess (I mean. It kind of is when random men come up to me. But) but it is weird

[bunnihearted]

🕸🎀˚.⁺⊹

[girlthativealwaysbeen]

it would feel so nice to work towards a career that has meaningful impact and makes millions of people happy

[chibelial]

.

[cr4yolaas]

for lovers who hesitate — tsukishima kei

synopsis: you find your old academic rival at your new job. every bone in your body says it’s fate, but everything else seems to be stopping you.

notes: puking cuz idk how i feel abt this one. i worked on this all thru out my trip and there was a lot of scrapping and rewriting and deleting the entire thing and rewriting it again, but i think this version is the best i could get it to. i <3 tsukishima kei

tags: fluff → angst → fluff, self-indulgent long fic, reader smokes, reader has trauma w/ their parents, mainly fem reader oriented but gn pronouns used, reader has self-destructive habits, themes of self-doubt from both, tsukishima is probably ooc, slow burn but not really, the most awkward love confession ever, mitski rdr x radiohead tsukishima (sorry), proofread but not really

tsukishima kei, for once, was at a loss for words.

there you stood beneath the bright green foliage, your face marred by the heatwaves of the sun and still all too familiar. he thought, for a moment, that he had the wrong person — you had taken on a rougher appearance, but his body, heart, and soul still recognized you. and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to speak to you.

where had the last decade gone?

he coughed into his fist and walked past you, feigning ignorance to your arrival. when you followed after him with a keycard of your own, he found himself flustered.

no words were exchanged. he was playing the silent game with you, although he quietly hoped you would say something first.

and thus, he continued his shift as usual, with the added oddity of you shadowing him alongside his boss. he just couldn’t find the proper words to place on his tongue, nor the right gestures to show that he did want to talk, he just didn’t know how to.

but truthfully, what was one supposed to say in such a situation?

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

you believed that tsukishima hated you. and you wouldn’t blame him.

when you applied for this job, you had no expectations going into it, save for the hope of a higher salary and a lighter load than your previous job. what you had not anticipated was to stand face to face with the man you swore to hate in your youth.

a sliver of hope embedded itself within you; an overwhelming desire to perhaps refurbish a long lost relationship had taken root. but when he looked away so persistently and spoke not a word to you, that sliver dissipated into meaningless sand.

you continued your work as best as possible. it was a routine job — set up the displays for the day, guide whatever visitors came around, and leave in the afternoon. but when a certain blonde was sneaking glances at you and somehow always in your vicinity, it proved to be easier said than done.

you were too afraid to admit that his presence was refreshing. that, in the midst of the mundane and borderline unhealthy cycle you had formulated within the past handful of years following graduation, he had proven to be an odd factor; he stood as a disruptor to the routine. it was unwelcome. and even still, you craved it and more.

tsukishima kei had always been a constant in your life. you just didn’t expect him to reappear so soon, so suddenly.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

it was a wednesday. an uneventful shift had come to an end. and just as you rid yourself of your work attire, a verbal invitation to a work party was sent your way.

the prospect of it was almost laughable. you were under the impression that the body of employees in a museum would be too reserved to host parties such as this, and you were quickly proven otherwise. thus, you accepted instantly.

as soon as you sat down, you regretted it just as quickly.

the moon had just barely begun to hang bright in the sky, and yet the table was already full of drunken coworkers that you hadn’t seen before. loud chatter filled the room, as if this table was the only one in the establishment. it was overbearing.

before you could take even a sip of your drink, you excused yourself under the pretense of needing to use the restroom. instead, you escaped outside, the gentle breeze reestablishing your senses and reeling you back in.

he was also there.

“oh,” he exclaimed softly. his eyes drifted away from yours, the warmth of his cheeks illuminated by the dim lamp above. oh was the first word he had ever spoken to you since graduation. you nearly laughed.

“hello,” you offered quietly, still testing the waters of conversation. your gaze fell to his fingers, slim and cherry-kissed and blemished, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “um… i didn’t expect to see you here…?”

tsukishima laughed lightly at your tone, as if to conceal his own anxieties. “likewise.” he watched as you pulled out a cigarette, the stick meeting your lips like it were more than natural. “did you come all this way to stalk me? or to follow me? after all those years of silence?” he teased, although a tinge of bitterness dripped from his words.

you shook your head aggressively. “no, no, i just…” you bit at your lip for a moment before continuing. “i’m taking a break from my actual job. i needed to wind down before i return.”

tsukishima hummed at your response, evidently oblivious to your lie. he looked at you for a moment too long, his eyes grazing over each alteration and unfamiliar feature. he could not help but admire you in this light — the soft strings of moonlight in contrast with the neon signs glaring against your complexion painted an image he hadn’t seen in ages.

for the first time in a long time, tsukishima kei thought you were unbearably pretty.

what he didn’t catch wind of was your nervous shuffles and your incessant skin-picking as you stood beside him. he didn’t realize that the cigarette was a distractor, a tool to pull you back in. and he failed to acknowledge the stutter in your voice as you spoke to him, for it hadn’t crossed his mind once that you thought he disliked you. not that it would matter to him, anyways.

it’s too soon, he thought to himself. this is stupid, he argued. i’d mess it up if i did anything reckless, he reasoned. all of which were excuses to fight against the overwhelming reality of his vulnerability.

you turned your head away, the extended silence whittling away at whatever confidence you once bore. tsukishima watched with framed eyes and a calculative stare, as if scrutinizing each and every action you took. unbeknownst to you, it was the exact opposite of that.

the soft call of your name from inside the bar pulled your attention away, much to his dismay. he witnessed your frame disappear through the doors, your eyes flitting towards his so quickly he might’ve imagined it.

this was foolish. tsukishima decided that much. but despite his claims of how stupid it was, he was getting reeled in faster than he could pull out.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

despite how hard he tried to display his ignorance, tsukishima was caring at his core.

silent glances exchanged between shifts morphed into small conversations shared whenever possible, as if the tension that previously barred you from interaction had dissipated into nothingness.

at some point, he dropped off a neatly wrapped bento box to your desk, the fabric littered with small dinosaur doodles.

“what is this?” you questioned, an amused lilt to your voice. you failed to notice the way pink rose to his ears, too enamored by the intricate arrangement of veggies and rice.

“don’t think anything of it. i just had leftover food and didn’t want to waste it.” the excuse slipped through his lips as if it were truth, earning him a soft smile from you.

there were butterflies whipping their wings against his ribcage so aggressively they might have bulged out from his skin.

eventually, you invited him out for a walk to the convenience store nearby during your break. and after that, it became routine. with an umbrella in one hand and his wallet in another, tsukishima walked with you down the street to buy onigiri and sandwiches and sometimes a sweet treat nearly every day, and that shared hour became his favorite part of work.

it was silly.

you sat beside him in the booth, your blistered hands carefully unwrapping the plastic from your meal. to your left sat a can of soda. and to your right, he was there.

“i need to stop living off of these,” you complained while motioning towards the onigiri in your grasp.

tsukishima shook his head. “what else would you eat?”

“your bento boxes,” you commented absentmindedly, your bites becoming larger as you neared the center of the rice. “i liked it, when you gave it to me that one time. you should make it again.”

he looked away, his chin resting atop the sweat of his palm. slowly, he turned towards you. “it’s just a bento box. surely you can handle making one.”

“oh, shut up!” you laughed while shoving him lightly. “the fact that you can even make one is shocking. all you have in that head is volleyball and shit.”

“our old test scores say otherwise,” he quipped. the shift in your eyes left a bitter taste on his tongue.

“whatever,” you muttered before leaving to throw out your trash. a pit grew in tsukishima’s stomach.

the blonde mustered the last of his resolve and made an offer. “i’ll teach you how to make one.”

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

of all the things tsukishima was bracing himself to see, a thinly-walled apartment that was less than well-maintained was the last thing he was prepared for.

you came out from your bedroom in clothes that were far more casual than his, your hair disheveled and your steps uneven. “sorry for the mess,” you uttered while bending down to pick up a hoodie sprawled across the floor, alongside a plastic bag that looked empty. he could only watch in awe.

he placed his bag down on your counter before arranging the ingredients, each brought from his own home. the clatter of your rushed cleaning echoed behind him. and when you finally stood beside the man, he could not contain his grin.

tsukishima decided to hold his tongue. instead, he opted to gently guide your hands through each step, the perspiration collecting on his skin a stark contrast from the rough texture of yours. he realized how little you knew, despite your insistence that you were more than knowledgeable in what you were doing — it showed in your unstable cutting and your hesitance when preparing the pot for boiling — but he refrained from commenting, in fear of disrupting the peace he’d constructed.

on the other hand, you were horrified.

to admit that you were inferior to him in yet another aspect uprooted the envy you had burrowed deep within yourself, and you were terrified of letting it overspill. he was so calm — at least, that was what it looked like — and you’d be damned to ruin it.

mitski’s soft hums reverberated in the background, your shaky chopping filling in the rest of the noise. it was almost satirical — the solemn melodies coated your bare bones and rendered you silent, a strong juxtaposition to the warmth exuded from the closeness of your skin to his. neither of you did anything to interfere, save for an earlier comment from the man questioning your music taste.

(“then what do you listen to?”

“… radiohead.”

“wow. as if that’s any better than mitski.”)

tsukishima found himself smiling at your pride in your creation. messy, yes. but within each ingredient lay a remnant of him, and that was enough.

a stream of small talk emerged into you sitting on the couch together. the music dimmed down to white noise and an old romcom that had only two star ratings played on your TV, the poor quality adding to the humor. your legs leaned against his beneath the blanket. and there was peace.

tsukishima knew what it was. he knew what this would blossom into, and he could only hope and pray he didn’t mess it up in some way. your quiet yet crude commentary disappeared into the tender air, and he remained silent, as if absorbing each syllable that fell from your lips.

it was so quiet, and so vulnerable, and so delicate that he felt like he was going to explode.

he didn’t question it when your head fell onto his shoulder. he didn’t make fun of you when your colorful reviews on each scene turned into sleepy ramblings. and he didn’t say a word when you dozed off against him, your whole body against his.

instead, he looked around. he took note of the dust collecting on the cabinets, the water marks on the windows, the clothes and food and plastic scattered all over your living room, the dead plant on the shelf, and the half-empty pack of cigarettes sitting on the arm of the couch. it was all a far, far cry from the cleanliness and stability of his own home, and yet, he thought to himself, this is so like them. and he thought, i could live in here, if it were with them. and again, he thought, this could be a home.

tsukishima kei was of the belief that he did not have a type. but as he observed your house and reflected on its singular (?) inhabitant, he figured that this was his type. his type was your quiet laughs and your sharp remarks and your wrinkled clothes and the scent of cigarettes that always seemed to cling to you. his type was you.

he exchanged one last glance to your sleeping figure before getting up and leaving you to rest. not without wrapping up your lunch for tomorrow, and not without a small smile on his lips.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

hell came to you on a thursday morning — the day following whatever had happened between you and tsukishima. you hadn’t put on your uniform just yet, and your belongings sat outside of your locker.

your boss scrambled into the office, his brows furrowed and his larger hands closing the door as quickly as he could without slamming it. the sweat that collected between his wrinkles shined beneath the dim lights. his breaths were haggard and rushed and shallow.

for the first time in a long time, you felt fear.

“there’s people who want to talk to you outside,” he whispered. “they want to talk to you now.”

there was no one else in the building. no one other than you, your boss, and the people who were so adamant on speaking to you.

so why was it so loud as soon as you stepped out?

the eyes of your mother came into your vision first. then, the stare of your father. and finally, their faces blended into one large picture that made sense.

“what the fuck are you doing here?”

withered hands slammed against the table. you watched the papers and the dinosaur trinkets rattle. “that’s no way to speak to your parents.” you could feel it — the air seeping out of your lungs, depriving you of breath; the trembling in your palms; the cloudiness in your peripherals. you could hear them, but you couldn’t hear them. at some point, their vocabulary was solely financial, and at another point, it grew cruel and violent, akin to wild dogs gnawing away at your skin. you didn’t know where it was going. the hastened footsteps of an unidentifiable coworker neared, and the shaky breaths of your boss behind the door grew louder and louder.

you needed to leave.

your feet led you away before your mind could. the yelling softened, until finally, the only sound was the chirp of birds and the whirring of cars.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

tsukishima didn’t see you for a week. he didn’t hear any mention of your name, didn’t find your face in a crowd, didn’t feel the vibrations of your voice against his chest. you had disappeared, and no one told him why. it wasn’t until your name didn’t show up on the schedule that something clicked.

it was cruel. you were cruel, he decided.

tadashi sat on the couch while his roommate leaned against the counter. the hum of the air conditioning blinded the blonde’s senses.

“i don’t fucking know what i did,” tsukishima groaned into his palms for the twentieth time that night. “they just left. they quit and i can’t even contact them because i was stupid enough to not ask for their number or email or anything. i don’t- i don’t fucking know, ‘dashi, i don’t.”

“i’m sure they had some good reason,” his friend attempted. “i don’t think they’d do that if it weren’t within some sensible limit. it was fucked, yeah, but… i don’t know. i think they’ll come back when the time is right.”

it was tiring. it was tiring to be left alone not just once, but twice. and it was tiring to have it hurt so much more the second time.

tsukishima ran a hand through his hair. “it’s so stupid.” another groan spilled from his tongue. “i’m so fucking tired of this.”

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

this was just about the fourth job you had applied for.

the museum could no longer be a part of your routine — instead, it morphed into loud nights and bustling men and the clinking of glass; it emerged from quiet and gentle tours around dinosaur exhibits to noisy cheers and yelling and the more-than-occasional bottle thrown at your head; it turned into pure, devastating loneliness.

it was compact. it was suffocating. it was overwhelming. it was everything the museum was not. but you could not return there, no matter how much you ached for it.

you were avoiding him. avoiding everyone.

a gentle nudge from a blurred face reminded you that your shift was over for the night, coupled with an apology for the gash that formed on your head from another drunken man who had no outlet for his anger other than you. with heavy steps, you trudged back home, thankful for the week’s pay and the free food and drinks.

it was quiet.

the lights were off, and the LED numbers on the microwave read way past midnight. a dull pounding resided in your chest.

just the other day, it was so vibrant. you were alive, and so was he, and it was going well. but it was wrong. you realized that much when your parents came to remind you, and you realized it again as you quit the same day.

the thumping in your chest spread to your head, and your back met the wall with a force that was sure to upset your neighbors. carefully, daintily, you slid down, your body reaching the floor gently.

you missed him. but it was wrong.

that night, for the first time in a long while, you cried.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

tucked away in a small alley in sendai resided an establishment with only three tables and a bar that was worn down from years of use. and behind it, tsukishima found you.

he was only out for a walk. at least, that was what it was until his feet brought him elsewhere and he stood face-to-face with the most suspicious of buildings. and when he saw you, it felt as if all the anger and guilt and distress that riddled his bones and flesh and blood withered away, as if it hadn’t coalesced within his veins over the past month.

before you could hide, his hand snaked around your wrist, his touch light yet desperate. “can we talk?”

talking entailed bringing him back to your apartment. and by extension, it included him witnessing your house somehow being worse than before.

tsukishima found himself sitting on the floor with his back to the couch, and you found yourself sprawled across said couch. he picked at the blisters on his fingers before quietly asking, “why did you do that?”

he could hear your nervous habits — the shifting, the fidgeting, the harsh lip biting. “i don’t know.”

“bullshit,” he muttered under his breath.

you turned over onto your side to face his back. “my parents found me,” you explained meekly. improper guidance leads to destructive tendencies. tsukishima kei, in his high school years, was deemed your only obstacle to complete succession — always a few points ahead, a few questions ahead, a few steps ahead — and your poor influence from youth only fueled such a fire. and so, you felt that it was reasonable to loathe him. your judgement was clouded beyond repair.

tsukishima listened. he listened to every detail, every portion of your retelling of each segment of your childhood, and your teen years, and your silly hatred for him. he listened to you talk about what you did after graduation — how you got into a good university but dropped out and hopped between a multitude of jobs (thus proving your claim at the work party to be a lie), and how you were constantly escaping from both the stress and your parents.

he listened so intently that it was overbearing. you didn’t tell him that. instead, you talked and talked and talked until you sculpted him into someone who knew your entire life, as if he were there from the beginning.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered through stubborn tears. you hated it — how exposing it was, how you had practically dumped everything onto him in one go, how you couldn’t help but beg for forgiveness in the end. most of all, you hated how easily he gave you his forgiveness.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

tsukishima didn’t leave your house at all that week. you found no energy to complain.

in the morning, you’d find him cleaning whatever disaster you left behind, whether it was the pile of laundry on your bed or the collection of full trash bags next to the front door or the food (or rather, the lack thereof) in your fridge. he was silent all the while, and that hurt more than any berating he could have done.

“why are you still here?” you asked him one night. you had finally moved from the couch to the bed, and tsukishima couldn’t be any prouder. (any movement at all was enough to be proud of, he felt). “you shouldn’t want to be here.”

you watched him heave a heavy breath as his shoulders drooped. “because i want you,” he admitted, his voice unmistakably tender and soft and ridden with a youthfulness that he unearthed from deep within himself. “i want to be with you and i want you to be happy and i just want us to be happy together, for once.”

he spoke of his affections so fluently, as if he were born to share them with you. and still, every bone in your body was whispering otherwise.

even so, tsukishima promised that he would be willing to wait. even if it meant watching you down an unreasonable amount of beer at an unreasonable hour.

he promised to sit through it all with you, even if it meant listening to you call his name out in long, drawn-out tones. even if it meant hearing you confess your long-harbored affection for him. even if it meant hearing you say that you never told him, not even in high school, because you felt like you didn’t deserve to tell him.

tsukishima didn’t understand.

he failed to comprehend how you didn’t feel deserving, when his whole body, mind, and soul was bound to you; when, in the depths of the night, he’d burn pink in the night at the mere thought of you; when he was so uncharacteristically smitten for you. he didn’t get it. he didn’t think he ever would.

not that he said anything about it — at least, not in that moment. not when you were inexplicably drunk, to the point where you couldn’t move a limb without tumbling over.

but, without a doubt, he went to bed with a stupid grin and a berry-kissed face.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

it took another couple of weeks before tsukishima would see you at work again. you entered through the doors as if you never left, and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be excited or neutral or anything else, because his guts only knew tenderness with you at that point — all the fake ignorance and stubbornness and denial had been cast aside.

you basked in a shared silence in the locker room, until you finally admitted that you were, in fact, healing. to some degree, at least. you asked him to come over again under the pretense of seeing how clean your house was. you detailed every segment of your life, from when he last saw you to your entrance into the museum, including how you made yourself breakfast for the first time in forever and how you drank a cup of water almost every day. and he was so overwhelmingly proud, so much so that it spilled over and he couldn’t contain himself.

“i love you,” he blurted out, his rushed admission cutting off your rambling. you whipped your head towards him, but he was looking everywhere except for you.

“what?” you exclaimed.

“i said i love you. i’m in love with you. what don’t you get?”

your jaw hung open, just like that of a fish. “wait- what the fuck?” much to his amusement, you jumped up and began pacing around the room. “i like- well, i guess, love,” you paused, the vocabulary uncomfortable on your teeth. “you too, but like- what the fuck? who told you that?”

“you did.”

“what?”

tsukishima kei was laughing. he was laughing at you, and yet, you weren’t as angry as you expected to be. he was laughing, and all you could do was relish in the noise.

“so,” he hummed delightfully, an amused smirk on his lips. “am i still coming over?”

you (begrudgingly) agreed. again, he laughed — this time, at the heat rising to your face.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

through the cracks between your blinds, silk strands of sunlight crawled through, a soft reminder of the morning. beside you, a mountain of warmth lay, with his glasses still on his face and his hoodie misshapen on his body.

tsukishima was always the first to rise. he would wait for your eyes to flit open gently before getting up and making breakfast, despite your protests that your food was probably better than his. he never listened.

the splatter of coffee into your cup served as the only noise in the room, save for the dull noise of the morning news on the TV and the cars passing by outside the window. you watched intently as the blonde set up the table, his lip drawn in a tight line but his eyes shimmering with contentment. “eat up,” he spoke quietly as he took a seat in front of you.

tsukishima kei was, by no means, a cruel person. he was just a little rough on the edges and occasionally didn’t quite know how to say things without being mean. but as he sat with you, eating breakfast made by him in your shared apartment; as he pressed a fleeting kiss to your forehead before leaving to change, ignoring your groans about the remnants of syrup on his lips; as he drove you to work as the sun settled in the sky; you realized he was simply a man in love.

[lady-ashfade]

A Son For A Son

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Deamons Bastard!Reader x Yan!Team black. Pt.2

╰･ﾟ✧☽ first fic here.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ summary: the queen has given a order, and craving revenge you expect.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 1k

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: blood & gore, murder and death, reader killing, reader being her father, uncanon events, poison, I just needed to make this.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ DONT READ IF YOU WANNA BE SPOILED: reader does in fact kill aemond in this and idk if you are happy about it, I want his head to take to my queen.

“I want Aemond Targaryen.” she stood before the council covered in dirt and who knows what.

It had been two weeks since the letter about the death of Lucaerys had arrived and you all had been the worst for it. and ever since she searched and searched for a sign of truth, desperate to be wrong. that her sweet boy was alive. you knew he was dead and you wanted everyone to pay for taking luke. you wanted aemond targaryen to pay. you took anger out on the ones you could, or roamed the sky’s to get your mind off of things. you would not act without her orders.

The resemblance you shared to daemon was close and terrifying for your foes. just as you had the idea to fulfill her wishes, your father did too.

“I don’t know what you’re planning,” the sound of your voice made his shoulders fall and a smirk appear on his face, one you couldn’t see. a dark cloak draped over his shoulders and matched the same one across your frame. “but I have a better one.”

“No.” you glare at the back of his head. again denied something worth your talents.

“You can’t tell me what do to this time father.” standing your ground as his eyes turn around, a look he uses when he’s serious. and for him it was like looking into a mirror, you carved blood just like he did and loved getting to spill it. even for no reason at all.

“I have waited around for a task, and she has said she wants Aemond. I mourn the loss of my brother too, and you can not keep me from whatever it is that you think you’re protecting me from.”

Hundreds of men died at the end of your blade at night as you slip throughout the shadows. you were a slayer, a assassin who followed your own roles but loved coin and the game. a story to tell children to make them weep and fear the dark. so how could he still think you are not ready.

“I have let you do what you needed, patrol the blockade against my wishes. or fly alone when our enemies wait to make us weaker” he lectures, “and I will not let them take you.” for a moment you saw a regular father begging for his daughter to stay safe. you aren’t just a daughter now but a soldier in war.

“I would never let them take me,” you step closer and give him a smug look, “I am your daughter after all.”

Instead of going himself, daemon sends you, for the head of the copycat prince.

the castle gates are easy to slip passed with the help of a guard who shares your hatred for the hightowers. and many times, you slip into the keep without getting caught.

“Something told me you’d be here,” his eye glanced at you amused from the cough as his fingertips spin a coin. “It’s as if the gods made me stay here.” aemond unfolded his legs and leaned forward on his knees. many years you hated the way he spoke to you like a interest of his to be claimed like his bitch dragon.

“Then the gods agree you’ll die tonight.”

aemond waited for this moment to finally fight you. he wanted to win and keep you forever as a trophy, a wife who was like him and everyone feared without a doubt. he wasn’t a fool, you are a skilled killer and he needed to bring his all. and some skills stayed in the dark.

a slice in his chest, in his leg and cheek aren’t as bad as he thought when he had you pinned down onto the table. the cold feeling of metal as his hands wrapped around your throat was refreshing. you didn’t try and fight back as he took your breath because the fight was won as soon as it started.

And he should have known you couldn’t be this sloppy.

curling lips up into a devil’s smirk, looking into his eye he feels himself weakened and his grip loosen. the power of letting a man win and wiping all power from beneath their feet was riveting and a hobby. Aemond leaned back and placed his weight onto the couch while trying to keep composure. “You honestly think i wouldn’t have a plan? Make my own rules?” you raise a brow and rub the sore skin of your neck, inching closer while standing up yourself.

“Silent reaper is the name they whisper about me, come in quickly without notice. I always kill my enemies without them awake, but you,” you point and lean down as his eyes become bloodshot, “I want to feel the most pain. And I will enjoy it.” within a few minutes his body starts to leak its own blood. he was quickly taken to death of course, you couldn’t hear his pleads but you’ll satisfy with his death.

guards fall silent when they watch you walk through the halls they don’t even announce your name. white locks lace your fingers and the weight of his head was little and you look like your father with the proud eyes of what you did. the sounds of your footsteps cause the council to glance over but stay with shock. non of them expected to see that and much less out of no where. though, your father seemed pleased and chuckled at the sight.

“The head of Prince Aemond Targaryen, your Grace.” Walking past Jace you set the bloody head on the table as people gawk and flinch. “the poison was my idea, hope you don’t mind.” a second later you yawn of exhaustion and boredom. you look at rhaenrya as her eyes glossed with the revenge you took for her.

“If you’ll excuse me, the ride back was tiring and I wish to get back to my book.” bowing down you flash a “polite” smile and walk away to your chambers with pride and a hand rested on your blade. with everyone wondering what else you would do for the queen,

Your mother.

[leclercsluvs]

CL16 | Already Over | smau

part 1 | masterlist

an: this is my first time writing something like this, so please be nice :,) also this will include sort of cheating (not really sure what to classify it as), and for that i am going to be using pics of charles and alex, however do i see any alex hate you are blocked or something, thank you very much) fc: sabrina carpenter pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader inspired by: vicious by @azulpitlane and the album 'emails i can't send' by sabrina carpenter

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 2.047.489 others yourusername me and my baby <3 tagged: charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc can we stay like this forever?

yourusername always <3

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 2.790.487 others yourusername looks good in photographs tagged: charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc you're the one looking good in photographs. why do you think i have the camera out?

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff and 2.047.489 others yourusername done with touring for now, gonna focus on writing some more music for all of you. see u soon <3

charles_leclerc beautiful

yourusername <3

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 948.302 others charles_leclerc you're my only one <3 tagged: yourusername

yourusername love uuu <33

yourbff woah isnt that a little early-? yourusername love works in mysterious ways

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourfriend and 1.409.867 others yourusername never been so glad to be this tired. (thank you lando for the teddy bear, it was really comfortable) tagged: landonorris

charles_leclerc glad to be of help ;)

alex_albon wow i did not need this information

landonorris i want it back >:(

yourusername sorry not happening, too comfy landonorris please i said you could borrow it 😭 charles_leclerc sorry mate, it's hers now

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 1.409.867 others yourusername i might be mad for him (dont tell him, it'll go to his head) tagged: charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc wonder who

yourusername shush

yourbff girllll whattt??? since whennn?

yourfriend i think she may be a little crazy yourusername i told youuuu 😭

f1wagsupdates

liked by f1updates, sharllover and 375 others f1wagsupdates charles was spotted with a woman today at the beach. we have also seen him being flirty with y/n l/n on instagram, and this most certainly is not y/n. what's going on? tagged: charles_leclerc

sharllover you think y/n cheated?

f1editor i wouldn't even doubt it 🙄 luvy/n now why would you start a rumor like that? scfty/n *man hangs out with another woman* *first woman didn't do shit* people: SHE MUST HAVE DONE SOMETHING WRONG!! y/n.aep now why is it charles is spotted with a different woman and y/n is being accused of cheating? 😭

cl_lover damn and i thought he was such a nice man 😭

f1updates i guess it is all men 💔

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, olliebearman and 1.199.750 others charles_leclerc i'm too late to be your first love, but i'll always be your favorite tagged: yourusername

yourusername favorite forever <33

yourfriend girl that's wild y/n.aep girl did you not see the photos? 😭 y/nsfav we need her to see fr

leclerslove ew

cl_wife i dont know but i feel like she's with him for the fame

lovy/n she literally has a successful career on her own, what are you on about? 😭

lechair she gives pick me vibes idk

leclerclvr idk him and charlotte were better IDC WHAT YALL SAY

clarkeysbog posting this right after the photos of him and the other girl leaked??? kinda sus ngl

norris.vfx no literally what is he thinking??? 😭

-

part 2

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

AHHH hii angel thank you so much for responding to my last request, it was more than perfect!! 💗

idk if you'd do this because it's a very sensitive topic and i don't want to make you feel uncomfortable but i need a little bit of comfort and reassurance since my bday is in like an hour hehe.. but can i have a bucky with a reader who's attempting to lose weight by dieting and working out but it kinda goes downhill (i think you know what I'm hinting at), and she's like a bit insecure and compares herself to models. and bucky finds out and helps her.. and just a bit angsty but turns out very fluffy with cuddles and stuff. you absolutely don't have to write this request if it's too overwhelming, lot's of love, take care! 💗💗💗💗

- 🦢

my love hi!! you’re more than welcome, glad you liked it!! happy belated birthday, hope you had a great day!! I love stuff like this so it’s no problem. sending love, hope you’re well. thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

SMALL CHANGES.

bucky barnes x fem!reader — angst & comfort

word count. 1073

warnings. potentially triggering content? mentions of dieting and working out. might be a hard read for some?

Comparison is the thief of joy. 

It's something you've always struggled with, the endless questioning of yourself, picking yourself apart in ways you believe you don't fit in. It's an easy habit to slip into but a difficult one to break out of. 

As of late, those feelings resurfaced - finding more and more 'faults' when you put yourself up against others. Models. It was as if you got sucked into a spiral of scrolling through images and doubting yourself, all of it leading to you curled up crying in bed. Always. 

No matter how upset you'd be, you'd still find yourself swiping up to see more - feeding that little gremlin in your mind. 

And after a little while, you decided you wanted to do something about those feelings - granted the reasoning behind it wasn't coming from a good place, but you'd be bettering yourself, and that's what you originally wanted.

So you changed your routine: waking up before six, secretly squeezing in an hour workout before joining Bucky on his morning runs, coming back home to have breakfast —an apple— then going about your day only to workout again once you get home. 

You thought food was the enemy, so you restricted yourself with crazy diets and regimes you hear about in Hollywood. You tried a water cleanse, a juice cleanse, keto, even fasting, but no matter how hard you thought you tried, your efforts would not be enough for what you wanted.

All it left you feeling was tired and crappy. No matter how much you hated your body, your body hated you more for what you were doing to it.

You thought you were being sneaky and secretive in the way you were going about it, but you couldn't be more wrong. Bucky, your boyfriend, knew something was running rampant in your mind: every dismissal of a snack you previously loved, every time he watched you dodge a mirror —or on the contrast of seeing you stare too long in one— all of it only confirming what he had hoped not to be true.

It's a sensitive topic, especially to bring up to a loved one. Bucky knew you weren't going to be forthcoming, so he wanted to take the first step.

You were in your shared bedroom, sorting through your dresser to find a clean pair of workout clothes - all of your others drenched in sweat from your previous workouts. 

"Hey, honey?" Bucky calls out, knocking on the ajar door. 

You turn around to see his sweet face, your own almost embarrassed from being caught. "Yeah?" 

"It's almost dinnertime. What do you say about going to that restaurant downtown? The one you love?" he asks, trying to scope you out.

"I have some stuff in the fridge. I bought a bunch of kale that needs eating before it goes bad," you reply, turning away, redirecting your focus to the clothes in your drawer.

Bucky leaves his spot in the doorframe, instead walking over to take a seat at the foot of the bed - behind from where you stand. "That's not food," he softly shakes his head. "Rabbits eat that. Let's get something good. What about a chicken sandwich? Pizza?"

"It is food," you reply. "Put on some pepper and olive oil, then bake it— it's good," you add, trying to convince him and yourself. 

He faintly sighs, resting his elbows on his knees. "No one likes kale."

"Maybe you're not cooking it right," you playfully protest, trying to distract him. 

"No, I cook it right," he stands up, walking to stand beside you. "We haven't gone out to eat for a while. I miss spending time with you like that."

You missed it too - far more than you'd ever anticipate. But you didn't want to slip up again. You already had a few times this week and you didn't want to make a habit of it. 

"I do, too, but I already ate. Maybe in the week?"

"What did you have?" he asks, craning his neck to look at your face.

You hesitate, not having an answer. "I can't remember."

He exhales weakly, your unknown confirmation making his heart sink. His hand reaches for yours, the act like he was pulling your attention back to him. "That means you haven't eaten," he utters, his tone soft - the meaning behind his words almost scolding. 

You feel cornered, and once again, you have no answer for him. 

His grip tightens, gently turning you back to him. "You need to eat, honey. Your body needs it... I know what you've been doing."

After hearing something you didn't want to, your stomach drops. Bucky knew.

"I should've said something when I noticed it," he shakes his head, feeling at fault. "You know you can't keep doing what you're doing?"

You nod meekly, avoiding his eyes. You did know that what you were doing was unhealthy, but you wanted to be like them. If they can do it, why can't you?

"Why have you been doing it?" he asks faintly, cocking his neck to meet your gaze.

"Are you telling me off?"

He's quick to shake his head, denying it almost instantly - both his palms reaching to cup your face. "God, no," his soft eyes bore into yours. "Of course not, honey. Never," he reassures, thumbs grazing over your cheeks. "I just want you to look after yourself."

"I do," you hesitate a response, the words delicate - almost inaudible.

"You don't," he mumbles. "The working out, not eating? You're hurting yourself," he pauses. "If you want to change, I can help you. But we'll do it the right way, okay? None of what you've been doing."

All you can do is nod, silently acknowledging your accidental wrongdoings.

"Just small changes," he leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips. "That's all you need, okay?"

"Okay," you faintly smile, agreeing to the help. 

"So," he starts, removing the placement on the sides of your face. "We're going to go out for dinner. And you're going to order whatever you want— whatever it is you've been wanting to eat," he pauses, noticing the hesitancy in your expression. "And we're going to order water instead of wine. Small changes."

The thought of ordering a meal you've restricted yourself from is enough to make your smile genuine. The idea of having your lover's support making it all that much easier.

[ihopeiexplode]

A/N: Hahahaha I won't delete this I won't delete this I won't delete this I won't delete this I won't delete this I won't delete this

A/N: idk how to feel abt this one

Boss!Sukuna Who: Was never fond of love. and never will be. well, unless it came to you of course

"You seriously only dated 3 people in your whole lifetime??"

"I just answered your question. yes, i only dated 3 people, how many more times do i have to repeat myself?"

"Booo you are so boring..."

"Have you dated anyone and stayed with them after a month?"

"..."

"Exactly. get back to work"

"Gee your no fun"

He'd watch as you walked away from him with a pout on your face, when were you suddenly so interested in his love life?

—

"Sooo what's your type in a woman then?"

"Are you just gonna keep following me to ask stupid questions?"

"and plus. why do you care?"

"Welll Valentine's day is right around the corner and you said you never dated anyone before sooo being the good employee I am I'm making sure you have someone to spend the day with !!"

ah, that's why, he never cared for such a useless holiday seeing how his past history with his partners never worked out well the first one cheated, the second one used him, and the third one just straight-up cut contact with no reason whatsoever

maybe that's why he was never fond of the concept of love and never will be, it's a useless thing and all it's gonna do is just hold you back down so why bother.

and plus, with the current generation, he doubts true love even exists.

"Not interested."

"Awhhh cmon give it a try"

the moment a sound escaped from your mouth he immediately flicked your head

"ouch...."

—

yet despite him not telling you a single thing, you still hadn't given up,

"Nanamii hii !!"

"hm?"

"Sooo you've known sukuna for quite awhile sooo like..."

"hm, what about it?"

"do you know what his type is?"

"...."

the moment the room fell silent you'd look around noticing how everyone just stared at you dumbfoundedly

"wait your serious?..."

"yes...?"

".... how oblivious are you..."

"What is that supposed to mean"

"I'm sure you can figure it out..."

—

Since none was willing to answer you, you just brought matters into your own hands! i mean what better way to look into sukunas past lovers!! maybe it'll help you figure out his preferences,

but oh how wrong you turned out to be...

every woman, even guys... you showed him, he turned down every one of them. how are you supposed to help him find a date if he keeps turning down everyone!

—

You'd be on the rooftop leaning over a railing as you took a puff of your cigarette, eventually, you heard the door behind you open, and when you turned to look who it was, it was no other than sukuna

he stood next to you grabbing out his own pack of cigarettes as he snatched the lighter from your hand and lit his cigarette up while the two of you stared down at the city, admiring the bright lights as the two of you watched in silence

eventually, you decided to speak up,

"how come you keep turning down everyone I set you up with?"

"I told you, I have no interest in them, they don't fit my type"

"See that's the problem! how am I supposed to help if you won't tell me what your type is?"

"i already like someone, so no need"

"what."

"YOU COULD'VE TOLD ME THAT SOONER"

"It's funny messing with you"

"I hate you"

"No, you dont,"

"Tch. whatever. but anyways, who do you even like?"

"You know them,"

"OH OH I KNOW THIS ONE"

with that, he just kept staring at you watching as you named everyone you knew, males included....?

by the time you were done, you were out of breath seeing how you said everything without breathing,

"Okay, so who is it?? I mentioned everyone I know"

"yeah but you didn't mention the person I like"

"I swear if the person you like is yourself..."

"want me to tell you?"

"PLEASE."

"There standing in front of me right now,"

"what? but I'm the one who's standing in front of you??"

"Exactly,"

[⛩️] @: Likes & Reblogs R appreciated! ^^

[chiocchi]

If you don't mind answering, why do you ship Tom Riddle and Harry Potter? Besides the whole issue that they are enemies, and the age difference, both characters are heterosexual. It's canonical fact. If it's the dynamic you like... Have you thought about Tomione's ship? They have a lot of potential together. And in the right direction, they would be a couple that could make it in the books.

JDKLJKLFJSDLKFJA This kinda feels like people knocking on your door and trying to get you to believe in their religion. It's pretty funny.

I don't know why are you calling issues to a part of the pairing's appeal lkajdsjfs (And Hermione is Harry's age and they are on the same side too?). And not sure about that canonical fact. Harry can be read as bisexual quite easily and Voldemort|Tom... idk he seems more obsessed with power, immortality, and Harry. But even if that's the case, I don't see why it should matter. We're in fandom after all.

I don't know if I'll be able to convey why I like this ship so much. For starters, I'm really into the unique connection they share. There was a piece of Voldemort's soul inside Harry's; they had a mental link; a whole language they're the only ones to speak (for the most part); Voldemort chose him and marked him; and there's even a prophecy that linked them together. There aren't two people more connected than them. They're soulmates, and the fact that Voldemort didn't intend it and Harry hates it adds another layer of complexity.

But not only that, they're like a broken reflection of each other, which I find fascinating. In his second year, Harry was worried about the similarities between them. Both half-bloods, orphans, raised by Muggles, they both considered Hogwarts their first real home. I feel like they would have really understood each other in other circumstances. They would have been friends. Because one of their key differences is that Harry found friends and adults that loved him while Tom was probably bullied and, y'know, the whole Dumbledore thing.

Not to mention that Harry would die for everyone whereas Tom would kill everyone. They're insane in their own way. I love their similarities and differences, but more than anything else, I love when they're together. The fanfics and fanarts are awesome.

And the whole thing of being enemies feels quite gay sometimes klafjdlskfja. Harry can't help but think Tom is handsome and, despite everything Voldemort did, Harry wanted to give him one last chance to show remorse. I have no doubt Harry is crazy enough to actually forgive him.

I've thought about Tomione and I've come to the conclusion that I don't like it. pinktom has a really good post about it and I agree with it. Besides, Hermione liked Ron and had something with Krum, and they're nothing like Tom. Just because she's heterosexual doesn't mean she's attracted to any man, y'know? klajdlfkdjs I don't think they would have been a couple in the books, no matter the direction. If it's the dynamic you like, have you thought about Tomarry? More believable, more intense, and a wider range of wholesomeness to fucked up in the fics. It's really interesting. Unless you don't like men being together? Hmm? Suspicious (just kidding. To each their own. So no need to go to other people's asks to try to change their minds :kek:).

Also Harry is my favorite character and he's not replaceable. I kinda don't care about any other character tbh. Thank you for coming to my Ted talk.

[tinydeskwriter]

Hi! Can you write something with Carlos? After yesterday's events... I need to read something to cope, idk☹️☹️

You're Carlos Fucking Sainz

A/n: this is just a little something, a domestic moment after the bombastic news, Y/n trying to be there for her man. I was so sad for Carlos, I think this is the cuntiest Ferrari move ever, it's sure to make things unconfortable this season. It's not something particulartly big or elaborate, because I wasn't sure what you wanted, but I hope you like.

“Amore,” the Spaniard is surprised to hear the soft voice calling him, blocking his cell phone screen and placing it on the coffee table, turning to his girlfriend standing in the doorway.

Y/n arrived in Madrid three hours after the news was posted and a fifteen-minute call with her boyfriend left her heartbroken. She was lucky to have an extensive network and such a competent PA who managed to get her on a flight back home in record time—even if that meant she had to travel coach from Milan.

“Carinõ, what are you doing here?" The man got up and approached his girlfriend, kissing her lightly before pulling away to look at her, “I thought you weren't coming back from Milan until tomorrow."

“Aren't you happy to see me?" She tilts her head slightly and wrinkles her nose in the way she knows Carlos finds her irresistibly adorable.

“I'm always happy to see you." The words are genuine, but the smile is forced.

“I told the girls that my extremely hot and talented boyfriend needed me more than they did." Y/n wraps her arms around the older man's muscular neck.

“Not so talented apparently…” The woman's smile disappears when she sees his crestfallen expression and deprecatory tone when talking about himself. “They warned me ten minutes before the announcement went up.”

Y/n took her boyfriend's face in her hand, forcing him to look at her. Determination evident in her eyes.

“Carlos, bebé, you are amazing, never think otherwise, you are no less than Charles," she says seriously, “it's their loss, go after what you want my love, any team would be lucky to have you, Ferrari you've only been building tractors for years, you did your best, Hamilton will have the most disappointing end to his career there, and half the experts doubt that Charles will win the title racing for Ferrari."

“I'm going to be without a team in 2025..." the Spaniard says, moving away from his girlfriend, towards the large couch they choose together months before—his house was a true bachelor pad before she moved in, and it took some effort and gentle persuasion for her to convince her very headstrong man to allow her to change around.

Sitting on the huge, velvety blue sofa, with his arms crossed and beaked, his head thrown on the back and his eyes closed, he would look downright pathetic if he weren't so handsome—and if she didn’t love him so much.

At least for today, she wants to make him feel better, tomorrow and beyond, they take it one day at a time. Y/n sighs. She hates when Carlos is hard on himself, especially over a situation he has little to no control.

She takes off her own dress, leaving it pooling down the living room floor, in only a white lace G-string she sits on the man's lap, uncrossing his arms and placing his big hands on her ass. She laughs when Carlos immediately opens his eyes, staring at the pair of breasts in front of him with desire—she knows it's a low blow, but she just wants to see him a little more himself, sex won’t solve anything, but it will definitely take him out of his shell.

“Bebé, you are Carlos fucking Sainz,” she tangles her fingers through his dark strands, “fuck Ferrari, fuck Fred, fuck Charles and fuck Hamilton, show them all who you are, be your cuntiest self, ignore their bullshit strategy and their fucking favouritism, race for you, follow your instincts and get out of that tractor factory with a bang.” She kisses him deeply, biting his lips.

[horrorshow]

Can you talk about why you think blocking and moving on is a bad thing? I thought it was a way to curate your space and avoid drama

idk maybe i'm too idealistic but fandom is a much more friendlier, welcoming, supportive, creative, engaging, active, diverse and interesting space when it's treated like a community where people are encouraged to participate and talk about their interests and where there's space for niche or more unpopular opinions without these people having to worry about being blocked and feel unwelcome by the majority of the fandom they are in. i can't stand how blocking everyone you disagree with has become the first thing to do.

you say its 'to curate your experience'. but blocking people does not only curate YOUR experience. you're also forcefully curating other users' experiences. and not for the better.

people say 'i will block you for literally anything' and then those same people wonder why engagement is down, why no one sends asks, why no one reblogs, why rarely anyone talks in the tags anymore and why this place feels so dead and boring and quiet. i wonder why!!!!

people treat real people as annoying ads they can dispose of at their whim. but that's not how a fandom or a site like tumblr works. (besides, if you really care about people curating their own experience you wouldn't block people. you can filter and blacklist and never see them again while still granting them the same freedom instead of actively making their experience worse.)

you say its to avoid drama. but seeing a post you dont agree with is not 'drama'. and blocking is not solving anything except for you personally. fandom was more fun when we remembered that every user is a real person you share a space with, and probably some mutuals as well, so you find a way to live with each other. starting with a restraining order seems a bit excessive and is not contributing to anything. it's not that hard to be respectful and tolerate others and acknowledge people have different opinions and interests and still co-exist in peace. its not that hard to be nice to people and try to find common ground with them and interact with the stuff you DO like. you do this in every aspect of your real life, so why not online?

i hear you say: 'but that requires WORK and i don't NEED to do any of that bc i can just block them'.

yeah, you can try to create your own bubble and only hang out with like minded people but you wont EVER fully achieve that (no matter how much you block, social media WILL keep feeding you posts you disagree with bc it makes them money). social media WILL pressure you into an 'us vs. them' mentality where you constantly feel like everything online is a threat or an argument you have to win and where being mean and unnuanced gives you the most notes and where you don't even see, let alone be able to treat, other users as people anymore bc you don't interact with them anymore other than to block or fight them. that's not how i want it to be online. it's not fun to me. and maybe i'm a pessimist but i think it will eventually be the death of online fandom and sites like tumblr. look at the state of twitter right now. DOES blocking give you a better experience in the long run? i doubt that it does. overall, i think it makes people even less tolerable and more vulnerable to hate and fear mongering, and social media an even more hostile place.

it's everything i hate about social media and everything i want to fight against and WILL fight against. i won't pretend my meager contribution will change anything, but i LIKE to just scroll past posts i don't vibe with and not see every argument online as a personal offense. it keeps me curious. most posts aren't that bad when you know the person behind it. i mean, you do you, i'm not gonna say what you should or shouldn't do bc that's up to you, but i recommend it: free yourself of the block button and bring back supportive user communities based on a shared love for the same thing and focus on what you have in common with people, just like you would do in real life. save the block button for the rotten apples who DO keep trying to pick fights and exclude others.

(which is, now that i think about it, probably the main difference: most people see the block button as a neutral way to prevent worse. but. that's only the case on an individual level. and treating everything online as an individual choice to which there are no further consequences, especially if they happen on a larger scale, is already a loss.)

[sakuraryomen01]

I'm horny so I'm writing about my thoughts.

warnings: nsfw, fem reader, mdni, blowjobs, sex in different positions, some size kinks, nipple play, possible breeding, man handling if u squint

words: idk I didn't count but it's a lot

ft:: yuji, kuroo, bokuto, and sukuna

Yuji Itadori🐅

He's been brain rotting for a while and it's annoying how much I think about him, but I love him too much to make him move out.

I love thinking about how heavy his cock must get when he's hard, and ready to come. It'd probably tilt with a thick vein pulsing along the underside so it makes him × 10 more sensitive when you suck him off. He's probably not super long like kuroo would be, but he'd definitely be on the thicker side.

I wouldn't be surprised if he turned out to be ashamed about being average, but I'm drooling over that stretch baby boy dw 🤤💞

He'd definitely taste.. interesting. I don't see him tasting super sweet like gojo or something, I see him tasting like a savory meal if that makes any sense?

Something like a meal you'd never want to forget or finish early. If yk what I mean, ty. 🙏

He'd definitely try and be gentle during sex and hand/blowjobs. Yuji knows he's a strong boy so being careful of his grip and thrusts is something he has anxiety about often. When he's close though, he'll be in cloud nine and forget what he's doing.

Bucking his hips while his thighs tense and practically vibrate as his climax nears. Praising him is such a great way to tell him "I'm okay" even though his cum's covering your face and lips.

Different positions he loves: doggy, reverse cowgirl, and missionary

While Yuji does think that your sex life needs lots of spice, he's really willing to do whatever it takes to make you cum! He loves the simple things, but watching you masturbate in front of him gets him drooling and hard.

Kuroo Tetsuro🐈‍⬛

He definitely makes me want to scream daddy at the top of my lungs but then want to cuddle him and kiss his forehead for hours while reading my favorite book or watching a horror movie.

Daddy? I'm sorry. Daddy? I'm sorry.

I get the vibe from kuroo that he lives to eat pussy to relieve his own stress.

Work getting too much? Eat pussy. Staying up too late fucking? Eat pussy + the cream pie. He'd like a girl that'd know how to edge and tease him, even though he'd flat out deny this.

He'd feel hot and heavy over constant teasing remarks or suggestive compliments. Offering a massage during a game would also make him want to kiss you and cuddle you for hours.

Kuroo loves spice.

He'll bring in some kind of toy like a vibrator or ask to fuck on the couch instead of in the bedroom.

(I wouldn't doubt he'd try role-playing.)

Kuroo's just above average with a slimmer cock, but it's big no matter how you put it. He's probably not a sweets guy, but I'd end up making him something like strawberries to make him taste like candy.

Kuroo himself probably tastes like bokuto and yuji since all of them are incredibly athletic and active in their daily lives. He's not ashamed of himself either and probably grooms regularly to keep it "presentable."

Positions and places he adores: the hook, standing doggy, anything that involves a counter

He'd probably try doing role plays that involve his job or his past. Like, volleyball coach fucks captain or something. He's a wildcard tho so I can't say for sure 😃

Bokuto Kōtaru🦉

A owl man that's energy is so contagious and sexy I'd like to eat his ass like a fucking meal— he's the obsession, he's the moment, he's a himbo sweetheart.

Bokuto doesn't hate his ass or his massive man tits, but he doesn't like that they steal the show. We all know that his ass was stolen from a bakery and that those thighs are illegal.

This might, or might not, be an unpopular opinion BUT I would eat his ass any day. I love this man's body sm it's like a plus with his sweet and energetic personality.

He'd be so touchie when it comes to sex, and he probably has a cute nickname for it tbh. He knows that his thighs are a weakness so he'll use them to slick up your pussy and panties while he's busy playing with ur tits and neck.

"feel good baby? Like my tongue?"

Verbal, loud, fast, and rough.

Bokutos strength shines through when the bed's creaking, your ass is jiggling beautifully on his pelvis, and your screams are nothing short of gorgeous. Bokuto loves to use your tits and hips as his personal love handles.

Massive calloused palms that are rough to the touch but feel amazing rubbing and flicking at your nipples.

His moans r loud but so hot. He'll also chuckle in a low tone if you cum more than once around his cock in the first round. (I would, I have.)

Positions? Yes: doggy, missionary, against the wall, in his lap, mating press

His cock is a proud 8 with a thickness that makes u think he stole a muffin or two to feed it. Damn does that stretch hurt but it sounds really good in your pussy!!!

Sukuna Ryomen😈

A devil in life, a devil in the sheets. He'll break your back and break you in one sitting but torture you with his many tongues. It's funny to think about Sukuna being disappointed when he first reincarnates since he doesn't have those swoll coc—

Sukuna is so wild during sex it's like a ride of its own. I'm basing this more on how he is in the manga and anime rather than a romantic version. So, let's begin shall we? ^^

Lord Ryomen does love a little challenge even though it thoroughly annoys him. Having a woman that's fully submissive for him and only him but will get on his nerves regularly makes him want to make sure you know your place over and over.

What better way than to fuck you with his monster cock(s)?

The Vessel version of him is definitely rougher than the true form. True form is bigger, but has a little patience in my opinion. Vessel version has none and since he only has one, he'll make another just to punish you.

My own personal favorite part of Sukuna isn't the tattoos, surprise surprise! I love them fucking biceps and that face. Both true form and vessel.

Tracing my fingers along them as a past time yes, but I'll be holding onto those arms for dear life while burning his face into my brain. Seeing how his eyes will shine while forcing my pussy to accommodate him.

Positions or mild suggestions?: Anything that allows him to fuck your pussy(and asshole let's be honest), does enjoy a show so maybe cowgirl, cuddle fucking when he's lazy or tired

His cock(s) have a powerful taste seeing as he's a cursed spirit rather than a normal human. I doubt he'll taste any better than what it normally tastes like, but I'd still suck it like my life depends on it 😭

Sukuna doesn't have an official size in his vessel for seeing as he can just change it to what he wants. But in true form, he is definitely over 8 inches and thicker than anything.

Take a Coke 2 liter bottle and imagine Sukuna's cocks. That's probably about accurate.

Loved writing for my favorite boys, and I honestly loved imagining them. I'm tagging some ppl I think would enjoy this, but if you want to be removed for any reason pls lmk!!❤️

Tags: @yuujispinkhair, @xxnghtclls

[jianhue]

Information about William !! (Moral Orel oc)

Stuff you should know !

1. My English is HORRIBLE. I don't have the greatest vocabulary so most of my sentences are repetitive

2. His information might change over time.

3. Uhh idk if this needs any warning but there is some topics about trauma and stuff so watch out for that

4. This is written informally lol

5. I made this around midnight, there's some mistakes

Text form:

Basic information:

Name: William Boltspin

Age: 36

Occupation: Psychologist

Height: 5’11

Habits: over analysing people’s small gestures, thinking out loud, tripping on nothing when nervous, fidgeting, freezing when in put into a tight spot

Hobbies: Reading, watching stuff go down

Introduction:

Will is introduced as a new person in town. He recently moved in, and since nobody was willing to show him around, Orel did. But in a typical Moral Orel episode, something happens. In the good will of Orel, he shared a little too much. This kind of scared Will out, but he still stayed in the town. Mostly because he was fascinated by how the town was old-school. At first, he got along with the townspeople, but they soon realised they had different principles and ideals.

Seeing how he wasn't really attending the daily sermons, Orel took it upon himself to invite him to church. Will isn't really the type to go to church daily, but seeing how everyone was going and how eager Orel was to get him to attend the sermons, he started attending daily too. After an episode focusing on his move, he became a typical side character, only showing up on screen for a few scenes or just in the background.

Show appearances:

During season 1, aside from his little worries and complaints about the children in town having too much freedom, Will is seen acting fairly normal. He's been seen in church, walking to the doctor’s office, etc. Most of his appearance is just him passing by; sometimes he gives out advice that is a bit too vague.

In season 2, his concerns grow, and he starts to disagree with some of the other characters. He doesn’t get along with Reverend Putty much, but he does tolerate him. Will offers to babysit some of the children, mostly doughy or shapey. It’s mostly because he sees signs of neglect. Unfortunately, he does have work of his own, so he isn’t always there for them.

Upon learning about his profession, some started to doubt his faith. He still attends church even with people talking about him, and his only reason is because of Orel. Will does try to correct the behaviour of some people, but when he gets a bad response (which happens every time), he takes it back. Sometimes, mostly by accident, he does the same thing he criticises people for. Telling people not to yell in front of children or to not show any bad behaviour they can pick up.

He still bonds and gives some proper advice to Orel, but makes sure to keep him at arm's length. He’s afraid of being dragged into the things Orel does. But in an episode, he finally had the courage to join Orel. He follows him around and secretly does things so they avoid trouble. But of course, trouble does happen. Before Orel was taken to Clay’s study room, they made eye contact. Will felt responsible since he was an adult and he was around Orel the whole time. Even though he felt immense guilt, he was still too afraid to intervene. He mouthed the words “I’m sorry, Orel.” In the end, he became a bystander. Something he wished he never would be.

Season 3 is where Will’s mental health starts to deteriorate. He feels guilty for being so hypocritical. Feeling responsible for kids he isn’t even related to has taken a toll on him. Other adults also started to vent out their problems to him at the bar, hoping for some advice from Will.

His last scene is Orel finding him sitting at an alley next to Forghetty’s Bar. Will was drunk and cried to Orel about everything he hated, even calling Clay a bastard right in front of him. After that furious rant he calmed down and started muttering about how he “didn’t want to be like this” and that he’s sorry for being such a horrible person, a bystander, a hypocrite, a coward, a person he can’t rely on. He picks up his glasses and apologises before realising who he was dumping all his problems to. It was Orel. A child. He remembers his promise to himself, never burden a child with your problems. Not even as an accident. Not knowing what to do, he just froze and cried.

After that scene, Will would be seen avoiding children. He’s seen more often in the bar, mostly in the background or puking at the corner.

Upbringing:

As a kid, Will would be told to turn a blind eye to things that were not his business. Around his teenage years, he would witness a violent crime, but instead of helping, he just pretended he didn’t see anything and walked away. The person would later be found dead. Will couldn’t take it; he felt extreme guilt, blaming himself for not saving them or even just calling the police.

His mother also had violent outbursts, venting her problems to her son. He felt responsible for her, so he just took everything. Beatings, berating, everything. Will basically took care of her. His mother was a very judgmental woman, whispering to him about people around his neighbourhood. Will gaslights himself to think that it’s just his mother’s way of showing concern and affection. When he finished college, his mother passed away. He never actually bothered to find his father because his mother told him, “It’s not worth finding that bastard of a man." Will just followed what his mother said. But in the end, his own mother’s last words were, “I fucking hate that face of yours. You’re a spitting image of that fucking bastard.”

He already knew his mother actually hated him. He just denied it. But hearing it straight from her just made him lose it. Will swore to never treat a child like his mother did to him.

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

Idk if you write angst or not, but...

I was thinking about this nonstop and I had to request it.

So, Female Y/N and Kazutora are in the same class (first year highschool maybe) and they both are always coming into class with bruises.

Everybody is worried for Yn, thinking shes being abused at home, when, in reality, shes actually just super clumsy. Also, everybody thinks that Kazutora always gets into street fights, which he does, but that's not the actual reason behind his bruises, it's his father.

Then, one day, yn and Kazu are assigned cleaning duty after school, and as they're cleaning up, kazutora inquires about yn's bruises, wanting to know if there is somebody else out there also being abused.

They become friends, and as they get closer to each other, Kazutora starts to open up more to her, and ends up telling her about his home life.

I'm imagining their relationship more as platonic love. yknow, like besties.

sorry if this is too specific but I really needed to get it out of my head!!

I really love your head, your brain and your idea because I miss writing platonic loves!

Bruises.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Many people think that clumsy people are cute, aesthetically at least, but I doubt they'd think that if they saw them constantly being bruised.

Be it tripping over something, falling down from trees, crashing with something while riding a bike, falling down the stairs and etc, you have experienced all of them in less than a month.

You were just....adventurous, that's all. You took the risks despite knowing you'd get hurt. Your family might think that you're masochist for this but that's wrong. Taking risks are exciting. When you can't feel anything because of the adrenaline, when your blood grows hot and heart beats faster than ever before, it's so exciting. So you do try a lot of things and maybe would be unstoppable in them if you weren't cursed with clumsiness.

Everyone is clumsy in one way or another, but yours is a bit concerning...Considering the fact that you literally choke on water when drinking it.

How amazing.

You hated bruises. They're ugly as hell and sometimes very disturbing to look at. But whenever you would glance at your body, you'd notice more amount of bruises than your own skin.

It's disturbing, you agree. It's concerning, that's true. Maybe that's why your classmates are giving you pitiful and concerned looks when they'd accidentally see your bruises, which you try to cover up.

"Why do you have so many bruises, [name]..?" Your seatmate asked you, hesitating and debating whether he should ask you about it or not.

You smiled at him, unaware of the reason behind this question. "You know how clumsy I am." It was simple answer, true even, but he didn't look convinced at all.

You two were oblivious to the boy sitting right behind you. He had black hair with some of his locks dyed blonde, his yellow eyes settled on your figure. His face was slightly bandaged and he, also, got bruises but it didn't look like anything serious, probably from fistfight.

Or so they all thought...

"Kazutora-kun, [name]-chan, you two are on cleaning duty today." The teacher informed right after her lesson was over. Frown formed up on Kazutora's face, probably because he obviously had better things to do than cleaning the classroom. But he didn't object.

Everyone left, leaving you two alone. The awkward silence screamed in the room, drowning every single thing you tried to say to kill the awkward in its own void. You two weren't close, not even friends. You knew nothing about him except the rumours that has been going on and on about him.

Of course, you weren't the type to believe every single rumour or judge someone because of them, hence you had no opinion on him. He didn't look like a bad guy and he was very pretty, plus his tattoo looks cool. That's all.

Both of you were doing your cleaning duties quietly, until the boy decided to break the silence. "That's pretty bad bruise."

You turned around to look at him, only to meet his back. He was cleaning the desk with his back facing you. "I fell down. Hard." You said truthfully, it's not like you had anything to hide.

"..Can you really get such bruise from falling down?" Kazutora asked yet again, as if trying to hint at something else but you couldn't exactly put a finger on what.

"Well, I was skating with my skateboard and fell really badly. So that's how I got it." You shrugged your shoulders, continuing to clean the board.

Kazutora stopped what he was doing and finally turned to you, eyeing your figure up and down before turning his back to you again with "Is that so.."

"What about you? What happened to your face?"

He stopped in his tracks, his hand clenching the wetpaper hard. "I got into fight with some assholes."

"Oh.." was all you said.

The silence fell between you two again and not wanting to be in the same extremely awkward situation with him again, you said the first thing that came to your mind. "They aren't bullying you, are they?"

Kazutora turned to face you, he was kind of confused before he started laughing. You stopped cleaning the board, wondering if what you said was funny. "bully me? I meant that they just pissed me off so I beat them up."

"O-Oh so you're bully!" You stated as if you just discovered the golden chest six feet under.

"Bully, hm? I wouldn't call myself that." He said, moving to the next desk. "Maybe I am, kind of. But only to those who deserve it."

One thing that you learned about him is to never ever piss him off, or you might as well return to home with broken jaw. Just the thought of it send chills down your spine. You turned around to clean the board again and despite wanting to say nothing, your mouth couldn't stop spilling the words out. "I don't think anyone deserves to be bullied." Kazutora turned to you again but now you were the one who wasn't looking at him. "Imagine how worried their parents must be. Seeing your kid all beat up, every parent would be worried for their child's safety."

"Every parent my ass..." He mumbles under his breath, low enough for you to not hear.

"What?"

"Nothing." He shrugged. "But not every kid has parents and if they do, they might not be all caring at all you know...Even if they're, it's not my problem."

"Still, no one deserves to be bullied. It affects them badly." You said.

"If they're willing to be delinquents, then they must except something such as that."

"You're delinquent..?"

"Huh? You didn't know?" He raised his eyebrow. "Everyone talks about how I went to juvie."

"I don't trust the rumours..." Finally, finish cleaning the board, you looked at him. "Isn't this heavy topic for you tho?"

"I have nothing to hide." Kazutora shrugged. It's true that he had nothing to hide, after all there were so many rumours going around the school about his arrest, he's sure people even made stories up about him so it was one of the famous topic to gossip about in the school.

"Even so, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I mean, we aren't even friends so, I shouldn't be asking too much questions." You scratched your head in embarrassment. What right did you have ask about such personal stuff? You two aren't even friends so it must have been uncomfortable.

"As I said, I've nothing to hide. And you're just curious." He shrugged off with a smile. His smile was too kind for someone who has been in the juvie.

"...I don't think you're a bad guy." You truthfully said. His eyes widen but he was fast to regain his composure. "Well not as bad as rumours say at least. In fact, I'd like to be your friend, if that's okey with you."

After moment of silence, Kazutora managed to mutter "sure" with ghost smile on his lips.

He probably thought that he wouldn't get any closer to you at that time, he probably thought that you just wanted something from gim, hence why he was trying to find out what but miserably failed, he probably thought that you would leave him on your own before he even would manage to get attached to you. He probably thought that, but he was wrong. Oh, he was horribly wrong and the current situation was the proof of that, him venting to you, telling you why he can't go back to his house and you letting him stay at your place and even offering him comfort.

Yeah, he hasn't fought anyone at that time, 4 months ago. He didn't got those bruises because of strangers but because of his own father, a person he was supposed to be safe with. That man was more cruel than a beast. Even juvenile hall was safer than his own home. And that killed you inside, wishing you could help him with something more but you were kid too..

Kazutora hated seeing happy families, but he started crying when he saw yours, because he truly, for once, felt like he was at home.

[bozepomagaj]

ATINY/MOA/CARATS vs Made in Abyss was the last thing I expected and its hilarious

feel like I need to say something since twitter absolutely loves spreading misinfo and just accusing people of shit, how have you people not LEARNED your lesson yet? Since when is twitter such a trusted source, especially gossip accounts?

And before you braindead stans start calling me a d!ckrider, I promise you I do not care about these men cuz I've got better things to focus on and I'm making this because people are overreacting and it's getting annoying. It's so obvious 90% of you haven't watched the anime (and thats completely fine, I get you) and then ended up listening to someone who made stuff up and overexaggerated. I'm not here to defend the author because I hate him as much as you do and can absolutely recognize the dude is into some weird shit but saying people are ONLY interested in this series because of r@pe and p€dophilia is INSANE. So let me answer some questions as a Made an Abyss reader (not calling myself a fan because you'll catch me DEAD before you see me buying any merch or manga despite my love for the series), kpop fan second.

Does Made In Abyss contain p3d0ph1l1c themes, gore etc.?

There absolutely is because the author is a creep (refering to the nsfw however, most of the times it's very easily skippable. As someone who hates l0l1con cuz it creeps me out, I can tell you that I really didn't have a hard time skipping said scenes even in the manga which is far more explicit than the anime (Prushka asking about Bond's 'stick', Faputa looking into Regs pants, Vueko's weird comments) and sometimes, they're even added as extras (0.5 chapters) which certain sites that contain scans don't even include. I didn't even know about the existence about a few of these chapters BECAUSE they don't include them.

The OVA is a nightmare to watch and was not only unfunny but creepy as fuck especially when they try to boil down such an amazing character like Ozen into 'I like seeing little kids in pain'. Now I have no idea if this was made independently but I don't remember the author making any spin-offs that they could base this on so I can't tell you who wrote it but even then I doubt that the author minded it since the man himself had to include that Faputas behind smells like the 'Sun' so again, not here to defend him cuz he most definitely is a weirdo, no doubt about it.

Is Made in Abyss torture p*rn?

If MiA is torture p*rn then AoT is military propaganda and supports child labor, TPN is also torture p*rn, JJK promotes violence, Berserk excuses r*pe and Evangelion is also p*do bait. See how stupid that sounds? Just because an anime INCLUDES something, does not mean it necessarily supports it. Yes, r*pe is mentioned but it's not even SHOWN, and it's a cruical part of a characters backstory. The torture that happens, happens only once if we exclude Riko's 'experiment' at the very beginning of the manga. And Mitty's transformation can't even be classified as torture cuz it's a.... transformation. Prushka's death is very censored so its not like you can jack off to that anyways. Now the piss thing is something I have noticed but haven't really payed attention it because bffr why the hell would I so idk, maybe the author is trying to tell us something or the guy thinks pee pee poo poo funny🤷‍♀️.

Is there any plot besides the weird stuff?

See now this is the part that gets me most because the reason why a majority of people nowadays got into MiA in the first place is BECAUSE of the amazing plot. The world building, the mystery, the fight scenes, etc. It's amazingly drawn, nicely paced and unique in its own way. But of course, it's manga&anime and what's anime without fanservice? I already explained that in manga, said scenes can be easily skipped and the anime thankfully doesn't include a lot of these. I do have to admit thag I dropped the manga for now since the chapter where they were in a bath cuz it was another one of those 'here we go again' moments where it made me roll my eyes and just close the tab so I don't really know what's been happening recently and if things go weirder.

I'm also gonna tell you honestly that yes, the fandom is filled with sweaty dudebros itching to see these kids half naked and the author is aware of them and pondering to them because he too is one of them. But a large majority is back from when the anime originally came out and are mostly hiding on twitter so it's easy to avoid them and they've been pretty rare ever since people with actual interest in the series have begun watching it. A reason why back in the day I didn't wanna interact with the fandom at ALL was because the moment I tried to have a normal conversation about the plot and what might actually be going on, I instead get bombarded with "UWAAAA😭😭😭" and 'c*nny' comments. I also cannot defend and don't even plan on defending the fact that Faputa is pretty much naked the entire series. I get that she lives in the literal wilderness, but the very least you could do is put a cloth on her y'know. And mind you, I'm talking about the manga. The anime is a LOT more heavily censored, and from what I heard, even MORE censored in Korea.

To sum it up:

Do I think Mingi/Soobin/Woozi are p*dos cuz they watched the anime? Absolutely the fuck not. Considering Mingi is a big CSM fan, I can see why he watched Made in Abyss because I was in that same pipeline. I think some of you are going way too far with these comments, if you wanna call them weird, creepy, wanna unstan them for reading stuff like this go ahead, not gonna stop because in the end no one can but accusing people of crimes isn't funny and never will be. If they were exposed for watching shit like Kodomo no Jikan then that most definitely IS eyebrow raising. Maybe I'm slightly biased due to me only enjoying MiA for the plot so seeing people say the fans are p3d0s when the first time I watched this was when I was freshly 15.... yeah idk abt that one. Whether they liked the weird and questionable scenes, I have zero idea I'm just here to say that you can enjoy said anime without being a weirdo and you shouldn't begin jumping to conclusions and start calling people straight up criminals. If anyone wants to have a productive conversation and ask questions abt said anime cuz I doubt you're gonna go watch an anime over a Twitter drama, go ahead and ask. If you wanna insult me and call me a d!ckrider then go ahead and do that too, who am I to stop you?