#if even a single one of you reblog this i will literally go gather the goat man from my local wooded area and tell him about u.

[heirbane]

FIMBULVETR: TERNCLIFF'S TERMINUS.

aka: give us a wrap up for werlyt, squex.

Terncliff had been on the cusp of desperation several times before Endwalker. First, when they believed Gaius van Baelsar came to colonize and eradicate the culture and heritage that the cliffside port had cultivated; second, when his towering form disappeared from the area all together, leaving tints of Garlean occupation without the promise of industry and technology. The magitek units had come, providing the men and women with goods and services beyond any they would have been able to harness on their remote stretch of Ilsabard, and then simply disappeared, leaving infrastructure half-built and their people without the skills to finish it on their own.

When Valens van Varro began to encroach upon Werlytan territory, they had well and truly believed it to be the final chapter for their people. Valens pushed forth magitek reapers, shattering windows and crumbling brickwork with ease. He had been the Imperial officer they truly had expected when Gaius came to their shores over a dozen summers prior.

Valens was the shadow they had feared, and the depths of his depravity saw no end, as violent and unpredictable as the waves against its jagged, rocky cliff side. He had come simply to beckon the wolf out of hiding, the greying hound's children puppeteered by their loyalty.

The strings that bound them to the Empire would gather around their throats, a noose made of good intentions and false hope, and one by one the Imperial Legatus strung them up and let them rot.

Gaius had nothing to bury but broken machinery and the echoes of children at war. When the Warrior of Light finally helped him seek solace for all that Valens had done, he felt as if there was just as little left of himself, too.

It came as a surprise, then, when the sky began to fall, that neither Gaius nor his remaining child turned into their own fear and uncertainty. As the remaining villagers began to transform, skin and bone into decay and death, he and his daughter remained.

What was the end of the world to those who had lost all but each other?

The blasphemy that haunts the forestry around Terncliff screams one night, a sound half torturous and half inhumane, a vicious, guttural laughter that those who encountered Valens van Varro could never forget.

It is dubbed Fimbulvetr. It is a beast not to be ignored, a beast borne of a boy who had his orphanage ravaged by Valens' mechanical soldiers. He had lived through certain death once, and when the sky began to turn red, his peers collapsing into frothing, soot-bleeding things, he believed the worst days of his life were returning. He had fled into the woods, running for his life, until - under the full red moon - he came across the skeletal remains of the Diamond Weapon.

Fimbulvetr towers past the trees. They are part machine and part person, as if it had simply began gathering up the scrapheap remains of a Garlean occupation. When not cowering among the foliage by daylight, they are calling out for whoever can hear them, mimicked laughter and scared sobbing on an endless loop.

With little and less experience in combat and the inability to put down a child the settlement had once known and cared for, panic and unrest becomes palpable. Even if those in Terncliff got aid from others in Werlyt, they were farmers and fishmongers - few had ever involved themselves in conflict by choice.

And so it fell to the man who had seen his own children laid to rest. The man that had slaughtered nine throne usurpers. The man who had extended an olive branch on the Empire's behalf over a decade before and now resided, desolate and alone, at the outskirts of town, still trying to pull the gristly remains of his existence from the broken corpse the Empire had left behind.

He had led before. He would do it again - just once more.

In the ensuing conflict between Fimbulvetr and their cobbled together militia, Gaius cuts down yet another malady of nature. Their wounds weep blood-tinged ceruleum: flesh carves away to steel innards. They laugh. They laugh. They laugh, sick and familiar.

Until they don't, and it is just a boy begging as he had less than a handful of summers before: Don't hurt me. Don't hurt me. Please.

When Gaius awakes, the sky is blue and the moon is silver and full, shadowed by the sun. In the moment he had hesitated, a father looking at a son begging to be put out of his misery, the beast had lunged.

He is told the Warrior of Light appeared. He is told the machina melted into boy and then into soot and ash, that - finally, finally - nothing remained of the Weapons in the cliff side.

When he awakens, it is the middle of the night. Allie is asleep at his side. Severa and Valdeaulin are snoring in chairs brought from his sitting room. There are flowers on his kitchen table and meals in his Garlean icebox.

He is glad to be alive.

Once he recovers and is able to walk again, he adds the boys name to their memorial, etched below the name of his own children.

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

wildest dreams - m. murdock

a/n: i have literally not been inspired for two weeks then i was STRUCK with the urge to write this. guys. i am so proud of this one i am not even going to lie. this one is dedicated to @bunmurdock because i am literally always thinking about professor murdock.... i really hope you guys enjoy this one, because i enjoyed writing it :) warnings: SMUT! inappropriate dynamic, P in V smut, so much cursing, lots of inappropriate thoughts and pining, power dynamics, dirty talk, reader does an edible and is high for a small part of this fic, reader isn't stupid in this one! she is just horny! she is also deaf, and there is yapping of readers daddy issues word count: 6.3k likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! <3 summary: you have a huge crush on your professor and spend many days desperate for him. pairing: professor!matt murdock x hoh!reader now playing: wildest dreams - taylor swift (taylor's version) "i said, "no one has to know what we do"/his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room"

You could treat him better than any of these other horny grad students.

Seriously, that is your only conscious thought watching this man move around the front of this lecture center. You’re not dumb, you know everyone sitting here wants him—Those who are attracted to men want to fuck him and those who aren’t seek his approval. But you are built different, you’re also lacking a major sense, besides, your brain runs ramped with disgusting thoughts about the man.

Today’s focus is on the man’s outfit. It’s his last class of the day, and it shows. His clothes are a bit more wrinkled, and his hair is messier than it had been when he started the day. But most importantly, his jacket is thrown on the back of his chair, meaning you have a phenomenal view of his torso.

He wears a white button down, with the cuffs of the arms rolled up to just below his elbows, the bottom of the shirt tucked into the waistline of his pants. The shirt is tight, maybe a little too tight, especially around the arms. Maybe it’s because he works out. Or at least, you assume he works out.

That brings us to his tie. Oh, his tie. It’s nothing special—a pure black tie, just hanging from his neck. Your mind wanders. It starts at the dissection of a key court case in the subject of minimum wage, but from there, it starts drifting to his tie.

You think about the tie moving back and forth above you as he thrusts into you, brushing against your face, pulling on it to bring him closer. You think about that soft half chuckle he does, before he says something dirty like—

“Did you have something to add?” His voice right in front of you snaps you out of your trance. Fuck. You were not paying attention.

“Uh, No, Professor..” Your face is a deep red, embarrassed. You wish you could take off your hearing aids to stop listening to all the giggling from around you, from peers who are thrilled that Professor Murdock’s little (not-so) secret admirer got called out for her staring.

“Hm,” he taps the table in front of you, “Then I want you paying attention.” He says, before going back to his lecture. You could die right there. Everyone is laughing at you. He embarrassed you.

Okay, so you have no proof that he’s ever wanted you in the way that you’ve been so god damn desperate for him, but it’s still crushing that he’d single you out in that way. That maybe while you were increasingly needy for him, he found you fucking annoying, in such a way that he felt the need to embarrass you in front of your peers.

You want to melt—Melt into a puddle with just your boots and your hearing aids left behind so you never have to face him ever again. That’s why you’re so relieved when he dismisses class right on time (Well, right on time for him. He always ends class five minutes early to leave room for questions) and you quickly gather your things.

Because of the sheer level of embarrassment he has caused you, the other students in the class who want him try to flock to him, sensing that you no longer have the confidence to engage with him—But your desire is still there, as you messily shove your things into your backpack. You turn when you’re finished, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

Your face is still flushed, part because you’re embarrassed, part because you are out of breath from rushing. But you are faced with the view of your professor, all alone. Your breath hitches when his hand moves up to the top of his tie, as he smooths it out, running his fingers down the fabric.

“I read your essay on the expectations of the courts and law versus the realities of it. I loved it. The argument using Gideon versus Wainwright to justify the existence of the right to counsel as a civil right and not a liberty was fascinating, especially considering your other arguments about how race, class and gender play into those realities. Well done. I thought it was some of your best work.”

Your face is flushed for a new reason now. Wasn’t this the same man who was mad at you for not paying attention?

“I thought so too.” You confess, and he just smiles. He loves that you’re confident in your work. You’ll make a great lawyer one day.

“Oh, and,” He digs through his leather satchel to pull out some notes, running his finger over the folder tab to make sure he has the right folder, “Here are the printed copy of our notes from the last few lectures.” It’s part of your accommodations that professors give you a copy.

“Thanks, Professor.” You smile gently, reaching out to take the papers. Your hands meet and as you grip the notes, the tips of your fingers just barely brush against his. Neither of you say anything. Neither of you let go.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you today.” He starts, “But you’re bright—Smarter than most of your professors, I bet. And I don’t want you to fall behind.” He says softly, and without saying it, you know he’s worried because of your hearing. He was disabled in law school once upon a time, and he recognizes your potential.

“It’s okay.” You say softly, softer than your voice usually is. “I get it, really. It won’t happen again.”

“Good.” He says gently, letting go of the papers now. As you clutch them close to your chest, his hand goes back up to mess with his tie again. Does he know what he’s doing? Does he know how wild it drives you? He must. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“See you on Thursday.” You agree, and that’s when you leave the classroom.

As the door closes behind you, he listens intently. He hears your nervous heartbeat, could practically feel the heat radiating off you. But he knows your routine by now. You’re about to start playing music, and he likes knowing what sort of mood you’re in as you leave his class.

A smile spreads across his face when he hears the opening notes of that new Hozier song, ‘Too Sweet’.

• • •

You are a straight A student. You study days in advance for exams, you write elaborate study guides and most of all, you do not miss class, unless you are dying (no, seriously, the last time you missed class you were rushed to the hospital, sick with pneumonia after a big exam, which you aced). So, when you’re not in Matt’s class on Thursday, he tries not to panic.

You’re a grown woman, he tells himself, and he doesn’t have an attendance policy, having told the class on syllabus day that he trusted them to know when to come to class and when they should go lay in the sun or stay home with a bad cold.

But you once came to class doped up on cold medicine with a mask on, just because you didn’t want to miss any important information. He heard it before you got to class, so he faked a family emergency to cancel class early that day. He could hear your rattled sigh of relief as the other students flooded out.

And he knows for a fact you didn’t show up today because of how fucking loud you are; You don’t mean to be, but he can hear the light buzzing of your hearing aids, and you wear these big work boots that stomp even when you’re trying to step lightly. And he heard neither buzzing nor stomps today.

Oh, your boots. He’s spent years with everything being too loud, but he just can’t help but think about the boots—What color were they? What were their texture? He has this fantasy that lives at the very back of his mind of putting you in heels, heels too big for anyone let alone a girl who only wears clunky work boots, that way he would have to help you, take care of you, and it is a fantasy that will probably live at the back of his mind until he dies.

Sure, he’d probably get married, settle down with someone his age and never worry if she might be dissatisfied with an older man, and she’ll be quiet. No hearing aids, no big boots. They’ll have kids, they’ll be happy together. He’ll still go to you when he can’t sleep, and no one will ever know.

Wait, what was he doing? Oh, right. You weren’t in class today.

His fingers move over the keyboard to look you up in the system. He clicks on the audio assistant to read him your information. It reads out your first and last name, middle initial, then your grade in his class (A+), your accommodations (Notes, time and a half, things like that), your birthday, and—

Wait, he takes a moment, and his fingers go over to his braille calendar, realizing that you’re taking a day off because it’s your birthday. A laugh escapes his lips, because how silly was he being?

His fingers move again to find your email address. He debates for a moment before adding the subject line, “Absence Today.” Then, he erases it and changes it to, “Class Today”, hoping you wouldn’t freak out before reading the email.

And just for a moment, he lets himself dream. He writes the following email to you,

“Hey, sweetheart—

Happy Birthday. I’m so happy you’re taking a break, you deserve it, more than anyone else I know. Are you doing something fun for it? Going out and getting wasted? Hooking up with some college guy who couldn’t fuck you properly?

If I could, my birthday gift to you would be a day spent with my face buried between your pretty thighs, although that might be a birthday gift to me and not to you. I’ve always been a selfish man, and you seem to be something I am entirely selfish about. I want your hands tangled in my hair, tugging on it as I taste you. I want you all to myself. I didn’t hear the buzzing of your hearing aids or the clunking of your boots, and I felt this striking yearning.

I can’t stand being around you without having you. It’s torture.

Happy Birthday,

Matthew.’

He thinks about it for a minute, before completely erasing the email, and sending you this one instead:

‘Missed you in class today! We went over the reading for Chapter Seven. Happy Birthday! Professor M’

He sends it, and then rubs his face, a long sigh leaving his lips. He is completely enamored by you, and it is so unfair.  You’d be in class on Monday, he told himself. He’d see you then, and it would be like getting his fix of you.

Then, he turns to the distraction of trying to grade papers. It won’t work. He’ll still have you on his mind all day, and there will be no relief in sleeping. Hopefully he’ll dream of that long day between your thighs.

• • •

Truth be told, you were not drinking and fucking some random guy when Matt emails you. You were cuddled up in bed, giggling and eating snacks, so many snacks, because, well, you took an edible with a bunch of your friends and now are high out of your mind.

Some animated shows are on in the background, and when your phone buzzes, you pick it up and almost melt when you see the email from your favorite professor. You start giggling like a kid, your fingers clutching your phone as you read the email over and over again.

One friend looks up to you from her place on your floor and asks, “Are you alright?”

You don’t answer at first, but then you nod, and pull your blanket close, imagining Matt’s arms around you. Your brain paints you a picture of him holding you against his chest and gently playing with your hair.

It’s a nice fantasy.

• • •

For being a law student, you really fucking hate it sometimes. Okay, that’s not true. You love being a law student and are so excited to go out into the world and make that difference. But you’d be lying if you don’t sort of contemplate dropping out and getting a sugar daddy over certain assignments.

Maybe Matt is in the market. Then you shake your head to get the thought out of there, before opening your laptop to check your professor’s office hours. The one that assigned this assignment is an old bat who does not have office hours except for during your other classes on Fridays.

Then, you look at Matt’s office hours. He has office hours right now. You click the pen in your hand a few times, thinking. Contemplating. Would he want to see you at this point? Would you be able to control yourself?

You give the question you’re working on one more time before you lean down and grab your boots, starting to lace them up. Then, you pack up your bag, heart beating nervously over what—Asking him for help with an assignment?

You make it all the way across campus, the whole time worried about if you’ll walk in on your professor with some other girl. You almost laugh at that thought, because you think you’re silly for how dramatic you are about the man.

You stand down the hallway from his office for a few minutes, just contemplating. You could just turn around and not at all open the possibility of being around him, and everything stays the same. Nothing changes, and your relationship with your professor maintains it’s strictly professional relationship.

You walk towards the door, knocking on it before holding your breath.

“Come on in,” He calls from behind the door. Now or never. You open the door, and smile in his direction.

“Hey, professor,” You greet, a soft smile on your face. His tie is loose around his neck. You blink away whatever daydream your brain wants to dive headfirst into.

“Hey,” He greets, “I don’t think you have any assignments due, so what’s up?” He asks, tilting his head in your direction. As you think about it, you realize that you do not need help with an assignment.

“This is going to sound like a lie. But I had trouble with this assignment earlier, and suddenly I walked in here and realized I knew exactly what I was doing. I’m sorry for bothering you.” You explain, but you make no attempt to turn around and leave.

“Let me guess,” He starts, gauging by what year and academic proficiency you’re at, “Professor Reid’s estate planning class? That assignment about the will and testament of an old lady with a marriage less than 90 days and estranged kids?”

You groan and take a seat in one of the chairs in his office. He laughs in response, shaking his head.

“That old bat.” You roll your eyes. He just smiles and shakes his head.

“You’ll be fine. Just remember to cheat on your final.” He tells you, and you give him a perplexed look.

“What?”

“Well, for the final, there’ll be a question about a super niche argument on inheritance. Just cheat on it.”

“You’re a professor, telling me to cheat?”

“I cheated on it,” He shrugs. You suddenly remember that he used to go to school here and has taken all the classes you’re struggling with right now.

“You’re being unprofessional.” You tell him, and he smiles again. Your heart skips a beat, and somehow, his smile grows. As if he knows exactly what sort of effect he has on you. As if this is all a game he likes to play with you, his eager and willing participant.

“Okay, forget that I told you to cheat on Reid’s exam. We have to talk about something, it would be awkward to just sit here in silence. Uh, what did you major in in undergrad?”

“English. I minored in Disability studies.”

“So why Law?” He asks curiously, leaning forward and clasping his hands together, before resting them on his desk. Jesus Christ.

“I’m tired of being poor.” The answer slips out before you can really stop yourself. He laughs again, and something in you stirs. As if making him laugh is the newest way you feel good about yourself. How twisted is that? “I’m being serious!” You laugh too, unable to contain it.

“I’m sure,” he promises, “I grew up poor too, I was sick of it too. But if you’re going to be a lawyer—”

“You need to have respect for the law and the people taken advantage by it,” You finish, “I get that, really, I do. And I want to help people. I want to go into divorce law and help all the poor and battered women like—” You’re forgetting yourself. You’re forgetting that this isn’t a date and that this man is your professor.

“Like..?” He prods you to finish, curious. He is on the edge of his seat about you. This is more than he has gotten of you in the past few weeks you’ve been taking his class.

“Like my mom.” You finish suddenly looking for something to do with your hands. Anything, really. “But the check that comes with it isn’t exactly deterring me, you know?”

“I get that,” he says earnestly, “I was an orphan, one of those dirty scrappy ones you feel bad for,” he does that half chuckle that makes you want to go over there and kiss him. “Never knew my mom, and my dad died when I was young. So, I get it. Being poor and wanting to do better for yourself. For your parent who sacrificed for you.”

But it clicks for him, the hidden meaning behind your ambitions. You have daddy issues, and he can tell that’s part of your crush on him. Though, he’ll never say it to you. He’ll let it be something unspoken between the two of you.

“Yeah, I guess you do get it.” You smile softly. But this is dangerous. So so dangerous. The two of you are dancing this dangerous line—Well, more like you’re damn well dancing clear over the line and ignoring it. But you don’t know how to stop it. Maybe you don’t want to stop it.

“Well, uh, maybe you could finish that assignment while we’re here.” He clears his throat, straightening his tie and you try to connect the wires in your brain to focus on the assignment. You pull it out of your bag and place it on his desk, smoothing it out a bit. Matt gets up and starts to wander around the office, and you look at him curiously. “I think better when I can move around.”

You should’ve known that much, you have stared at him doing lectures, wandering from end to end of the rows and rows in the classroom.

“Yeah, totally,” You nod, focusing on the assignment. It’s on paper, the old bat refuses to use online assignments. You’re practically flying through the assignment, and it’s at the point where you are forgetting your company. In fact, you really don’t notice him.. Until you lean back and stretch, jumping when you realize that Matt has taken a spot right behind you, his hands on the arms of your chair, leaning forward. You’re practically leant up against him.

“See? Was that so hard?” Your face flushes, his voice right next to your ear. He has to know; he has to know how you’re affecting him. You tilt your head a bit, and your eyes are level with his chin. His stubble moves as he sets his jaw. He doesn’t smell much like anything… except the faintest hint of clean sheets and this slight scent of mahogany. It would go perfect with a whiff of whiskey.

“No,” you say quietly, and he almost shudders at the feeling of your warm breath against his cheek. “Not at all, Prof—”

“Call me Matt.” It’s almost begging. You’re kind of into it, but that’s not surprising given how incredibly attractive you find him.

“Okay.” You say quietly. He has reduced you to one-word answers. The two of you stay quiet for a while. You’re unsure what to say. Matt is contemplating his options. Anyone could walk in on the two of you like this. The door isn’t locked, and you want to bring this up, but the words die out in your throat. His head tilts a bit towards you, and you get a glimpse at those perfect lips of his.

“You know—” He starts, but before he can get any farther, you lean in and kiss him. You kiss him intensely, your hand on his cheek, and for once, you are not filled with regret at a bad decision. He doesn’t react at first, and for just a second, you’re nervous.

Then, He kisses you back, letting out this deep hum as he deepens the kiss. He tilts his head to get deeper into your mouth, and his hands make their way down to your hips. He focuses for a second, before wrapping his arms around you to pick you up and sitting you on his desk.

His hands trail down as the pair of you kiss, landing on your thighs. His fingers rub back and forth, and you gasp when he squeezes your thighs. He grins and takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your clunky boots hit against his desk and he practically growls at the sound. He pulls away, his teeth biting your bottom lip as he does.

You’re completely out of breath, and so is he. He stumbles back a bit, his lips swollen and bright pink from kissing you. He wipes his mouth as he pants, and inhales deeply. You run your fingers through your hair, brushing the hair that has fallen onto your face.

“We..” he mumbled gently, running his hand over his chin. “Holy shit, kid—”

“Don’t call me kid—”

“Listen,” he goes over to you and brushes the hair from your face, “That was.. it was phenomenal, but someone could’ve walked in on that, and.. Fuck, if we do that again, I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.” he confesses, his hands on your cheeks.

“When I was staring off into space last week, I was thinking about your tie.” You tell him, your hands are finding the base of it now. He tilts his head, curiously.

“What were you thinking about?”

“Was daydreaming about it brushing against my face as you fuck me.” You could swear his face is red. You grin.

“Yeah?” He laughs, taking the tie from you and bringing the tie up to brush against your cheeks, “Like that?” he teases, and you laugh back. Dick.

“Mhm,” You giggle, and your hands find his, wrangling the tie out of his hands, and tugging on it, before bringing him in for another kiss. He inhales deeply as he kisses you, taking the taste of you in for a moment before pulling away.

“I’m serious, sweetheart, this is dangerous.”

“Sweetheart?” You grin. He takes your chin and grips it between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Hey. Pay attention.” He says, and you want to argue that saying things in that low gravely tone will not help you pay attention, but you can tell he’s serious. That he wants your attention focused on him, this is important. “Listen. I like you. I like you a lot, but we have to be careful if we want any of this to go further. We have to be subtle and watch our steps.” He says softly.

“Okay.” You promise, “Okay, we should be careful.” He smiles gently and leans in to kiss your forehead.

“Good pup.” He hums, and your face flushes.

“I like ‘pup’.” You like sweetheart too, but your stomach flips when he calls you pup.

“Yeah, I know you do.” He grins. “Wanna get out of here?”

“I thought you said we have to be careful.”

“Okay, then I’ll give you my address and you can come over.” He shrugs. “I know how badly I need you, I can only imagine how you feel.” He hums, and you grin.

“Okay, Here, give me your phone.” Matt fishes his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you. You put your number in with your name, sending yourself a quick text before handing the phone back to him. “There. Send it to me.” He steps back so you can hop off the desk, before putting your homework back in your bag.

As you sling your bag over your shoulder, he grabs your wrist in his hand and pulls you close, just to kiss you again.

• • •

Your hands are shaking as you drive over to Matt’s apartment. You’re so full of desire for him, and you take a second after parking the car to adjust your hair and makeup. Luckily you had no plans with your friends so it’s not like you’re hiding anything from anyone.

Are you about to sleep with the professor you’ve had a crush on since the beginning of the semester? Hopefully. You take a quick glance down to the apartment number he sent you before climbing out of the car, locking it behind you.

Then, you manage your way through the building, finding yourself in front of his door for the second time tonight. You hesitate. Though, you’re not sure why. Well, maybe you do. Maybe you’re terrified that this is going to be bad. Or maybe that you’re scared you’ll be bad, and he’ll hate you.

Maybe you just need to get over yourself. Although, you can’t really do much more convincing because Matt swings open the door and grins at you. You almost die at the sight of him. His tie is gone, and his shirt is unbuttoned by three buttons.

“You’re so hot,” You blurt out as you hand him a cheap bottle of wine you picked up on the way here.

“You’re cute,” he hums, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the apartment, leaving you giggling as he closes the door behind you. You look around his apartment, your eyes catching on the giant billboard. You’re standing in front of the window when he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. His lips gently kiss your neck, up and down, biting your shoulder gently. “Enamored by the billboard, sweetheart?”

“Your windows are so big, probably a lot of light in here during the day.” You say softly, and he smiles against your neck.

“Mhm, one day, I’ll fuck you against those windows—”

“Matt,” You groan, but he just shushes you and kisses your neck again.

“I know, pup,” He hums, “But don’t worry, I’ll show you a very nice time, hear all those pretty noises you can make for me.” You blush, turning to say something to him but he wraps his arms around your waist again, before throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you to his room. You’re laughing all the way there, before throwing you onto the bed.

“Mean.” You accuse, but he shrugs.

“You’ll get over it, sweetheart, I promise.” He hums, and you sit up on his bed. He stands between your legs, leaning down to kiss you gently, his hands finding your cheeks again. He kisses you like this for a few minutes, before slowly kneeling in front of you, never breaking the increasingly sloppy kiss. You pull away from the kiss to study him. He tilts his head, his hands finding your thighs to rub them again as he did in the office. “What?” he asks gently.

“I spent all those lectures only being able to study you from a far.. Just let me really look at you for a while..” You request. He grins gently as your fingers run over his stubble again. Your hands move up to his glasses. “Can I take these off?” You request, tilting your head.

Matt hesitates, just for a second. He’s not really used to it, to someone truly wanting to see him, every part of him. But he trusts you, wants you to see him. So he nods, letting out a soft ‘yeah’ as you pull off those circular red glasses, gently folding them and setting them down somewhere safe.

Then, you take a good, long look at his eyes. They’re this deep brown, almost black, irises that are drop dead gorgeous. The skin around his eyes is scarred, but the scars are old, yet, you rub your thumb gently against that scarred skin. You lean in and press a kiss to the corner of his eyes, first the left one, then the right one.

He leans up and kisses you after that, his hands slowly making their way down your legs. Your hands find his buttons of his shirt starting to undo them. He pulls away from the kiss, before slipping off his button up, throwing it away somewhere in the room. Your eyes drift down to these scars on his collarbones, and your fingers run over them. Then, you notice other scars on his skin, and your hands find those too.

“Your boots are so loud,” he hums, and you’re taken back by it.

“What?”

“Your boots.” He hums, “I hear you stomping around with these things on, they’re.. Like a bell, you know? I like knowing you’re around.” His fingers go down to the laces of your left boot, slowly untying them. Then, he does the same with the right boot.

He pulls off your boots, before running his fingers over your socks.

“They’re multicolored. Bright and patterned.” You confess, and he grins, before pulling them off. Then, he stops, realizing you have another pair of socks on. He blinks, before starting to laugh.

“You have two pairs of socks on?” he chuckles, your face flushing.

“My boots are just a little too big!” You tell him, and he laughs, resting his head against your thigh. He finishes taking your socks off, before working on the buttons of your jeans. When he finally gets those undone, he pulls off your pants, throwing them somewhere close to his now abandoned shirt. His hand comes up to rub you through your panties, and he lets out a scoff as he does.

“So wet for me, pup..” He mumbles, coming up to gently kiss your cheeks and then your jaw, as you whine. “I know, baby, I know,” he says softly, rubbing your clit gently. You whine gently at the feeling, gripping his wrist. He chuckles softly, kissing you to shut you up a bit.

He pulls his hand away from your throbbing cunt to pull off your tee shirt, throwing it wherever. He starts to kiss you as you fiddle with the buttons of his pants and pull them off, letting him step out of the before he casts them away.

You grin into the kiss, before he pulls away.

“What? What’s got you so giddy, pup?” he asks, a grin on his face too.

“Briefs,” You hum, fiddling with the waistband of his briefs, and he laughs, shaking his head.

“Thinking about your professor’s underwear?” He teases, leaning in to bite your neck. “Dirty, dirty girl.” He grins, and you swat at his shoulder, which causes him to laugh. He likes having fun with you, even if it’s not inherently sexual.

His hands come up to run gently over your skin, trailing from your hands up to your shoulders, and then all the way to your ears, where his fingers gently run over your hearing aids. It’s a nice gesture, really, but as soon as his fingers brush over your hearing aids, you immediately retract, the feedback shooting through your skull, uncomfortably.

“Ow—” You cringe, leaning your head back to try and get away from his fingers. He cringes, hearing the feedback, not as badly as you do but knowing it’s there and that you’re in pain pains him.

“I’m sorry,” he coos softly, his fingers moving down to cup your jaw. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I hadn’t realized—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” You hum, tilting your head to kiss his palm gently. “It happens, It’s why you should never touch them while I have them on.” You shrug. He leans down and kisses your stomach a bit, before going back to kiss you again, deepening the kiss a bit before roughly shoving you back on the bed. You giggle as he climbs on top of you, caging you in between his legs, as he slips his tongue into your mouth again. He kisses you with passion and need, and it drives you entirely too wild. As he pulls away, one hand comes up to grip your chin, before he leans down with his head against yours.

“Want me to fuck you, pretty thing?” He asks gently, his voice sweet as honey as he talks so obscenely to you. You whine, finally getting what you want after weeks and months of waiting. He just smiles and shakes his head, “No, no, puppy, you gotta say it to me.” He requests.

“Yes, I want you..” You groan, bucking your hips a bit at the thought of him finally fucking you.

“Want me to do what?” he asks, innocently.

“Want you to fuck me, please..” You request, and this finally seems to satisfy him. His hand comes down to unhook your bra, throwing it behind him with the rest of your clothes, before his lips begin to travel downwards, kissing down your jaw and neck, before he’s kissing the valley of your breasts, his hand going down to rub your clit again.

He groans against your skin at the feeling of your wetness soaking through your underwear and listening to your moans. His hands begin to work to take off your panties, and as soon as those are gone, your hands come up to his briefs, wanting them gone.

“Off, off, off—” You huff, and he laughs as he slips them off. Then, he reaches over and grabs a condom from the bedside table, but you grab his hand, shaking your head, “No, no—I’m on the pill, promise.”

“You sure?” He asks gently, and you nod, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

“Sure.” You nod, and then you’re kissing him again, your hand going down to stroke his cock, and he gasps into the kiss, before chuckling. He pulls away to mutter out to you--

“Needy girl,” he purrs, before moving to kiss you again. As you’re kissing, he slips his cock into you, and you moan into the kiss, tensing at the feeling, “Relax for me, pup.. So fucking tight for me.” He groans, his hand coming down to swat your thigh. “Relax.” He tells you, his voice sterner this time.

You nod, trying to form a more conscious thought than the pure bliss you feel, your hands wrapping around his neck, scratching down his back a bit. He groans softly, as he starts to slowly thrust into you. He is using every ounce of self-control he has, resisting the urge to absolutely violate you.

But he’s trying to be gentle, be nice.

“Faster,” You gasp out, your fingers pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck. He does that half chuckle, and it makes you whine as he begins to speed up.

“Beautiful little pup..” he says lowly, “Been staring at me.. Wanting your professor so badly these past few weeks, dirty little thing,” he hums, “Fuck, so.. fuck..” Your legs are beginning to shake the longer and harder he thrusts into you. “So fucking good for me..” You whine into his lips as they crash into yours, one hand going down to rub your clit gently, the stimulation too much for someone who hasn’t had sex this good, ever, but especially because you haven’t had sex at all in the past.. well, six or more months.

“Matty, ‘m..” You can barely get the words out as he fucks you harder,

“I know baby, come on, cum for me, pup,” he coos, his thrusts nor rubbing slowing down, maintaining his pace. Within a minute, you’re coming with loud moans into his ears, and he’s following suit shortly after, coming deep inside you.

But for the few minutes after the two of you finish, he continues his thrusting, relishing in the pretty moans and the sound of his deep thrusts into you. Eventually, he slows down, remaining deep inside of you. He pulls you close, kissing you deeply before flipping the pair of you over, and holding your legs close to stay buried deep inside of you.

For a few minutes, there are no words spoken, just deep, frantic pants and sweaty skin against each other.

“You know, that was as good as I’ve been fantasizing about for weeks.” You pant, “Better, even..” He laughs and nods.

“Me too..” he kisses you softly. “Let me take you out somewhere.”

“I thought we had to be careful..”

“We’ll go away somewhere then. Just the two of us for the weekend. I need to be with you, I can’t get enough of you now that I’ve had a taste.. Besides, I haven’t even eaten you out. Now that, that is going to be fun.” He grins, and you swat his arm.

“Evil, mean man!” You gasp, and he just laughs, kissing your forehead.

“I’m sorry, pup, let me make it up to you,” he hums.

“How?”

“Calling you pup a few times, ordering Thai food and teaching you how to suck me off?”

“I know how to suck you off,” You scoff.

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head, leaning in to kiss him. Then, lips still against yours, he whispers, “Prove it, pretty puppy.”

[aphroditessaturn]

pairing || hobie brown × fem!spider woman!reader

summary || in your universe he's there, but not anymore and in his, you don't exist

note || this is short and antsy because I wanna try how you all like my hobie, so let's go. Reblog, comment and/or follow!!!

Your eyes scanned the room, heart-stopping once you saw someone…someone you’d never thought you’d see again, him, the love of your life.

A tear escaped your eye which you quickly wiped away, debating if you should go up to him and say something, anything, whatever your mind could think of. God, he looked just like the night you lost him.

“He’s not the Hobie you know,” a voice whispered, Miguel had laid a hand on your shoulder, pulling you from your thoughts.

“But he’s right there, I can see, hear him, feel him, he’s real,” you pressed out, eyes watering even more. You didn’t want to believe Miguel, why shouldn’t this be your Hobie? No, he had to be lying.

Miguel sighed, it was nothing new to him as he felt the same when he saw another version with his daughter. Having to tell himself it’s not her, it’s not him.

You couldn’t grasp how this wasn’t your Hobie, wanting to go up to him, hug him and hear his voice again. Just once, only for a moment, but Miguel stopped you and his expression was filled with guilt, but why? It wasn’t his fault, “he doesn’t know you, in his universe you don’t exist,” god, he didn’t want to tell you, however, he needed to.

Nothing came from your lips, there wasn’t anything you could think of to say, body almost limb.

“Here you can be friends, maybe it will help you overcome your grief,” his words were meant to help you, and encourage you but all they did was hurt you further.

You couldn’t be with him in the way you wanted to, why was it not possible? It had to be possible. You wanted to scream by now, fall to your knees and let the tears stream down your cheeks, your feelings were too strong.

“Let me introduce you,” Miguel gave you a comforting squeeze on your shoulder. Taking a deep breath you followed him.

Miguel cleared his throat to gather the attention of everyone, "meet Spider-Moon," he introduced you. Hesitantly you stepped forward, everyone was looking at you, but your eyes were only on one person.

"Peter B. Parker, nice to meet you! So, your name is Spider-Moon, that one's new! How did you get it?" a Spider-Man with brown hair and a toddler? Started talking, sounding cheerful and welcoming.

However you were a bit taken aback by his manner, "because of my suit," you answered his question.

"I'm Hobie, nice meeting ya Moony," his voice smooth and deep, the accent that made you melt every single time. Then the nickname, by god you thought you weren't hearing it clearly but you did, your Hobie called you that too.

"What?" you asked, all color drained from your face. Hobie looked confused, and went to repeat his sentence when Miguel cut in, "let's move on."

"No, I gotta go," you quickly forced out and sprinted out of the room.

How could he not be your Hobie? Even the nickname was the same, it didn't make sense. Tears rolled down your cheek, you couldn't hold it together anymore, you had to let go. Maybe you couldn't be the hero you wanted to be after all.

"Everythin' alright Moony?"

remember my inbox is always open for any thots, ideas, news – literally anything

reblogs or comments are welcome!

[ravixen]

Hey!! You wrote a seventeen with meeting your friends could you do a performance team ver of it? 👉🏼👈🏼

svt + meeting your friends (pt 2)

➔ reaction || requested || performance unit

➔ warnings: none || 0.6k words ➔ notes: fluff ; hiya, happy monday! I did indeed write a post about seventeen meeting your friends, and I'd be happy to write a part two of it. if you liked this, please reblog!

JUNHUI: oh, he's so nervous leading up to it. you keep trying to reassure him that he's fine, that he will be fine; he's literally so funny and personable, and your friends are going to love him. "but what if they don't?" is his immediate counter, and you try not to roll your eyes. "then they don't, and it's not important because I'm the one dating you, not them. but again, it's impossible for people not to like you." somewhere between that statement and the kisses that you pepper across his face, he does feel calmer...only for the fear to return as soon as he steps on your friend's welcome mat. before he can gather his nerves, the door opens, and your friend ushers the two of you in with a grin. "hey! sorry for the rush, but my cat decided to be an escape artist this week. successfully foiled her plans twice, but who knows when she'll—" right on cue, a furry blur tries to dash past your legs, but jun's faster; he snatches the cat up into his arms, placating her yowling with head scratches that quiet her instantly. your friend whistles lowly. "you just became my new favorite person." see? you were right—instant charm.

SOONYOUNG: it comes as a surprise to some people that he's actually on the shy side, especially when it comes to meeting new people, but you know this about him. that's why you propose that he joins your friends for game night; it'll be a big enough group that he won't feel pressured to chat, but still small enough to get a taste of your social circle. and you're right. when he sees the amount of people, the tension in his shoulders ease, melting away completely when you give his hand a squeeze. you slot yourself right between your closest friends, who scoot over to make room for your boyfriend and greet him with a wave. another strategic choice because these two are witty and funny and tasked with making sure that soonyoung feels comfortable, which shouldn't be too hard because he smiles and that's a good sign. of course, the one single thing you didn't take into account...how competitive soonyoung can be with games. he's not an asshole about it at all—he's just loud, and you're pretty sure that he turns into a different person as soon as mafia is mentioned. your friends think he's hilarious, though, clutching their sides as soon as he accuses you again of being a traitor.

MINGHAO: you were worried about his reaction for some reason, but you don't know why because his eyes brighten immediately. "I'd love to be your plus one," he says, already getting up to search his closet for the perfect thing to wear to your friend's western-style tea party. never mind that the event isn't for a month; he's ready to show up and show off for you. literally so extra and insists on matching your outfits in subtle ways and preparing in advance. when he shows up on the day of, your friends have to pause because who invited an actual prince to their pretend party? he is an absolute gentleman through and through, and it's evident in how he carefully helps serve the tea and refreshments. his calming voice and soft chuckles punctuate conversations, and you don't know how he manages to be even dreamier than he already was. before the end of the event, your friends are leaning over the table and inviting him to the after party, which you hadn't heard about—because apparently they just thought of it in that moment. it'll be a private karaoke room and bar with flashing lights and blasting speakers because there's no way that he could be perfect there, too. naturally, he proves them wrong.

CHAN: posted in part 1!

[bearratic]

Get to know the mun ! repost, don’t reblog.

——— BASICS.

NICK[NAME] : Benjamin. [Benji/Bear.]

PRONOUNS : He/Him.

ZODIAC SIGN : Aquarius - Feb 7th.

TAKEN OR SINGLE : Single.

ANYTHING ELSE? : Real fuckn dutch. Made of stroopwafels.

——— THREE SERIOUS FACTS.

Writing gives me the time and space to gather my thoughts. I use it as a practice in conveying emotion, which makes it easier to do so and thoroughly explain reasoning. I use writing as a base for learning human psyche, soul, mind and spirit which interests me deeply. I try digging deeper into feelings and actions - reasons why some are done and linking them together.

I pick muses based on some hint of personality trait I see of myself in them. I find myself often asking what I want so having muses that at least correlate to my thoughts are a better fit for me than just a choice at random. It can be big as the way they think or it can be as small as sharing a favorite drink. Exploring their interests based on their world and adding on to it makes it way more enjoyable for me to write, story and world building is important to me.

I fucking love everyone I have ever written and will ever write with. This has been nothing but a warm and loving experience for me.

——— THREE RANDOM FACTS.

My nickname is thanks to my father, who even though he named me one thing, found it often too long and switched it to another lol.

I go to at least 3 concerts every month. Mostly rock in genre if I get to chose but I never say no when friends ask. I will always be your +1 to any event.

If I had to pick a country to move to it would be Scotland, sorry but I have a light obsession with that place.

——— EXPERIENCE.

Zero dude. Literally none. I just picked it up as a hobby and passed my blogs one year birthday last august. I have been truly active in the writing community for only half a year in total.

I go with the flow, I enjoy coming up with things on the spot. Diseccting my muses and throwing them into any type of situation just to write myself out of it. Or-... make it worse for them. Keep it interesting you know?

I write through and together with music, I let it guide me often. This is kind of the reason I am a slow replier, I have to really feel what I want to put down and then I can stick to it. Besides that, English is not my first language so I have to switch back and forth in my brain real often. It can be a bit tiring but I gladly do it for my writing partners. Much love.

——— MUSE PREFERENCE.

Give me anything with a background we can explore and me and my muses are in. I thoroughly enjoy talking to you about your muses and mine, from their favorite pairs of socks to their family drama, idc I want to know.

I need a lot of building together, plotting and anything to truly write my muse closer to yours if you want anything deeper. I build through writing together. From something silly to movie scripts. Let them get to know each other to their deepest point.

——— FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT.

FLUFF : Yeah definitely, I’m a sappy dude. I like to daydream.

ANGST : Also yeah! I enjoy making problems for my muses, it makes me understand them more. Dread is and can be intense so be sure to be in the right headspace and let me know.

SMUT : Sure, though with my lack of writing experience bear with me on this one. I really have to know how you write and your muse for this to work, I do not wish to overstep boundaries either yours, your muses or my own. Which I am unable to know if we do not at least have a talk about it.

——�� PLOT / MEMES : Thanks to you I know how much I enjoy plotting. I know I'm rather slow with DM replies but please don't take it personally I am just truly busy and can only do one thing atta time. Memes! Starters! Send me them all day everyday, I might not get to them immediately but I will and I will love it.

TAGGED BY : @sanctissimx I adore. Thank Yououou.

TAGGING : Cool ppl but no pressure. @cherriedrage @penandswords @patronsxints @carminewill @heterochromatica @ofcursedenergy @modeinthemiddle @huntershowl & You.

[skzstoryvault]

Erase and Rewind (angst, fluff, smut - Hyunjin - Final part)

F!Reader

ex!Chan

good friend Hyunjin

multi chapter story

this chapter: feelings and smut

Chan broke up with reader

Reader is moving on

Hyunjin is being a supportive friend

Featuring insecurities, internalised misogyny and self-hate

This is in no way meant as a commentary on the real persons depicted here. They all deserve the world.

Please be kind.

Please do not report this post. If it's not your thing, just scroll away.

If you're underage, please scroll on, there is nothing for you here.

If you enjoy this story and are reading along, I would love to hear your comments in the replies, reblogs or DMs - however you feel most comfortable.

*** Part 3

You were single for two Valentine’s Days and for two White Days now, and other than staying in and distracting yourself with action movies, you did not feel the seasonal sadness affect you. Not to mention, there were other friends of yours who weren’t big on celebrating those things and who invited you to their houses for casual gatherings. Minho hosted a silent rave at his house one year (which Chan and his girlfriend skipped), Felix invited himself over one White Day, with cake ingredients and his infectious good mood. You were doing great.

This year, for White Day, Hyunjin declared the entire world could fuck off with its lovey dovey shit and he invited you for an art experience at a gallery which provided huge canvases, non-toxic paints and small thongs for the clients to use for painting on each other, then rolling across the canvasses and creating their own unique art pieces. “Uh… this is a literal string. My whole dick is out.” Hyunjin said from the changing booth next to yours. 

“My outfit has no bra. Granted there’s not much that can go in it but I bet you didn’t sign up to see my nips on this God’s fine day.” “Shall I tell the staff we’re not doing it? If you’re uncomfortable?” “How much did you look forward to this, Hyune? And also, this must have been such a headache to organise, for you, with how booked you are. And aren’t you uncomfortable?” “Well, I really wanted to do it. I thought it would be nice for us to have this special thing in common.” 

“Tell you what. Let’s still do it - butt naked. I know you love me and won’t laugh at me, and the same goes for me too.” “Fuck yes!” Hyunjin burst out of his booth, naked and in flip flops. “Jewellery - on or off?” You thought for a bit. “Off, I’d say, we don’t want the canvas to snag. Or for you to be up at three am, cleaning out paint from your custom diamond pieces with the toothbrush.” 

“One less thing to jiggle around.” He said, heading for the canvases. “These really are big.” You exited your booth too, joining him, also in your birthday suit. “Shall we begin? Please, no pastels for me.” By the time he was halfway done with putting paint on you, you noticed him fidgeting and noticed why, as well. “Look, it happens, okay? You’re young and fit, a breeze coming in through the open window can give you a semi. It’s fine.” “It’s not a breeze though, it’s you. “ Hyunjin said. “You’re just so fine, and the fact that you wanted us to do this, even naked… so hot. But don’t worry, I’ll behave. I know how you feel about sex with men lately.” 

“Er, that was almost two years ago. The sex itself is not the issue, the other shit it came with is. And… you think that’s the issue??? Hold up… excuse me for presuming here but… I didn’t think you’d be into me. Chan said you don’t like women.”

“He… what?” Hyunjin gasped so hard you feared he might straight up hyperventilate. “Or… that’s what I understood. I don’t remember the exact phrasing but he said that if you fished in the same pond no one would ever be so much as noticed by girls.” “Well maybe I don’t crop dust my charms all over the world because I’m not about all that. Whenever my hormones are taking the reigns, I use that energy and that drive to make art, to dance, to train, to push myself harder. To be the perfect whore for Stay so they’ll give me the most attention. I really don’t think I have to be a slave to every erection that comes and goes. I guess from the others’ end it might look different.” He said, looking down at his now behaving dick. “Case in point. Although I’ve been insanely attracted to you since we met, but then you went for Channie and I thought, eh, we’re not the same type, I’m not even an option. I’m not as confident and in charge as him and I’m shy so I… decided I would take any kind of place in your life you deigned to give me. But then he broke up with you, like a donkey, I might add, and you were so hurt and defeated, I though it inappropriate to still have a crush on you. I didn’t want to feel like I was friends with you for… predatory reasons. Just know that I think you’re everything and also… there’s these. Warning, I am not trying to be a pervert but look… I’ve had it done in Japan.” The madman. The absolute, perfect, amazing dumbass, you thought, looking at the twin scars. 

You pointed to yours, now faded and pretty much invisible unless you drew attention to them.

“We… we actually match.” You said, feeling tears threaten to spill. “Jinnie… I’m going to cry! But… are you sure? That’s pretty extreme.” “I am crying! And yes, I am very sure. I can always adopt a child who needs love, and between you and me every time I hear people say how beautiful my kids will be with this creepy sort of entitlement… I used to shudder, now I can laugh about it.” He said, scooching closer to hug you. “We’re mixing up our paints. And… and I can’t believe I scrounged up the balls to tell you. And you like it? Like… me?” “Jinnie… you’ve given me back to me this past year plus. And it’s not just gratitude, don’t think you have to work hard to earn my affection, but… you carved out all the darkness from my world and replaced it with your colours. I should be so lucky to have your love, in this way or another. Your love is worth the risk. You’ve taught me there are no guarantees beyond what we choose to give each other today. And I want your love, if you want mine in return.” 

Hyunjin just sobbed harder, everything else forgotten for a long, elastic moment stretching outside of time, in which the two of you sat naked and entangled in the middle of a tarp, covered in colours. Still crying, Hyunjin took your hand and helped you up. He rolled you across your canvas and you moved him across his own. You then stood, together, looking at your finished art pieces from further away. “They’re beautiful, Jinnie.” You said, moving closer to him and taking his hand in yours. “And they match perfectly. Like us.” He said, finally finding your lips with his, enveloping you in his arms and holding you close, glued to him. 

It didn’t even feel like you were naked with him then. He made you feel so safe and seen, you forgot you were supposed to feel self-conscious.

You went back to your place after the gallery, to wash the rest of the colours off and to continue your make-out session. Still damp and with steam coming off of your skins, you collapsed between your sheets together, kissing ravenously, hands roaming and mapping previously off limits parts. You ended up in a tangle of limbs on the bed, Hyunjin’s cock down your throat and his tongue in your pussy. The way you both pulled and squeezed at each other’s skin, trying to get deeper, closer, was matched only by the neediness in your sounds. You had always guessed Hyunjin was the vocal type, now you knew for sure and his gone moans and whimpers made your core clench painfully and your walls slicker. It felt good and normal, that sense of vulnerability you hadn’t liked before nowhere to be found. You knew, deep in the back of your mind, that you and Hyunjin were thick as thieves and even if he did move on from you sexually, he would never cut you out of his life and allow you to fade into the faceless crowd of people who orbit him but are inconsequential to him. He comes without warning, from you running a wet finger over his hole and you pull back a bit so you wouldn’t choke or hurt him, focusing on drinking him down and not spilling a drop. He tastes so clean and familiar, and you know it’s psychological, this part - the thought that taking his come inside you can’t harm you or change the course of your life to a trajectory not of your choosing. This is, of course, in line with how Hyunjin makes you feel in every other way: seen, protected and cared for. Like a precious secret or a superpower. 

You don’t expect to come, you’re too lost in the tsunami of emotions crashing down on you, and usually when there’s a disconnect between mind and body, nothing happens, but this time, Hyunjin pushes you down that steep slide by simply keeping at devouring you with his lips, his tongue, his long and gentle fingers. You don’t expect it, yet you start shaking like a leaf in autumn and feel yourself gush all over his face, an actual scream tearing out from you at how unexpectedly intense it feels. 

By the time you can breathe normally again and can string two thoughts together, Hyunjin is still panting and his skin feels like it’s burning. He’s sweating profusely, like from an hour-long dance practice. His hands are still idly caressing you where he can reach, your thighs, your hips, your belly. 

“Give me a moment and I’ll fuck you until we black out.” He says, his intoxicatingly appealing confidence making you shiver again. “Going to fuck every memory of Channie-hyung from you so you’re all mine.” 

It’s a double-edged sword kind of comment that could land well or really badly, but the fact that he risked it for your own benefit is incredible. 

Hyunjin already pieced all the broken parts of you together and glued them with his gold.  You don’t know why or how, certainly not because you’re special - because you know you’re not. But on the other hand, he went all in too, and if it’s all a cruel prank or some background bet with the boys, it’s a damn high value one. “You being in your head, listening to your mean girl voice?” Hyunjin asks, sitting up and coming to caress your face. “Tell me.” He adds, leaning down to lick your lips into opening, sucking your lower one and then biting into it just the right amount so it stings but doesn’t hurt. “I want you fully here for what I’m going to do to you.” 

His words make you gasp. “I’m still wondering why you chose me. I’m just a girl. Not even the prettiest.” 

“To me you are THE girl.” Hyunjin says, bringing a hand up to caress your lips with careful, featherlight fingertips. “You can learn so much about a person when you dance with them, it’s so intimate and electric. I’ve never felt like this, like I want to take all of you and put you inside me and protect you from the world.” 

His words send pure pleasure sparking up and down your spine, you never expected someone would feel like this about you and he’s right, that feeling when you dance together, that you are one soul in two bodies - you’ve felt it too and it was all-overpowering. 

You close your eyes briefly, against the tide of rushing sensations coursing through you. Underneath, like the dark waters of the ocean, are your feelings, which are also stirring. You could love Hyunjin in the same all-consuming, all-overtaking way he acts towards you. The feeling of safety he gives you is unlike anything you’ve felt before and makes you want to go anywhere he wants to take you. 

You become aware of the closeness of your bodies, the way your heated skins touch almost all over, with Hyunjin now half on top of you, with a leg bent and thrown possessively over you. His cock is pressed against your hip, leaking on your skin there, hard already. Everything about him is so ethereally beautiful, from his pillowy soft lips and his spindly, strong and gentle fingers, to his cock, long and thick and now hard again. You run the hand currently not carding through his hair down along the thigh he had flung across you, and the muscles shift subtly beneath your fingertips. He makes a completely ruined sound, squeezing his eyes shut and opening them to look at you. “Can I? Please, can I?”

“Yes, Jinnie, you can always have me. I’m all yours now.”

“Only mine, too.” He whispers, as though he’s manifesting it for himself. “Help me? I don’t want to mess this up.” You nod, reaching down and guiding him to rest against your entrance. One deep breath later and you’re breaching yourself  before he takes over, pushing in just the tiniest bit. The stretch is just on this side of pain, after so long. You’re turned on out of your mind though, and he can slide in easily, but you want to feel more of that stretch. “Slowly, until you bottom out. I want to feel all of this.” You say, voice coming out raspy and breathless. “Heavens, Jinnie - you feel perfect.” 

He lets out a breath he’s been holding for ages, it seems, lowering his forehead to yours. “I’m afraid to move. If I do, I’ll bust.” He says, his eyes closed. You could be with him like this forever. Him above you, inside you, trembling like a leaf from all the things rushing through him. He never looks more gorgeous than he does in moments like this one, fully naked with you, inside out, no make-up, no retouches. Soon, he does move - halfway propped up on an arm while the other one is under you, pulling you closer and anchoring him to you, wrecked-sounding and with eyes squeezed closed, lower lip chewed up and hair sticking in wet tendrils to his face and neck. He looks like a god. 

It takes him a bit to find an angle and a pace he can sustain, and all the pressing and wriggling around just pushes him closer into you, so close that every movement of his hips is felt in your clit, and you just know it’s a matter of when by now, not if he makes you come. “I can’t… fuck, I can’t…” he pants out in frustration. “I can’t hold it long enough, I’m sorry.” He adds, collapsing on you and peppering apologetic kisses all over your face and neck.

You know he means he can’t hold a steady rhythm in this position, not long enough to get you both to that place where you both fall over the edge. 

“Kneel up, baby. Sit back and spread your legs beneath me.” You guide him. He can definitely do it, he has the strength for it, and the hubris needed to attempt to pull off the switch in position while still inside you. 

“Oh… my… God!” He exclaims when it works and he finds himself with you in his lap, with your legs on either side of him, grinding on his length which is now buried impossibly deeper inside you. His first reaction once he’s sat down and his heels are digging into the sheets is to pull you close and bury his face in your neck, leaving a deep mark at the spot where your neck meets the shoulder. For a moment, he forgets to move up into you, distracted by how much closer he can have you now, how much easier it is to reach your neck, your collarbones, the swell of your breasts, your nipples. “Are you close, baby?” You press out, wanting his focus. If he forgets himself now, the rhythmic squeezing of your walls around his cock buried deep inside you and the maddening, overwhelming feel of his lips and fingers on your nipples will throw you over the edge and leave him behind. And any other time, that would be perfectly fine, but you need him with you this time, the first time of many. 

“Yes, fuck, this is so… it’s everything!” He pants. “I was close since you let me in. I’m barely holding on, so you don’t think I-” He gets cut off by the next squeeze of your walls around his length when you’re seated flush in his lap. “Oh fu-” Hyunjin goes cross-eyed briefly, holding on to you and pulling you close, wrapping his arms around you and locking you in, your front glued to his. 

Seeing him lose it for you, because of you, throws you over the edge too, sparks of pleasure turning into currents shooting up and down your spine, spreading tingles all over you, all the way to your toes. As soon as your heavy breathing goes down a bit, you lean in and kiss Hyunjin, stealing his breath and licking along his now spit-slick lips. He’s going slack beneath you and you push him backwards so he ends up lying down on the bed. You follow, his softening cock slipping out of you, causing you both to whine at the loss of contact and the sound of your bodies separating wetly. 

“That was… holy… I knew it would be good but… because it was with you, it was out of this world. I felt like I died and got zapped back to life.” Hyunjin speaks, his words leaving his chest slowly. He sounds so dreamy and relaxed, like he might fall asleep while talking. “I want to do it again and again, till I can’t move or remember my name. I want to let you try everything on me. Tie me up, fuck me, blindfold me, spank me, pi-” “Jinnie!” You chime from your comfy spot on top of him. “I appreciate the enthusiasm. I guess we have to stay together for a little while so we can try all the things you want.” 

“I want that. I want to try it all with you.” He says, sounding far away and half into the land of dreams already. “Wanna keep you fucked out and pleased all the time. Or… uhhh, do things in your own time? I want to tell Stay about you right away, to sort the haters out and to be able to be together like normal people.” "You don't have to. People are full of hate, Jinnie. I want you to keep being the loveable brat, the prince and the spoiled baby in public. You should be Stay's best and cutest husband, it's good for your career. Better than announcing a girlfriend." "But... won't you hate being kept a secret?" "Babe, I'm being selfish. I don't want the world to be in on our relationship. And well, statistically, we have more of a chance to last as a couple if we don't invite everyone else out there into it." "Then I'll do what feels right for you. I like being an idol and I love being yours now. If I can continue doing both... all the better. And we can keep hanging out like before, I need to see you every day when I'm around here." “Mmm, good thing you said that, I don’t want us to go from being besties to only being strictly dickly.” You say, finding a comfortable spot to snuggle next to your boyfriend. “A lot of people have dicks, but there’s only one of you, my good sweet Hyune.” 

“Don’t stop, go on,” he says, his eyes closed and a smile tugging on his lip corners. 

“You are so good to me, my baby. You gave me my joy back.” You say. “Wanna keep you to myself for so long.” 

You’re not sure he heard the last part, since he’s already snoring softly, like a cat purring itself to sleep. But the words that left your lips are enough of a shock to you already.  It’s the truth. Hyunjin never cared how much of a mess you were. To him, you’re the hottest thing in the world and he gave you more than 100% of himself in every way. 

[rrxnjun]

(im really stupid but i hope u like this fanletter 😭)

hello <3 this is for my favourite writer on tumblr; to the the same writer who does not realise how much their works could mean to someone, the lovely @rrxnjun 🎀 !!!

so, i found your blog at the beginning ot this month– november, 2023, and now that the month's about to end, i have nearly finished reading all your nct works.

to me, this month is the most special one of this year. why? because i found your blog, your stories– some pieces of your mind. i found you through one of those nct fanfic recs, 'take the stairs - njm' being the first work i read from you. it was sweet, it made me happy. and then i read the other two parts of the 'simplify romance' series, which will always hold a special place in my heart.

this year has been the worst for me, with no one for me to lean on to, weird identify crisis shit, and losing myself in this tiring process of growing up. but you know what? you saved 2023 for me. when no one's words could speak to me, yours did. you make me feel a little less lonely.

im a silly teenager, who never read sad/mainly angsty stories before i found you because i was scared, i was confident i'd cry. and i did. i gathered the courage to read angst only because you'd written it, and it was so worth it. ive stayed up so many nights this month just to read your works in peace and privacy, hidden from my family, and then spend the days thinking about how you literally create art, and telling my bestfriends about it. you are blessed. you are phenomenal. no amount of thank yous or i love yous could be enough for me to express my gratitude. you've made me feel so at peace with my thoughts sometimes and you've made me feel like i'm not alone. you have magic in your hands. i owe you so much, i wish i could gift you something, but sadly im still a minor and theres a few years until i finish uni and then get a job, and then i promise i'll get you something, because i am so lucky to be able to read your stories for free. you deserve so much more than followers, likes and reblogs. each one of your fics have made me tear up and all of them are too special for me.

this month ive read all of your nct dream '00 line fics, and my favourite was 'happier than ever' which i finished a week ago— AND I SWEAR THAT FIC DESTROYED ME 😭😭😭 it had me bawling my eyes out for two hours on a school night i love it so so fucking much, i literally think about it daily and i told all my friends about it and im so in love with it, please tell me, for my inner peace that renjun and the reader ended up getting together and being fine because im gonna cry over it for the rest of my life IDC IF THEY DIDNT END UP TOGETHER please lie to me and tell me they did 💔💔💔💔💔😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

i want you to know, and to remember this whenever you feel even a little like giving up— you have magic, bar, don't ever let go of that magic.

your stories make me want to heal and to help everyone heal. to be loved and to love everyone. to be cared for and care for everyone. your magic helps me survive my days with a little smile. thank you so much for everything you've done for me, without realising you're helping me live.

every single word i wrote here– i swear on everything i have, i genuinely mean it. you are the best thing that happened this year :) i hope that one day someone will love you as much as i love your blog.

(me when i talk about your work)

P.S. permission to take a screenshot of your blog and paste it to my scrapbook by which i can remember my teenage years that your stories mended, please?

thank you for reading, ily ❤️

- your biggest fan (hopefully no one's more dedicated!!) 💘

when i saw this in my inbox i got so emotional i couldnt reply immidiately because i genuinely wanted to sob. this is so so sweet and it mustve taken a long time to type out and i appreciate you a WHOLE lot, not only for this, but also for supporting me sm over the last month. :,)

take the stairs is a very sweet and fun fic and i am glad you found my blog through this one, haha. the simplify romance series holds my favorite fics and i PROMISE to finish jeno's entry at the beginning of the next year!! it HAS to be done. it means a lot to me that you took the time of your day to read my works and that you enjoyed them so much to let me know.

i am happy to hear that my work could help you through some hard times. as a reader on this platform as well, i do know that feeling very well and i could never imagine being that person to someone, but i am glad my words could be there for you when no one else could. hearing this makes all the effort feel worth it, and it's something i'll think of whenever im having a hard time with my work again. i also hope life is nicer to you in the future, and if you ever need someone, my inbox is always open.

having my fics be called art is something i never imagined could happen. it's beyond what i think about my work, but i am honored to hear this compliment, truly. despite being a writer i cant find the words to express my gratitude towards you and your supportive words right now >:( it does mean the whole entire world to me. please do NOT worry about "paying me back" or something, i do this because it's what i love doing and sharing my work with others makes me happy, so an ask like this is more than enough for me. you made me feel really appreciated and i will remember and treasure your kind words forever.

happier than ever is definitely a heavier read, since it's partly from personal experience, hh. i tend to project on renjun a lot so take this as a warning for my other renjun fics LMAO. TT this fic has a special place in my heart and hearing you talk so highly about it makes me all warm on the inside hhhhh my love langugage is words of affirmation stop this or ill cry. i enjoy leaving my fics open-ended to interpretation of the reader, so whatever you feels fits their story is how the story ends for you. <3

i will definitely use this ask as a reminder to not give up when i feel like doing so. it really brought me a lot of strength :) thank you for calling my writing magic. i never imagined someone describing it that way, but it does feel good to hear haha

knowing that my work helped somebody and made them heal and feel all sorts of emotions inside makes me feel at peace. thank you so much. SO much.

also u really make me want to bawl with that scrapbook comment. cant believe im an important part of someone's teenage years :((

once again, words cant express how much this means to me. thank you and i hope my fics continue to be a source of good things for you :) i will think of this often. ily

[moonlightdancer26]

"Give me proof"

the proof is literally right there. vyrid defended her bitch of a friend instead of holding her accountable for her hurtful words and had multiple arguments with itsevanffs but she never specified what it was about to "not escalate the deal." No lmao it's because she lost the argument She also said in a tomarry discord server that she got BLOCKED by duplicitywrites when they asked her about what happened. There was no misunderstanding. it was just her seeking drama.

Sooo, let’s see. You’re still anonymous. You’ve managed to reach out to one of vyrid’s friends, call vyrid a bitch, insult me for being friends with her, send another ask gathering supposed proof (gathering proof about someone? How pathetic can you be? 💀), call ANOTHER friend of vyrid’s a bitch, all while STILL remaining anonymous. Can you not comprehend how utterly farcical you look right now? This is genuine fan behaviour, come off anon and have a civil discussion with us, or are you scared?

1. Her friend’s post was a huge misunderstanding, it can certainly be interpreted as rude or harsh, but her friend didn’t mean to hurt any ff authors, they love Tom and wanted to post something for his birthday. If I had seen a post like that about my favourite character posted on their birthday, I’d be like “hey.. tone it down a bit.” But a few really big Tomarry blogs reblogged it and criticised OP for it and since they’re really popular blogs the post got more attention. And because of that, some people were straight up harassing her for it, even if their post came off as a bit unnecessary, that was no reason for countless people to hate on them for it. @vyrid could tell the hate was really getting to her friend, so out of basic human decency (take a few lessons on that topic, will ya?) she decided to defend her friend and CLARIFY what they actually meant. I distinctly remember Vivi herself telling me that it was a “50/50 post” (meaning that it can be interpreted as mean) or something along those lines. Her friend was genuinely scared when they saw how many popular blogs were reblogging their post. It would’ve been better if they made a somewhat less negative post about Tommy on his 96th birthday, but there was no reason for them to receive that much hate for it.

2. “had multiple fights with itsevanffs” Where the hell are you getting the “multiple” from? It was just that one time, which merely consisted of perfunctory back-and-forth’s. She DMed them and tried to discuss the situation with her friend’s post as civilly as she could. Did you go through every screenshot and post they’ve ever interacted through? I wouldn’t think so (unless you actually are as insane as you seem), so don’t act like you’ve grasped every single possible ounce of information there is to know about this incident just by lurking in the shadows like a coward.

3. “but she never specified what it was about to "not escalate the deal."” ..sorry she didn’t reveal every detail of “tHe DrAmA” publicly so others could see it and possibly escalate it?? “no lmao it's because she lost the argument” Do you even know what all these supposed multiple fights were about? Were you involved in any way? No? So mind your own fucking business.

4. “She also said in a tomarry discord server that she got BLOCKED by duplicitywrites when they asked her about what happened.” Because.. that’s what happened?? The members of the server saw what was happening and asked her about it, and she told them. Did she lie? 💀

5. “There was no misunderstanding.” So you’re telling me the Tomarry stan who loves Tom Riddle with all of their heart was purposefully hating on something related to him and completely meant to hurt other fans and writers? Mhm, makes total sense. I trust your words SO much, Anonymous Person With Too Much Free Time.

6. “it was just her seeking drama.” Seeking drama? She was literally defending her friend, her friend was being hated on by countless blogs for something they didn’t mean to come off as bad. And she went out of her way to privately message one of the people “involved” to reiterate what her friend meant. What else was she supposed to do? Some of us are actually good friends, anon. 💀

7. Also.. even if what you’ve said is true… @vyrid is a real person? Vyrid has actual feelings? Vyrid is a living, breathing person who is allowed one mistake. She obviously isn’t the token of all that is good and pure, but she has a heart. You’re a little too bold considering you’re an anon who’s checked out my blog at least four times.

8. Additionally, you never addressed what I wrote the previous time: How do you even know I followed her? She posted about it and I reblogged it, are you just stalking our blogs because you’re a pathetic coward hiding behind their computer with no life? 🤔 I still have the same questions, how do you even know about this? Do you follow Vivi, or even me? Or do you simply check her blog consistently each time you open tumblr to see if there’s “any news”?

Can you answer all these statements whilst not being anonymous, can you do that or are you a pussy?

@halfblood-princes-crown I’m tagging you here too cause you NEED to see anon’s fangirling 💀

[taegularities]

I don't think I've ever mentioned that I was on anon before, so it's totally okay. I just recently came across the specific ask saved in my bookmarks (because I cherish every author interaction with my whole heart), so that's what reminded me that I had even sent it.

It took me a while to build up the courage and actually interact with anything and anyone on here, and I remember going over things so many times to make sure that everything I'm saying makes sense and it's not too much. And look at me now, rambling in every single one of my reviews lmao.

But really, the important thing that I wanted to say is that I literally squeal out loud and get the biggest smile on my face when I see that you've reblogged one of my reviews or answered my asks. I am so glad that I made the decision to reach out because I love talking to you, both about your writing and not. Sorry that I've said it a million times now, but it is how I feel 💞💞💞

WAH YOU FOUND THE ASK. omg, it sounds 100% like you haha and i remember it, too! the day when everyone had this crazy as heck theory that he might have gotten a tattoo for her or whuteva 🙄

i absolutely get having to gather courage. i can absolutely assure you though that your reviews make sense; a lot of times you think of things that didn't even cross my mind. or you throw in theories that are spot on (hence my abundant use of "you're right" lmao), but i love love love your rambling so much, istg, we don't deserve you </3

and ivi, same, whenever i see that you've reblogged a chapter or sent an ask, i get so excited bc i enjoy reading through them all so much, i'm not even exaggerating 😭 so thank you for doing everything you do. and don't apologise, i must have thanked you for everything like a hundred and million times lmao so rambling frens unite <3

[magnusbae]

Something I see mentioned often is "I don't have many followers, my reblog won't matter" which is untrue.

First of all, reblogging, commenting and interacting is how you start gathering your own micro community, second of all— you literally do not know how far a single reblog from you could go in the long run.

For instance, let's say you only have one person reblog from you, and that person only have one person who reblogged from them also, and so on, and somewhere ten reblogs down the line a very large blog reblogs it and boom, the post is getting more and more exposure!

You see, it does not matter if you don't have a large following so long as you cultivate a micro community with the people you do enjoy interacting daily with.

As you can see in the second picture I added, most of the reblogs were between very small groups of people, and occasionally it'll lapse into a large blog that would create a bigger reblog pool. BUT STILL. Saying that you don't have many followers and so it doesn't matter if you don't reblog is UNTRUE.

Even if someone just randomly wanders into your blog one day, it's beneficial for both sides because A. Seeing you reblog content they like might be enough for them to follow you B. They would be exposed to new content creators they didn't know previously and might also follow / reblog from them!

So yes, do not underestimate what your reblogs and words mean, just because you're not 'big' or whatever. It is not how tumblr works!!

P.S IT IS NOT CRINGE TO REBLOG 10 YEARS OLD CONTENT ON TUMBLR. YOU SEE IT. YOU LIKE IT? REBLOG IT. DOESN'T MATTER IF YOU DIG IT FROM THE DEPTHS OF HELL ITSELF. XOXO :'D <3

To illustrate this post by @mayahawkse I would like to visualize to you the difference:

A post in 2023:

A post in 2014:

A zoom out of the same post:

This is what a community looks like.

See how in 2023 almost all of the reblogs come from the OP, from their few hours/days in the tag search. Meanwhile in 2014 the % of reblogs from OP is insignificant, because most of the reblogs come from the reblogs within the fandom, within the micro-communities formed there. You didn't need to rely on tags, or search, or being featured. Because the community took care of you, made sure to pass the work between themselves and onto their blog and exposed their followers to it. It kept works alive for years.

It's not JUST the reblog/like ratio that causing this issue, it's the type of interaction people have. They're content with scrolling and liking the search engine, instead of actually having a reblogging relationship with other blogs in their community.

Anyways, if you want to see more content you like, the only true way to make it happen is to reblog it. Likes do not forward content in no way but making OP feel nice. Reblogs on the other hand make content eternal. They make it relevant, they make it exist outside of a fickle tumblr search that hardly works on the best of days.

If you want more of something, reblog it.

[marxism-leninism-meowism]

I posted 6,460 times in 2022

That's 2,771 more posts than 2021!

134 posts created (2%)

6,326 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@hiveswap

@renchanters

@fensandmarshes

@queerautism

@vaspider

I tagged 315 of my posts in 2022

#bearsys speaks - 34 posts

#🌿 - 16 posts

#dream smp - 13 posts

#pro endo - 13 posts

#dsmp - 11 posts

#hermitcraft - 10 posts

#transgender - 9 posts

#ao3 - 9 posts

#techza - 8 posts

#syscourse - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#seriously though it really just goes to show that literally everyone has a very different idea of the work theyd do if money wasnt an issue

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

i wanna be put in a waffle iron and turned into a waffle. i think it'd be a nice sensory experience.

60 notes - Posted March 7, 2022

#4

Binding Resources (2022)

So, I think we’ve all noticed by now: GC2B’s loss of quality has led to many people desperate for better and safer options for chest binding. In the past few years, their quality has dipped significantly, sizing is unreliable, binders are cheap and low quality so they start to fall apart rather quickly. Not great for daily use, right?

Because of this, more people have been seeking out alternative options. I’ve tried to gather up all the best options (based on word of mouth, as is tradition in our community) into one post. I’ve only tried a few methods personally, but for reference, I am very much plus size and my chest is currently DD cup, historically C cup (when I tried some options).

If anyone has any resources, advice, or personal experience with any of the companies/brands I’ve already included to add, I definitely encourage you to reblog with additions.

Keep reading below the cut for more info!

Tape Binding

TransTape

Price: Recurring Purchase. $20-$25 for starter kit (incl. 1 roll, nip patches, small removal oil, small salve), $13-$17 for single rolls, ~$90 for ultimate kit (incl. 3 rolls, nip patches, large removal oil, large salve). Subscriptions available.

Wearability: Very good, especially for those with existing health conditions such as asthma that limit the use of traditional binding methods.

Binding: Best for D-cup and lower. Success with larger chests vary from person to person.

Purchase Options: US Based. 3″, 4″, 5″ widths. Four skin tones available, plus four colors and one “inked” design.

Risks: Adhesive reactions, cutting off circulation in chest if done improperly, removal can cause irritation and skin tearing.

I've seen a lot of hype around TransTape. First off, the positives: TransTape is amazing at binding without causing breathing issues or back pain. You can wear it constantly, and it’s super helpful on hot days because you can go shirtless and not worry about your chest. It’s waterproof, as well, so it can last through showers and swimming just fine. BUT you need to know the possible downsides before investing in this method. TransTape is rather expensive, so keep the cost compared to how much you’ll be using each time you bind in mind—you’ll have to keep buying it, as well, so it’s not a long-term investment like binders are. This will take trial and error to know how much you’ll use and how long it lasts, because those things are different for everyone—this is not a low budget option.

This option does not come without it’s major issues, though. TransTape can be very harsh on your skin, even if you do the removal process correctly. This isn’t a universal problem, but even if you’ve never had issues with adhesives, test a strip on the thinnest skin on your chest, NOT your arm or somewhere else with thicker skin, specifically your chest. Leave it on for a few days before removing. TransTape has really good adhesives but even for me (someone who has never had negative reactions to adhesives) the TransTape ripped off a whole layer of skin and caused a lot of red rash-like irritation and some bleeding no matter how carefully I removed it. The adhesive also sticks to your skin for a bit, which is a horrible feeling. I know many people that haven't had all these issues with skin irritation but you need to test it before putting it all over your chest.

KT Tape / kinesiology tape

Price: Recurring purchase. $5+ depending on where and how much you purchase. Generic available.

Wearability: Very good, especially for those with existing health conditions such as asthma that limit the use of traditional binding methods.

Binding: Best for B-cup and lower. Success with larger chests vary from person to person.

Purchase Options: Worldwide. Available in multiple skin tones and non-skin tone colors. Many more brands and purchase options available for kinesiology tape than TransTape, so I can’t get more specific, but there’s plenty of options available.

Risks: Adhesive reactions, cutting off circulation in chest if done improperly, removal can cause irritation and skin tearing.

Using KT Tape for binding has roughly the same benefits and downsides as TransTape. Binding with tape does not restrict breathing or cause back pain, which is a huge improvement from standard binding, especially for people with preexisting health issues. KT Tape, however, has a few differences from TransTape. It’s cheaper, which could be a major plus, but it’s kind of taken away by the fact that KT Tape is typically narrower than TransTape, which means the chest size it can effectively bind is going to be lower unless you’re using a lot more of it and being very clever about placement. The only people I personally know that have success with KT Tape have very small chests.

It’s possible to have similar issues with the adhesive as TransTape, so I highly recommend doing the same strip test on the thinnest skin of your chest, same as you’d do with TransTape. I don’t know the specific adhesives used by each company, but I recommend doing a strip test even if you’ve already done it with TransTape, or if you’re buying a new brand of kinesiology tape. I know people who have had skin irritation with TransTape but none with KT Tape, and vice versa. It’s always best to be sure before causing rashes and skin tearing over your entire chest.

Traditional Binders

Underworks

Price: $32.99 (tri-top)

Wearability: Very good, fairly comfortable

Binding: Very good compression, seen recommended up to H cup.

Purchase Options: US based. White, black, and pale beige skin color. Size XS-3X available. (XS: 28-30″, 3X: 49-52″)

Risks: All the risks of traditional binding—back pain, breathing constriction, pain from wearing the wrong size.

I, of course, remember the old days when people warned against Underworks and touted GC2B as the best binder on the market. Those days are long past, however—and Underworks binders have become one of the most recommended brands. The company and its binders are primarily geared toward cis men with gynecomastia, but include trans folks in their descriptions. (In my opinion, the cis male models of their binders do a bit to boost gender euphoria, but that might just be me). Underworks binders are comfortable and tend to be good at compression, depending on the one you get (tri-top seems to be the best at compression, but others are looser and more comfortable.) Underworks binders also have a lower neckline than some other binders, so if you often wear shirts with lower necklines that’s definitely a plus. The main downsides are that their binders only come in three colors, their only skin tone being a pale beige, and they do not carry sizes over 3X. The company is also not queer-run.

See the full post

126 notes - Posted September 18, 2022

#3

i can't even participate in proship discourse anymore cos none of y'all even know what proship means lmao

"proship is when problematic ship" actually no that is...nope. that's not what it means. the 'pro' bit is the prefix that means "in favor of, supporting, etc." it' is not short for problematic. proship just means pro-shipping; it just means you support everyone's right to ship whatever they ship, even if it makes you uncomfortable or whatever. it means you don't think people should be harassed and doxxed for ships.

like, in the end, there are a lot of reasons people ship different things, and its not my business whether it's for trauma processing (which is really fucking important, actually) or because they're using fiction as a safe way to explore fucked up shit, or because fucked up dynamics just mean very different things in fiction than they do irl because fiction is not reality. there are a lot of ships that personally make me uncomfy, but if i don't like something, i just block people. i click away. and that's why i consider myself proship. because they can do their thing, over in their corner, so long as I can do my thing over in mine.

and like this isn't meant to make any of you change your minds or anything, because i know a lot of you still won't agree with this. but i keep seeing young fans spreading the idea that "proship" means "problematic ship" and it's just frustrating to see.

271 notes - Posted June 4, 2022

#2

perks of being disabled and unemployed: can nap. like. all the time. SO many naps. little bit sleepy at ten in the morning? nap. eyes starting to droop while doing some silly little hobby? nap! want to make some bread but dont have quite enough spoons yet? nap!!

downsides of being disabled and unemployed: unimaginable boredom. all the time. constantly bored. you've got a list of shows to watch but you're tired of watching shows. a list of books to read but brain fog prevents you from just picking them up and reading them. so many video games in the steam library but somehow the thought of playing any of them is exhausting. also. no money :(

435 notes - Posted May 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

so tired of the insistence that bottom growth is Scary and Bad. i've heard so many people thinking about going on testosterone but deciding not to solely because they don't want bottom growth because they've heard so much shit about it.

like, dude. it's not that bad. it doesn't even hurt for most people. idk where the hell that idea even came from, tbh. you want the truth? it's a bit tingly for a week, there's a weird ass sensation of just being Aware that it's Growing for a month or two, and then it's super easy to ignore. obviously there are gonna be people who have more pain than others, people who have outies so they gotta be more careful about the seam of their pants, but it's genuinely not as scary and bad as people like to make it out to be.

it's not like you're growing a whole entire dick. it'll just be like, 1-3cm on average unless you pump.

it's ok not to want it. but i feel like there's a lot of exaggeration being spread about the symptoms and results bc not enough people talk about it. i don't even notice it most of the time (after a year on T). do yall wanna know the part of T that was genuinely painful? THE VOICE DROP. feels like you've got a sore throat for ages. totally worth it, ofc, but stock up on cough drops and try not to overexert your voice while it's going through the initial drop.

and since i'm here, remember to clean under the hood if you do have bottom growth. that's another thing i never see people talking about.

end PSA. have a great day

2,903 notes - Posted April 27, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[pochipop]

oh my god i just read your “what am i to you” genshin hc and I literally fell in love with your writing, if you’re not busy i was wondering if you can do a pt.2 where the genshin men finally came into terms with their feelings?? (Feel free to ignore this if you have too muck work to do!!) you’re an amazing writer and im looking forward to more of your works <33

＃GENSHIN IMPACT !! ♡ — COMING TO TERMS WITH THEIR FEELINGS.

#. synopsis! — they think it over and finally give you an answer .

#. characters! —kaeya, diluc, childe .

#. warnings! — mild angst .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. part I! — you can find the first post of the inciting prompt of 'asking "what am i to you?"' : here .

𖦹. ━ KAEYA !!

A couple weeks trickle by, and you've mostly come to terms with an inevitable outcome of emotional limbo. You love Kaeya, and he doesn't know what he wants in this life, —maybe he doesn't really know what it feels like to be loved like this, or to love someone else in turn. Life returns to semi-normalcy, where you don't ask and he doesn't tell. It weighs heavy on your heart sometimes, but a part of you knows you'd rather have him here filling in the gaps than never see him again and have him leave you lonely. This is a battle you're willing to lose if it means he'll still look towards you fondly.

He's a good friend, —always has been. Reliable, charming, fairly easy to please, all of that and more wrapped up in a neatly groomed package. He's not perfect by any means, but nobody is, and Kaeya does his best to adapt to any situation he finds himself in. This one might be a little lost on him, though, not that you can really blame him. In all fairness you dropped a bomb on him from out of nowhere expecting some sort of happy ending from the courage alone, and when that didn't pan out. . . Well, maybe that outcome was simply more likely from the beginning anyhow. You blame yourself for getting your hopes up so high.

Slowly but surely, your heart settles. Many say that time heals wounds, and you begin to think that there's some truth to that in the weeks that come, —each day soothing you little by little. Kaeya is still somewhat distant, but that comes as no surprise to you. It's only natural that some things have changed now that he knows how you really feel, and you know. . . Very little about his feelings in return. His heart has always been hidden behind strong, soaring walls, after all. You knew that much from the very beginning.

"Sara!" You call out to her with a smile, "I managed to get all the ingredients you asked for, —even freshly gathered fowl for smoking!"

"Really?" Her scarlet eyes light up a bit, "That's lovely. I wasn't expecting everything all in one go, but I guess I shouldn't have expected anything less from you."

Her smile is warm and comforting. It fills you with a sense of pride when she examines your ingredients and comments on the sublime quality.

"I can't believe you carried all of this here by yourself and didn't crack a single egg!" She gushes, "—thank you for the help, I really appreciate it! I don't know what I would have done without you!"

"Don't mention it!" You smile. "It was no trouble at all! I'm trying to keep busy these days anyway."

Being productive leaves little room for self-pity, which is the last thing you need. You know well enough how to care for yourself in this state of mind, and being sedentary wouldn't benefit you in the slightest.

"Oh!" Sara says suddenly, as if a lightbulb had gone off over her head. "You saying that reminds me! Captain Kaeya stopped by just a little while ago and left this for you."

She rummages around under the counter for a moment before pulling an envelope out from under. Your heart lurches.

"He mentioned that you've been busy lately and that it was hard to track you down. I hope that isn't on my account, —rest is important!" Sara notes as she hands the envelope over to you.

You assure her that it's nothing of the sort, escaping the situation as soon as possible in order to tear into the letter that you know is hiding inside. Giving her another smile and a quick wave goodbye, you turn the corner and break into a desperate sprint, moving quickly until you cross the Mondstadt bridge completely and find yourself a secluded spot to sit beneath a tree. Your heart hammers in anticipation.

I haven't seen you much these days, Kaeya writes. I hope you've been well. I'm ashamed for not having asked in person. I'm also ashamed that I haven't had the courage to approach you properly after what happened between us. I've been telling myself for days now that I'm going to move forward and make a serious move to bare my truths for you, but something inside has been holding me back, so I'm writing this now to avoid the calamity. If you will, please meet me by Starfell Lake at dusk. If you choose not to come, I understand. But I'd really like to see you there.

Sincerely,

— Kaeya.

The bottom of the letter is folded, and you pull it down to reveal a pressed sweet flower. The yellow of its petals is so vibrant. . . You let out a shaky breath as you weigh your options

—

In the end, you go to him. If nothing else you're in need of a proper rejection to truly begin the final stages of the healing process, and at least to some degree, you've made peace with every possible scenario you could think up. At the very least, this meeting with Kaeya will give you closure.

He looks like some kind of prince from a distance, waiting under a drunken moon for you. The crystalline waters of Starfell Lake glimmer like the surface is jewel encrusted. This feels too good to be true, —like a mirage that you're waiting to see ripped apart before your eyes, or a dream you're just waiting to wake up from.

"Hi, Kaeya," you approach him cautiously, hoping to avoid startling him.

"Y/n," he gives you a lopsided smile, "—you came."

"It was only fair. You listened to me when I had something important to say, and now it's my turn. So, whatever you need to get off your chest, I'm here to listen," you reply.

He takes a breath before he says anything further.

"I. . .” He pauses, wracking his mind for the right words, “I wish I knew how to say this in a way that would make it everything you’re hoping for it to be. And I’m sorry that I don’t. I brought you here thinking the atmosphere might help make up for that, but now I. . . I don’t know. Maybe there’s nothing to fill that.”

You swallow nervously, listening closely. He’s being painfully vague, but this is as close to vulnerable as you’ve ever really seen him. You fear that anything you say might destroy the balance here that’s already threatening to implode in a second.

“It’s just that I’ve been thinking a lot, and no matter what I do, my thoughts always draw back to you. It’s been like that for a long time, actually. . . I just didn’t know what to make of it. Or maybe I did know, and I was just scared of what those feelings represented. So I pushed them away, I pushed you away, and I also tried to keep you close. Arms length sometimes, and then closer, then farther away. And none of that was fair to you,” he acknowledges.

Maybe you’re just too soft-hearted, but you can’t manage to be angry with him. Not when he’s so far outside his comfort zone, using every ounce of his courage to be honest, even when the truth isn’t as pretty as he’d like it to be.

“Even now, I feel like I’m just talking to fill the silence so you don’t get too close,” Kaeya admits, but in direct contrast, he chooses to step toward you.

“A part of me wants to keep pushing you away so I don’t have to acknowledge anything. But I know I can’t hide from this forever, and even more, that I’ll regret it if I do.”

As you listen carefully, he reaches out; warm hand grasping hold of yours. Despite his cryo vision, he’s always so warm. His touch is calming, —reassuring in the way that his thumb draws along the ridges of your knuckles. You’re not sure it’ll do much good, but you squeeze his hand softly.

“Anything you say, I’ll respect it,” you whisper.

Tears well in his visible eye. The moonlight hits him just right, glistening off the wetness. He sniffles softly, as if nobody else in the world has ever told him that no matter what he chooses, they won’t hate him. Maybe nobody ever has, and the thought of it guts you.

As he opens his mouth, you see his bottom lip quiver. Before you can think twice, you’ve raised your hand to match the sharp curve of his jaw and the plush of his cheek. He meets your gaze in a way he’s never really done so before, and you get a glimpse at all the broken pieces inside him. You don’t know what caused them, or even if you can meld them back together, but all you want is for Kaeya to know that he doesn’t have to do so alone. Friend, lover, or anything in between, you want to be there for him to help him see this through.

“I can’t make you any grand promises,” he musters up a sad smile, “but I love you, and I want to be with you. . . And I hope that’s enough.”

It is.

𖦹. ━ DILUC !!

When Diluc has someone fetch you, summoning you to the tavern, you feel your heart sink low into the pit of your stomach. It’s only been a few days since the instigating conversation, and through it all, you hadn’t even managed to catch a glimpse of him in passing. That in itself wasn’t the most unusual thing, since Diluc largely prefers to work alone and seemingly has no vested interests in socializing like most people. Still, it makes you uneasy, and as you make your way to the tavern, you feel anxiety swim through your veins freely like fish to the open seas.

Chilly winds nip at your skin as you approach the wooden door, —and you knock lightly on the splintering boards, uncertain as to whether it was open. It seems much less lively this evening. It’s usually packed on nights when Diluc tends the bar since everyone has much praise for his skills in the position. They all say he makes the best drinks. You’ve only had a few drinks made by Diluc, but you’re inclined to agree.

“Come in,” you hear his unmistakable voice call out to you, and you do, albeit nervously.

Frankly, this just isn’t how you thought things would play out. Out of all the places you thought this conversation would happen, the tavern never really crossed your mind. . . But, you can’t say it shocks you. Diluc is pragmatic, and he did say that he wouldn’t make you wait any longer than what was necessary for him to work through his feelings. Maybe the suddenness of it all is just a reflection of his promise, much as the unconventional location.

As you step inside, you quickly realize that you’re the only person there, —aside from Diluc himself, of course. All of the seats are barren, and the bar doesn’t seem as if it’s been used.

“Good evening,” he says, —a greeting he would likely give to any other patron of the tavern.

“Good evening,” you parrot, questions playing on the tip of your tongue.

You can’t find the courage to ask them now. Everything feels oddly peaceful, despite your personal, internal qualms, and for one odd reason or another, you’d like to keep it that way. The atmosphere is bittersweet, much like Diluc himself. As you think that, you bite back a giggle.

“Take a seat,” he requests, gesturing to one of the stools in front of him. “I’ll mix you a drink. On the house, of course.”

“Alright,” you nod, doing as he says.

All of this feels strange, but you don’t see why obliging him would do any harm. It doesn’t hurt you to be this close to him, a countertop away from his arms. It’s always been like this. . . Maybe you’re much more used to it than you ever realized, and that revelation comes as an almost comforting sadness.

You watch passively as Diluc makes a drink for you. It doesn’t seem to be anything complicated, but you catch a sweet scent from the ingredients. He moves like this is something he’s been doing for the entirety of his life, never missing a beat. . . Like a machine. It dawns on you that Diluc has always been a little robotic, even from the very first time you crossed paths. In the beginning, his bluntness wasn’t always welcome, but as you grew to know him, it became consolatory. If nothing else, you knew that Diluc would never be the one to comfort you with lies.

In the midst of your reminiscing, he slides a cup across the counter to you. The liquid inside is a bright, cheerful color; a yellowy-orange that kisses the rim gently. Your gaze flickers from the drink to Diluc.

“What is this?” You ask, bringing it to your lips for a sip.

“A Gray Valley Sunset,” he answers, “—simple fruit punch.”

It hits your tongue with a sweet, tangy flavor. There’s no layers to the taste, and you have to admit that it’s painfully fitting for someone like him. What you see is what you get.

“I like it,” you smile softly.

“I’m glad,” he replies, making his way from around the bar to where you sit, taking a seat right beside you.

“When I was young, my father had me mix a drink for him,” Diluc begins, and you resign yourself to listening, taking small sips of the drink he prepared for you as you do so.

“No details, no instructions. . . He just laid ingredients out and told me to make something. Looking back, I think he just wanted to test my creativity, —see what I could come up with. In the end, I made a glass of fruit punch not much unlike that,” he gestures to the cup in your hand.

The fact that he made this drink for you now warms your heart. Even if he’s served thousands of them ordered from the tavern menu by now, you feel like this glass is special.

“Back then, I was young. Innocent. And though I thought I’d grown up long ago, your words the other night threw me so off balance that I felt I’d regressed to that little child again for the very first time.”

A chord of guilt strikes at your heartstrings.

“For the first time in a long while, I didn’t know how to fix something. I didn’t know how to make this better. I’ve thought about it ever since that night, and I’d love to say that I have all the answers now, but the truth is that I. . . Feel lost when it comes to this. Like the ending point is always moving, and I don’t know how to reach it in time,” Diluc goes on.

You want to say something, but you don’t know what. You also don’t want to interrupt this moment, where Diluc is showing you both strength and bravery in the form of unadulterated vulnerability.

“So, to compensate, I brought you here,” he offers up a barely-there smile that’s laced with sadness, but all the emotions reach his eyes for what feels like the very first time.

“Making drinks is like second nature to me by now. I know I can manage that. I wanted to take small steps this time, —thinking maybe slower strides would win the race for me. I made you a drink, and then I took a leap, and I told you a little story about me and my past that you’ve never heard before. Bridging the gap, I guess,” he lets himself laugh, though it sounds a bit bitter to you.

“I really appreciate that,” you finally speak up, “—truly.”

His gaze locks on yours, unblinking. This is an expression you never thought you’d get to see on Diluc’s face. . . Almost childlike, but endearingly so.

“I appreciate you listening,” he reaches out, placing a large hand on your knee.

“And if I may, I’d like to tell you something else before you go home.”

“Of course,” you nod, “I’m all ears.”

All ears, and all heart; throbbing in your chest like it’s thirty seconds from bursting.

“I don’t know what way is right or wrong with these kinds of things,” he elaborates, “but for you, I’ll do it all. Whatever you need. I’m poor with words, but I hope my actions can speak for me going forward. . . If you’ll have me, I want to love you.”

You cover the hand resting on your knee with your own, giving him a sheepish smile as you fight tears. If you speak, your voice is sure to crack, so you settle for a nod.

𖦹. ━ CHILDE !!

Childe has been gone for quite some time now. Where he went, you haven’t the faintest clue. . . You rarely do. It’s just how he is, —swift as the winds of Mondstadt. He lives and breathes by his own rules, plays by unconventional means, and you love him not in spite of it all, but because of it. Maybe there’s something to be said about the unhearable, something to be felt in the untouchable, that Childe embodies all too well. He’s the wild that exists within us all, emerging from the darkness and living in the light with reckless abandon.

He’s enchanting, for better or worse.

There’s a certain enticement that comes from the chase. But Childe is likely chasing fairytales, and you’re chasing him, which might as well be the same thing, you suppose. Even now, as you sit below a starry sky alone, you know it’s almost foolish. He never promised you anything, and yet here you are, waiting for him like a worm on a hook, wriggling around below the water in hopes a fish might be intrigued enough to take a bite.

A sigh escapes your lips as you watch the sky, clouds drifting slowly along the inky expanse above. It’s the third night in a row. He could be a thousand miles away for all you know, but this spot makes you feel close to him, —makes you wonder if he’s out there right now, looking up at the same sky, thinking about you too.

You think about the way he looks at you, curious and calm, like you’re interesting and he wants to know all of what goes on inside your mind. But he never asks.

“Y/n?” His voice rings out from behind you, sending a shockwave through your body.

As you turn around, you half-expect for no one to be there. It wouldn’t have been the first time you heard his voice echo through your mind in a way that felt just a smidge too real. This time is different, though. There he stands with a surprised expression, a few small cuts littering the skin of his face.

“C-Childe,” you breathe, an equally shocked look painting your own face in turn, “what are you doing here? And where have you been?”

It’s the first time you’ve asked. Before, all you needed to know was that he was away, and that he was back now. For how long, who knows, but he was there in the moment, and that’s what counted. Now, however, everything feels like it’s changed, and you’d do anything to know all the details of his expeditions, —you’d give the world to see the world through his eyes.

“I could ask you the same,” he replies, slipping that mask back on.

Not literally, of course, but figuratively. That mask he wears, charming and slick, suave enough to win your heart, but not enough to keep it. No, the mask doesn’t set you aflame. He does. The real face of Childe that he covers as to not let those he encounters know that he too has feelings, and dreams of unattainable things.

“It’s late,” he adds, “shouldn’t you be home?”

You shrug.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you answer plainly, but your heart is racing in the cavern of your chest, and all you want to do is hold him close and let his warmth sink into you. “And I like it here. It’s calming.”

It feels empty when I’m alone, though, you think; but don’t dare to say it.

Even if you don’t, Childe looks at you like he knows what’s written on the tip of your tongue, —like he can taste it without ever having kissed you. He does that often, and now, you just wish he’d do it if for nothing more than confirmation.

“Well, I’m not complaining,” he notes, taking his place beside you on the grass.

Now that he’s closer, you can see his wounds better. By no means are they serious, but dried blood litters their outlines, and you can’t stop yourself from reaching out to touch his face gently. He doesn’t complain or look at you with confusion in his eyes. His face remains lax as you examine him, —not just the wounds, but him. He’s incredibly beautiful, with eyes that sparkle like noctilius jade.

“You could have cleaned them at the very least,” you mumble, hand parting from his cheek.

Before it falls to your side, he’s grasping at your wrist; motions defying his relaxed body language. He holds your wrist with the same intensity that he wields swords of water and aims to shoot his bow, but softer, —much softer, and a million times more affectionate.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” he whispers. “I was getting used to the idea of someone caring enough to do it in the first place.”

Your lips part as your eyes widen slightly, but you say nothing.

“I don’t want to mislead you. I’m not some prince, or a knight in shining armor. . . I get high off risks and sometimes, I might not be here when you need me. I won’t always be around to help you pick up the pieces after a hard day,” Childe says.

“I can’t promise you the universe, and I can’t bring you the stars in a bottle. I can’t give you everything you’ve ever wished for, and I won’t give you hope by making false claims to you that I know I can’t uphold. In truth, I don’t really know what it is that I can offer. . . All I really know is that I’ll love you, and I’ll do it like the world is ending if you give me the chance.”

You hadn’t been expecting that, but you can’t say it’s surprising. When it comes to him, you’ve never really known what to expect at all, not ever. It’s not stability that’s drawn you to Childe all this time. Security isn’t what you seek, —at least not right now. At this point in your life, you’re not looking for someone to give you empty promises and vow to give you the galaxy in the palm of your hand. You just want to know he’d seek you if reality was collapsing.

No need for goodbyes, just a million hellos.

[betweenlands]

Hi! We can explain -- we're actually the person(s) that coordinated the Ghost's Gambit! TL;DR: nobody talked about the fraud, everyone knew about the fraud, and we had a very specific plan. And also if you're looking to find out where this insanity came from we always have MCYTer recs.

If you've read some of our essays, you might know that we've been paying attention to every single round of the bracket -- so we'd been paying attention to Pandora rounds even when she won handily against her other opponents. This meant we noticed some patterns, and when someone asked if voter fraud was on the table we noticed Pandora suddenly surge ahead of the Ghost’s Vault, more or less reversing the ratio for that morning, and figured that voter fraud was in fact afoot.

So! Two facts about us that some followers will already know: we're a former Blaseball fan (we're wearing our team's bomber jacket as we write this right now), and also we are Just Like This. It's not the first time we've coordinated some ridiculous effort involving data gathering and careful planning. That's our whole thing -- I think last time this happened it was for something on Legundo’s server, actually. Operation Full House was a blast.

Anyway, if you know anything about Blaseball -- fan coordination around voting is a whole Thing. It's insanely specialized in this way, in fact, so we have prior experience. We were also around for the original MCYTblr Sexyman Bracket, and had struck up some alliances in other fandoms around that time.

So, the patterns -- for obvious reasons, nobody likes to push super hard when they're winning. It feels bad to totally ratio someone when they're super enthusiastic about their own build, especially in semifinals. When I was coordinating teams for voter fraud, I gave instructions to a bunch of them -- "do it slowly, so it doesn't look like we're frauding, and save your energy for the last day."

Then Viking and Legs found out. For those of you not tuned in to Dominion or Skyblock Kingdoms fandom them suddenly shouting WE'RE GONNA DO LORE might’ve been a shock, but the thing is that those two are literally just like that. They'll "do lore" anyway. The only thing that was mildly surprising was Legs saying he'd release the Nights puzzle solution -- though I think he might’ve been planning to do that anyway, this just incentivized it? Point is, more folks got brought in from that and all of a sudden we were in the lead too early.

I was having fun but I was worried y'all were going to catch on to the counterfraud too soon, so when we dropped from the lead the various fraud teams got new info: keep the Vault votes at around 48.5% and wait for further instructions. It's at this moment I pulled a full Technoblade and started paying attention to timezones, and I figured the last few hours of the bracket were the perfect time to make a comeback. Not a lot of new votes would be coming in -- you'd be in the lead, and you'd be asleep.

Everyone on the fraud teams got new instructions -- push very slowly back up to 48-49%, making it seem like we're too exhausted to fight back, and then go all out in the last two hours. This was coupled with an attempt at total radio silence on the Tumblr end; by this point propaganda didn't matter as much, just frauding, and if nobody reblogged the post saying something about the Vault then nobody with post notifications on would see that we were pushing.

We woke up at 6am and hit the ground running, along with telling everyone else on another team that it was time to go -- the ghosts were here. Instructions were now to go as hard as possible and to keep pushing even if we were in the lead, anticipating pushback -- we figured this would give us just enough of a margin before you could counter us that we'd be totally unstoppable. I put on some video game guitar music (the Wizard With A Gun OST slams, by the way) and got to work, and so did our friends and allies, including one Fluffy Netherite Block Shulker Papaya.

Wait, who? Netherite blocks?

@fluffy-papaya is one of our beloved partners and coauthors, and the thing about Fluffy is they are a grindset madman. Last time we were on a server together they decided to get an entire shulker full of netherite blocks for no reason other than that they could. It took them like a month.

Over the course of the poll, Fluffy cast anywhere from around 300 to 500 fraud votes, pretty much singlehandedly keeping our margins alive. No automation; they did this by hand in their spare time alongside a couple of their IRLs going significantly slower. When we went all out in the final hours, the vote surged not only due to the Ghost's Gambit but also because Fluffy was no longer holding back.

So. In the Blaseball fandom there's technically a term for stealing a wanted blessing at the last minute, though Blaseball voting works via lottery picks and it's a bit different. It's called a wimdy (long story, but yes it does come from that dog meme saying "it frickin wimdy") and, with sincere apologies, you did in fact get wimdy'd. The more accessible term would be that you got Potato Warred. (It could've been worse! We wrote an 11 page document with 11 more pages of supplemental intel for OFH. We are literally just like this.)

The thing is, I can't speak for anyone else, but the Ghost’s Gambit was mostly coordinated in its nascent form before a lot of the bribes came into play. Dominion fandom adores the Ghost’s Vault; it's an iconic location with so much history and nostalgia and a lot of us wanted nothing more than to show the force of that adoration. As a friend joked -- of course it's a prison, this is where all the fans have been stuck for the past two years! More than anything, this was just a great excuse to offer teasers for various projects -- I got to write a miniupdate for the longform Dominion/100 Days Multiverse fic I'd been working on with Fluffy, @autisticlalna got to preview his insanely cool dViking PMV, a couple people got back to working on stuff like animatics as well. (Yeah the Nights puzzle is cool but have you seen Leo's art.) This was an act of getting silly with it, having an excuse to be creative along the way, and making sure that, win or lose, we'd be remembered.

Finally, as we mentioned in the TLDR -- if anyone ever wants to check out Dominion, or Viking’s current server Skyblock Kingdoms, feel free to ask us or just generally ask around for POV recommendations! Dominion may never have gotten a finale, but it still has a lot of fascinating characters to unpack (Piglin Legundo..........) and VODs that contain an entire second arc and full wrap-up streams. Skyblock Kingdoms is actively ongoing and has been going crazy hard on the storytelling front -- custom music, art assets, animations, callbacks to other series, Avid commissioned a four minute long animated music video to one of his songs for a key lore segment. It's super cool and I would especially recommend it to anyone who enjoyed Tales From The SMP; if you're interested in Avid specifically, @fallow-foot and I even put together this playlist that incorporates his miniseries that leads into SBK directly into the watchflow! It's a blast.

Alright, I think that's about it. GGs on a close fight, and we're looking forward to seeing y'all in the finales! Please no voter fraud this time though, I just want to watch the bell noises blondes duke it out over lore.

This is a fraction of what I cast (I won't say my estimate of what my final total was, but it's...not a small number). I only saved 20 in a row bc it sounded funny to have that as proof of my exploits.

I'd love to know what method Dominion peeps came up with to snatch the ground out from under us so hard in an hour and a halfish. We were up by 3-4% before whatever madness y'all cooked up was deployed-- I'm dying to know what sort of coordination and occurred for that to happen!

I love voter fraud p2

[amaranthineoceans]

Everything Weird About Deltarune!

Spoiler Warning for Undertale and Both Chapters of Deltarune! Really! I Literally Go Through Everything I Can Remember About Them!

This is a long post so get comfortable. Also note that my brain doesn't process thoughts into words very well so some of these might not be worded in the best way. :)

Deltarune. The first teaser chapter was released on October 31, 2018, and it came out of nowhere. We've all gone through this, but I'll try and go through every single painstaking detail I can remember. Feel free to reblog and add/correct things.

The weirdness begins right off the bat. The title is an anagram of UNDERTALE. We all know Toby likes to use anagrams when he wants to indirectly tell us when things are related, so it's no surprise that when you go to download DELTARUNE, it warns you that the game is designed for people who have played UNDERTALE. You think, "Cool, so it's a sequel? Or maybe a prequel? A different perspective of UNDERTALE perhaps?" You were wrong; so terribly, terribly wrong! I'll elaborate on this later.

Before you download the application, the terms of service that you must agree to beforehand reads simply and plainly, "You accept everything that will happen from now on." This detail was kinda brushed off in the beginning, because, hey, it's Toby Fox. He does weird stuff all the time. But even in the first chapter, it's apparent that the concept of choice, or more accurately, the lack of it, is a very present theme in the game. I would like to remind you that Toby has announced that there will be one ending in the game. One. I'll elaborate on this later.

The program (as in, what the game is called in your files) is named SURVEY PROGRAM. Why not just call it Deltarune like it is when you download chapter two?

The game launches you, without a title screen, without any setting adjustment options, straight into a reference to the theme of the entire franchise: the lack of choice. A strange formless voice guides you through "making a vessel", with what we know now as a fountain in the background. You have the option to make some very disturbing choices in this character creator, such as making its favorite flavor "pain" or expressing your feelings about it with options such as "fear" and "disgust." You name your "creation," tell the formless voice your name (which is different from your vessel's name) and watch as said formless voice muses over your name at an agonizing pace. It thanks you for your time and tells you that your wonderful creation, (cue music cutout and background removal) will now be discarded. "No one can choose who they are in this world." The screen slowly turns white as the voice says, "Your... name... is..."

It gets weirder. The next scene appears from the whiteness and showcases Toriel calling "Kris" out of bed. Kris' area of the room is very bare in contrast to the other side, which we later discover is Asriel's.

It's Toriel. Why is Toriel here?

Kris is kind of an anagram of Frisk (the protagonist of UNDERTALE) but without the F. I highly doubt this is a coincidence.

Speaking with Noelle is the only reason you can proceed (see what i did there?) while finding a partner in the classroom. This means you can't go through the 1st chapter without knowing who she is. Is it because of the Snowgrave route?

Ralsei is just suspicious to me. There's no way he was just waiting in that castle his whole life alone without some mental toil. So either he's insane or he wasn't alone the whole time. What happened? Is it related to how he can close his eyes and see what Susie is going through when she's apart from the party? Was he just watching everything? Is he related to the formless voice?

Susie's icon is the only one without color in the Dark World.

Jevil's fight is more difficult than Sans'.

Your actions have little consequence in the first chapter. If you choose to go genocide, the only difference in the ending is being run out of the kingdom, and this doesn't carry over to the next chapter. Again, lack of choice, people.

If at the end of chapter one, you walk around town, it's mentioned (notably by Noelle) that you're usually not this talkative. If you go to the hospital and speak with the receptionist, they mention that you used to play the piano in the corner. If you decide to attempt to play the said piano, an out-of-key bash can be heard and the receptionist comments on how you used to play beautifully. If you try this in chapter two, the result is the same. All this is confirmation that Kris is acting noticeably weird.

When you leave the Dark World and walk around town, you can find Sans. He "pretends" to recognize you, and if you tell him you recognize him, he tells you it's funny, considering that you two have never met before. He winks. I'm pretty sure he knows that the player is there.

The mention of Papyrus in both games, but the purposeful lack of him. Like he's avoiding you.

If you go upstairs while inside Asgore's flower shop, there are flowers in glass cases resembling his SOUL collection in UNDERTALE. There's a red flower.

You can't enter the church.

The clock in the storage closet shows a different time than all the others in the school.

If you go all the way south in town and into the woods, the music stops and you come across a rusty, double door is in a hill covered in crass. It's locked. If you go this way in chapter two, however, you watch a cutscene where you and susie happen to find Monster Kid from UNDERTALE (or someone resembling them) and an owl kid in front of the door. The owl kid is pressuring Monster Kid to (presumably) break inside, telling them that they don't want to be a wimp like Kris. Does this imply that Kris is connected to this strange door somehow?

The ending. You know what I'm talking about.

Did Kris actually rip out the SOUL (I say "the" because I'm not entirely sure it's Kris') and knife because they wanted to eat the pie? Did they only eat the pie because Toriel caught them?

Why did they look at the player? Are they sick of being controlled? Is that why they freaked out after the Spamton fight? (later)

Anyway, now we're at chapter two.

DELTARUNE Chapter Two was released on September 17th, 2021. 17. Entry Number 17. Sound familiar?

Asriel's part of the room is different from the last chapter. I don't think this means anything sinister, but I think it means Kris notices different things about the room as the story progresses. My theory is that it will become more sinister in each chapter.

Ralsei getting super excited to see Susie and Kris after a day. As in he has separation anxiety and it breaks my heart. not anything suspicious but it makes me sad so it's on the list.

Kris and Susie's rooms. Ralsei REALLY doesn't want them to leave. Seriously get this boy a therapist. Or a stuffed animal. SOMETHING.

Kris having to gather everything from the storage closet so that people appear in the Dark World????? Why??????????????? They had to do the same thing for the computer lab too.

The golden door. I don't trust it.

How/why the heck did Noelle and Berdley go into the Computer Lab Dark World? I don't see either of them just walking into pulsing void doors without Susie.

Apparently the knight has been gone for a bit and can corrupt people's minds? The king in the first chapter doesn't seem like he can be redeemed but Queen just seems,,, not bad, but a little crazy. I wonder what happened.

Then again, name ONE person in this franchise without trauma.

Spamton.

Horror doesn't bother me. Spamton? Spamton bothers me.

SPAMTON. ENOUGH SAID.

A Kromer is a type of hat invented in the '70s. Nobody named Mike is associated with it, that I can find.

SPAMPTON. HOW DO I EVEN DESCRIBE IT.

HIS SONG IS THE ONLY ONE WITH WORDS.

The way he asks Kris is they want to be a heart on a chain their whole life. Like, dude, no wonder they were screaming after the fight.

WHERE DID THE YELLOW HEART COME FROM. YELLOW MEANS JUSTICE. WHY DOES JUSTICE APPLY.

Kris screaming after the fight and the player not being able to hear it. Don't you dare tell me that's just how the game is designed. There are sound effects characters make throughout the game. None that I can think of apply to Kris, apart from when they rip their soul out.

Ralsei brushing off the Spamton fight. Either that's his coping mechanism or he was trying to shut Susie and Kris up to protect them from... something. I'll touch on that in a minute.

According to Queen, DETERMINATION is a key factor in creating a fountain.

Also according to Queen, Kris, Noelle, and Susie all have DETERMINATION SOULS.

Ralsei freaking out about Berdley making a fountain implies that he may also have DETERMINATION. Why I'm bringing all this up will make sense soon.

How was Noelle able to cast Snowgrave... a spell that she, according to her, didn't know?

The Snowgrave route is so twisted.

You manipulate Noelle into killing Berdley and then, when you get back to the computer lab and investigate his corpse, the text box says that he doesn't seem to be awake. As if you're in denial?

Burgerpants recognizes you. Not Kris. As in the player.

The ending. I don't think I need to describe it. Kris is very methodical without the SOUL. (I say "the" because, again, I'm not 100% convinced it's theirs.) I'm saying this about how they left clues that someone broke into the This proves that they are NOT a mindless, vengeful husk.

HOW DID THEY MAKE THE FOUNTAIN WITHOUT THE SOUL INSIDE OF THEM. DID THEY FEED THE SOUL TO IT AFTERWARDS? IS THAT WHAT THAT WAS?

Another point I would like to make is my theory that Ralsei knows much more than he would have us believe. I might put this into a different post because I have yet to gather my points into a coherent bullet point list, so keep an eye out for that.

Anyway apart from Toriel and Susie being VERY heavy sleepers, I think I've gone through everything. I have a few theories.

1. Kris is possessed by the player and figured out that they could make a fountain from Queen and related to Spamton freaking out about freedom. They then decided to make a fountain going by the logic that "this would tick the player off." This is one of my top theories that assumes that the SOUL is theirs.

And 2. Kris is possessed by both the player and the knight. I think the formless voice at the very beginning of the game is the knight, and they somehow needed the player to possess someone with DETERMINATION. If so, then why Kris? We know from Queen that Noelle and Susie, and maybe even Berdley also have DETERMINATION. The most plausible thing I can think of is the fact that human souls are stronger than monster ones.

I do think that the popular theory (about the one that suggests that the Dark Word is nothing but a figment of a child's imagination, and the events that occur in said Dark World are simply children playing with toys) has been thoroughly dashed due to Berdley's murder in the genocide route of the second chapter. Unless he's not dead. Regardless, how the events (or lack thereof) that occur in the second chapter play through the next will be interesting, especially considering Toby's announcement about how there will be one ending to the game. So either Berdley isn't dead, or he will be.

Aaaand I think that's it! Sorry for the long post; let me know your thoughts and if I missed anything!

[strawberry-nugget]

𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙄 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪 | E. Kirishima/ Reader/ K. Bakugo

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 1

𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨: after weeks of Bakugo distancing himself from you and Kirishima you finally get the chance to talk out what happened the other day, one thing leads to another and...

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, thr*esome, oral (f! and m! receiving), double penetration, fingering, p*ssy slapping, dacryphilia, all characters portrayed are over the age of 20

𝘼/𝙉: I'm so sorry this took me so long. I know this is 6.5k with little to no plot but I hope you enjoy this, hehe, thanks for all of the notes and amazing comments on the last one. I'll be reblogging in a few minutes with the tags in those who asked. Also. This is top Kirishima. Top top top top Kirishima.

It's been two weeks now that you and Bakugo exist in different timelines.

He's never home, lost in patrol after patrol, leaving a hot mess behind him in his room, belts, gear, his back up costume messily sprawled across his room -you guess he doesn't have enough time to clean everything up. Still, the rest of the apartment always looks inhabitable, save for the little mess you make in the kitchen when you cook; he never cleans what's supposed to be your task.

You feel yourself growing sadder every day. It's something Kirishima notices and informs you he feels as well, rooted deep in how Bakugo is treating the two of you ever since that night. And the worst part is you can't do anything about it. He doesn't return his phone calls nor does he ever pick up, and by now you've accepted that he purposely avoids being in the house with you. It hurts even more knowing that he and Kirishima see each other at work every day; at least he knows Katsuki is doing okay, though as he reports, he rarely ever talks more than patrol and business.

You only wonder why he acts the way he does, thinking you don't deserve to get ghosted over for what happened. He's your roommate and one of your best friends, whatever made him feel like he has the right to ghost you with such each is not going to go by so easily and you're not willing to wait it out anymore either.

Thus, this Thursday night you call in sick for work and emerge yourself in the bathtub after checking the clock. 7.25pm. It's still an hour until Katsuki is off his shift, which means you have plenty of time to do some self care. Shave your legs, scrub your whole body with your coconut scrub- anything to calm down that put of anxiety that's starting to boil in the pit of your stomach.

You fear for the worst. That Katsuki doesn't want to be your friend anymore, and losing him doesn't sit right with you. Not over just catching him masturbating once.

There's a ton of things you want to say, or ask him. The lingering thought of him liking Kirishima or you digs deep enough into your brain and plants itself there, getting comfortable right next to the thought of him being jealous of your relationship. Could this be it? Could he just be lonely? He never talks about meeting anyone or having sex -that must be it, he's lonely, that's all.

Your bath doesn't last for long because you're nervous and the water runs cold before you have the chance to enjoy yourself. Maybe it's time to start turning the heating on in the apartment and you curse yourself because you have to talk this out with Bakugo as well -fuck its hard to not live on your own when you have to make shared decisions with someone. To your stomach's turbulence dismay you can't get out of talking to Katsuki.

"No, I literally won't tell you where she is Bakugo"

Your heart skips a beat at the sound of the door unlocking and closing again, followed by your boyfriend's familiar voice. You don't make a single movement to exit the bathroom yet- you're frozen, opting to rest on top of the toilet cap until you hear Bakugo's reply, your gut falling into a muddy pit of panic.

"I swear to fucking god if you two are trapping me to talk about it"

Typically of him, he shouts, barking and chewing a few sounds of what he's saying. Kirishima knows he's all bark and no bite though, you're eager to figure out how he'll oppose him.

"She wants to talk to you, you can't just ghost her like that when you live with her" There's a long pause next "and you should have told me that you're in fucking love with her"

"What?" Katsuki exclaims

What?

"You think I'm an idiot? Or that I can't comprehend basic human behavior? I know how people who feel the way you do act"

"What are you even saying Kirishima? That I'm jealous?"

You blink feverously, trying to take in what you're listening to unfold in the other room. You know a part of you has been wishing that this scenario wasn't true.

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying. You should have told me you liked her in the beginning. I would have never made a move"

They bicker back and forth for a few minutes; Katsuki accusing and Eijiro defending, then switching back and forth before going silent. It's then that you think you should emerge from the bathroom. It feels wrong to not be part of this conversation when you're the reason for their bickering, but at this point the guilt in your stomach is rotting and polluting your insides.

With a sigh, you turn the doorknob and inhale deeply. You tell yourself you can do this. You have to do this, yet your eyes are filled with hot and salty tears as you approach the living room.

Both of them eye you simultaneously, pursed lips and hands crossed over their chests; the only relieving thing about this is that they're sitting next to each other on the couch, their calves slightly touching. You know they'll make up again, they always will, but you're scared you won't be able to be part of that make up. Not with the information that's been poured onto you.

"Hi" You whisper and despite being sure both of them heard you, they make no effort to open their mouths and talk back "I uhm" You clear your throat "I heard what you were ah saying"

"Course ya did" Katsuki growls "course ya fucking did"

"Baku- I-"

"Save it! I'm gonna-" He snaps and makes a move to get off the couch, though Eijiro has other plans; he slams him back down with just a push of his hand

The same hand that's extended to you, overlapping Katsuki's chest, wordlessly asking you to join them on the couch. Your heart warms up slightly. Kirishima always does his best to make you feel included, it's no surprise he's smiling at you when you take a seat next to the blond.

"You're not going anywhere Bakugo. And babe, you can speak now"

Though you smile nervously with your lips, your first word falls silent, in awe of a lung filling sigh. Then by the time you gather some thoughts together your chest is shivering and the tears that you managed to drown before are now threatening to spill from your eyes again.

Kirishima is watching you religiously, pouting as you throw your head to the opposite direction of his to let out a small sob. He tightens the grip of his hand around yours and barely notices Bakugo batting his eyes to that direction.

"Hey, no, don't cry"

"I just don't want to lose Bakugo because of this" you sob and Kirishima shoots a killer gaze at the blond, biting the inside of his lip.

"You're not losing anyone idiot" Bakugo says, clearing his throat, giving Kirishima a strained look as well

"Babe, don't worry, Bakugo and I will be fine, you and Bakugo will be fine"

You sob again, wiping a stream of tears that's falling from your eyes and Kirishima wastes no time on cupping your cheek after bullying Bakugo to do the same. A nice change, you think, two hands reaching out for your face, you could almost get used to this.

"Yeah, you're not losing me" Bakugo tries to soothe, though by Kirishima's demand he adds to his words "I- uhh, I might want you but this has nothing to do with us not being friends"

"Yeah?" You sniffle, looking up

"Yeah"

It's too soft how you're cuddled into their arms instantly, pulled on top of them to sit on both of their laps, held tightly in both of their embraces. You coo into their arms for a while, content when Kirishima kisses your cheek and sobbing faintly when Bakugo rubs your back in circles.

"Do you want a beer baby?" Kirishima asks, softly patting your back and kissing your nape as he leaves you clinging onto Bakugo. You nod into the crook of Bakugo's neck in reply and Kirishima smiles from the other side of the couch.

The sound of the fridge opening is timelines away from what's entering your mind. Is it wrong that you like that cuddle too much? And is it even more wrong that you want more? Bakugo feels nice when you're curling up onto his lap and Kirishima adds warmth and love into everything he's touching, you almost feel your thighs clench at the idea of where your mind's traveling to.

"What if we had a threesome?"

It's so faint when it comes out of your mouth that you're convinced there shouldn't be any loud reaction to it, though you hear the can of beer that's presumably in Kirishima's hand hit the floor, you feel Katsuki's hand freeze on your back. Both of them wonder if they've heard correctly, but never asking you to repeat it.

"A uhm.. Threesome?" Kirishima asks "you'd like that?"

"Yes"

You try to hide your face deeper into Bakugo's neck, but he doesn't seem to approve of it- he pushes you back softly, with a thick hand on your stomach and another still on your back. You feel your face burning as you're forced to face him

"You'd really want a threesome?" You nod and Bakugo gulps "Right now?"

"Mhm" You gulp too, your nose almost nuzzling against his "if- if you want to"

The way you're swamped with attention is overwhelming. From the way Kirishima jumps to the edge of the couch towards you, to the way Bakugo lifts you up and stands on his feet, urging you to do the same as your feet land one by one on the carpet underneath you.

"Fuck okay uh, are you fine with it Bakugo?" The redhead asks, scratching the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I am."

Kirishima gulps when he sees Bakugo latch onto you, placing his hand on your shoulder and coughing up slightly "Should we set some rules?"

"Yes" Bakugo coughs as well, though you can feel him getting hard to where your thoughts are meeting his "wanna suggest anything?"

"Great uh, maybe no kissing between the two of you, since she's my girlfriend? And Katsuki you're wearing a condom too. Are these fine?"

Both of you gulp and nod. It's natural for Kirishima to ask this. Sharing you out of the blue can't completely sit right with him; it almost flicks a switch on inside your gut, making you gulp again when you feel him hugging you from behind.

"Safeword?" Bakugo asks

"Red" You reply cooing when your back finally hits your boyfriend's chest.

You don't even have enough time to count down seconds before you're pounded and squished between the two of them. It's a miracle that you somehow manage to convince them to move it to the bedroom.

Even if making a small stop at the hall wasn't in your original plan

Kirishima's hands are everlastingly on your waist pulling your back into his chest. He's nibbling on the nape of your neck, his fingers light as feathers as they're peeling your T-shirt off of you. He almost grunts at your exposed back, leaning down just to place a kiss on each of your shoulders before latching onto your ear

"It's fine baby, it's fine if you're embarrassed okay?" He blows into you then takes a bite of your ear lobe to which you shiver as you snap your head to his face. “what? Are you that excited?"

You gulp, nodding with your eyes shutting, an expression on your face that looks almost painful -Bakugo can't help but palm himself, searching Kirishima's carmine eyes with his, waiting for a sign that he should make a move or retreat. Anything that doesn't involve him getting a front row seat to how your chest bounces as Kirishima runs his hands on your torso from behind.

"Fuck, I-" He says, swallowijg his tongue in the process, just when Kirishima's hands change paths, now wiggling underneath your sweatpants.

"Enjoying the show Bakugo?" Kirishima's smiles and fuck- when did he adopt such an attitude? "Come 'ere"

Bakugo does as he's commanded, guided by Kirishima, as he trails your torso with his hands intertwined with his, squeezing your upper hips, trailing your belly button, eyeing you with doe eyes before launching a kiss to your navel. You writhe and wiggle in Kirishima's embrace- the feeling of another man too new, too strange to take in in less than a few moments, but Eijiro's got you, kissing your nape, your cheek, softly playing with your breasts above your bralette. Whispering his praises with his hands across your body.

"Good girl" You're sure he whispers in your ear "I got you" But all you can feel is Katsuki's breath as he's placing open mouthed kisses across your tummy, over the valley of your chest, your cheek.

Kirishima is overly alert by this, jumping in between the little scene, capturing your lips with his, using a hand to push Bakugo into the kiss as well, pulling him in as lips as smeared against lips, your saliva trailing out of your mouth. You instinctively rub your thighs together to relieve some of the burning sensation between your legs

Soon enough, Bakugo is taking off your pants, rhen his shirt, Kirishima's taking his off too, managing not to let you go all while pushing the three of you into the bedroom. There's nothing but a trail of clothing in the hallway that could suggest what's happening inside the room once the door closes shut; three pairs of sweats, three different t-shirts and maybe the white ghost of hot and heavy breathing.

On the bed, it's way more comfortable. Your arching back is finally resting against the pillowy mattress, Kirishima's smile from upside down soothing and forgiving, you almost melt away while he cups your face and bumps his nose to yours, giggling slightly, before glaring at Bakugo. He guides your head into his lap, still holding your cheeks, still rubbing circles onto your soft face, pouting hard before facing your friend.

"You good babe?" He asks you and you nod again, humming a small reply to him "you too Katsuki?"

"Yeah, fuck yeah, I am" He gulps, pumping himself twice.

"You're not getting in without prep by the way"

You writhe in Kirishima's lap, gooey eyes and mouth open wide as he leans to pry your legs open, trailing his middle finger across your clothes slit. Your chest jumps when you hear him chuckle. You know he's struck the gold vein he's searching for, your panties swimming in a puddle, completely damp from getting your neck attacked only a few minutes ago.

Katsuki marvels a finger across your slit as well, avoiding your clit purposely or flicking it occasionally, moaning every time his finger touches the chilly dampness of your underwear.

Kirishima pries your legs open wider, hooking his middle finger under your panties and pulling them over and slightly to the side, flashing the blond with a glimpse of you -you swear you see him gulp. Hard.

"Want a taste?" Kirishima asks, chuckling, as if Bakugo isn't frothing at the mouth at the mention of the action, as if he isn't diving in between your thighs like a starved man.

He almost rips your panties by pulling them to the side. Your hands link through his platinum hair and you almost whine at how soft it feels, or, about the moaning sounds he makes as he's digging his fingers in the plush skin of your thigh, swinging your leg wider. You slide a little further along, laid completely flat on the bed -head still on Kirishima's lap.

Sweetly, Kirishima captures your inner lips with his fingers and circles them around before making you hump on him, his knuckles bumping with Bakugo's nose when he chuckles again. You almost tear up by the over stimulating pressure Kirishima's fingers provide for you, but you decide to hold it in; not sure hitched breath leaves your mouth until Bakugo takes an experimental lick across your slit.

With a thumb presses to your clit he retreats for a second, just to watch as he sinks his middle finger inside of you and -"oh my fucking god Katsuki"- he's back at it again, licking at you religiously. Softly, like Kirishima always does, patiently. Just like you love it.

It has your back arching, chest bouncing for Kirishima's eyes to enjoy. He decides he won't have you hanging, bouncing and thrashing. With two huge palms he cups your breasts, flicking your nipples, massaging you for just enough time to make your heart burn, then he wiggles a finger to the hood of your clit, applying throbbing pressure.

The knot in your stomach is tight, your vision blurry, you're sure what you think is silent moaning is probably full-on screaming, mewling or pleas of pleasure that you can't comprehend.

Kirishima is smiling at you from above, still wiggling his finger on you left and right in Bakugo's business and you can't help it- you yelp, pushing Bakugo's face deeper into you. It feels good- too good, like your legs are nothing but jello, your stomach and thighs feeling like they've transformed into liquid smooth. You mewl in Kirishima's arms, coiling, desperately eyeing him in hopes that he and Katsuki won't stop what they're doing.

"M so close" You slur when Kirishima takes a hand of yours away from Bakugo's hair, softly turning it upside down, until your palm is met with the wetness of his foreskin, the pulsing slit of his that leaks precum into your hand.

He whines -"ohh"- when you wrap your fingers around him, instantly pumping your hand up and down, your grip firm and steady as you twist your wrist with every bob of your hand.

"Suck me off baby" Kirishima softly commands, rubbing an experimental circle with his tip on your lips, smearing some of his precum around your mouth. You gulp at how carelessly he pumps his base, until he pries your lips open.

You take him eagerly into your mouth, feeling your stomach churn and your thighs freezing in place by Bakugos movements; so long as you're steadily sucking Kirishima's cock into your mouth, he scissors his fingers inside of you.

"You like that?" He moans into you, eyeing Kirishima "you twitched- fuck you're twitching"

"Show me how wet she is"

Kirishima commands and Bakugo complies by taking his fingers away from your heat and shining them into Kirishima's face. You whimper but how good it feels when he moans against you, blinking as you watch your boyfriend take your friend's fingers in his mouth, sucking in eagerly, before popping the digits out of his mouth, leaving a trail of saliva fall faintly onto the valley of your breasts

"Your pussy's s'wet baby, you're dripping all over over Katsuki's hands" Kirishima thrusts in your mouth "you taste so good" then turns his attention to Bakugo "tell 'er, how fucking good she tastes"

Bulky fingers rub on your clit once more and Bakugos hand secures your tummy in place while pinning you down; you feel it then, the inevitable end of what has been building up in your stomach for such a long while and you can't help but scream at the feeling of coming undone. Shaking, struggling to take a breath without popping Kirishima out of your mouth.

"Fucking perfect"

Your vision is white, your head is buzzing and your legs are frozen. You can feel Kirishima fucking into your mouth once, twice and ever so slightly, depending in how relaxed your jaw is as he's moaning. You don't choke when he hits your throat, you simply moan onto him, too blinded by the afterglow of your orgasm to even react to what's about to unfold.

"Fuck- take 'em off- Fuuck" Kirishima says, you notice. Bakugo probably does as he's told; you hear shuffling and grunting, the soft pop of his dick to his stomach. You want to see-

Bakugo, hazed and drenched in you, cups your womanhood with his hand, landing his thumb on your clit and you yelp again, thrassing onto the bed, finally popping Kirishima out of your mouth. He tugs and drags his fingers away- he's opening you up, of course, that's it- and you can't help but roam your eyes all over him. Searching for his cock, wanting to see it dive inevitably into you.

It's unfair that Kirishima has a better view than you do, but at least, you hope he enjoys the view. You buck your hips forward when you feel Katsukis thighs grace against your own. His skin is unbelievably cold, making the hair on your legs and tummy raise; a tear rolls down your cheek then the moment the tip of his cock touches your clit.

"We've got- ah- condoms in the first drawer. On your left" Kirishima says cheerfully, bucking his hips away from your face, kneeling just to place a kiss on your forehead- your nose- your lips, finally bumping the tip of his nose to yours when he sucks your inner lip into his mouth

"You liked that baby?" Kirishima breathes "You liked Bakugo eating you out?"

"Mhm" You nod, not wanting to break away from the kiss, unlike Kirishima

You can hear Katsuki cursing, slamming the drawer shut as he fidgets with the condom. Everything seems slow, from the way his thick fingers can't grasp the tiny edges of the wrapper, to him finding out what's the right side to put it on -he grunts, inevitably- stealing giggles from both you and Kirishima

"Ah man, you're struggling, come 'ere let me help"

Bakugo grunts once again, although this time it's not out of frustration. Kirishima playfully pulls him close, places a kiss on his navel and extends his hand underneath Bakugo's, politely asking for the condom -you know his lips are pressed into a goofy smiley line right now just by the way his body moves.

Kirishima lets your cheek rest on his thigh when he moves to grab Katsuki's cock, to roll the condom on him while twisting his fist on him no more than twice -unfair- before playfully slapping the blond's ass, urging him to climb onto the bed again.

It's then that your hips are jerked and raised towards the blond, huge palms on your hips, pulling you towards him. Nervous touches, unspoken apologies for potentially harsh movements, his eyes are flickering into yours and his lips are all pouty, scrunched, his cheeks plump with embarrassment. He doesn't know if you notice, nor does he think he ever will, but it's killing him -that he's only allowed to line himself up with you under this circumstance.

Whether you notice the hurt in his eyes or not, you don't comment on it, nor do you spare him any worried look. He doesn't even know if he wants you to take pity on this state of his.

No.

No, he doesn't.

He only hopes Kirishima won't get mad when he cups your face tenderly, nor when he traps your face with his other hand caging you away from the redhead thigh -it's for better leverage he'll say if he's asked to- but you melt into his touch.

And his chest burns.

It's worse when he finally pushes into you. His heart won't stop beating hard and fast and he's scared he's going to have a fall. No-no- he shouldn't think about it, if he does think about it, he'll definitely have a fall.

"Ooh, ooh, ooh," You murmur, feeling the voice come from the depths of your chest.

That's the only confirmation he needs to ignite his ego and light it on fire. You feel good, you're sucking him in deeper and your cheek is still melting into his palm. It's more than enough; he ignores Kirishima's gaze and whatever it may carry behind it. It's for his own sanity he reminds himself.

"You're doing so good babe,'' Kirishima asks you, cupping your other cheek. He's smiling- no need to worry about him not having a positive reaction to Bakugo caressing you

(The rules that had been presented to him were simple- wear a condom and no kissing)

"You're taking it so well, isn't she Katsuki?"

"Fuck yeah" He grunts, thrusting harder

"So, so well baby, we'll make sure you get to come first okay?" You ogle your eyes at Kirishima, teary and soft by his words, clapping your lips together and pouting, begging him silently for a kiss. Only to feel the void when his soft lips don't come in contact with yours

"Oh no, no kiss for baby. You're so naughty, wanting me to kiss you when you're getting fucked by our friend"

"What?" You whine, popping on to your left elbow "Eiji- i want my kiss"

"None can do" He smiles and Bakugo snaps his hips into you "unless you earn it"

Your stomach is tied in a knot again, gummy walls tightening around Bakugo, back arching. It's almost painful to watch you sprawled like this underneath him, reacting in peak with the rhythm of his hips, begging him to go faster, harder. At one point, he's losing himself in the speed he's fucking you with, feeling like he's about to combust from inside out is not helping either

-He thinks, he'll be spent for days after this-

It's guttural, the way you feel as Bakugo thrusts inside of you, the way you mewl and twitch and feel your eyes roll to the back of your head. You feel full, so much that you mutter it, slurred and incomprehensibly at Kirishima. It's more than enough for him to rub your chin with his thumb and buck his hips on your face again. You take him eagerly, smiling with your lips when he lands on your tongue. You swirl it around, pump him deeper into your mouth, suck on his tip until he moans in sync with you.

"Bakugoo" He hisses, biting his lip as he's eyeing you "don't chase your own satisfaction! Go slower and rub her clit too" He takes Bakugos hand away from your face, tracing it down your body before landing on your heat, pinching your clit softly making you moan "ah so responsive"

For a while he doesn't move his hand away, focused on guiding Bakugo's fingers on you, teaching him how to make you feel good while he's fucking and you're on fire, gut churning and chest tight, ovestimulated by how good it all feels. You can't even take a proper breath as Kirishima humps deeper into your mouth. He groans too loud when his tip hits your cheek.

You know this is too much for him, you know he can't hold back any longer, but you grab onto his shaft and twirl your grin on his base, bobbing it into your cheek and popping it out before swallowing it again.

And while Bakugo's thrusts are becoming desperate, Kirishima bursts into your mouth, holding your hair softly, pulling you closer to you- closer, closer, until your nose hits his navel, biting on his cheeks and squinting his eyes so he won't shut them, drunk on the view of you overflowing with his come. He only grubs your chin, swiping his thumb on the white trail that's spilling from the corner of your lips, trying his best to smirk at you without taking a breath.

"Swallow it sweetheart -ah- that's right, you're so -fuck- perfect for me"

Your lower stomach is protesting, bursting slowly as Bakugo is thrusting faster into you. His speed, him hitting that spot in your gut repeatedly, creating the perfect feeling of numbness, it's all too much and not enough all at once, you want to cry out- you gush and you writhe as your legs hook around Bakugo's waist.

Your boyfriend retreats from his previous position, smiling as ever, petting Bakugo's blonde hair, massaging your breast, kissing your nipple, then attacking your upper chest, trapping supple skin in between his tongue and teeth, dragging Bakugo along with him. It's what ultimately leads Bakugo over the edge, his tip feeling numb, blood rushing all over his body, he thrusts a few more times before he pulls out, spilling his own satisfaction into the condom, feeling his heart race faster than ever before.

"Your doing sooo good" Kirishima says once more, pecking your lips repeatedly. "Wanna ride me? Or are you tired? "

"Fuck no, lay down"

"That's my girl" He smiles "Katsuki, come here"

Kirishima rubs your wetness up and down, grunting when he finds your clit, grazing it with the back of his hand, whispering about how wet you are, to which you respond by hugging your arms around his neck, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. You only pull back when he lets you coo into him by petting your hair softly.

You're instantly met with Bakugo's eyes blazing into yours from above- it's not intimidating, rather, it's lustful, but you still need some time to pull yourself back, despite the eagerness in his eyes. You must have missed the point where he discarded his condom, or just how thick he actually is, because he's standing hard and proud before you, nervously searching for Kirishima's approval.

Your boyfriend's approval comes with gripping on him and easing him close to you. You take him in both of your hands, relying on Kirishima to keep your torso lifted, focusing on twisting your hand around him in the same way you did for Eijiro. Too bad you almost lose grip when He snaps his hips into you.

You can feel Katsuki's dick twitch into your hands as you pull him down lower, getting your tongue out of your mouth to place kitten lips all over his length. Eijiro mimics you, licking the tip when you're not licking the base, letting you take control when he ceases his movements for a bit, to lift both of you a little higher, so you don't have to bend your neck as much. He strokes some sweaty strands of hair away from your face, he kisses your cheek and Bakugo is already thrusting into your mouth feverously.

"Fuck"

"You're so wet baby, you feel like you could take us both" You yelp, wide eyes as you freeze on the spot "want to take us both?"

"I do" You yelp with tears in your eyes "I do I do, I do I do"

"Oh, look at you being so desperate, want to get -ah- wrecked, don't you?"

"I do Eiji- you cry out

"Then ask Katsuki to take you too, ask him to shove his cock into you while I'm fucking you too, like the greedy little thing you are"

At this point, you think poor Bakugo isn't going to make it to the end of this.

"Katsu" You plead, watery eyes staring into desperate carmine ones "Katsu fuck me while Eiji fucking me too-"

"Say please" Kirishima interrupts, pinching your nipple "or I'm not going to let him"

"Please, pleaseplease, please"

"Fuck yeah" Katsuki replies "ill fucking wreck you" The sounds he's making are supposed to be words, though they're far from being clear and understandable, his veins are pulsing into your mouth. He's too excited for this, so excited that you know he'll never make it to the drawer to reach for a new condom. So Kirishima is doing it for him, hooking the little rubber between his fingers as he's opening the drawer.

"Come on baby, pull back" He taps on your shoulder and places a kiss on your collar bone, thrusting deeper into you this time. The reaction is immediate, you're throwing your head back in seconds and Bakugo whines at the sudden departure of your warm mouth.

Kirishima allows you to kiss his thighs, his tip, his navel, to squeeze the small of his back and his ass before letting you wear the condom onto him.

You lose track of Bakugo until you feel wet kisses being planted on your thighs and ass, the back of your knees. You feel his hand being placed on your thigh, the warmth of his palm as he's soothingly rubbing it up and down your skin, to prepare you, raising his thumb to graze at your crotch occasionally. You whine every time he thumbs your clit, or flicks it when it meets with Kirishima's navel.

"You good? I'll start with my fingers" You choke on the sound of his words and nod frantically. If only you could actually watch him when he delves his middle finger in you along with Eijiro's cock. Still you whine loudly, when another finger joins the first one, slowly scissoring inside of you "fuck you're gonna take it so well aren't you? Kirishima's right. You love this"

"Answer him," Kirishima whispers, teeth biting down in your lobe. He grabs your face, trapping your cheeks between his fingers, turning you in Katsuki's direction, pushing your cheeks together. You swallow when you see the blind focused on watching you stretch.

"I love it

But Eijiro isn't satisfied with how you're trying to make your words get past from your lips

"Say it like you mean it doll, or I won't let your friend put it in"

You eye him dangerously, putting your lips even further before muttering a soft 'fine' -your redhead doesn't make a comment on your little attitude, probably because he's gotten what he's wanted from you- and Katsuki hisses, fisting his cock faster.

"I love it so much Katsuh"

"And Eiji- you mean. It's not only him that's here" Kirishima smirks and this time he pulls out of you, flipping your body so that your back is facing him. One hand comes to your wetness, spreading your lips apart, stretching you wide open "Try again" He lets go just for a moment, to slap your clit loosely. Once. Twice. Never ceasing when you whine. Your hips buck up towards Katsuki.

"Look at how nice I am, I even gave you a full view. Am I not?"

"You are Eiji. You're the best, the best. And I love this so much, I'm going to combust"

"Oh you will?" Katsuki interrupts, grunting when Kirishima pulls his dick closer to you, rubbing the head on your clit until Katsuki gets the hint. You let out a guttural groan at the feeling, tears starting to form in the corners of your eyes from being too overstimulated for so long

"Yes baby, I will, just please"

"M going in-" Katsuki announces, earning a nod from Kirishima "If he won't let you come, then we don't listen to him 'kay?"

Kirishima chuckles at the one and bites the top of your ears dragging his tongue to the base of it- a warning- to not try and agree with what Katsuki's offering. And being obedient definitely pays off when you feel your boyfriend's head poke against your entrance.

It feels splitting and painful all at once; the tears in your eyes are pouring, and none of the caresses you're receiving is helping. You need time to adjust and both men provide that for you. Minutes pass spent with soft kisses. Kirishima sucking your neck and Bakugo kissing your breasts, the three of you making out- anything until you feel like you can get used to them.

And when you do, they go slow, each at their own pace, simultaneously hitting spots that you don't know could or should ever be hit at the same time.

"You good?" Both men ask and you have to gulp that frog that sits at the top of your mouth if you want to talk, but you can't. Your throat is too tight, your eyes are too watery

"Babe"

"Better than I thought I'd be actually"

You get lost in the haze of their hips, their thrusts and you can already feel Katsuki collapsing onto you, chasing his own pit of pleasure when it hits you. Your gut coming undone for the last time has your heart leaping and skipping beats; you hook your arm around Katsuki's neck, jumping up and down from how fast both men are thrusting into you and you bring your face to his, cooling your mouths together.

When he feels you clamp down on him -and Kirishima- he pulls out, rolls the condom off and strokes himself slightly. You whine at the sudden departure of him inside of you but you quickly clamp down on just your boyfriend, before feeling him shifting from underneath you, finally pushing down the small of your back. You take Katsuki into your mouth while Kirishima slaps your ass, thrusting fast and hard into you.

There's no sweet talk right now, authority and intimidation hiding away as satisfaction is being chased. Sloppily and not carefully at all. It's evident in how you're sucking Katsuki off. There's no consistency in your rhythm, you're squirming as Kirishima is slowing down before picking up his pace again, running his hands through your hair affectionately. When he comes, he coats your insides in white ropes of pleasure, riding off his orgasm softly, until he feels himself stop twitching.

By the time he pulls out you've made Katsuki come as well, hearing his high pitched grunts as he lets it all out in your mouth. Although this time you're not overwhelmed with the amount; it's his second round nonetheless.

Katsuki's hands don't cease to take this chance, even if they're awkward and shaking he's grabbing your cheeks squishing them just like Kirishima did a while ago and kisses you, poking his tongue in your mouth, moaning at his own taste, pulling your lips under his teeth.

You know your lips will be bruised by this. And you don't care. Because when he pulls back, Kirishima is kissing you as well, pulling you into his arms, caging you into his chest.

You even smile as tiny, peppery kisses are pressed onto your skin.

"You did so well" Kirishima smiles "you too Katsu, you both were amazing"

Katsuki smiles, popping onto the bed as well, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling himself onto you and Kirishima. He nuzzles his nose at the crook of your neck and for the first time in a while he feels warm, content, calm and collected. Or so you think by the kiss that's planted onto your back by him.

It's tender and soft, mimicking Kirishima's but feeling nothing like your boyfriend's kisses at the same time. You collapse further into Kirishima's chest and he kisses the top of your hair and your cheek, mellowy.

"Wanna take a bath?" He suggests under his breath and both you and Katsuki nod, sinking further in the sheets with heavy eyes. Maybe when your feet won't feel like they'll betray you, you'll get up and have a warm bath, sandwiched between Katsuki and Eijiro, smothered in kisses, lathered in lavender soap, maybe you'll make a cup of chamomile for the three of of you and cuddle between them before you go to sleep.

Until then…

[wandaromanova]

Little Sister

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: one cuss word, minor BW spoilers

A/N: hello! i’d like to note that this takes place sometime before the events in the Black Widow movie! if you haven’t seen the movie yet, please skip over this story and come back later if you’d like! happy reading <3

anon requested: hiii i have a fluff request after seeing bw haha: could you do nat x fem reader where they're laying in bed snuggling, and r asks her about her family and nat tells her and r notices how cute she looks when she's talking about yelena and it's so soft and ahhhh

Summary: Natasha tells her girlfriend about a piece of her past that she never talks about; her sister.

Word Count: 2K

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please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

Natasha Romanoff has lived a lot of lives. She has been through more than most.

Nat had been taken as an infant by an organization that trained little girls to become lethal assassins.

She was psychologically conditioned to become a killer, having taken more lives than she could count.

Eventually, Natasha had managed to break free from the cage she was forced into and was recruited as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent; it was a new start for her, an opportunity to compensate for the red in her ledger.

So, Natasha took her job seriously, saving as many people as she could, even more so when she became an Avenger; one of earth’s mightiest heroes.

Natasha found something in the team that she never really had before; a family. She found a home within the dysfunctional team she had been recruited into.

Not only did Natasha find a family within the Avengers; she also found the love of her life.

Natasha hadn’t even considered the possibility of ever finding love.

For starters, the Red Room had instilled the concept that love was nothing but a distraction; a liability.

She had been taught that love was for children and it was nothing but a weakness that needed to be avoided at all costs.

She was quite literally programmed to be emotionally closed off and to always have her guard up. Letting someone into her heart was a risk she didn’t want to take.

When Natasha gained her independence from the organization, she had to do a lot of self-discovering. She had never been able to be her own person, but now that she could, she quickly learned that she didn’t even know herself.

However, it was Natasha’s insecurities that truly turned her off from the entire idea of love.

How could any ever possibly love her? She thought she was a monster for the things she’d done. She has done the unspeakable since ever she was a child.

What if she wasn’t enough? What if her baggage was too much for someone else to carry? She didn’t want to be a burden. She didn’t want to have to protect someone, just to fail them like she had failed so many others.

Natasha was positive that no one would ever be crazy enough to love her.

Little did she know, she would end up finding someone crazy enough to do so; you.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

When the Avengers were formed, you were extremely nervous about it.

All of the files that you’ve read on your new teammates were unbelievable; they were all phenomenal in their own rights. A super-soldier, a god, a genius, a trained-spy.

You were a spy yourself, so you knew exactly who Natasha Romanoff was. She was a S.H.I.E.L.D legend, the best of the best.

You were more nervous about meeting her than anyone else. What if she judged you? What if she didn’t think you were good enough to be an agent, let alone an Avenger?

Not only was she your superior, but she was also your crush. Yeah, you’d never even met the woman before, but you were crushing on her hard.

She was drop-dead gorgeous, but also quite literally a deadly force. Natasha could easily take down anyone she wanted to, and honestly, you wanted to be one of those lucky people.

When you met Natasha for the first time, you were a flustered mess. The redhead found it amusing, how your cheeks turned a bright shade of red and you stumbled over your words as you praised her work.

Natasha never told you this, but she was immediately smitten the moment she laid eyes on you.

There was a kindness and positivity that just radiated off of you and it was extremely contagious.

You were this beaming ball of light that lit up the darkest parts of her soul.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

You got to know Natasha extremely well while being on the team. From observing her closely and paying very close attention to her actions, you had managed to pick up on little things.

She didn’t put any creamer or sugar in her sugar; opting for strong, black coffee.

She was kind of a clean freak. If she saw something out of place, she would be quick to put it in the correct place or position.

When she was happy, she would let a small smirk cross her features. When she was annoyed, she would raise her eyebrows.

When she was stressed out or angry, three little creases would appear on her forehead as her eyebrows would knit together tightly; a subtle frown on her face.

Of course, when you began dating the redhead, you didn’t really have to survey her so closely anymore because she’d tell you things herself.

No matter the circumstances, Natasha would always come to you and rant about it. Whether it was about how shitty a mission went or how she beat Clint’s ass during training; you were the only person she wanted to tell.

Natasha had opened up to you, something she never did with anyone. She told you all about her past.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

You had some knowledge of Natasha’s previous life, considering it was in her files, but you didn’t realize just how horrible her childhood truly was.

The Red Room, the heavy weight of guilt that rests on her shoulders, the nightmares that forced her to relive the murders she committed, her time as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, and becoming an Avenger.

She’d go on and on about her road to redemption or ‘clearing the red out of her ledger.’

Natasha was terrified when she told you about her demons. She figured you were going to leave her the second she finished talking, waiting for you to get up and walk out the door, but you didn’t.

So, you completely caught her off guard when you pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, placing a soft kiss onto her temple, the redhead relaxing in your embrace.

“You’re the strongest person I know. It’s not your fault, you were forced and conditioned to do the things you did.”

Natasha focused on the sound of your voice and took in your words as you softly caressed her red locks with one hand.

“Baby, the amount of respect I have for you is immeasurable. I applaud you for turning your life around for the better. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Your words had brought tears to Natasha’s eyes, which was a rare occurrence.

She was expecting you to run for the hills, but you chose to pull her closer instead.

In that moment, Natasha knew she never had to be afraid of love again.

You were the most understanding and accepting person she’d ever met.

You would never judge her for her worst mistakes; Natasha had found the one for her and she wasn’t ever going to let go.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

Now, a few months later and a year into your relationship with the Russian, you were both lying in bed and cuddling.

You were both watching a movie when a particular scene came on. It was of a family gathering around a Christmas tree, children excitedly opening up presents with gleeful smiles across their faces.

“You know, my sister and I got to take pictures with a Christmas tree once.” Natasha spoke, her eyes fixated on the screen.

You looked up at her in shock. You didn’t know that Natasha had a sister. She told you that she didn’t even so much as know her parent’s names.

Natasha looked down and noticed your confused expression. She reached for the remote on the bedside table and paused the movie before returning her gaze to you.

“There was a mission I was assigned to in Ohio, as a kid. I was assigned to play the daughter of two other Russian spies, Alexei and Melina. It wasn’t just me though, there was a little girl who was assigned as my younger sister. Her name is Yelena.”

Natasha had a reminiscent, happy smile on her face as she recalled the brief period time of her childhood. She looked absolutely adorable as she rambled on about this part of her childhood.

“We took photoshoots of various holidays to make our family look more realistic. My favorite one was Christmas. Even though I knew they were just empty boxes, I wanted to rip open every single one.”

Natasha let out a small giggle at the thought. Even though she had a smile on her face, you could feel and hear the underlying tone of sadness in her voice.

“Yelena and I would spend hours outside, just playing together. Swinging on the swing-sets, looking up at the stars, bending over backward, and getting into a ridiculous competition to see who could hold the position the longest… I always let her win.”

You could see the fondness in her eyes, the longing. It warmed your heart that there was a small glimmer of light in Natasha’s past. There was at least a sliver of hope that she clung tightly onto throughout her time in the Red Room.

“After 3 years, the mission ended. Yelena and I were sent back to the Red Room and were torn apart from one another.

Natasha’s breathing grew heavier as she recalled the unfaithful day. The sight of her sister being taken, and not being able to do anything to help her; still haunted the redhead to this day.

“There were so many men with guns and armor, they literally ripped us away from each other. I was eleven and she was only six.”

Your heart sunk at your girlfriend’s words as her smile dropped. She tore her eyes away from yours as she blinked rapidly, fighting back tears, but failed. You reached your hand up to her cheek and wiped away the fallen droplets.

“I haven’t seen her since. I’d like to think that she found a way out and got a life of her own; a nice, happy life.”

Natasha placed her hand on top of yours before looking down at you once more. You sent her a soft smile when she let out a shaky breath.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I knew that the it was all fake, but it was still the best part of my childhood. It was real to me.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You nodded your head at her words. She took a brief pause, trying to regain her composure, before continuing.

“Even if we have no true relation to one another, and even if I haven’t seen her in years, she is still my little sister.”

Natasha finished off with a big gasp as sobs wracked her body. You sat up from her embrace and pulled her into your arms, just like you had many times before.

You rubbed her back soothingly as she cried into your shoulder, her tears hitting the exposed skin.

“She sounds amazing, baby. I’m really happy that you had some sort of happiness back then and I hope one day you get to see her again.”

You whispered and Natasha pulled away from the hug, still in your arms as her emerald eyes surrounded by a sea of red, a result of her crying.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I doubt she’d even want to see me. I didn’t even try to find her. I’m a horrible sister! I-“

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You immediately pressed your lips against hers, effectively getting the Russian to calm down. You broke the kiss when her breathing slowed.

“Honey, of course, she’d want to see you again. Like you said, you guys are sisters. I’m positive that it was just as real to her as it was to you.”

You reassured your girlfriend, her eyes a pool of worry and guilt. You rubbed your thumb against her waist, the material of your her hoodie beneath your touch.

“From what you’ve told me about the Red Room, it would’ve been impossible to find her. Stop beating yourself up over it. You’re the best, and I’m totally not biased or anything.”

Natasha let out a small chuckle at that and you smiled at her, wiping away the last of her tears. She collapsed into your hold further, shoving her face into the crook of your neck.

“Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you so much.”

Natasha’s words came out muffled as her face pressed further into your skin.

“You never need to thank me for anything. I’ll always be here for you, Natty.”

You hugged her as tight as you possibly could, her cold skin meeting your warmth. Natasha let out a small sigh at the feeling.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Wherever you go, I go.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

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