#if I did please know it wasn't intentional

[lightlycareless]

I’m sorry if this is a weird question. It’s totally cool if you just delete this if it is but when faced with another guy bothering Y/N, would he be the type to punch a guy out, intimidate them, or talk out of it(y’know that suave way of staking claim so to speak) :3

Hello anon!!!

Ah yes, the ask I thought I hallucinated by some strange reason 🤣 like, I believed I already posted the answer to this but I didn't???

Either way, this gave me the perfect opportunity to do a bit of angst :) a little "Naoya and Y/N realize being together isn't all rainbows"

warnings: highschool au, kind of. slight mentions of violence. you really worry for naoya. he has yet a lot to learn about being a good boyfriend. it's the early stages of the relationship.

Enjoy!

Honestly, this moment… is something everyone around you awaited.

I mean, Naoya is brash, stubborn, rude, selfish, nobody gets along with him, doesn't have that many friends, so on and so forth.

Thus, it was only natural that he'd eventually rub someone the wrong way…

Or be rubbed the wrong way.

Your boyfriend, as stated, was a threat by himself, but when you were added into the mix, it's like all his foul traits doubled. Not to you, of course not, never to the only other person he considered worthy of him.

But towards those foolish enough to think they still had a chance with you after making his claim. To defy the heir of the Zen'in is to have a death wish—wasn’t that common knowledge by now?!

Yet, to those ignorant of this fact, he is nothing but patient enough to remind.

“—Naoya!”

It happened all so quickly. One moment you were being pestered by a faceless student, insisting you’d leave your boyfriend for someone better, a bit more grounded, implying himself to be that person…

And the other, you were crying, heart thundering and hands trembling as the horrifying sight of Naoya beating that same guy unfolded before you.

The fight did not go without retaliation of course, your instigator never intending to take your boyfriend’s punches without retaliation, which lead you to shriek when a particular sharp blow landed against Naoya’s left side of his face, prompting you to run to their side and do all in your power to separate them—

To no avail.

“Stop it, Naoya!” You cried, helplessly trying to get them away from one another; but you never could compare to his strength. Less when he was determined to continue so. “Please! St—stop! You're— you're going to— you’re going to kill him!”

“What is going on??” Nanami exclaims. It wasn't his intention to get near the commotion, always one to avoid trouble whenever possible, but upon hearing your frightened voice, he ran as fast as possible to your aid. “Y/N!”

“Ken—Kento—! You— You have to stop them!” You wailed, frantically tugging at this arm and evoking a sense of urgency. “They're going to—they’re going to kill each other if you don’t!”

The ones that ultimately manage to separate the two are Suguru and Satoru, just before the teachers stepped in, but not enough to prevent them from being reprimanded by them, taking them to the principal’s office to discuss their rightful punishment—regardless of who provoked who.

“After my family sues you, you're fucking dead!”

“Ha! Do you not know who I am?! I'd like to see you try!” Naoya guffaws.

“Stop it already!” Yaga exclaimed “You're already knees deep in trouble, the last thing you both need is to be expelled!”

Ultimately, the threat of being away from you is enough to keep Naoya willing. One would think that he'd worry more about his family and the issue this small disturbance would bring, but truth is that he's gotten out of worse predicaments: him getting into an altercation with a nobody is not something that would prevent the elders, or him, from sleeping.

Though your prolonged silence, the cold judgment imposed by your piercing eyes, and the subtle annoyance displayed in your touch would; feeling tiny for the first time in his life before you, even when you were so attentively tending to his wounds once dismissed.

“Why are you so quiet, princess? Don’t tell me I scared ya’?” Naoya begins, cutting through the awkward silence settling between the two with a teasing tone he hopes would make light of the situation—make you forget of the blood curling screams you let out when he was entangled with that irrelevant kid who’d more likely disappear tomorrow, and move on…

But oh, how wrong he’d be to choose that path. Make fun of your poor heart.

“What? Thought I wouldn’t win? You know me better than—”

“Is this what it is to you? A joke?” You sternly state, stopping tending his wounds and subsequently quieting Naoya up.

“A joke?” Naoya repeats. “A joke would be him thinking he could win against—"

“Seriously, Naoya?! Is that all you have to say?!” You cry, beginning to crack. “Why must you always take it a competitive thing??”

“Ah, so what was I supposed to do? Let him beat me??” Naoya countered.

“There you go again, taking my words out of context! I didn’t even say that!” you whined.

“Well, it’s not like you’ve given me much to work on, princess.” He scowls. “Why are you even so angry? If anything, I should be the one upset because I got hurt for you, and this is the thanks I get!”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?!” you gasp, offended as tears began to form in the corners of your eyes. “Was I the one that wanted this—this fight to happen? Did I tell you I wanted to see you get hurt?!”

“It’s kind of expected, don’t you think?” He states, making your eyes go wide. “We’re sorcerers, we’re bound to get hurt—if you didn’t want that then maybe you should’ve considered a different career—

Or a different boyfriend.”

“Is that—is that what you’re going to go with?” you firmly ask, as if giving him one last time to reconsider his words…

Which he did after you set aside the first aid kit, standing up with all intentions of leaving the room that he realized how gravely he’d messed up, quicky to grab your arm and pull you back to him; and though the wounds of his fight made it hurt, more so since you struggled against him, he did not relent.

“Wait, Y/N, please—That came out wrong, I didn’t mean—”

“And what did you mean, Naoya?” you say, with a trembling voice that made his heart sting even more. He’s just gotten out of one altercation to walk right into another one—how delightful. “If it isn’t to mock me for worrying?!”

“No, I wasn’t.” Naoya says, tightening his hold on you, as much as he could anyways. He just… he just didn’t want you to leave, not like this. Not when he needed you the most. “I would never!”

You don’t respond, there wasn’t much to say when his words didn’t match his actions.

“…I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“But you did.” You responded, and now he was able to hear the tears that had begun to slide down your cheeks. “You… you got into that awful fight instead of letting him go and almost got yourself expelled—no, worse! Killed!”

“But it didn’t happen, you know? You… you called for help, and we stopped!”

“Because you wouldn’t listen!” You wept, turning around and taking a good look at his face. Naoya wishes you hadn’t, however, because seeing you cry just broke his heart into a million pieces. “Neither of you!”

“Y/N—”

“You were like… like an animal out there.” You added. “Nothing seemed to snap you out of trance, and I—I got so scared—!”

“I didn’t mean to scare you either.”

“Does it even matter? You said so yourself, this is what sorcerers are supposed to do.”

“No, you know what I meant—”

“No. I don’t. I really don’t know what you meant.”

…

…

…

“I did this to protect you.” Naoya quietly adds. “I just… got so angry seeing you being bothered by that idiot, that I… I needed to do something. I needed to get him away from you!”

“…Why can’t you understand this isn’t what I wanted?” You sniffle. “I didn’t want you to get hurt, no matter the reason why.”

“I know, I know you didn’t—”

“Then… why did you do it? What made you so angry, enough to beat him up and risk your career?”

The thought of being undeserving of you. Naoya concluded. Because his words had unwittingly struck a nerve, a thought he’s tried his hardest to push deep within the confines of his mind, but until he makes amends with himself, he’ll never be able to escape that fear.

The notion that perhaps there is someone better out there for you… and that person isn’t himself.

And after the way he’s made you cry, such bitter tears… perhaps that was the truth.

“I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want.” Naoya quietly concludes, making your eyes widen once more. “So I will never hurt you again.”

“Naoya, that’s—that’s not what I want!” you gasp, heart clenching at the prospect of him leaving you. “Not at all!”

“What good of a boyfriend could I be if I all I do ends up hurting you?”

“And you think that leaving me wouldn’t do just that??” you fret. “That living a life without you won’t make me miserable?!”

“It seems I already do…”

“N—No! I don’t—I don’t want that! I—I can’t allow it!” you sob, immediately wrapping your arms around him. “I just got you… I don’t want to lo—lose you…!”

Now with tears in his eyes, Naoya tightly embraces you, pulling you as close as possible as he reassures your fears away.

“Princess…” Naoya breathes, cupping your face and making you look to him. “It’ll take a whole lot for me to ever leave you. Probably the end of the world—but you’ll never lose me, ever.”

“You don’t—you don’t know how awful it felt to not be able to do anything!” you confess. “I… I tried to get him off you but I—I couldn’t do it—I couldn’t protect you!”

“No, no, Y/N—That’s my job. I’m supposed to protect you, not the other way around.”

“But you—what about you? What if you need me? What am I supposed to do?”

“Leave all the heavy lifting to me, and you…” Naoya smiles, intertwining his hands with yours. “You can patch me up after, eh? Heal me up.”

“Nao—Naoya.” You sniffle, lips trembling as tears continued to flood your face. “Promise me you—promise me you’ll always be careful… please.”

“I promise.” He says, taking your hands to his lips and gently kissing your knuckles. “Though I doubt someone as talented as me might need to make such promises—it’s a given.”

“Don’t be silly…” you murmur, he chuckles. “As long as you’re a sorcerer, I’ll always worry…”

“Good thing I have my mochi to take care of me, hm? Have me in her thoughts while I’m away.” Naoya smiles.

“You better not come back too roughed up, then. Or I—Or I won’t be able to help much…”

“Not that I need much, your kisses are sufficient enough to make me feel much—ah, shit, princess?!” Naoya gasps, startled by the stinging sensation of the alcohol-soaked cotton pressed against his skin. “Should’ve given me a warning, at least!”

“I thought you only needed my kisses?” You gently tease, he frowns. “Sorry, I just needed to clean you up before you do anything else, you started bleeding again.”

“…Fine, I guess.” Naoya pouts, hissing whenever feeling the alcohol against his wounds.

“What will happen with… him, by the way?”

“I don’t know, he’s getting expelled I guess.” Naoya shrugs. “I’ll make it happen if not.”

“Naoya…”

“What? He was bothering you—think I’m going to let that slide? No one annoys my princess outside of me.”

“… Thank you, for protecting me, really.” You eventually murmur, putting away everything once done. You then lean forward, placing a chaste kiss over his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too, little mochi.” Naoya smiles, kissing you once more. “My sweet damsel in distress, are you going to nurse me until I’m all better?”

“Don’t call me that—and do I have another choice?”

He snickers. “I guess not, but you wouldn’t want it any other way, would you?”

You smile.

“No, I guess not.”

…

…

…

“I wouldn’t mind if you dressed up as a nurse too, you know? Heard it helps for a faster recovery.”

“Don’t push it…

…

…

…

here, at least.”

Naoya smirks. Maybe he should get a bit roughed up once in a while.

Yes he'd beat up someone for you, naturally. let's not forget his go-to solution in grave situations is killing someone lol.

Anyways, I hope you liked this little something!! It's kind of refreshing to write the Naoya that has yet to learn how to approach you; like, I know I tend to write him perfect in certain aspects, but he was once a... brat, I guess haha. He doesn't know how to treat people, less the one he loves! We're bound to see more of this flawed Naoya very early in the relationship and I LOVE IT hehehe. I wonder what other stumbles I can write...?

Now, take care and hope to see you soon!!

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Still wild to me that the Avatar team saw a guy write a love story between a stick and a monkey and were like "This is the guy who we need to write Rangshi and Yangvik" and then he ended up making two of the best couples in all of the Avatar-verse TT0TT

[sysig]

Red Eyes and Evil Time, practically the same thing right (Patreon)

[quietwingsinthesky]

part of me wonders like. what if ruby's mom had just left. what if ruby had said "i'm named after a road", looking at her with so much hope in her eyes, and her mom, who made this choice nineteen years ago, couldn't handle it. and left.

[magentagalaxies]

hey so i'm not making a DNI because i don't want to (i initially had a longer attempt at articulating a reason and then i realized i don't have to explain more than "i don't want to") but the past few blogs that have followed me are very harry pottter focused and given the actions and rhetoric of jk rowling i'd appreciate it if any blogs who prominently post harry potter themed content would kindly refrain from following me.

you can probably still reblog my posts, not bc of my moral stance but bc honestly i don't really notice who reblogs from me unless they have a huge red flag in their url, but in terms of following my blog i'd prefer it if harry potter bloggers could just not

and i know there's always the excuse of separating the art from the artist (like people who continue to post about harry potter but end every post with "fuck jkr tho"), and not everyone even knows why jkr is a horrible person bc a lot of the discussion is very online (that's the reason this is worded so empathetically, i'm assuming harry potter fans who follow me are in either of these two camps but if you're just an outright terf then go fuck yourself of course). but even if you're entirely dedicated to balancing every harry potter post with a post about hating terfs, the fact that harry potter is still being promoted in a way that's uncritical of the content itself makes me uncomfortable and by making the harry potter brand maintain relevance that's still supporting jkr no matter how many times you put "fuck terfs" on your blog

disagree with me if you want bc i can't control whether people post about one of the largest fandoms in history, but i can make a statement being like "hey if you follow me and your most recent posts are all harry potter gifsets i will be blocking you so honestly for your own convenience please don't put in the effort of following me"

[roostertuftart]

Look I dont think youre wrong about people not listening to jewish voices but I am uncomfortable with you advocating so strongly for some groups while being shitty with others like when you liked a post by a racist justifying their use of the nword in the past and never talked about it. Jewish people need to be spoken for but how you pick and choose is suspicious and you cant expect other people to admit their biases when you cant admit your own.

??? Are you seriously trying to say that my concern for someone who was clearly in the midst of a mental breakdown makes it so that I can't support another person trying to speak about how depictions of a character are somewhat problematic???? This is. pathetic but thanks for trying to word it in the most uncharitable way possible lol.

edit: god i definitely worded these tags aggressively so I'm probably gonna make a real apology though I'm not even certain I did what anon is accusing me of??? either way my aggression is more towards them for trying to twist this situation so grossly and not towards anyone genuinely affected by whatever I apparently did (And I am not denying I did... I genuinely don't remember but like... Yeah it was definitely not great on my part if I did what they're saying even if my intentions were different, and the fact that I'm unsure is evidence enough to me that I might have)

Moreover, i have a hunch this anon has sent me bait before and I think it's nasty they're trying to twist an issue about antisemitism into whatever stupid beef they have with me. like... nasty.

Final edit: Any more asks from this anon are being deleted. I wouldn't have even published this one but I feel like that would be sort of hiding any wrongdoing i may have done at any point, but I genuinely do not believe this person means anything they're saying and are only doing this because for whatever reason they do not like me. and I. do not care lol

[birdantlers]

A heartfelt and grievously expanded-upon update to this—please, please read the whole thing if you can. reblogs much appreciated.

(DISCLAIMER, for all who are saying reasons like abusive parents/legal stuff/toxic ex/triggering memories/page got deleted/job/stalkers/bullying/[[insert any other shitty life thing]], This is not concerning that—personal safety & health ALWAYS comes first, and is worth more than any media ever could be. This is my biggest reason for defending that autonomy. I would be a hypocrite to say I hadn’t deleted triggering posts of mine or ones that got me in trouble with my family.)

it genuinely makes me sad and kinda upset when someone purges all their old art off the internet like. barring harmful content what if someone liked that. What if someone would have. And now nobody will ever know and it's just gone. even people's old invader zim askblogs or whatever getting deleted feels like a micro alexandria to me and that's just something I made up. I wasn't even thinking of a specific one it just stresses me out. Is this the autism I don't get why nobody else seems to freak internally abt it like I do. I see artists whose blogs I've never even looked at go like "man so glad I deleted all my old stuff it's so clean" or saying they throw out art from when they were kids I'm like. how are you not hurling. How is that not distressing that is literally your tree rings why would you do that. I want to see what's out there. people want to see it I promise someone out there likes it

...don't they??? Does everyone get quietly irrationally upset by this as me, or is this just hyperfixation/autism/some amalgam of the two. I'm not a hoarder or obsessive compulsive or anything like that so i wonder..

Anyways. reblog if you had a favorite amateur youtube animator in your childhood whose channel got nuked without a trace one day that you still think about.

I wanted to attach this video because it condenses my point very well. A TLDR of sorts. Please watch the whole thing, it genuinely changed the entire way I think about art as a concept.

(2nd vid is "Subjectivity in Art")

“The moment your art touches an audience, the ownership shifts in an irreversible way. [They're] not having an art experience with you and your intentions. They're having an art experience with the art object.

“You can't just burn your past; it's not even your past to burn anymore. It's other people's history as well. Whether or not you like it, that art is already bonded to somebody's soul, and if you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it.”

The digital age makes it very easy to distance or detach yourself from the impact your work has—be it art, fanfic, videos, even memes. Online content is as important to people now as any other media, if not more. But it's also by far the easiest, fastest, and most effective form of it to erase from public access. Media so unbelievably important to people and in general. Yes, you—with the 2010s purple sparkle dog speedpaint. I still think about that speedpaint all the time, because it was the first time i learned that you could draw on a computer, and I thought it was cool as hell. I still do.

I do wish there was a stronger culture of preservation and consideration for this, because every time I see people talk about snuffing their stuff because it doesn't personally resonate with them anymore, I just think ...what about all the people it did?

I've seen lots of people saying "get over it, it doesn't even matter," but it fucking does. It does matter. Even if I didn’t make it, even if I don’t have to deal with being the one who made it, even if I'm naturally inclined to be distressed by it—It still matters. And there’s nothing you could ever say to suddenly make it not matter, because there’s nothing you could ever say to make it not matter to me.

Don't devalue the act of creation. Don't dismiss something you made. It's out there, in people's thoughts and hearts and souls, and that is real. Even if you don't know it. Especially if you don't know it. Especially in a world where physical media is being snuffed out, the internet is constantly dying without any physical remains to recover, social isolation is rampant, and simply because independently produced content online is still media.

Fanfiction can hold equal or greater significance to someone as a book, but you can’t unpublish a book. Authors don’t have a button that can vaporize every copy of their work across all time, but fanfiction authors do. I’m not counting people who download fics either—when you buy a book, that transaction is over. But online, you have the power of unending transaction that can be terminated instantly at your will. The process of publishing fanfic vs. publishing a book may be different, but people’s connection to the art is the same intensity.

So yeah. I do get depressed about the Internet being a constant Alexandria, but the times I get the most depressed is when I click someone's page and see that all their work is gone because they're ‘curating a new aesthetic’ for their page or some shit. Or weeding out all the "ugly" art. Or just went on whatever the hell 'thrill deleting' is, because they just get a kick out of it.

Fuck it—yeah! It upsets me! I’m not wrong to say that. I’m saying it!

Under the cut, because it got long as shit! Also don’t worry the ending is way sappier and more ‘beauty of human nature’ vibe so it’s not all doom and gloom lol

What if that was someone's favorite art of that character. What if someone read that 'cringe oneshot' on the worst day of their life. What if that Warriors meme vid is still burned into a college student’s mind despite being gone for 10 years. What if it's actually not just you and the ones and zeros you rent out to the world—secure in knowing the original will always be on your computer for you to do whatever you want with it.

I really, deeply wish there was more of a general awareness of this, because even though social media can be used like a diary, that’s functionally the opposite of what it is. It’s social media. When you post, it’s no longer in a vacuum, even though you can’t see the real humans that content touches—often deeply.

Media is history. You shouldn’t burn that history just because you personally believe it isn’t worth saving.

Because it’s no longer just your personal opinion. It’s no longer just your personal work. it’s. history. Memory of media is not a suitable replacement for the media itself. If it was, we wouldn’t save anything at all. Nostalgia is an agent of that. The definition of nostalgia is grief for moments of the past that are inaccessible, and the biggest balm for that pain is accessing a physical reminder of those moments. That opinion of yours is no longer personal. It’s weighed against uncountable people across all time that your thing is ALSO personal to. People who would, and will mourn its absence.

How many times have you joined an older fandom only to discover that some of its most popular works are gone? How many times have you routed through random blogs looking for scraps people hopefully reblogged? how many times have you used Wayback machine desperately praying that a fan fiction or a YouTube video will be there? How many times do you look up crunchy old vines or YouTube videos or anime AMV‘s? How many times do you remember old fanfic.net sex that impacted you in middle school, only to shake your head and go ‘probably no point even looking.’

i mourn the absence. No, people can’t and shouldn’t have their agency over what they post revoked, but they should be conscious of that weight. If you’re reading this and getting extremely annoyed, and you’re not in the pink text above,,,, good.

I honestly do hope it gets under your skin. I hope it sits with you. I hope you feel it every time you hit that button, and whether or not you do hit that button—if you hesitate, if you remember this, even spitefully, I’ve done my job. I am howling into the void. And I may not want an answer, but I do want my anguish to be heard and remembered. Because it isn’t me just being melodramatic.

I know I sound that way writing so much, but if my favorite writing YouTuber can drop trow this week and go, "yeah, sorry, all my video essays from less than a year ago that you listen to in the car all the time? I'm "rebranding" my content so i deleted them. besides, my personal views don't really agree align with the analyses i did, or the techniques i taught in them anyway. Sorry if some of the literal tens of thousands of you used them, but I don't want to feel shackled to having youtuber "classics" tied to me”

….then i guess I'm just going to have to sound dramatic! That fucking sucks! Hours of work and knowledge gone! This was a new channel too. It’s very likely there’s no archive of any kind, because who would think someone who worked hard enough to write, record, and edit hour-long videos, would just turn around and nuke it all? I definitely didn’t see it coming, but I did just start a new screenwriting class a few weeks ago, so I’ll tell you at least one person is REALLY missing those fucking videos right now. Because a lot of them were about specifically screenwriting, which I know jack shit about. and that specific person’s pace, editing, and style of breaking down information was the best suited style I found that I could focus on and absorb. There’s no replacement for that. No alternative for his individual perspective. his jokes. his opinions.

No, they may not resonate with him now, but in this decision, he’s put up a big middle finger to everyone who might have. And he has like 100k subscribers! Those are confirmed supporters! Imagine how many silent and untethered observers are feeling this loss right now. Imagine how many will not have it in the future.

If he never posted them at all, we wouldn’t know we had it. It wouldn’t be a loss. But we did. We did have it. Until he decided that no, we didn’t, because he just happens to be the one out of millions of individuals holding the button to burn it in a hundredth of a second.

His personal work, the attachment I had to it, and the ways that it helped me are now just ripped away. I am one person out of millions, literal MILLIONS of people who saw and liked this content before it vanished. The soul has been ripped, the access severed, and by CJ’s (and my) definition, the art is functionally dead. Not for the YouTuber or anyone else lucky enough to save a link or download, but everyone else. From this point until the end of time, even if people even two weeks from now don’t know it. Even if someone who stumbles upon his channel today, doesn’t know it.

We only mourn the concept of Alexandria because we had some kind of scope for what was inside. Yes, maybe you got self-conscious and deleted your 12 year old deviant art account. Do you know who else is doing that?? THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS of other twenty somethings who ALSO feel self-conscious about their old socials. Art. Fanfic. One direction fan videos. anything.

Suddenly, an unquantifiable amount of information from your age group—an entire age group in 2012, is. gone. And we will NEVER know what’s been erased from that history. We will NEVER know what could have been significant to us ten years from now. Twenty years from now. A hundred years. A thousand.

You could have deleted a fanfic that would have been someone else’s new go-to panic attack distraction tomorrow. You could have deleted a video someone used to laugh at with their friend who died yesterday. When you delete something, you risk tearing a hole in unknowable personal histories.

The Internet isn’t just a big library of Alexandria. It’s a library containing libraries. And those libraries have their own libraries in those libraries have their own as well. libraries inside libraries, inside libraries, ad infinitum. To conceive the amount of destroyed history on the Internet is crushing.

And I just can’t help but I ask myself how in gods name people can choose to contribute to that, instead of reposting everything to trash heap alts titled “hall of shame” or some shit.

You can offload to alts. Put up disclaimers. Make password locked blogs, or dropboxes, or anonymous imgur dumps. Anonymous reuploads. Orphan fics. Make a playlist or linktree of unlisted videos. Cut off the watermarks. Delete all references to it on your main. Make a dedicated unlisted playlist. make a google drive. Make new portfolio sites. Delete any questions you get about it. Change pen names. Pretend it never existed.

Give a heads up.

Something.

But don’t. kill. the media.

The knowledge that our stuff is going to forever be tied to us is a cross we have to bear, but the responsibility that comes with putting it out there in the first place, can’t be ignored.

Anyway. I'm not trying to start conflict. This is not a bash on anyone, nor a call for witch hunts. Or anon hate, or blocks and unfollows or anything of that nature. I'm not wishing ramifications or hate of any kind on anyone who does wants to do any of this.

I'm also not guilt tripping— I am not saying that you should feel bad. I AM saying why it makes me feel bad. That’s not guilting, it’s a dialogue. One I personally feel is long overdue.

It's me yelling into the void: please consider the real people on the other side of the screen before you hit that button. Realize and know that whatever you're about to erase from history could be the most important thing in the world to someone.

Art is an experience. It's why we revisit it. If art and history simply lived in the matter and code of media, we would only need to look at it once. We wouldn’t put things in museums. We wouldn’t build libraries. We wouldn’t look up vine compilations.

If you're able, consider (and I do mean consider, this is not a call to action) not destroying that. And don’t shrug it off as some pretentious asshole venting on Tumblr. You only need to look in the notes and tags to see that it isn’t just me. it’s never just me, or you, or the pixels.

And even if you do shrug it off, then at least recognize that what you make matters. Whatever you think about it, if it’s out there, that's not your discretion anymore. If a tree falls in the woods and even one person is around to see it, it fucking mattered. Because it happened. Don’t mulch your tree rings if you don’t have to. Because if enough people do it, a whole forest is gone. Media is history, no matter whether you think it’s worth putting in a museum, or only has 30 notes.

Thousands of years ago, a child named onfim doodled on his homework. They’re crude, and everyone has the wrong amount of fingers, and they’re also priceless archaeological artifacts recognizable throughout the world.

the only thing separating Onfim’s doodles and your MS paint Pokémon doodles is time. The only thing separating your old MS paint Pokémon doodles from being a priceless artifacts, thousands of years in the future is time. Your creations are already priceless artifacts. No matter what you do, don't ever, ever deny that. It isn’t blowing up your own ass, it’s artistic and anthropological fact.

The mundane and the supposedly unworthy are often the first things lost to time, and that’s why they’re so precious. That’s why artists who were before their time are scorned first only to be celebrated later. Do you think they knew that was going to happen?? What if they nuked it? Many probably did! But now that’s happening exponentially and instantaneously everywhere, WITHOUT the artist having to destroy their only copy—which makes it way easier and more dismissable.

Sometimes, If you’re revolutionary enough, people will make an effort to preserve your work, but recognized and thoroughly recorded work is rare compared to unrecognized and thoroughly recorded work.

Sometimes something is beloved enough that it would be impossible for it not to go down in history, but even then it isnt a guarantee, and it’s rare. But if van Gogh burned all of his paintings in a fit of despair before his death, we would have no van Gogh. Because he wasn’t respected as an artist in his time, but that wasn’t what defined the worth of his art. The people after him did, because his art was still there for them.

If you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it. If you belittle your art, you belittle the very real relationships and emotions and revisitations people have with the media. You defy the inherent worth and weight of a creation. you created. That's effort. It's passion. No matter how flippant or unskilled or worthless you think it is, it matters. Because at the end of the day, you could have chosen to make nothing at all, and you didn't.

•

Muting notifs

[destiel-wings]

Are you incapable of making your own post? Why did you add on to that poor persons Merlin post when they dont care about Destiel? And youre too lazy to make your own gifs lol okay. Please dont add on to posts that arent yours. So fucking lazy and annoying.

Hey, if you're the op who made the post, I sincerely apologize. If you don't want that kind of addition i can delete it, no problem.

I love merthur and i love destiel too, and I added that scene from spn to make a comparison between the two ships. It wasn't meant to take anything away from the original post, but my intention was to give it a new light in addition (as people do on this site) by drawing a parallel with another piece of media. A lot of destiel fans love merthur too and i thought the op could get more reblogs and likes on their gif this way (reaching another fandom too).

I know how to make my own posts, I did plenty of them, actually.

What i don't know how to do is gifs, and i have deep appreciation for people who make them, and it is my understanding that they like exposure for their posts, so that their hard work can reach more people.

This is why i reblogged it.

My tags on the reblog were about both ships, i didn't deviate from the original post ignoring it to only talk about another ship (which would've been rude), so i didn't think it could be offensive in any way.

[griffonsgrove]

omg hello!! I saw you post those vox headcanons and wow I was literally kicking my feet and giggling LOL. I also saw you take requests right now! (at least that’s what it said in your rules) and I wanted to request something : D

could I request general alastor headcanons with a GN! Reader please ? :D

Thank you!

General Dating Headcanons | Alastor

a/n: Of course my dear!! I love how Alastor is portrayed in the series, he’s easily one of my favorite characters! I’ve been wanting to do these for quite a bit, so thank you for the request!

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Wordcount: 1991

Cw: Hazbin Spoilers, minor violence, mentions of death, murder

(PLATONIC):

Ah so you managed to capture the attention of the infamous Radio Demon? You should be honored he even considers you worth his time! Not most demons have that luxury, they never live long enough to see.

Al strikes me as the kind of guy who knows everyone, he’s very observant and has eyes everywhere (his shadow friends extend throughout the entirety of the pride ring). He’s got connections in just about anything. He’s bound to have at least seen you once.

That being said, he views other sinners as inferior to him, if you don't have any power, he doesn't really see you as much of a threat (let’s be honest even if you did, he still wouldn't feel threatened)

He’s quite intrigued when he sees a frail little thing like you walk through the hotel doors. You're here on your own free will, seeking redemption? Oh, this will be quite entertaining.

You’re well aware of who he is, having been in hell for quite some time, even before his 7 yearlong disappearance, you knew to be wary in his presence.

It often left you being timid or skittish around him at first.

The deer demon had a knack for popping up at the most inconvenient of times, out of nowhere it seems (perks of being able to shadow travel). He would scare the daylights out of you nearly every time. Whether it was intentional or not, it always got a good laugh out of him.

And that smile…He was always smiling, you can't ever recall a moment where he wasn't, not even a falter. It's definitely an intimidation tactic you think. After all, you're never fully dressed without one!~

Despite this, he’s a charmer. He has this flare about him that oozes confidence whenever he speaks with you, to anyone really. He’s able to talk his way into and out of anything. One of the many perks of being a showman. Alastor is witty, charming and entertaining to say the least. Life is never dull with him around.

And if you happen to be from the same time period?? It’ll only want him to be around you even more! Finally, someone he can relate to in this cesspool.

This man is quite the chatterbox. He looooves to reminisce about the good ol’ days, always talking about how things were in his radio days. He could talk for literal hours and not break a sweat. You’ll often have to politely interject when he rambles on for too long, not that he minds.

Did I mention he can cook too?? Really well, surprisingly. He claims he learned from his dearest mother. He had to put a name to her famous Jambalaya recipe! When you tried it for the first time your socks were nearly blown right off from how much cayenne pepper he put into it. He likes a little spice.

He's!! Always!! Humming!! The man loves to sing, he often finds himself absentmindedly humming old tunes from the 20’s as he goes about his day. Whether he’s out for a stroll, enjoying a nice cup of tea, or running around the hotel, he’s humming.

This has been stated before, but Alastor is not big on physical touch from others unless he's the one initiating it. There have been many times where he’s pulled you into a little dance or twirl while he explains something. It never fails to surprise you each time.

He’ll often use his microphone staff to push or touch something, more specifically someone. He doesn't like to touch sinners that often, God knows where they’ve been. You’ve seen him whack Angel upside the head with it before, the spider tried getting a little too close for comfort. But for you he’ll make an exception.

Very well groomed!! He puts a lot of effort into his appearance, and cares about how he projects himself to the public eye. His hair is always neatly styled to perfection, shoes shined, and is always dressed to the nines. I mean did you see how mad he got when Pentious ripped a part of his coat off?

As the two of you begin to spend some more time together, you find yourself often having little meetups, the both of you would chat, share a cup of tea and just enjoy each other’s company. He liked to sit on the patio, he had a little table, and everything set up for you two.

Alastor makes sure to keep an eye on you regularly. He may have his shadow sneak around and stalk you while you're out. He’ll use the excuse that ‘Hell is a dangerous place!’, He can't have some low-life sinner trying to harm you, that would make him a terrible friend!

Undeniably has a soft spot for you that he’ll never admit aloud, he genuinely enjoys your company and likes having someone around that will humor him and listen to his stories. Grandpa.

Overall, Al is quite a good friend to have, you feel like you can confide in him at any point, he’s surprisingly a wonderful listener. The more time you spend together only strengthens your little friendship. Even to the point where you both will grow to have a mutual respect for each other. He initially scared you at first, given his reputation, but underneath all the ruthless chaos is a true gentleman.

(ROMANTIC):

My man is sooo conflicted at first, He’ll spend hours in his den thinking about his feelings. (We’ve all seen the inside of his room, literally half of it is a swamp). The scenery can only soothe him so much as he contemplates on what to do.

This is probably where you will begin to less and less of him for a time being as he works out his inner turmoil.

But, once he finally comes to terms with these undeniable feelings, he decides to confront you privately, away from any prying eyes. Ahem Angel…

Very old-fashioned, this is where he will properly ask to court you. 

You’ll never know this but he was actually kind of nervous, he was worried you’d reject his offer, but imagine to his surprise when you said yes!! He kind of felt giddy.

Congratulations! You now have a cannibalistic deer overlord as your boyfriend

He’s such a gentleman, I literally cannot say it enough, the man was raised right and he respects you! 

You literally never have to open a door with him around. He holds your chair out for you, always walks on the outer side of the sidewalk, pays for every meal and is constantly giving you compliments left and right. And they say chivalry is dead.

Alastor loves to gift flowers to you. Every few weeks or so he’ll give you a new bouquet. They're different each time, some have a meaning while others he simply thought you’d enjoy. You have a special place in your room where you keep them.

Now that you’re in a relationship, the two of you are basically joined at the hip. Wherever you are, Alastor is not far behind. He doesn't want to admit it but the overlord is kind of clingy. He doesn't like being too far from you.

If there’s ever a reason he has to be away from you, he’ll often have a few of his little imp dolls watch after you. You always thought they were cute little fellas anyways.

The both of you aren't exactly private about your relationship, but at the same time you’re not screaming it out from the rooftops either. Alastor is well aware of the dangers you could possibly face due to his status. He’s made a lot of enemies in his time, and doesn't want to see you get hurt on his behalf.

That being said though, no demon in their right mind would try to threaten you.

God forbid they touch you either. They’d be ripped in half before they could even get another word out. 

He's fiercely protective over you. He tries to play it off as nonchalantly as possible, but you know he cares about you immensely, it’s rather sweet really.

Now about physical affection. Things will go very slowly in the beginning, as said before he's fine with things as long as he's the one initiating it. If you two are out for a stroll you’ll have your arm gently looped with his as you walk down the chipped sidewalks. You’ll have to be extremely patient with him, he’s not used to this “love” and “affection”

If you’re ever having a bad day however, he’ll slip out of his comfort zone for you, and allow you to hold onto him for as long as you please, in the privacy of your own room of course.

One of his favorite things to do with you, is to slow dance. There's something so intimate and special about it. It could be late into the evening, when everyone else had gone to their respective rooms for the night, If you listen closely though, you’ll hear the soft hum of music coming from Alastor’s den, he has you in his arms, the both of you gently sway in a slow waltz across the room to the quiet love songs emitting from his radio. It’s here that you truly savor these private moments with him.

Speaking of music, Al loves to sing to you. Oftentimes it may be a ballad or love song, and if you join in with him? He’ll fall for you even more. 

Cooking! He loves to whip up all his favorite dishes just for you, oftentimes you’ll help him in the kitchen, even if it’s the smallest thing. It's become an annual thing you two like to do together. He makes sure that you get only the best meat that this side of hell can provide.

He’ll often call you a mix of different pet names, here's a few of his favorites: Cher, Darling, Beloved, Dearest, Love, Mon Amour, Doll

Which btw on the topic of meat, Al is canonically a cannibal, he’ll often eat demon meat in his meals, and will have you try it at least once.

Admittedly has gotten slightly jealous of his own shadow. The mischievous thing was always trying to steal your attention away from him, oftentimes it would work, you would always give in and humor him, saying that ‘Even his shadow needed some loving too!’. With a strained smile, Alastor shoots a glare at the inky mass of himself, who just looks at him with a smug grin.

Will have you meet Rosie at least once. She’s one of his other closest friends, and a real sweetheart. At first she comes off as really scary and intimidating. but the more you get to know her, and she's for certain that you wont hurt her friend, she’s much more friendlier. 

You two actually bond together somewhat, having little chats about Alastor occasionally, or about her business.

It’s safe to say that this man would kill hundreds if not thousands for you. You have him wrapped around your little finger. If you ever have someone bothering you, they might as well already be dead, because this man will hunt them down like prey. And eat them too.

Honestly, Alastor as a lover is nothing short of wholesome. He’s so attentive and caring when it comes to you. Which is so refreshing to see, especially coming from one of hell’s most feared overlords. Things will most likely start of slow, but if you’re patient with him, all the hard work will be rewarded tenfold. He had initially thought the Princess of Hell’s Hotel was one of the biggest jokes of the century, but what he wasn't expecting was you to be one of the best things to come out of it. You both were cast down to suffer an eternal damnation in hell, but at least now you can endure it together <3.

[ice-eise-babyy]

Highlight | J.B.B

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Summary: A single comment takes a toll at your self-confidence, unintentionally pushing bucky away.

Warnings: really fluffy, slight angst (so slight you won't even feel it), implied smut, Sharon (unintentionally) being a bitch, cursing (real brief)

A/N: loosely inspired by a real life event. I do request so please go slide in my asks. that's it. Happy reading!!

Bucky loved you.

Every atom, essence, and fiber of you, he loved. There was nothing about you that could change his perception of you.

He had learned to memorize every inch of you with his eyes closed; Using only his tongue, fingers, and lips. Making a mental map of each dip and curve, every scar and mole, and all of your smile lines and wrinkles. Not only that but also your whole being. He knew you so well that he could tell what you wanted— what you needed before you could even say it. It was like a telepathic connection...

That's why it didn't take him long to figure out that something was wrong.

It was never your intention to make Bucky worry.

It all started with a small comment...

You had just finished showering in the gym shower after your training. Your body was wrapped in a towel that was way too short for your liking. displaying the stretch marks on your outer thighs, making you chew the insides of your cheeks.

And as if it wasn't enough to make you self-conscious, "Woah... That's some marks you've got there y/n..." It was Sharon as she entered the gym shower. Sounding perplexed and repulsed by the sight.

"Yeah.." you said, masking the rising insecurity with a faux chuckle before getting the hell out of there.

You ignored the twisted feeling in your stomach and the lingering embarrassment her words had caused. Brushing it off and pretending like you weren't affected by it. But soon it was eating you up like mites on wood. Nipping and nibbling at the last bits of self-assurance that you have.

It was affecting you so much that you hadn't even noticed that you were starting to distance yourself from Bucky...

Bucky, knowing you better than he knows himself, immediately noticed this. He didn't miss how you'd flinch at his touch. he caught how you'd recoil and pull away whenever he sought a hug or a kiss. It didn't go over his head when you started wearing more layers than just his shirt.

Of course, he was worried... But he pushed the worries away thinking that maybe you were just tired...

Weeks went by, yet you continued to distance yourself from him. He didn't want to think about it too much or ask you about it, afraid that it would only push you further.

So he convinced himself that you just wanted a bit of space. Especially now that you were getting some actual rest since you were jam-packed with missions and meetings the previous month.

It wasn't until last night...

˚‧⁺  ･ ˖ ·˚ ⋆｡˚ ˚‧⁺

"Sure, thanks Steve..." You bid Steve goodbye as you got off the elevator, just now getting home from your first mission of the month.

You opened the door with ease, not wanting to make any noise as you entered your shared room with Bucky. Tiptoeing as you entered, concerned that you'd wake him up.

"Hey, doll..." Your whole body jolted as you heard him, his voice sounding hoarse with sleep.

You simply looked in his direction and gave him a lopsided smile,

Just a smile?

"Go to sleep..." You told him as you left him to shower...

He in fact did not go to sleep. He waited for you. Wanting to wrap his arms around you and kiss away your exhaustion from the mission.

"I told you to go to sleep, bucky." he looked in your direction, admiring how adorable you looked in his hoodie and some basic sweatpants.

"How can I?" He shrugged as if it was the most obvious question, "you're not here with me.." he added, extending his arms out for a hug.

You gulped, hesitating for a little while longer. Soon giving in as you saw the expecting look on his face. His slate blue eyes glimmered in the darkness as you walked over to him.

He sighed, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Burying his face in your clothed stomach as you stood there.

"I missed you," he nuzzled into you more, "so damn much." He said as he finally pulled away, looking up at you with those pretty blue eyes.

He wanted to stay like this with you. He needed to stay like this with you...

The pad of his fingers dug into your hips as his grip tightened, pulling you to his lap.

"I missed you too..." You said, your fingers playing with the hair on the back of his head...

It was like all your worries were thrown out the window as he held you by the neck and captured your lips with his. Kissing you with such need and longing. It was as if a huge wave of relief washed over you... Until his hands started exploring under your hoodie.

All your insecurities resurfaced as you recalled the marks that you were hiding under these layers of clothing. Sharon's words replaying in your head like a broken record.

No...

It was like your body was moving on its own accord. Your breathing lodged in your windpipe as you realized that you had unintentionally pushed him away... Your hands trembling as they hovered mid-air, a short distance away from his chest which you had just shoved away...

"I..." You started but it was like the words were caught in the back of your throat...

You felt guilt settling in the pit of your stomach as you saw the pain flickered amongst the flecks of navy in his eyes that Momentarily looked down before looking back at you, helping you off his lap.

One...

Breathe...

Two...

She's just tired...

Three...

Be understanding...

"It's... It's fine..." The reassurance tasted bittersweet on his lips, a tight-lipped smile decorating his features...

You felt like the knot of guilt in your stomach was about to snap as you didn't fail to notice how his smile didn't reach his eyes... Or how the inflection of his voice came across as insincere, strained, hurt...

He's hurt... Because of me...

He wasn't hurt, no.

Hurt was something a 3-year-old would say if he scraped his knee. Hurt was something a teenager felt when he got his heart broken from puppy love. Hurt is something minor. Something that can be easily cured with words...

This? This was neglect.

He felt neglected... He felt like you were drifting a bit too far...

Too far from him...

˚‧⁺  ･ ˖ ·˚ ⋆｡˚ ˚‧⁺

He has never been the type to openly talk about what he felt... But this— this thing you were doing? It was just unbearable... In ways that no simple words formed by letters could describe. And what's worst about this was it was you.

So, he ultimately decided that he had enough of it...

You were comfortably reading a book on the couch. The cap of your purple highlighter in between your lips as you highlight lines from your book with it. The bright color perfectly emphasizing your favorite parts.

A few other teammates were also in the living room. Respectfully busied themselves with whatever task they had at hand when suddenly, a very upset-looking bucky came storming into the living room with a scowl on his face.

"Let's talk. Now. In private." He snatched the book from your hand and tossed it on the coffee table automatically catching your attention

Confusion etched your face as you looked up at him, your knuckles turning white as your grip tightened around the highlighter.

"What are you—!" Your question abruptly interrupted, the world turning upside down as he threw you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing.

The rest of the team looked at one another with puzzled looks, watching you writhe as he walked away with you on his shoulder like a bag of rice.

"Bucky!" You squealed, thrashing against the super soldier while you repeatedly told him to put you down. The purple ink from the highlighter in your hand staining his white tank top.

"Talk." Was all you heard as you landed on the bed with a guttural 'oof'

"Rude!" He gave you an unamused look, crossing his arms as his gaze followed you as you propped yourself.

Sighing as he saw that familiar pout on your lips.

"I'm worried about you..." You felt a shiver run down your spine as he walked towards you.

"What do you mean...?" You facepalmed mentally as your words came out trembling.

You were sweating, not wanting to talk about anything any further. You already knew where this was going...

And you didn't like it...

"You're just..." He paused, looking for the right words, "You're not being you... And you—" he cut himself off, noticing how you moved away when he sat beside you. "You keep doing that"

"That? What's 'that'?"

"You keep distancing yourself from me..." You felt the guilt gnawing as you heard the way his voice sounded so defeated.

You never wanted to worry him, and you never would want to. But looking at the situation at hand made you realize how much you got drowned by your self-doubt that you had been depriving him of the truth...

You felt torn as you sat there staring into the hazy silver hue in his blue eyes, the distress and yearning flickering in them.

You wanted to tell him about everything. You wanted to tell him how Sharon's words made your confidence falter. You wanted to show him why...

But it scared you...

The mere thought of his repulsed expression made your heart sink to your toes.

"I don't know if I've done something wrong. If I've said something you didn't like. If I had been too much. If you need space—"

"No! It's not like that..." Your eyes widened as you heard his rambling,

He's blaming himself...?

"I just... It's..." He held your hand, soothing you through your anxious state...

He hated seeing you like this

"Please... Please tell me.." you let out a shaky breath. Your fingers fiddled with the highlighter as you closed your eyes for a moment to collect yourself.

The moment you opened your eyes and witnessed the unshed tears gloss over his pretty eyes was the exact moment you figured that you had lost at whatever this was...

Your hands fidgeted with the highlighter as you told him everything he needed to know— from the stretch marks that had you questioning your self-worth to Sharon’s comment that rang in your ears like a constant reminder. You just laid it all out there, hoping he’d understand how much it had gotten to you. Even though you knew it still wasn't enough of an excuse for how you've treated him...

The tears prickled your eyes as they pooled; you felt so small. So vulnerable around him... Just how you liked it.

"I'm so proud of you for telling me doll..." The pad of his thumb swiping away the single tear that rolled down your face...

"Can I see...?" You looked at him with wide eyes, why would he want to see such a sight?

"James..." His name slipped from your lips as a hesitant whisper, but your thoughts became a jumbled mess when he suddenly got off the bed and kneeled in front of you, looking up at you with those big blue eyes...

"Please...?" He pleaded, removing the highlighter before holding your hands in his.

Your man was literally on his knees for you, his eyes wide with hope and vulnerability, like he was silently begging for an answer. His voice was so full of genuine longing and yearning. How could you say no to that? At that moment, with your heart swelling, saying anything but yes felt impossible.

You meekly nodded and he looked like a kid on Christmas morning, beaming with a grin.

Goosebumps formed on your skin as you felt his hands twisting with the waistband of your pajama shorts. He looked up at you as though to ask for permission so you granted it with another nod. You lifted your hips for him to fully remove them.

Suddenly, you felt the insecurity clawing at your neck; feeling exposed and just... Bare as you sat there in just your tank top and underwear. Displaying parts of your body that only he had the privilege of seeing.

You pressed your knees together, knowing that the marks only get worse around the insides of your thighs...

Bucky didn't like this... But he had more than one way to keep those legs spread for him...

"So pretty..." he murmured, his voice soft and full of admiration as his hand gently held your calf as if you would wither under his touch if he wasn't careful enough. His other hand was doing the total opposite by holding your other leg in place and slightly spreading it. He leaned in, pressing a series of slow, lingering kisses from your knee, his lips feather-light as they brushed against your skin. He moved up to the side of your thigh, each kiss seemed to carry a silent promise, a vow of how much he adored every inch of you. The warmth of his breath and the tenderness in his eyes made your heart stutter, filling you with a sense of love and security that felt overwhelming.

You let out a whine, desperate and needy when you felt him detach his lips from your skin. Already yearning for the sensation of his lips on you. "What are you doing?" Gazing at him curiously as he took the highlighter in his hand

He didn't answer.

Holding your knee in one hand to avoid them from blocking his line of sight. His mind was in a whirlwind as he saw the marks.

They're beautiful

How dare you deprive him of this.

You gasped as you felt the cold ink of the highlighter on your skin. Bucky moved his hand gracefully as he left traces of bright purple along your stretch marks, tucking his lower lip between his teeth as he concentrated.

"What are you doing, James?" Another attempt for an answer as you watch his hand in between your legs only to be met with silence once again.

He pulled away once he finished, a satisfied look on his face. Looking at his work with such pride in himself. It was beautiful. You were beautiful. Nothing could ever compare to this, to you. No art made by Monet, Renoir, or even Van Gogh could ever come close to how ethereal you looked...

"This," he started, his fingers gently tracing the trails of purple ink on your skin, "This is to remind you that I will always love all of you"

You bit back a smile as you looked down at him; the lovesick look in his eyes told you that his words exude nothing but honesty. And it was as if everything was just now sinking into your skull. Crimson tinted your cheeks, heating up as you realized that you were half naked with a super soldier in between your legs. Kneeling for you.

You let out a strangled moan as he pressed his lips on your skin once more. Trailing wet kisses to your inner thigh, inhaling as his nose poked your clothed core. You smelled so sweet...

"You think you're getting off the hook that easy?" You gulped so hard that he probably heard it, you couldn't help yourself. How could you when Bucky was looking up at you like someone who hasn't been fed for the past few months? The warmth of his blue eyes dissipated as it was replaced by something familiar but different... Something feral.

"Spread those pretty legs for me, doll. I'm going to fuck you until you're finally convinced that every part of you is perfect"

[dcxdpdabbles]

Oh my god, you laid out freelance inventor perfectly for the justice league to mistake Danny for Batman, especially with John Jones already making his thoughts known that Bruce wayne would be the perfect himbo for Batman lol. Does the entire league pull together to make a beach day seem intentional and end up making so many mistaken assumptions along the way? Either way, I adore what you have going. I'm kinda curious if you had any thoughts on Damians' first reaction to meeting Danny? If not, that's okay. I just love the thought of Danny bonding with Damian in a feral way or through sparing like ghosts tend to in this fandom

The first time Danny meets Damian Wayne is when he comes to the Manor for a surprise visit. He usually would have called ahead or messaged Alfred, but it was a last-minute decision to stop by Gotham on his way to Metropolis.

Initially, Danny was going to a technology expo hosted by Lexcorp, but it was delayed due to a giant fight. A robot had flung Superman through the convention hall, causing severe damage.

Since he now had a weekend free while Lexcorp searched for a new venue, he figured he would spend it with his favorite one percent. Imagine his surprise when he noticed the first thing he noticed was that Bruce had a biological son, one he had told to stay hidden.

He had told his displaced son not to venture out of the manner because he didn't want the public to know about him. Danny hadn't felt this angry in a long, long time.

The glare he sent Bruce had the man flinching, causing Damian, fresh to the Manor and not used to seeing his Father as anything but commanding, to raise an impressed eyebrow. "Kids. Bed. Now. I want to talk to your Father."

"No." Bruce cowered. "Please stay, kids."

"Sorry Bruce, I actually have to touch up some photos for this month's photo op," Tim was quick to say, jumping from his seat.

"I also really need to get started on some paperwork for the gymnastic gym." Dick laughed nervously, dropping out of the handstand he was in. Danny never understood how the young man could randomly spring into flips and handstands.

Damian did not inch from his chair, though. He meets Danny's gaze with a cool upturn of his nose and crossed arms.

"You have no control over me or my actions, Harlot," Damian hissed, but a pale Dick and Tim pushed him out. Jason had been out on some far-off island trip with his friends- Roy, Kori, Artemis, and that delightful Bizzarro who spoke like it was an opposite day every day.

He was the only person to whom he would not talk to Damian. Everyone else would look Danny in the eye and justify why they would assume that a child should be treated as a secret was the correct thing to do.

"Well?" Danny asks when all Bruce does is sit there, hands on his lap and sweating. He narrows his eyes, crosses his arms, and watches the sweat drip down Bruce's head. "Explain yourself."

"Danny, I swear I wasn't aware of Damian. His mother told me she had a miscarriage. If I had known, I would have told you-" Bruce started but was cut off by Danny marching across the room and practically snaring into his face.

"That's not why you're in trouble, Bruce. Why are you treating a nine-year-old boy like a dirty secret?!"

"um..well, that's...you need to understand he's a bit unstable-"

"Choose your next words very carefully, Bruce." Danny cuts him off, recrossing his arms. Bruce swallows before he seems to gather unknown courage and straightens out his back.

"Danny, I don't think Damian needs to be a secret forever, but he needs to adjust before he can go out. He had a hard life with his birth mother and tends to lash out in violent outbursts. Just last week, he pushed Tim off the stairway!"

That's alarming. In fact, it isn't very good to think Tim would not be safe in the same household as Damian. They talk more about it, especially the part where Damian makes clear he wishes to replace Tim and would do nothing to remove him.

Damian is a threat to Tim's well-being. He mentions this to Bruce, who waves it way like a damn fool.

"Tim can handle it."

"Just because he can doesn't mean he should," Danny growls, throwing his arms into the air. "I can't talk to you right now. I can't even look at you."

"Danny, please-"

"Nope. I will tell Tim to stay with me, and I will make plans to take Damian out and about. If you treat someone like a criminal, they will act like one. I'm going to help that young boy settle here, but I will not do it at the expense of another. Don't call or message me." Danny growls, strutting out of the room only to practically run into Damian.

The boy raises his chin as if daring Danny to tell him off for eavesdropping. For one second, Danny is reminded of Jazz, back when she had been so insistent that she was an adult.

His eyes soften, and he knows Damian can see based on his surprise blink. "H kid have you had the chance to go into Gotham yet?"

"Why would I waste my time with the peasants? I am an elite warrior, destined to rule over them."

Huh. He reminds Danny a lot of Jazz now, with her anti-social tendencies- not that she refused to be around people, more like she refused to make friendships with people her age because she thought herself too mature for them- and a little of the battle-hungry ghosts in the Zone.

He can handle that.

"You are to be a general, right? Why are you acting like a common foot soldier?" He asks, watching the boy's entire demeanor freeze over. "A good ruler is not just combat strength. They can take command and can easily step among their fighters. How can you do that if you do not understand the common folk's way of thinking?"

Damian opened and closed his mouth before narrowing his eyes. "You mock me."

Danny shakes his head, falling to his knees so Damian won't need to strain his neck. He keeps the baby talk out of his voice but only barely. He gets the sense that like his sister, Damian would prefer to be treated like a mini adult. "Never. I'm genuinely interested in your thoughts, but you must know that all knowledge is power. Know thy enemy..."

"...as one knows thyself," Damian finishes his quote, looking vaguely intruded. He considers the offer before nodding. "I shall accompany you on your outing and gain valued observations of the average American child."

"Only after you apologize for attacking Tim and tell him to his face how you will not be doing that again," Danny warns, raising a finger at Damian's clouded face. "A good leader does not want insubordination. Attacking Tim did not prove anything but how unreliable you are and how much you fear Tim."

"I do not fear Drake!"

"Then why does his presence so threaten you? Bruce told me how out of all his kids, you seemed so sure you could take him in a fight but not a battle of wits."

Damian's eyes grow cold before he lashes out a hand. Danny catches it quickly, much to the boy's shock. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. "Not bad, but not what a regular American child would behave. You would have been singled out as a spy the second you stepped in the street."

"....I shall work on my reaction and emotional regulation." Damian yanks his arm free, striding away but not before glancing back at Danny. "You are strange."

Danny smiles. "Thanks, kiddo."

The boy vanishes from sight, and Danny sighs. He must now find Tim and help him pack to stay with him. He also needs to yell at everyone in the Manor, including Alfred. Honestly, that man enables Bruce far too much.

[mrsmothermaximoff]

Taste Test

Pairing: older wife wanda x wife reader

summary: You watch your older wife Wanda innocently cook dinner for the both of you, when she takes a quick taste test you start craving something far more delicious than what you both had in mind

Tags: 18+ Minors DNI hickeys, swearing, fingering, oral sex, mommy kink, legal age gap

You sat patiently on the counter, watching your beautiful wife in her element. She swayed gracefully to the music, as every lyric fell off her tongue with ease.

She danced around the kitchen, singing, "la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la means I looove yooouu~" coming up to nuzzle your nose. There was something so magical about her voice. It wasn't good, by any means, but still, it was magical.

"now I don't wear a diamond riiing, I don't even know a song to siiing, all I know is~" she held your hands, resting her forehead on yours, "la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la means I looove yooouu~".

Nobody could melt you like she does, every little thing about her made you crave her love, her passion, her touch, just her.

She giggled at your doe-eyed expression, kissing your lips softly and moving down to kiss your jawline with a feather-like touch. You smiled at her intently, "When did I get so lucky?" She laughed pulling your shoulders in gently, "5 years ago when you kissed me for the first time". You nodded slowly, pretending you had just realized something, "Ohh that's right", you laughed into each other's lips, and she went back to checking the progress of her sauces.

She licked the tip of the spoon slowly, humming at the taste and smiling at her little success, licking some from the sides of her lips.

Your body tensed up, she didn't notice, too caught up in the music. Normally she'd put on little shows just to tease you, but something about the innocence of her intentions made you want her in the most inappropriate ways one can imagine. She danced and hummed along as you watched her body, flowing like the sea.

You attempted to shake it off, but had no luck when she dipped her finger into the mixture again carefully, slowly sliding it into her mouth. You watched her the entire time, trying to hold in a groan. It was only once she had sucked the middle of her knuckle that she saw the lust in your eyes that were watching her movements with deep focus.

She paused, realizing how dirty her actions may have come across. Blushing madly, she put the spoon down and wiped her hands on her apron. Her attempt to hide her arousal only pushed you further, pulling her body into yours against the counter. "You've had your little taste, it's my turn."

She swallowed thickly, feeling a pool of wetness drip down her silky thighs, as you kissed down her neck leaving love bites. "Those sauces smell wonderful, but I'm craving something even more delicious." She closed her eyes sighing, pulling you lower and lower, until you reached her clothed center.

You pulled her bottoms down gently, giving you a perfect view of her glistening cunt, before gently licking a stripe up her clit as she held your head letting out silent moans.

"More, please I need more" You smiled at her desperate tone, pulling her panties down completely before moving in to devour her helpless warmth. She held you tightly, screaming and yelling.

You lifted her leg to allow you more access, "F-fuck! Oh Y/N" she whined, rutting herself against you, grinding on your face in a soft, yet filthy manner. You groaned into her clit, slowly slipping two fingers inside her completely.

Your thrusts were the furthest thing from gentle, and as you watched her nose scrunch in pleasure, your imagination grew dirtier. You took the spoon that had some leftover sauce and spread it across her thigh as she gasped. Little licks being placed across her plushy legs, tasting the sauce mix with the arousal that had dripped down from your antics. Your thrusts sped up and her cries could be heard through the entire house.

"Fuck! Please!" You smirked and nodded, enclosing her wetness with your mouth as she came, emptying herself completely, just for you.

You held her hands helping her calm down, wetting and using a kitchen towel to clean her up. She held you securely in her arms, her form taller and stronger than you. Sometimes you forget she's older with the way she gives herself to you so tenderly.

You held each other for what felt like a lifetime as the classic music continued playing, before you pulled away to kiss her eyes gently.

"Dinner tastes lovely."

Taglist: @1800-lemonadeg1rl @alexawynters @itsmypeach13 @wandaslittleweirdo @katebishopfan @ahintofchaos @julieromanoff @simpforlizzie @halsnaksns @whore4gwen @andersonsprincess

[koiifysh]

Older! Neighbor Nanami who just moved in to the house next to yours.

Older! Neighbor Nanami to whom you smiled when you saw him standing in front of his door with a cardboard box.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who blushes a little receiving that innocent little smile from you.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who sees you from his balcony everyday. ‘Such a nice girl’ he thought.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who doesn't really talk much with the other people in the neighborhood. He keeps to himself. But you strike up a conversation every now and then, which he doesn't seem to mind.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who helps you carry your groceries inside by not letting you hold a single bag. He carries them all himself.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who thinks of you when he sees strawberry shortcakes displayed on his favorite bakery on his way home from work.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who finds you extremely cute because of your height. You were so small.

Older! Neighbor Nanami always listened to you so intently. The way he kept eye contact while listening made your heart skip a beat.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who secretly grows tulips for you in his because you once mentioned it was your favorite flower.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who comes to discover that he is much older than you.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who couldn't help but fall for you rather quickly. You're so cute and just so nice to him. Always caring for him, giving him that sweet innocent smile.

Older! Neighbor loves when you invite him for dinner when he has a bad day at work. You just seem to notice every time. And that makes him so lovesick.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who starts to distance himself from you after realizing his feelings. It wasn't right. You were much younger than. If you found out you'd probably feel disgusted with him.

But his feelings weren't of lust.

Older! Neighbor Nanami held pure love for you. Your presence brought comfort and light to him. You were such a nice girl. Always looking out for him even though he's the one older.

Older! Neighbor Nanami was scared. He was scared of scaring you away. So he locked himself away from you.

But he didn't realize this would end up affecting you, in a negative way of course.

When you saw how he started to avoid you all of a sudden, you thought maybe you had done something wrong. Did you annoy him? Maybe he was tired of your constant chit chat. Maybe he wanted some space. Or maybe..he didn't like you anymore.

That last thought made your heart heavy.

Unbeknownst to your older! Neighbor Nanami, you'd fallen for him the moment you locked eyes with him. He was so kind, so mature. Better than any man you've ever met. Always listening to you. Being a comfort to you. Day by day, you wanted more of him.

But Older! Neighbor Nanami didn't know about anything of this. He only distanced himself more for your 'own good'.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who was dying inside to see you. You were a part of his everyday life. The only good thing in his monotonous life.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who stopped seeing you at the balcony. It was killing him not seeing you. To not knock on your door and confess.

It was as if he's wish came true. In a different way.

Older! Neighbor Nanami was surprised when his doorbell rang one evening and saw it was you.

Older! Neighbor Nanami got a bad feeling when you told him you 'wanted to ask something.'

“Sure, please go ahead.”

Older! Neighbor Nanami who's heart broke a little when you asked him, “Did I do something to make you not like me?”

Not like you? He was in love with you.

Older! Neighbor Nanami who couldn't look at your innocent doe eyes. He didn't know how to answer that.

Feeling defeated you stood up. “Sorry, I...” You looked away. “I shouldn't have come here.”

Just as you were about to walk away, a hand on your wrist stopped you.

“W-Wait a minute.. please.”

This was his only chance.

His heart was beating so fast. He never meant to make you feel like this. He thought maybe if he distanced himself you would eventually move on with your life. A feeling of guilt resided in him for making you feel this way.

“The reason I've been kind of distant is because -”

Older! Neighbor Nanami let's out a deep breath and

puts his hand behind your head and pulls you in for a kiss. His other hand on your back. It's like he got you caged.

You were probably going to hate him after this. Run away from him. And before that happens he wanted to kiss you. To feel your soft lips against his.

And to his surprise, you kissed him back. Did not resist. He didn't know if it was a heat of the moment thing but it didn't matter. He needed you.

He wanted you

He pulls you further in to deepen the kiss. He's got you completely caged. His hand making your hair a mess. Your hands on his chest. You slightly pulled his collar for more.

You always liked his formal office wear. Suits and ties were made for him. And when he rolled his sleeves in front of you at the dinner table over your place, you had to excuse yourself to the every time for that because your face would heat up. Not to mention the uncontrollable pounding on your chest.

A kiss so passionate that it left you two breathless. Flushed faces. Hands still on his chest and his on your back.

“I have fallen for you.”

Older! Neighbor Nanami couldn't look at you in the eyes. He was sure you hated him. Felt disgusted by him. But your head on his shoulders said otherwise.

His heart was pounding so fast that he was sure you felt it too.

“I've...fallen for you too.” And you held on to him tightly.

Older! Neighbor Nanami was so ecstatic that he wanted to kiss you again. But instead he held you close to his chest, burying his face in your hair.

He is never letting you slip away again.

He's not old just, older ;)

[copperbadge]

Recently I ran across an article about an art center that was doing creative expression classes for people with disabilities. Not that unusual, I've encountered that and trauma-oriented art therapy before, but it was the first time I'd come across the idea since getting diagnosed with ADHD. While the class was aimed more at high-needs disabilities, it occurred to me that I could -- if I wanted -- make non-prose art about being disabled.

Outside of my work in scene design I've never been much of a visual artist because I've never felt I had the combination of "something to say" and "a meaningful way to say it", but I started to question how meaningful and complex I really had to be to just make some statements about having ADHD. I can do it in prose, after all.

So I started thinking about how you would talk, in visual language, about things like time blindness, shame stemming from undiagnosed disability, the shift in behavior that medication can induce. Ways to express my condition to people who don't experience it. I still didn't really know how to build the pieces but whenever I went to an art museum I'd think about how I might do a gallery installation. The centerpiece of my mental gallery was a pair of barcodes, one marked "Neurotypical" and one marked "Neurodivergent".

[ID: An interior view of a small booklet, with pages marked 1 and 2, showing barcodes -- on the left, labeled Neurotypical, and on the right, in slightly weirder configuration, labeled Neurodivergent.]

And then I thought, why not make a zine? Nothing you're thinking of couldn't be put in zine form instead of on a gallery wall.

[ID: The booklet continues to pages 3 and 4; on page 3 is a postage-style label reading AUTISM with up arrows on either side, and on page 4 is a QR code labeled ADHD. The QR code technically should work but it just dumps a block of text I wrote about having ADHD into a browser.]

I grew up with zine culture in the 90s and I always wanted to make one but much like with visual art, I never felt like I had the right kind of thing to say; either I had too much to say or too little, and anyway I wasn't confident that what I wanted to do wouldn't just come off as trite and obvious. But you can make a six-page zine out of a single sheet of paper, so I did: I made Helpful Labels For Strange Brains by idab zines, a division of Extribulum Press. (i--dab is a term for a cuneiform tablet that contains a royal communication.)

[ID: The last two pages feature the same image -- a cereal bowl with a spoon in it, the spoon containing a single Adderall pill. One image, however, is captioned "Wake up. Pour yourself a cup of iced coffee. Fix a bowl of cereal. It's going to be a good day." while the other is covered in a detailed ADHD-style step-by-step process for the same actions, culminating in "It's going to be a day like that."]

I'm pretty pleased with how it came out -- the art all looks intentional and it still has that "taped this together after school" aesthetic I remember fondly from the 90s. And the confines of six pages, each only a few inches square, offers a good structure to keep things clear, simple, and meaningful.

[ID: The cover of the zine, labeled "Helpful Labels For Strange Brains" in a kind of esoteric stampy font.]

Especially nice is that if you wanted to you could just hand out the flat sheet, and let folks fold it into a booklet or not -- there's instructions for folding it on the back of the zine. Additionally I have some sticker backed printer paper so I could print it such that you could literally turn the labels into real labels.

Anyway if you want it, here ya go. You can print it on a single sheet of paper and follow the instructions on the back to fold it. I thought about selling it but I do not have the spoons to do a bunch of printing and folding and shipping.

[ariestrxsh]

🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, teasing, masturbation, edging, innocence corruption, blowjob, mommy kink, praise, small age gap, pervy!virgin!chris, sub!chris, older!reader, softdom!reader, slow burn

🖤 author' note: 🖤 spoiler - there's a scene in this fic where chris saves the reader's nude without her permission. please don't ever do this irl. it's messed up.

🖤 summary: 🖤 chris might be a virgin, but he's certainly not innocent. while helping chris study for chemistry 101, he admits to you he's never done anything sexual, but the whole time he's undressing you with his eyes. you're both stubborn and waiting for the other person to make the first move. who will cave first?

Thank you to @jakewebberswifee for the pervy!virgin!chris idea. I immediately saw the vision when I saw this one in my asks, and I hope that you think I did it justice. (':

'chemicals' part one

"Do you understand how I got this answer?" You asked Chris, and his gaze flicked up from your bare thighs to your eyes at the same time that you looked up at him from the page of his chemistry textbook. He was too busy imagining them as earmuffs, dreaming of diving between your legs to get a taste..

You guys sat side-by-side on his bed with the book between the two of you that contained diagrams and big words that Chris didn't really care to understand.

Chris wasn't doing well in his class, and his brother Nick had asked you if you could help him understand some of the concepts, considering you'd taken the same course your Freshman year of college a few years back and aced it.

He stared at you in silence. "Come on, Chris. You've gotta understand ionic bonds if you're gonna pass this class. Focus," you smiled at him, playfully slugging him in the arm while he wondered how that black, leather miniskirt you had on was conducive to him focusing on anything you had to say, much less anything having to do with Chemistry. Unless it was the sexual chemistry between the two of you.

"No, I get it. The elements share electrons and shit," Chris stared at your full lips while he nibbled on his own stuck in a fantasy about how they'd feel wrapped around the tip of his cock.

"But do you understand how many electrons they need to share to become a stable compound?" You intently looked at him, studying his expression while his perverted mind pretended that was some sort of lustful euphemism by some stretch of the imagination.

He had some electrons he wanted to share with you to help stabilize your compound.

"You know, I'm so sorry. I can't learn anything right now. My mind is somewhere else.." Chris shrugged at you. "Where's your mind?" You asked him, narrowing your gaze. In the gutter. "Just on some personal stuff," Chris replied, being as vague as possible to avoid telling you the vile thoughts about you that were clouding his focus.

"You know, you can talk to me about anything," You caressed his arm, and the feeling of your fingernails tracing against his flesh made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He dreamt about how your french tips would feel carressing his back while he plowed you.

Why not use this as an excuse to get a little sympathy out of you?

"You know, I'm just a little nervous about this being my first year of college and being so.. inexperienced," he smirked. This surprised you to hear, considering the sex appeal Chris gave off.

"Weren't you in a long-term relationship in high school?" You inquired. "Yeah, a year and a half. But she was a good little Christian girl. Wouldn't fuck me no matter how much I begged," Chris bit his lip, lowering his voice.

You shifted around uncomfortably on his bed. The thought of Chris begging had you entertaining thoughts you weren't proud of.

"Anyway, we ended things right before summer started," Chris shot you a fake disappointed look. He wasn't lying about what had happened, but he'd had time to process it and wasn't actually affected by it anymore. However, you didn't need to know that.

"Awh, Chris," you said sympathetically, cradling his face and caressing his cheek with your thumb. His cock twitched in his pants at how caring your voice sounded while you consoled him. He imagined how the pad of your thumb would feel grazing his other head.

"Yeah, it's been really hard. And lonely," he told you, glancing down at his lap, secretly referring to his cock. His voice was drenched in lust. Chris might have been a virgin, but he certainly knew what he was doing.

"Let me know if you ever need help with it. I mean, if you ever need someone to talk to," your eyes widened as you tripped over your words, picking up on Chris' signals and pulling your hand back from his face.

You could have sworn he was flirting with you and making you all flustered on purpose, but you couldn't tell if he was the one being a pervert or if you were. A slight smirk came across his face as he relished in your slip up.

"Anyway, we don't have to study this tonight. You clearly have a lot going on right now. When I get back to my dorm, I'll just send you my notes from a few years ago if I still have them," you smiled at him, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it. I'm sorry if you feel like I'm wasting your time," Chris apologetically looked up at you. He was lying. He loved wasting your time.

You paused, giving him a sympathetic look. "Chris, of course not. I'll see you again tomorrow for another study session," You rubbed his arm and smiled at him. "Text me if you need anything at all," you offered as you got up to walk out.

Chris was sad to see you go, but he loved to watch you leave. He was entranced by your ass, the shape of it in your leather skirt, and the way it slightly jiggled as your hips swayed while you strutted out of his room. Chris couldn't help the effect you had on him.

The second you closed the door to his dorm, he pulled off his shirt and took out his cock. He started fondling it while his mind was flooded by thoughts of you, keeping his strokes long, slow, and steady. Chris loved to tease himself. He almost adored it more than the act of actually getting off.

And after his relationship with his ex ended, Chris discovered the attention and reactions he'd get from women for still being so pure. He could have his way with almost any woman he wanted, but he was also holding out for the right one.

However, not in the same way as his ex. He was holding out because he liked dangling his virginity in front of women, seeing what kind of responses he could get out of them. Especially women who were a little older and a little more experienced. They'd often answer sympathetically and in an almost maternal manner, and nothing got him going more than that.

Some would get uncomfortable, some would flirt back, and some would outright throw themselves at him. He loved that he knew how to elicit their pity and also their desperation. Some of the more shy women would fumble over their words and blush while he taunted them with his innocence.

It was somewhat of a front, but he really hadn't had sex. He hadn't even gotten a blowjob or handjob before. The most he'd ever done was one night on his ex's couch when they'd gotten carried away in a heavy make out session, and she'd let Chris reach under her top and graze her nipples with his fingers. He could still remember how they hardened under his touch and the way she had mewled against his lip when he did this.

But he liked being a tease, and it forced him to empathize with his ex. He knew he probably could have had his way with you in his dorm room that night if he wanted, but he adored the slowburn. He liked the chase, and whether he was doing the chasing or being chased didn't really matter much to him.

He took his nails and ever so gently ran them up his length, biting his lip due to how amazing it felt. He took the pad of his thumb, trying to match the same tempo and pressure you'd used when you rubbed his cheek, and he started running his thumbprint over his tip, smudging the clear fluid that leaked out while he shut his eyes, shuddered, and smiled to himself.

He continued caressing the swollen mushroom-shaped head while he started to gently stroke his shaft, but he kept the pace unhurried and his touch soft, eliciting a wonderful feeling and stimulating all of his favorite nerve endings while he moaned your name.

He wondered what kinds of noises you'd make and how your face would look while you were being pleasured. He pictured you in all kinds of different positions while he pumped his hand back and forth a bit faster. His chest rose and fell at a quicker pace as his breathing pattern sped up.

He felt a familiar sensation in his stomach as he neared sweet release, but he reduced the speed of his strokes to draw it out a bit longer. His cock was already so sensitive, and the way he edged himself increased the sensitivity even more.

Chris did this for the next half hour, bringing himself as close as he could get to orgasm and then slowing down or stopping to savor the sensation a little longer. His mind swirled with images of you while he brought himself to the edge a final time.

He couldn't take it anymore. His cock was so responsive to his touch.. It begged for relief.

While delicately, expertly, and relentlessly teasing his tip, his dick started to pulse, and a rope of his hot, sticky fluid erupted with incredible pressure behind it, and painted his stomach, his chest, and a bead of it landed on his cheek. "Fuuuckkk," he let out in a shaky moan while he finished, draining every last droplet from his member.

His orgasm lasted several glorious seconds, the sensation rhythmically washing over him and leaving a buzzing feeling all over his body and a ringing in his ears once it ended. He slowly came down from it like a feather floating to the ground. He laid there with his eyes closed, wiped the drop of cum from his cheekbone, and smirked while his breath found its way back to him.

Later that night, you were in your own dorm room, reflecting on the study session you'd had with Chris. You couldn't put your finger on what it was about Chris that made you so wet for him, but you'd been thinking about it since you'd left his room.

Maybe it was his innocence. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn't innocent at all. Maybe he knew what he was doing. Maybe he'd found a way to get inside your head, and it was driving you crazy.

You couldn't stop replaying the way he was looking at you earlier with his tempting blue eyes and the way he spoke to you, his inflection coated in a layer of seduction.

Was that how he meant for it to come across? Or were you perverting the situation? When he told you he was a virgin, was he hoping you'd offer to show him how good it feels to fuck? Did he know you wanted to?

Before you could continue to spiral and overthink the interaction, you remembered - the notes! You pulled out an old crate in your closet that had all your assignments in it from every college course you'd taken to date. You knew it'd come in handy one day.

You found your notebook from Chemistry 101 and flipped to the section on ionic bonds and stabilizing chemical compounds, and you took pictures of the pages on your phone. You found Chris' contact and started sending off the pictures when a diabolical idea crossed your mind..

While flipping through your camera roll and selecting pictures to add to the message, your thumb hovered over the last nude you'd taken. It was a subtle but risky way to find out where Chris' head was at, to see if he wanted you as bad as you wanted him. You quickly selected the risqué photo of you and sent it off.

When Chris checked his texts, his jaw dropped when he came across the last one. It was you, sprawled out on your bed, laying on your back. Topless. It was actually an extremely tasteful photo, the kind you'd see in a dirty magazine or a boudoir shoot. He admired the curves of your body, your beautiful breasts, and your seductive expression as you looked into the camera.

Another text from you came in almost immediately. "OMG!! Please ignore that last picture! I didn't mean to send that.."

But Chris knew better. He was familiar with this game. He had triggered your pity, and now your desperation for him. He bit his lip, knowing he'd worked his magic on you, and you were now caught up in his spell. He decided to throw you a bone and flirt back, knowing that's what you secretly wanted.

"I could study that for hours.." he texted back, but followed it up with, "the notes I mean. ;)"

You blushed when you read his response. "Please delete that. I'm so embarrassed!" You replied, trying not to be too obvious about the chokehold Chris had on you.

"Of course. I'd never keep a photo of you like that without your permission.." Chris typed out as he devilishly grinned and saved it to his camera roll. He couldn't let such a beautiful photo go to waste. It was against his moral code.

He slipped his hand into his waistband and took his time rubbing another one out while he savored the picture of you, hoping to burn it into his memory so he could access it whenever he wanted.

The next day, after you attended all your classes, you wandered over to Chris' room again. You hesitated for a moment before knocking on his door. It swung open and the gorgeous boy you couldn't stop thinking about stood in the entrance, and when he saw you, his pupils dilated and he very subtly glanced you up and down, his gaze lingering on your chest for a moment, remembering the photo of you.

Chris noted how snugly your plain white top fit you and how short your denim skirt was, the hem barely hitting your mid thigh. "Hi," he shot you an innocent smile. "Hey, Chris," you responded, nervously biting your lip. You wanted to address the elephant in the room - the nude you'd 'accidentally' sent Chris the night before, but you weren't going to be the one to mention it first.

"Almost didn't recognize you with your clothes on," Chris teased you. That didn't take long.

"I'm so sorry, Chris. I didn't mean for you to see me like that," you blushed, avoiding eye contact with him. "Sure you didn't," Chris whispered, maliciously smiling at you and giving you a look like he wasn't buying it.

"Anyway, let's get into the elements again. I think we need to go over some basics before we start getting into covalent bonds," you said, changing the subject and pushing past Chris to get into his room. He checked out your ass as you walked past him.

"Who do you have for Chemistry again?" You asked out of curiosity. "Mr. Reid," Chris stated. "Oh, I had him," you responded, plopping down onto his bed. "Yeah, did you like him?" He wondered, retrieving his textbook from his desk.

"He was a good enough teacher. But he would always invite me over for dinner and a bottle of wine when I was only 19. He was kind of a pervert," you told him. "A pervert? Damn, don't you hate those," Chris devilishly grinned, basking in the irony. "So, that's how you aced his class," Chris insinuated. "Oh my god, Chris! No. I never went over there!" You laughed.

The two of you sat side-by-side on his bed, and you flipped to the periodic table diagram, and you and Chris started going over the way they were organized on the page. "Show me which ones are the alkaline metals," you told him, glancing up at his plump lips. He gazed up at you and then back at the page, pointing to a group of elements. "Good! That's right," you praised him.

"Thanks, mommy. I mean, teacher. I mean.." Chris nervously giggled, looking back up at you. It wasn't actually a slip-up. He just wanted to see how you reacted to being called mommy.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you raised your eyebrows, and your lips fell open slightly. The way Chris referred to you made your pussy throb. You tried to hide how much you liked it, but Chris could see through you. "You're such a good teacher. I wish you could teach me everything," Chris whispered, his eyes dancing across your expression while he licked his lips.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath as you dropped your pencil, completely caught off guard by how Chris was speaking to you. You were about to bend down to pick it up when Chris stopped you.

"I got it," he smiled as he fell to his knees in front of you. He was at eye level with your crotch, and he couldn't help but gaze up at your red underwear that peeked out from under your tiny jean skirt.

His eyes lingered for a suspicious amount of time before he retrieved your pencil. "Here," his lustful blue eyes met yours while he handed you your pencil, still kneeling on the floor in front of you.

Seeing Chris in such a submissive position had your imagination running wild. You fantasized about grabbing ahold of his luscious hair, tugging on it until he was whimpering, and stuffing his head between your legs. "Good boy. Make mommy cum," you imagined yourself saying to him while he hungrily lapped you up.

He slowly stood up and sat next to you again while you brushed off your disgusting desires. Chris could tell how hot and bothered he had you, and he wanted to see how much further he could take it.

"You know, something I find fascinating about chemicals is the way they react to one another. It's like they can't help it. Some of them reject one another. Some of them explode when they get near each other. Some get along really well. Some can't stay away from each other. Like people," Chris stated, lowering his voice and moving closer and closer to you while he maintained eye contact.

You thought for just a moment that you might kiss.. But Chris wasn't done teasing you. His eyes wandered your face, landing on your lips again, but he pulled his gaze away quickly and brought his stare back to the textbook.

The two of you were playing a game, trying to see who would cave first. You both wanted each other badly, but you were both stubborn and loved the anticipation and fervor that existed between two people right before they kissed or fucked for the first time.

It was like a limbo, a liminal space, a transit between point A and point B. You both liked it, suspended in time in a place that only the two of you could experience. It was where the imagination would run the wildest, shuffling through the possibilities of what could come next.

"I never thought about it like that," you swallowed hard. "What elements would we be? And like what chemical compound would we make?" Chris smirked at you. "I-I don't know," you stammered, not understanding where he was going with it. "Well, what elements can't stop thinking about how badly they really wanna fuck each other?" He softly asked, staring into your eyes.

It wasn't even a clever pick-up line, but the way his voice came through so sensually had your skin crawling with lust. Chris didn't need a clever way to flirt with you. He could have said, "Did you fall from heaven because suck my cock," and it would've worked on you. But you couldn't let him know. You wanted him to directly ask for it, to crave it, to need it, to get down on his knees and beg for it.

"Chris.." you started to say, pulling your eyes away from his. "I'm just saying out loud what we're both thinking," he smiled at you. "Let's get back to the textbook," you said, turning down his advance.

"You telling me you haven't thought about it? You telling me that picture you sent last night was an accident?" He teased you. "It was," you declared, clearing your throat.

"Sure it was. I might believe that if this were the first time this kind of thing happened to me," he rasped, getting closer to you again. "What do you mean?" You looked at him inquisitively.

"I know how women like you are. I tell you I'm a virgin, and you go absolutely feral. My innocence turns you on, doesn't it? You wanna be the one to show me about sex, hmm? You wanna be the first one to make me cum?" He cooed, narrowing his stare and practically reading your mind. You looked at him wide-eyed and speechless. You weren't sure whether to deny his claims or to fall to your knees and beg him to let you suck him off.

"No one's made you cum before? Ever?" You inquired as if that were the only thing you heard out of everything he'd just said. "Nope. No one's ever touched it or put it in their mouth.." His voice trailed off, and he bit his lip, giving you a sweet, innocent look. It was getting impossibly hard to maintain your composure.

"You mind if we take a break from studying? I can't learn anything with my dick this hard," he smirked, starting to unbutton his jeans. "What are you doing, Chris?" You asked, your eyes dropping to his cock as he took it out. "I just need to take care of it really quick. You don't have to stay if you don't want to watch," he peered up at you innocently as he started slowly teasing himself, but you stayed put.

You admired the way it beautifully stood straight up, the one rather intimidating-looking vein that traveled from the base of his shaft all the way to his tip, and the way the head was shiny with a layer of precum. It looked so pretty.

You watched Chris' ritual, the way he softly trailed his fingertips up his length. He began to stimulate the most sensitive spot, running his thumb over the pink, dome-shaped end. He let out a soft whimper and shivered in pleasure while he maintained eye contact with you.

You couldn't take look away. Your clit practically had its own heartbeat at this point. He knew how badly you wanted to put it in your mouth. It was written all over your face.

"Fuck, you're tough to crack," he whispered while he stroked his gorgeous cock. He couldn't take it anymore. He needed to know what it felt like. If you weren't going to make a move, he was.

"Please, mommy. Please put your mouth on it," he softly begged, his eyes and his voice drenched in desire.

Finally. You had him right where you wanted him.

"Good boy. All you had to do was ask nicely," you responded, pushing him back on the bed and crawling between his legs. He looked down at you wide-eyed, full of excitement and anticipation. He released his grip on his member, and you replaced it with your own. You felt his dick twitch against your palm.

"Tell me what you want, baby," you responded, taking your thumb and gently caressing the tip like you'd watched him do earlier. You could tell how much he loved it by the way he gasped and smiled at you while you did this.

"Please suck on it, mommy," he pleaded with you. You hovered just above his cock, nearly drooling at the idea of sucking on it, and you stuck out your tongue, just barely licking the slit where all his precum had pooled up. His eyes widened and he moaned, throwing his head back. So responsive.

The next time you went to kiss it, you wrapped your lips around his sensitive nerves and started gently suckling. "Wow," he whispered. It felt better than he could have ever imagined. His hands found their way to your head, and he started combing through your hair with his fingers while you stimulated him in the most incredible way.

You wrapped your lips around him again, taking the tip all the way into your mouth, and then you slid it down even further. While you bobbed up and down on his length, your tongue grazed that big, juicy vein on the backside of his cock, and he started whimpering even more as you let the tip of his cock tickle the back of your throat.

"Mommy, it feels so much better than when I touch myself," he smirked, biting his lip and furrowing his brow. He took in the sight of you, seductively looking up at him while your full, pink lips swallowed him. You slid back up and started paying attention to the head again while you stroked him. "Good boy," you winked at him. He moaned and shuddered back in response.

You absolutely adored the way Chris' nervous system reacted to every little touch, every caress, and every lick. You could get off just to the way he sounded, looked, and writhed beneath the feeling of your mouth.

He looked at you with a softer expression, one that told you he was nearing the tipping point. You decided to kick it up a notch, pumping back and forth faster while your mouth moved messily, drooling all over Chris' cock, a stark difference from the slow, controlled demeanor Chris had when playing with himself. But he fucking loved it. He was discovering just how much he loved receiving sloppy head.

"I'm getting close," he said urgently, half-expecting you to remove your mouth from his special place, but you only did long enough to mutter, "Good boy. Finish on my tongue." His eyes widened at the realization that you wanted to swallow his seed.

The feeling of your wet, velvet-like tongue dancing and swirling all over his tip had him in shambles. His body began to tremble, and he gripped the sheets beneath him until his knuckles started losing color, his hips bucking up, asking for permission to burrow deeper into your mouth.

"Mommy, you're gonna make me cum," he whined as his cock started twitching in your mouth. The knot in the pit of his stomach snapped while his toe-curling, earth-shattering, mind-blowing orgasm swallowed him whole before spitting him back out.

He could feel every sensation, from the way spurts of his thick, sticky load shot onto your tongue while you swallowed to the way the speed of his blood increased while it rushed through his veins.

Once his soul returned back to body, he was staring at you in a shocked and fully satisfied kind of way, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. "That was the best orgasm I've ever had, and I usually edge myself for like, a long time," he whispered, giggling.

"You did so good for me," you praised him, wiping your saliva mixed with his cum from the corner of your lip and imagining how hot Chris looked edging himself all alone in his bed.

"I love blow jobs," he smirked.

part two posted here 💖

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[saturngas]

megumi warming up to you

[🪐] a few years after megumi and tsumiki got "adopted" by you and gojo, megumi finally feels comfortable enough to tell you about his little school crush. just please don't tell gojo

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

genre: sfw

warnings: established relationship; reader and gojo are both in their early 20s; megumi is around 8 years old; use of gender neutral pet names; megumi being gojo's number one despiser

word count: 1.4k

..

megumi was awfully quiet on the ride home. he and tsumiki were walking a few steps in front of you and satoru. not that he wasn't a quiet and reserved boy by nature, always seeming to be deep in thought and observant of his surroundings. but this time was just different. his little dark eyes were placed on the ground, guiding his careful step, while his lips displayed a subtle pout.

he seemed to be thinking hard.

you looked up at satoru who was chewing on the straw of his already finished strawberry milk box.

"satoru," his eyes fell immediately on you at the sound of his name. his left hand was intertwined with your smaller one, the warm air lingering around both of you making your hands to be a bit sweaty. "do you think megumi is okay? he looks... distracted."

"oh! yeah, of course! why wouldn't he be?" he muttered out a bit nervous, straw between his lips. were you aware of the little disagreement megumi had with a classmate a couple of days ago? he promised megumi you wouldn't know. "maybe he has a bit more homework today, baby. he probably is already thinking about the answers."

"mmm, yeah, true," you hummed. "please help him with that, yeah?" satoru felt his cheeks burn intently the moment you shot him your best puppy eyes. his round glasses slid down the bridge of his nose, revealing his big azure eyes. he left a boyish chuckle while rubbing the back of his neck.

"hah, of course, sweet pie, yeah, hah."

math was always the easiest subject for satoru. well, actually any subject was a piece of cake for him. but he liked math and physics a lot more. he would solve equations within seconds without thinking too much of them. you may have been a little jealous of him during high school when you two would compete to find out who was faster; you would lose for mere seconds.

megumi did have more homework that day, elementary-level math problems. but that wasn't the source of his concern. but he couldn't just tell satoru.

the black haired little guy looked at his benefactor. his stupid face with a stupid grin megumi just couldn't bring himself to get used to. satoru was chewing on a candy flavor gum. megumi could almost taste the intense flavor from his breath. how could he have something so overly sweet for so long in his mouth?

"what's wrong, little fella? you want to go over why two plus two equals four?" megumi sighed at his words. his worksheet displayed multiplication and division problems. of course he already knew how addition worked.

his tired eyes followed your silhouette as you helped tsumiki with a dna three-dimensional model. you were a lot more thoughtful, more considerate of others' feelings. you had the communication skills satoru lacked. for a second, megumi realized why satoru was with you, something he was questioning the moment he met you.

megumi was going to tell you.

it was the perfect moment. the idiot of your boyfriend was out in a mission and tsumiki had asked for permission to stay at a friend's. megumi was walking next to you. again, he looked lost in thought.

"megumi—," you cut yourself before spitting out the honorific -chan. the little guy hated being called megumi-chan. satoru did it all the time and megumi now can't handle it even if it comes from you. "are you alright? is there something you would like to tell me?" you said almost in a whisper.

the eight-year-old boy looked at you with indifferent eyes. he now was in the deepest of deep thoughts.

you sensed his little body tensing at your question. "hey, hey—, it's okay megumi. I won't tell satoru if you don’t want to, okay?"

his sight softened. bingo. that always worked with the little kid.

"I think... I've caught an interest in someone." megumi muttered below his breath, little fingers fidgeting. his glance on the ground as a deep shade of pink adorned his pale face.

oh, so this is what's about... you were fighting off a big smile that threatened to appear. you needed to remain serene if you wanted megumi to keep opening up to you.

"oh... who?" you said as softly as possible.

"it is a girl. she is nice. but she is from fifth grade." megumi sounded a bit sad. your heart crunched a bit. he was just a third grader. you weren't surprised he liked a girl who was older that him though. the little boy had complained before about his female classmates being a bit too... immature.

"where did you meet her, megumi?"

"from the art club tsumiki is in. I went with her once because I didn't have anything to do, and I saw her. she is very smart and is really good at acrylic painting."

so now everything makes sense. a few days ago, megumi had asked satoru the price for some acrylic paints that weren't made in Japan. you assumed the little girl had mentioned the brand and megumi was curious.

"what do you want to do about it, megumi?" the black haired boy fell silent again, so you continued, "do you want me to help you with getting close to her, or—"

"no, I want to do it on my own," he cut your words quickly with a serious tone. "just maybe... could you help me with some money? I promise to pay it back."

megumi was so cute you were sure your heart would turn into liquid from the way it was melting.

"ha ha! it's totally fine, megumi!" you let out a giggle. "of course I'll help you and you don't have to pay it back, 'kay?" you suggested with a big smile. "and I promise I won't say a word to satoru," you winked at him.

megumi felt relieved.

two weeks had passed since your little arrangement with megumi. he was actually very secretive with it. tsumiki was probably aware of his little crush on her classmate, but wasn't of the deal megumi made with you.

megumi was serious when he said he wanted to do it on his own. he only asked you for 7,000 yen. and that was the last thing you knew about all this.

you were getting ready for bed when satoru interrupted your skincare routine placing a wet kiss on your cheek. you groaned as he prepared to brush his teeth.

"baby, did you know megumi has a girlfriend?" satoru mumbled as toothpaste ran down his perfect chin.

"what?" you acted genuinely surprised. megumi already made her his girlfriend?

satoru grabbed a towel to dry his face and wipe off the counter. he always made a mess when brushing his teeth. "yeah baby. when I picked them up, he said goodbye to a girl, and I mean—! I have never seen him bid farewell to absolutely no one, not even me!" he said a bit exasperated, looking up at you with his baby blue eyes. "im pretty sure that's his girl or something."

poor megumi, his deepest secret was known by his greatest enemy. you sighed softly as you finished applying your lotion and walked close to satoru.

"that could be a possibility, 'toru," your hand roamed through his hard back as the other one went up to fidget with his soft white locks. satoru stared down at you lovingly, his arms encircling you with a tight grip. "but please, do not tease him." you voice was so hard and stern that it made the young sorcerer swallow all the spit in his mouth down his throat.

"yeah baby, no problem—."

"no, satoru, im being serious right now. leave him alone." you were dead serious, satoru knew. his lips moved unconsciously to yours to erase the subtle pout that was starting to form on your face.

"i promise, shnookums," he left a chaste kiss on your nose. "well then, I'll have to tease you tenfold babyyy~!" satoru hugged you with all his mighty force, knocking the air out of you. his large arms made you feel so safe and warm. satoru gave the best bear hugs.

"somebody gotta receive all my love~" you giggled at his words. satoru loves everyone, however many people may find his love language a bit… obnoxious and annoying. his lips now teasing your earlobe while his large hands rubbed your back. "or else my little brains might explode and— wait, baby," his warm lips left your skin, as he opened wide his blue eyes.

"what, what."

"so that is why you made a withdrawal of like seven thousand yen? to give it to megumi?"

"satoru are you checking my bank account?"

"baby I can't help it~," he whined out loud, his face snuggling down your neck while planting wet kisses around your neck. you couldn't help but feel funny when his hands danced under your shirt, caressing your hot skin. "you should end your independency and start using my credit cards."

your boyfriend was so shameless.