#im so stressed about this i don't want to redo these

[hylianengineer]

I have to go to work today and make dirt smoothies. Then I have to pour them into giant graduated cylinders, cover them and TURN THEM UPSIDE DOWN repeatedly. If I do not spill one it will be a miracle.

[whoreforsexymen]

heeeey!!!! Im back with more jayce request. I would like to see jayce x reader with the prompts “Don’t act like you didn’t want to end up under me like this.” and “Shut up and take my fuckin’ cock.”. This is giving me like rivals or enemies to lovers where jayce and the reader have some heavy sexual tension under the surface. One day jayce just loses all patience and snaps and takes all of his stress and anger out on the reader

Sink Like A Stone | Jayce Talis

Prompt Fic (See, Prompt List)

Prompt(s) Used:

#2 "Don't act like you didn't want to end up under me like this."

#21 "Shut up and take my fuckin' cock."

Pairings: Jayce x Fem!Reader

Pronouns: Fem!Pronouns + Female Anatomy Descriptions

Rating: NSFW, 18+, MDNI !! You WILL be blocked!

Word Count: 8.3k (IDK what happened)

Tags: Songfic, INTENSE Smut, INTENSE Angst, VERY SLIGHT dub-con (it's not really dubcon--Jayce just get's really consumed by anger at one point--the unspoken consent is there) Hate-fucking, Lovers to Enemies then back to Lovers (??), Choking, Semi-Public Sex, Biting, Slapping, etc.

Summary: You and Jayce are ex-lovers. You hate him for plagiarizing and stealing your life's work, and he hates you for leaving him over what he considered a selfless act. After months of having not seen each other, you two get into a heated screaming match turned hate-fucking. However, Jayce may have let his emotions get the better of him.

Notes: OKOKOK, so. Be warned. This one is a DOOZY. I was in no way planning on adding 90% of the elements I added to this story. They just kind of happened.

(Special note to @milkbean69 !! I really took this and ran with it. If you want me to redo it in a much tamer way. Please let me know and I will.)

((((Side note, this is going to have to be a two-parter! Stay tuned for part two, which will be much softer.))))

‘We lie,

Cold.’

Jayce.

A name so simple, so unassuming, it would slip unnoticeably through anyone else’s mind. But to you, it holds weight. Each syllable, each breath that forms it, feels impossibly significant—a name that stirs something deep within you, a quiet echo of poignancy known only by you.

Your feelings towards the Jayce Talis you once knew were complex and hard to define. On one hand, you despised the way he insinuated himself into the council of Piltover’s most prestigious Academy, taking a seat you believed was rightfully yours—one you had fought tooth and nail to earn.

‘Dam up the river,

We can go, slow.’

His so-called “vision” for Piltover’s future, with that abominable Hextech nonsense, had directly sabotaged the plans you’d spent years perfecting. You may not have had the luxury of Arcane magic to ease trade, but you had crafted a much more practical blueprint to connect Piltover to the rest of Runeterra’s trading world.

Yet the moment Jayce and his fragile “partner” wielded their so-called “magic,” your ideas were dismissed, overlooked, and ultimately erased.

‘We don’t wanna,

Know.’

On the other hand, you had always considered him a friend—seemingly more at times—until the day he practically ripped the rug of your life’s work out from under your feet.

Not to mention he had the gall to call it his idea. “His” idea? Please. It was your idea, just re-wrapped in a fancy mystical package. You had worked on it together, after all. Jayce had spent countless hours rambling about the mysticism and potential of those tiny blue stones of his, insisting they could revolutionize everything you had ever strived to achieve. Never once did you imagine that, once he unlocked their power, he’d turn against you, abandoning the partnership and the vision you had once shared.

‘Dull down our senses,

Become numb.'

What kind of name was Hextech, anyhow? It felt devoid of sophistication, lacking both subtlety and the gravitas one might expect from something so profound. It didn’t quite capture the essence of what it was—an intricate fusion of magic and technology—nor did it convey any sense of elegance or purpose.

Although, you couldn’t deny that you often reminisced in memories of your life before his grandiose “discovery”—robbery, really— of Hextech—your idea.

‘We take our time

Ignoring all the signs

Living in fear of our lies

Never bad enough to break it

Or, good enough to feel right.’

You had spent the better portion of your youth with him, much of it tangled amidst bedsheets, consumed by a shared, desperate need to relinquish each other’s physical tensions.

‘Been in overtime,

Half our lives.’

Sometimes, you could still feel the softness of his touch, the warmth of his lips grazing your skin—and other, much more tender, places. You could easily recall how your body had ached for him at times, but even more painfully, how your heart had longed for him, too. A truth you never dared to utter aloud.

The absence of anything beyond those intense moments of passion never really crossed your mind during the thick of it all. You never questioned it, and in hindsight, you’re almost thankful you didn’t—especially after what he had done after all that time. All of the time spent together, collectively fantasizing over your dreams and aspirations of a better life for all citizens, and a better future for the next generations to come.

‘Under indecision,

We become so dependent.

On the rush,

Of the moment.’

The bitterness that had consumed your heart was unbearable now, and the thought of ever confessing your feelings to him seemed almost unfathomable—impossible to imagine how much worse it could have been for you now if you had.

By this point, you were acutely aware of how deeply you loathed him. Your physical desires had long since faded, especially since you hadn’t seen or spoken to him in months. You had even gone so far as to move to a place he couldn’t find, cutting off every trace of connection, and the bond you once had.

Your skin ached with longing for him, your body and soul craving his touch once more. Yet, no matter how intense the desire, you would never allow him a single opportunity to return to your life.

It was a painful contradiction to bear—hating him, yet craving him all the same. You felt trapped, consumed by hopelessness, unable to escape the turmoil inside.

‘Sanitize

My head.’

You hadn’t moved far—just to the other side of Piltover, away from The Academy, the council, and—most importantly—-Jayce, himself.. The distance was a great relief. In your day-to-day life, there was no real risk of encountering him, and that small sense of safety gave you some peace of mind.

However…

You often found yourself testing that peace, pushing the boundaries of the distance you’d created. You weren’t entirely sure why—maybe it was the deep, unresolved desperation for him, or perhaps a semi-conscious, self-destructive choice of yours.

‘Death murders

Everything in sight.’

Each night, you found yourself walking almost the entire length of Piltover, from your new home to the Hexgate monolith on the far end—the very place you had fought so hard to escape.

Seeing the towering structure always left you with a deep, melancholic thrum in your chest. It represented everything you had once hoped for, everything you had worked and slaved over, now reduced to rubble by its mere presence.

‘Beneath the rip in the wind

The pillar push you aside.’

That tower stood as an unyielding symbol of betrayal, a constant reminder of the anger and anguish that had shattered your world at the mercy of Jayce’s hands.

‘If I make way

I can taste your sigh.

Just like the cannibal amp

It knows sound is size.’

On your nightly walks, you would make your way down the stone pier that lead to the water, your footsteps echoing in the quiet. When you reached the end, you’d grasp the railing that kept people from tumbling over the cliff’s edge, gluing yourself to the present moment.

‘Push me to

The brink, I said

Well that bitch

Is a creep

It tried to know what I think.’

There, you’d gaze up at the tower, lost in thought—re-evaluating and wondering how differently your life might have unfolded if Jayce hadn’t betrayed you—-if he hadn’t stolen your idea and torn everything apart.

‘To breathe out passion

Or suck in fate

You think the world was made

To wield your weight

And bleed out?’

Tonight was no different. Here you were, hood drawn—- hands shoved deep in your pockets—-your bodice pulled tight as you hunched in quiet disdain, eyes locked on nothing but the ground that passed underfoot.

Your expression was sour as you traced every wrong turn your life had taken to bring you here. Your chest felt heavy, as if the weight of it all pressed itself down upon you out of sheer spite.

Your mind buzzed, a relentless whirl of painful memories spinning in a dizzying menagerie inside your skull.

When your eyes met the stark, hauntingly familiar edifice, a sharper pang stabbed deep beneath your chest, more intense than you were accustomed to by now.

You weren’t sure why, of all nights, tonight seemed to bring out the most intense surge of feelings—especially since you found yourself unusually consumed by your thoughts this time around.

Especially since, long before Jayce had perfected the Hexgate, the two of you would often come here to find solace in the sound of the waves and the crisp air of the sea. You’d toss stones into the water, or compete to see who could throw them the furthest. The bittersweet memory of how often Jayce would taunt you for your lack of coordination only deepened the pain and anger digging at you.

You couldn’t control the mindless, almost reflexive way your body reacted to such intense feelings, in combination with the familiarity of the location. Without a second thought, your hand reached for a nearby rock, and before you even registered what you were doing, you hurled it as hard as you could toward the tower.

The tower, distant and perched far out in the water, seemed almost unreachable, and your rock barely made it halfway before splashing down into the water with a sound that felt like it mocked you in the same way Jayce had. You almost felt compelled to throw another rock, driven by some irrational need to make the first one atone for mocking you—despite the fact that it, like all other rocks, had no sentience to answer for its actions.

You gave in to the irrational impulse, bending down to pick up another rock, your mind still fixated on the need to make the previous one pay. But as your fingers closed around the stone, something in the corner of your vision made you pause. A pair of shoes—familiar, yet unknown—caught your eye. Shoes that were attached to feet. Feet that led up to legs. Legs that belonged to the hips and torso of an individual you couldn’t see beyond your hood.

The rock slipped from your hand, forgotten, as your attention shifted entirely to the figure standing behind you. You hadn’t heard a single indicating noise that you had been followed, or approached from behind.

The presence was sudden, unnerving, and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to be afraid. If you were anywhere else, anywhere but Piltover, you’d be terrified. But here, in this ”city of wonders”, you couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow, you were still safe.

If anything, it was probably an enforcer, here to reprimand you for throwing rocks in the first place. You straightened up, brushing the thought aside, and turned to face whoever had been silently looming behind you.

As you spun around, you realized—this wasn’t an enforcer.

No, far from it.

The person standing there was more terrifying than any enforcer could ever be, and certainly more annoying, infuriating, and enraging to look upon, for lack of better words to describe the instant rush of wrath that overwhelmed you.

‘Am I the reason

That you can’t look past

Your future self?’

“Your aim is still pretty shit, sunshine.” He says plainly, the nickname he had always pegged you with burning in your ears.

Your blood ran cold as your eyes locked onto the disgustingly smug expression on his face. Every hair on your body stood on end, a shiver crawling up your spine as you stood face to face with the man you now regarded with nothing but utter disdain.

You freeze, unable to muster a response, your mind clouded with a storm of rage and contemptment.

Jayce’s gaze lingers on you, almost—dare you think it—in a way that seemed concerned, longing, and worst of all—-caring.

What a hypocrite. How dare he look at you like he actually cares?

‘Got me believin’

You’ve been stuck

And glued in frequent doubt.’

“Don’t give me that look,” you snap, your fingers twitching, aching to throw a rock at his face just to make him eat his words. For a split second, you actually consider it—and you’re sure Jayce can feel exactly what’s running through your mind as he observes the way your eyes flicker between his face, and the stone you had left behind.

“What look?” he asks, concern surging through his expression again.

Did this guy have a death wish, or was he really just that oblivious? Either way, you could crack instantaneously.

“That look. The fake concern,” you snap, your eyes dropping, fists tightening, teeth grinding.

“Fake…?” He pauses, clearly lost in thought as he crosses his arms over his chest, the hint of offense hanging off his words.

You fight the urge to lash out, to make him feel something stronger than pain.

‘I know the feeling

‘Cause I can’t keep

My mind open now.’

“Yes, fake, Jayce. As in insincere. Artificial,” you spit, taking a sharp breath.

“Ersatz,” you add, the word a bitter aftertaste.

Your words cut through the air with a venomous cadence, each syllable sharp and biting, a distasteful attempt to tear through him.

Jayce looked completely dumbfounded, as if his mind had been wiped clean. The stark look of gears no longer grinding in his brain was almost comical. He was daft, no doubt. You felt a twinge of pride prod your ego upon this realization.

You couldn’t bear to stay here, not this close to him, not after everything. The thought that he was only here to twist the knife deeper into your wounds was almost more than you could handle. Your emotions, raw and overwhelming, had already drained you, and you were done. You didn’t want to give him another moment—no chance for him to make things worse, or worse still, to somehow try and redeem himself. As if he ever could.

Steeling yourself, you gather what little dignity you have left and turn away, keeping your face carefully composed. As you pass him, you deliberately knock your shoulder against his, ricocheting his shoulders in the process, a silent and singular act of defiance as you walk away.

As if to intentionally make matters worse, Jayce turns after you, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist. He makes contact, swiftly pulling you back towards him.

“___, wait—” He begins, but his words are cut short as your hand slams into his cheek. You hadn’t necessarily meant to hit him, but the motion was as instinctive as throwing the rocks—your hand connecting with the flesh of his cheek before you even had a chance to stop it—not that you necessarily would have wanted to.

The way you had wound up the slap was only amplified by the sudden pull of his hand grabbing you mid-stride, forcing you back toward him. The momentum aided the force with which you struck him.

The weight of what you’d just done hit you all at once—grief, anger, relief, all crashing together. A small part of you, the part that still cared for him, was flooded with guilt. But the darker parts of you—those that hated him, that had longed to hurt him—felt a twisted satisfaction. Besides, it was his own fault that he had grabbed you.

You’d wanted to feel his skin beneath your hands, after all, and in an oddly perfect way, this had been the way to satiate that desire.

Jayce instantly released his grip on your wrist, his hand moving to cup the spot where your slap had left its mark.

“Ah…” he groaned, wincing as he cupped the stinging flesh. His eyes snapped shut, the pain unmistakably written all over his face.

You couldn’t tear your gaze away as he stood there, his hand pressed against the raw, reddened skin of his cheek, the mark of your slap still vivid and angry. The sight of it made your chest tighten, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was you were feeling. What should you feel in a moment like this? That was the question you could neither answer or shake.

You had already acknowledged, in a quiet corner of your mind, that there was a strange satisfaction in lashing out, even if it was tangled with the thorny weight of your own hurt. There was a cruel sort of release in it, one that both thrilled and disturbed you in equal measure. Your stomach churned as you fought to suppress the abhorrent feeling of shame that crept up on you.

You could feel your instincts urging you to escape—to run, to put distance between yourself and this raw, uncomfortable moment. But you chose not to listen. The urge to flee warred with something else, something deeper, a curiosity that had begun to take root. You wanted to see how this would unfold, to witness how this tension would resolve, if it would resolve at all. The satisfaction you had felt from that sharp, ringing slap was undeniable. Maybe it had been a way to expel some of the pain that had been building inside you for so long. Maybe, just maybe, it was worth confronting whatever came next, just to relieve yourself of that heaviness, even if only for a moment.

‘Make up your mind,

We’re running out of time.’

Your heart sunk as you saw the essence of betrayal soon sweep across his face. Yet, simultaneously, that added to the anger you felt. He, of all people, felt betrayal? After the way he betrayed you? That look of his repulsed you.

He looked at you, disbelief written all over his face, his expression a mixture of shock and hurt. His hand lingered on his cheek, still tender from the sting of your slap, as though he couldn’t quite grasp the reality of the moment. The look he gave you was one of genuine confusion, as if he couldn’t fathom why you were so consumed by anger.

“___…” His voice cracked slightly, heavy with emotion, but still full of that familiar, passionate lilt, the kind that used to make your heart race. When he whispered your name—softly, almost reverently—it was as if the sound of it pained him.

‘Doubt is failure

By design.’

His eyes searched yours, full of questions that hung in the air, unanswered. Why had you struck him? Why this sudden violence? The pain in his gaze only seemed to stoke the fire inside you, making the anger flare even hotter, more reckless.

“Don’t look at me like that. Like you don’t know exactly what that was for,” you spat, each word sharp, each syllable dripping with a tang that tasted like metal on your tongue. But as the words left you, the anger morphed into something far more fragile, far more devastating. Your heart seemed to crack with the weight of it, the betrayal, the hopelessness. The tears welled up, blurring your vision as your chest tightened with sorrow.

“Why… why are you so blind to everything you’ve done?” you choked out.

“To everything we had… everything you destroyed… just so you could chase your fucking dreams?”

Your fists balled at your sides, the muscles in your arms trembling from the effort of keeping control, even though your voice shook with the strain of holding back the tidal wave of emotion threatening to break free.

‘I’m burning up

Can only take

So much.’

“What about my dreams, Jayce? What about our dreams?” you cried, your voice rising, your words feeling like they could burn everything in their path. Every inch of you ached—your body, your heart, your soul—all of it pulled taut like a string ready to snap. You didn’t know how much longer you could keep it in.

“What made sealing your own future—your destiny—more important than what we built together?” you demanded, the question sitting in the air between you like a dagger.

“Why was your ambition more sacred than our bond? More sacred than us?”

Your voice cracked on the last word, your breath coming in short, jagged gasps. The tears spilled over, leaving hot trails down your face, but you stood your ground, unwilling to back down. This—this pain, this heartbreak—was something you needed to admit, needed him to hear.

“How dare you steal my idea. How dare you take the credit, and disparage it with your stupid, fucking, magic.” You were shouting now, your voice ringing through the night air, raw and unfiltered, the weight of your anger shattering the silence that had settled over everything. The contrast between your fury and the stillness of the evening was jarring—your words felt like they were tearing through the quiet, reverberating off the walls of the world around you.

“Your idea?!” he exclaimed in response, his voice rising sharply, cutting through your tirade. He stepped forward, closing the distance between you in a few purposeful strides, his figure towering over you, his height and presence suddenly far more imposing than you remembered. His broad shoulders blocked the space between you, his stance firm, as if challenging you to face him head-on.

‘I know you

Can feel it

It’s catching up

It’s getting too heavy

For both of us.’

“Since when was it your idea?” His words were fast, biting with frustration, and he was unrelenting as he moved closer, his eyebrows knit together in upset.

“‘Cause the way I remember it—we both wanted change. We both wanted to make Piltover a better, more advanced city.” His voice was now an angry force, his face craning down to meet yours, his eyes sharp, trying to drill the point home. He wasn’t asking anymore—he was demanding you understand.

But what hit you most in that moment wasn’t just his words. It was the way his anger had suddenly shifted everything. For the first time in your life, you felt small compared to him. You had never seen him like this—not even annoyed, not in all the time you had spent together. Jayce had always been the steady one, the calm, the voice of reason. But now, his fury felt like a storm—intense, unpredictable, and completely foreign. The force of it left you unsettled, and taken aback, to say the least.

You didn’t know how to react to this. His anger was like a tidal wave, knocking the ground out from under you, and for the first time, you realized just how much power he had over you—how much he could command just by his sheer presence. The towering figure in front of you, his jaw clenched, eyes burning with emotion, made your chest tighten. You didn’t know what to do with this. His anger was new, and in some way, it was almost more frightening than anything you had ever faced.

‘We lie

Cold.’

You were baffled, not just by the words he was saying, but by the way he was saying them—like a person you didn’t recognize.

You parted your lips, ready to continue the tirade that had built up in your chest, but before you could get another word out, Jayce’s voice cut you off, raw and jagged. He didn’t give you a chance to speak, his frustration spilling over, each word more desperate than the last.

“You left me. Here. Alone.” His voice cracked, trembling under the weight of everything he, too, left unsaid, considering how you fled before he ever got a chance to explain himself. It wasn’t just anger in his tone anymore; it was pain. The kind that came from a place so deep you couldn’t ignore it, no matter how hard you tried.

“I did what I thought was best for us.” He stepped closer, his voice rising in volume, matching the intensity of your own.

“I proved what I was trying to prove. For us. For our collective aspirations.” The words came faster now, fueled by the overwhelming rush of emotion that was beginning to boil over in him.

“I worked my ass off to make sure that, with the help of my Hextech, your trade routes could flourish,” he spat, his anger now matching yours, raw and unrelenting. His face was inches from yours, his breath hot as he glared down at you.

“I won’t stand here and let you blame me, let you hate me, for acting out of what I thought was selflessness at the time. I’ve gone to bat for you, countless times, to make sure you got the credit you deserved.”

His own fists clenched at his sides, the strain of his words almost too much to bear.

“But you ran. You left, assuming my only goal was to use you, when in reality, all I ever tried to do was support you.”

His words slammed into you like a physical blow, and for a second, you were paralyzed by the force of them. But then the anger surged again, hot and insistent. Support you? The bitterness twisted in your gut, and before you even thought about it, the words exploded from your mouth.

“Support me?!” You shouted, the sound ringing through the night like a bell, sharp and accusing.

“That’s what you call abandoning me to take a seat in the highest of towers?” You could feel the heat of your own fury rising to meet his, and without thinking, you shoved both hands into his chest, pushing him back with all the force you could muster.

Jayce stumbled backward, caught off guard by the sheer force of your anger, and you weren’t done. You shoved him again, harder this time, your hands pressing against his chest until he hit the railing behind him with a loud clang. The sound echoed in the air, but you didn’t care.

“In the council, no less?! Leaving me here to fend for myself in your fucking shadow?!” Your voice was hoarse now, each scream louder and more desperate than the last. You pushed him once more, as if trying to push the weight of everything you felt, everything you couldn’t hold onto anymore, into him.

The tears you’d held back were streaming freely down your face, but there was no stopping them now. The hurt, the betrayal—it all came pouring out in that single moment. The fury and heartbreak swirled together, a force you couldn’t control, and all you could do was scream at him until your voice gave out, until he understood just how much you had suffered because of his choices.

‘Dam up the river,

We can go, slow.’

Jayce had finally reached his limit. The shouting, the anger, the constant back and forth—it was all too much. He could see now that no matter what he said, nothing would make you stop. The argument had spiraled into something beyond reason, and every word he spoke only seemed to fuel your fire. You weren’t listening anymore; you were just lashing out, consumed by rage.

Enough was enough.

‘Dull down our senses,

Become numb.’

When you shoved him again, anger blinding you, Jayce reacted quickly. His patience had worn thin, and he wasn’t about to let this go any further.

The next time your hands came at him, he caught your wrists with a swift, forceful motion, crossing them tightly over each other. Before you could react, he shoved your arms into your chest, locking you in place. Then, without warning, he spun you around, pulling you harshly against him so that your back was pressed to his chest. His grip tightened, his arms like iron bands, preventing you from thrashing away.

‘Mirin myself

All by myself.’

“Stop.” His voice was low, sharp, and commanding, vibrating against your ear as his chest caged you in. You could feel the heat of his body, the raw tension in every inch of him as he held you close, his strength completely overpowering your attempts to break free.

“___, for fucks sake! Stop!” He demands, one of his enormous hands moving to take hold of both of your wrists while the other clamped down around your jaw, bringing your face towards your shoulder, where his own chin rested in this position.

Jayce had no choice. He knew how stubborn you were, how deeply you clung to your anger when you were hurt, and how you’d never stop until you’d worn yourself out—if you ever did. But right now, he couldn’t wait for that to happen. He couldn’t let you run away from him anymore.

With one sharp, decisive movement, his lips crashed into yours. It was hard, hungry, demanding—a complete storm of sensation that left no room for resistance. Your eyes went wide in shock, your breath hitching as you tried to pull back, but he followed, his mouth pressing harder against yours, refusing to let you break free.

‘Feel the caress, so sweet

Done by my hand.’

You gasped, the sound caught between your lips, and before you could protest, his kiss deepened, his tongue slipping past your lips, twisting with yours in a way that both startled and confused you. You cried out into his mouth, the noise muffled, as his hold on you tightened, his body pressing closer to yours, grounding you in place.

Every part of you wanted to push him away, to shout, to keep fighting, but Jayce’s kiss was relentless—an anchor pulling you deeper into silence. He wasn’t pulling back, not until you stopped fighting, until you let go of that anger long enough to breathe.

And though you still burned with fury, something about the way he held you, the way his presence swallowed you whole, made it harder and harder to keep struggling.

No matter how much you had longed for his touch, how desperately you had yearned for him to kiss you like this again, you couldn’t bring yourself to accept it in a moment like this. Not when everything inside you was still burning with anger and hurt.

‘Polishing this frame of mind,

Jacked it up an ax to grind.’

You fought against him, your body stiff and tense, desperately trying to pull away from his overwhelming presence. Each movement was a silent refusal, a stubborn resistance to the way his kiss was pulling at your very core.

‘Duck n’ dodge,

Stay unaligned.'

But it was futile. You were already drained, your energy spent from the crying, the shouting, the endless cycle of rage that had led you here. As his lips pressed more insistently against yours, the fight in you began to falter. The need to escape, the impulse to run, slowly began to dissolve with every second his lips lingered on yours, and his tongue explored the depths of your mouth. What remained was the sharp sting of your rage, but even that felt like it was starting to ebb.

Gradually, your body softened, the tension in your muscles melting away. The fight left you, piece by piece, until you sighed against his mouth, the sound muffled but unmistakable. With a subtle shift, your head tilted just enough to give him more room, more access, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to stop fighting. The kiss deepened, and in that quiet surrender, Jayce released a long, relieved breath, sensing your body finally easing into his touch.

‘My recognition face

Some get withered

Some get fried.’

You kissed him back after great hesitation, your lips and tongue moving urgently against his, as if you were trying to make up for every lost moment in a single, heated breath. There was no holding back now. The memories, the longing, everything that had been buried deep inside you erupted all at once, and your mouth moved hungrily against his, each movement a desperate attempt to relive the intimacy you’d once shared.

‘I know we talked about

The shit we did

Each time.’

His grip on your wrists faltered, weakening as you started to turn toward him fully. The distance between you closed rapidly, and soon, your chest was pressed flush against his, your body responding to his presence with an intensity you couldn’t control. As your hands were freed, they instinctively traveled up to his face, your thumb brushing over the spot where you’d struck him only minutes before, feeling the remnants of your anger there, now mingling with something else.

‘Polishing this frame of mind

Jacked it up an ax to grind.’

You cupped his face, fingers digging into his jaw, pulling him even closer as if trying to erase the distance between you, to melt into him and make up for the time and pain that had come before. The urgency in your movements was raw and frantic, a wordless plea to feel everything at once—to collapse the anger, the longing, and the need that had built up inside you into this single, desperate connection.

‘Duck n’ dodge

Stay unaligned

My recognition face.’

His hands roamed over your body, searching for any way to pull you closer, his touch growing more insistent as he settled them on your hips, pulling you into him. The physical closeness only heightened the tension, the desire, but also something darker—something that still lingered between you—lust.

Though you no longer felt the need to escape, your rage simmered just below the surface, burning deep in your chest. It wasn’t gone, not by a long shot. It still gnawed at you, demanding to be felt, demanding some kind of reckoning. Part of you wanted to make him feel it, make him understand the depth of your pain. You wanted him to know what you had been through all this time.

‘Am I the reason

That you can’t

Look past your future self?’

Your tongue retracted for a moment, and you pressed your teeth against his bottom lip, the bite sharp enough to sting. It was a flash of anger, mixed with the heat of desire, and it caught Jayce off guard. You had shared passionate moments before, but nothing quite like this—nothing that carried this much intensity. He flinched at the sudden sharpness, but in that moment, something in him sparked, that familiar fire of tension growing even stronger.

If that’s what it would take to break the tension, then he’d oblige.

Jayce’s hand tangled into your hair, pulling you closer, his grip tightening. The sensation of your hair in his hand, the pressure, sent a breathless sound escaping from you—something between a gasp and a soft exhale. It was involuntary, the sound mixing with the heat building between you. Jayce had always longed to hear that from you, to feel that connection, and now that it was happening, he couldn’t stop.

For far too long, Jayce had denied himself any form of physical connection. Since you left, he’d been forced to bury his desire for you deep inside, locking it away with a painful awareness that nothing—no touch, no embrace—could compare to what he had shared with you. Each passing day, he became more acutely aware of the emptiness that lingered, knowing that any contact with anyone else would only serve as a stark reminder of the craving that burned for you.

‘Got me believin’

You’ve been stuck

And glued in frequent doubt.’

He tightened his grip, drawing another soft sound from you, the mix of pleasure and tension in the air thickening. His focus was solely on you now, on the way your body responded, on the sounds you made, and how this moment—this raw, unguarded moment—was pulling both of you closer to the unspoken lust that couldn’t be denied a moment longer.

You can’t help but let out a filthy little moan, whimpering along with it.

A shameless, guttural moan, that sent Jayce’s head into a spiral. He had been beyond desperate to coax those kinds of noises out of you for what felt like too long of an eternity. He was in no position to deny himself the opportunity to keep drawing them out of you.

His hands curled into a fist as he yanked on your hair, whimpers flying out of you like a flock of birds.

If you wanted to fight dirty, Jayce was game.

“Fuck..” He breathes out—eager, like a starved man who stumbled upon a banquet— as he pulls away from your lips, immediately pressing them against the skin of your neck he had exposed from his grip on your locks. He let his teeth drag along the skin, biting and harshly sucking on it in several places. Your reaction was deathly arousing. The slightly pained cries that flowed beside ones of pleasure sent Jayce’s burning temptation into orbit.

He knew you needed him in the way he had once gotten used to providing for you. His cock throbbed beneath his slacks, desperate to break free from the confines of the cloth that kept it contained.

It was arguably harder than it had ever been, his anger and inability to have you for so long adding fuel to the fire of his pure incessant need to bury himself deep inside you.

‘I know the feeling

Cause I can’t keep

My mind open now.’

Oh, how you both longed to be connected like that again. In the way all lovers know well—their unspoken second nature.

He ruts his hips against yours, your own body responding instinctively by meeting them in their attempt to seek friction.

You both emit low grunts at the new sensation, satiating the tension for now.

You felt as though you were being scorched from within, the intense heat of your desire and simmering rage intertwining, each stoking the other in a relentless blaze. Every nerve burned with an insatiable hunger, a craving that went beyond pleasure, pulling you deeper into a whirlwind of both ecstasy and agony.

You needed more—not just the thrill of sensation, but the raw, cathartic pain that seemed to heighten the fire within you. Your soul ached for an outlet, something that would satisfy the chaotic tension, where your lust and frustration could collide, erupting into something that might finally ease the raging storm inside.

You snaked your arms around his neck, giving a small jump into him as you anchored onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist. He hums darkly in reaction to the sudden motion, his hands releasing their clasp on your hair to instead latch onto the bottom of your ass—-supporting you as you clung to him.

Jayce’s head shot up from it’s spot between your head and chest, moving to a new vantage point in order to scan the area. He was a man with a mission.

A mission to uncover the perfect place, somewhere secluded and unremarkable—a refuge hidden from the world where he could channel the fury between you with ruthless intensity. It had to be a spot where nothing could interrupt the raw, unfiltered release of tension—a place where every movement, every act, could be as drastic and unforgiving as the anger that surged through both of you.

Needless to say—and in an extremely simple turn of phrase—-He needed to fuck the rage out of you— and he would stop at nothing to do so.

After a few tense moments, Jayce focused, his eyes landing on the perfect hidden corner in all of Piltover. His grip tightened on you as he began to lead you toward it. The alleyway was small and shadowed, tucked between two shops that had long since closed for the night. The buildings on either side pressed in tightly, their walls forming a dark, narrow passage that swallowed any light. The darkness obscured it from street lamps and passersby, though Jayce hardly seemed at all concerned about the possibility of wandering eyes, anyway.

The alley itself was already tucked away from the main streets, but the particular spot his intentions were set on was even more concealed—through the alley and to the right, behind the buildings entirely, not just in between.

Overhanging eaves, garbage bins and scattered crates cloaked the area, creating a thick, impenetrable shadow. It was a secluded pocket, completely hidden from view, untouched by the faintest glimmer from the street beyond.

A perfect haven of obscurity, though the lack of any inviting scenery was hardly worth a second thought. The cracked cobblestones, the faint smell of damp earth, rotting trash, and the forgotten clutter of the alley seemed irrelevant. In a place like this, where shadows held sway, scenery had no claim. Nothing mattered but the raw, pressing heat of the moment.

You sank your teeth into his neck, your hands exploring his shoulders with a quiet, persistent need. He groaned beneath your bite, his un-abating lust taking the lead furthermore, as he harshly slammed your back against the abrasive stone walls of the building. His mouth was quick to covet yours once more, lips voraciously seeking stimulation from them.

Your sensual tango of lips pressing against each other, hips grating and rutting into each other’s carried out, Jayce beginning to make quick work of exposing you to the elements, his cock still hard as ever as it brushed against your clit beneath the layers of clothing. You can’t help but whimper out in response.

With the new advantage of pinning you to the stone wall—-combined with the leverage of your legs still around his waist—-his hands grew eager, rushing to tear your blouse apart. His fingers slid between the buttons of the opening, pushing through the seam before he gripped tight and wrenched it apart. Several buttons flew free, briefly distracting from the sharp bite of the cold air against the newly exposed skin.

You couldn’t help but whine into the cavern of his mouth, the rough display of lust redirecting all of your aching and longing straight to your clit. It throbbed with intent, a desperate reminder that you needed more friction. You greedily rolled your hips into his, yielding another low, filthy grunt from Jayce.

“Fuck.” He pants against your mouth, hands kneading at your breasts, cock twitching beneath his trousers.

Oh, how he longed to revisit the memories of your past encounters, to re-enact the acts of pleasure he had learned to bring you. But in such a moment, he couldn’t bring himself to slow down. As much as he yearned to please you in the ways he’d spent so much time discovering, there was no time, now. The urgency of the present situation demanded everything from him. If he didn’t bury his cock deep within you, right now, and fuck you senseless, he’d probably keel over.

This was his last chance. His only chance to rewrite your history.

‘Am I the reason,

That you can’t look past,

Your future self?’

Without a second’s hesitation, Jayce tore your legs from his waist, practically dropping you to the ground. In one swift motion, he flipped you around, pressing your cheek forcefully into the cold stone wall with one hand. You groan out, the harsh force of his motions prodding your deep-seated anger once more. His chin reclaims its resting point on your shoulder, teeth claiming your earlobe between them as he pressed his mouth to your ear. You groan out of sudden distaste for the new position.

”Don’t act like you didn’t want to end up under me like this.” He growls into it, the words viscerally stabbing at your clit, earning a thirsty cry from you.

He spread your legs with his feet, his free hand clambering to release his throbbing cock from it’s fabric prison. He yanked your pants down, the sound of his belt clinking sending shivers up your spine as your cunt pulsated in anticipation.

You were beyond wet—the word a dull description of the way your cunt was absolutely sopping, dripping, and practically gushing for him.

Despite your evident arousal, you weren’t used to things happening so fast. You began to protest as your back arched against his brawny, bold, and burly chest.

“Jayce— wait!” You started to say, before his teeth clamped down onto your earlobe with increased vigor, your words fading into torrid moans as a result.

He pulls your underwear to the side, fist pumping his deprived cock before he lined himself up with your soaking cunt.

“Shut up and take my fuckin’ cock.” He barked.

Before you even had a chance to breathe, he plowed into you, curling his hips up to press flush against your ass. You had no choice but to brace yourself. Your hands flew to the cold stone wall, gripping tightly to keep from collapsing under the force of it all.

The sound that tore from deep within your chest was raw, loud enough to make anyone within a hundred feet of the building take concerned notice. Anyone outside of you and Jayce would have assumed you were being murdered.

It was a deliciously vile sound, thick with want, neediness, desperation, and all the emotions you had yet resolved.

“Fuck!” You scream, tears stinging in your eyes as Jayce began slamming up into you with at an absolutely merciless pace. He wasted no time by giving you a single moment to adjust, knowing full well the rough nature was exactly what the situation called for. If he didn’t give this his all, everything was at stake. Or so he thought.

His thrusts were, at their core, crude—filthy, vulgar.

Lascivious.

They had an animalistic quality, one that attested to his own desires, and the hurtful longing he had harbored for you.

Jayce grunted, huffing out as he ruthlessly snapped his hips against the flesh of your ass. He plunged his teeth into the skin of your shoulder, the hand that held your face against the stone withdrew from you. Jayce pulled it beneath your arm, wrapping around your chest to imperviously grip at your breast, using his hold on it to further aid in the force with which he was bucking into you.

His other hand moved to your neck, fingers tightening around it with a possessive grip. The pressure forced the air from your lungs, and you gasp, the sound barely escaping as your breath becomes shallow. You squirm, struggling to breathe, but his hold doesn’t loosen. Instead, it pulls you in deeper, mixing fury with hunger. Each ragged breath, each flicker of resistance only seems to make it worse, the heat between you both building in the space where anger and desire collide.

“Fuck you.” He spat out in sync with his thrusts.

“Fuck.” —thrust.

“You.” —thrust.

“For.” —thrust.

“Leaving.” Thrust, thrust, thrust.

The words he spat out were coated in intent, each one seething with the same anger that simmered inside of him. The way he moved, pounding into you, was frantic, his hips driven by a fire that seemed to consume him.

‘Got me believin’

You’ve been

Stuck and glued

In frequent doubt.’

You could feel it, the heat coursing through his veins with every thrust—his body shaking with the intensity of it. There was nothing controlled about the way he gripped you, no tenderness. Just a reckless, furious need, each movement angry, as if he were fighting to push the rage out of his body and into you.

His soul had been set ablaze, and all you could do was feel the burn.

“Agh—“ You pant, air still desperate to escape your lungs as he clenched your throat.

“F-fuck you for—-Pretending like—-you care.” You choke out.

Jayce’s blood boils, his grip on your throat tightening beyond the point of care.

“Pretending like I care?” He pants as well, exhausting himself from the force with which he was railing his cock up into you.

“I care. More than—anyone—sunshine.” He very well shouts, words still in sync with his thrusts, on exhaling with each. He was absolutely plowing you now, the familiar nickname cutting through the air that surrounded you.

You were groaning out in pleasure and pain, the contrasting feelings mixing into one as he continued his relentless assault on your cervix.

“T-Then why—-why couldn’t you just—-“ Your lungs begged for air.

“Love me—-like I love—- you?” You gasp, your voice barely audible above the hunger for air.

‘I know the feeling

Cause I can’t

Keep my mind

Open now.’

Jayce’s movements stopped abruptly, his hands yanking away from you as if struck by a sudden realization. You gasped, breath catching painfully in your throat, stumbling back into the wall, your body desperate for air that was slow to come. The intensity that had fueled him moments before seemed to drain in an instant, leaving you gasping in the silence.

Jayce felt an overwhelming wave of guilt crash over him, sharp and suffocating, like a bucket of ice-cold water being poured straight over his head. It hit him all at once, a gut-punch of realization that mirrored the guilt he had seen on your face earlier when you slapped him—raw, unfiltered, and impossible to escape. His chest tightened, a heaviness settling in his stomach as he stood there, frozen, unable to look at you.

His hips stilled, his body rigid as the anger that had driven him to this point shifted, replaced by something softer—-sadder. His heart felt heavy in his chest, sinking like a stone in water.

All that was left in the alley was the erratic—-uneven sound of your breathing, each inhale a struggle, sweat slicking your skin, catching the light of the moon in fragile glimmers. The silence stretched out, thick with unspoken tension, the weight of what had just transpired hanging between you like a shroud, heavy and unresolved.

His mind was a blur, thoughts scattered and jumbled, short-circuiting in a way that left him dizzy. He couldn’t make sense of the guilt spiraling through him, the crushing weight of having crossed a line he hadn’t even seen until it was too late. Until you said what you had said.

That you loved him.

He removes his chest from your back, pulling himself out of you in the process.

Jayce reached for you, his hands trembling as he gently grasped your shoulders, his touch softer than it had been all night. His fingers barely brushed your skin, as if afraid to make contact after everything that had just happened. With a careful, almost reverent motion, he spun you around to face him. The moment your eyes met, his chest seemed to cave in on itself, a sickening weight settling there.

His heart felt like it had physically dropped, plummeting to the pit of his stomach with a sickening thud. The sight of you, tears streaking down your face, the raw anguish in your expression—it shattered him. Every ounce of anger, every moment of fury that had driven him earlier seemed like a distant memory in the face of the heartbreak he had caused.

How could he have been so reckless? The thought screamed in his mind, impossible to silence. The guilt that gripped him now was suffocating, crushing. He’d seen your pain in the heat of the moment, but now it hit him full force—really hit him. The tears in your eyes weren’t just a reminder of what he’d done; they were a reflection of how far he had pushed you, how little he had cared in the frenzy of his own anger.

And now, standing in front of you, he couldn’t undo it. All he could do was stare at the damage he had inflicted, helpless, terrified of what he’d become.

“___…” He whispers.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

may i request miguel helping reader to relieve stress after a long day at school? uni's been HELL and i just know miguel would treat me like a princess and pamper my exhausted ass after a 10 hour school day.. tysm in case you do it! 🙏

hii!! as it’s in italics, im taking that as nsfw?? I really hope so bc that’s what I did oops😭 if you did mean sfw, send it in again so I can redo. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

--

word count: 611 // {18+ fem!reader, mdni}

thots below cut

firstly, miguel is just so proud of you for going to university. he knows it's tough, and you often struggle with the workload, but he is just in awe of you for furthering your education. he knows that when you come home exhausted and tense, all you want is a way to relieve said stress. he intends to do that for you in the only way he knows works- the only method with a zero percent fail rate. 

when you get back, miguel is already helping you- taking your bag, removing your coat, helping you take off your shoes. he doesn't want his pretty girl to overexert herself, especially if she's had a strenuous day, so he does things for you- treats you like a princess, his princess.

his towering, intimating height would lead you to the sofa, guiding you with his large hand in yours, kissing the back of it every several moments. he'd stand before you, kissing at your neck as his fingers snake into the waistband of your bottoms, tugging them down as his kisses lowered, trailing down your arm as he knelt to the floor. the slow and delicate line would continue down your now exposed thigh, holding you still by the waist as he pulled your trousers off your ankles. 

"hermosa," he'd mumble, taking your hand and guiding you to the couch- making you sit down.

you'd do as he says, and he'd sit on his knees between your spread legs, dragging you by the hips so that you're right at the edge of the sofa, spread nice and wide for him. he would hold under your foot, gripping the heel as he trails kisses up the inside of your leg, brushing over your upper inner thigh before swapping to your other leg. moving slow and teasingly, like he was trying to ease you.

he would lightly kiss at the crease where your cunt meets thigh, not daring to touch it yet. skimming over the edge of your underwear as he mumbles what he wants to do to you, muttering about how perfect you are- how pretty you are.

you're tired and stressed, almost fragile at this point, so he'd be careful with you- not teasing you for too long, not wanting you to break before he's already begun. he doesn't tempt you for too long- just long enough to see a small, needy wet patch form in your underwear. 

you're desperate and whiney, blabbering about how much you need him, how you don't like getting teased- especially right now. so he gives in, giving his girl what she needs.

he'd part your underwear aside, hooking it over your pussy, keeping the fabric in place with his large fingers. he'd mumble a few curses as he darts over your pussy, staring at the way your slick made it glisten, how you'd clamp and tighten around nothing- the way your clit would practically be throbbing, almost begging to be touched. 

he loved to watch you like this, a quivering and needy state, desperate and urgent for him- loves seeing how much a mess he has made of you, without touching even you. 

he'd itch closer, exhaling over your pussy in a way that made you shudder before finally giving you what you want. lavishly licking over your folds and sucking them into his mouth, practically slobbering all over you. making out with your cunt and caressing you with his skilled tongue. 

he wouldn't stop until you're pushing his head away, writhing under him, and even then, he'd struggle to pull away. but miguel couldn't help it. he just loves your sweet, pretty pussy. and his beautiful girl <3

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

[kokoasci]

hey hiii love your art and i am astonished by your background composition, is there a process behind that or maybe tips you would share ?

hi!! thank you! this kind of like depends per piece, im not a professional artist (compsci student, so take my advice as a student with no formal art studies with enough salt to taste) but i do have a kind of general-ish process that i can talk about like with this scara piece comp:

i work pose first, composition second: i.e. i draw a pose and usually refine it before i start thinking about a background lol 😭

working general -> specific is my best friend, and I think it also helps me evolve a drawing as i go, since i don't usually have an idea for a full composition when i start (that's so stressful to me LMAO) you can see this progress here (i erased the basic guidelines though so theres no facial features, but i usually leave the face for last anyway because it helps me fit in an expression better)

by the time i have a full pose THEN ill start refining to an actual composition. this is also the point at which i decide to start putting actual effort in

then i just. fill the background with objects, usually ones that have a connection to the character or vibe im trying to fit. this is a weird example because the only things i know about scaramouche is there's some sort of like connection with puppets and he also likes his vision so i played with that idea, which is kind of where those fishes and the general pose came from. (i go into more detail about this here!)

i originally wanted to have puppet strings for those objects as you can see below but it made the final piece kind of muddy so i took them out :(

then its just coloring, which is usually what takes me the longest because im so. indecisive 😭 i like to keep depth and 3d space as the like #1 thing in my mind while coloring though and how shadows will work with that, because i think it helps a piece pop out way more

and that's how i get my compositions !! i make it seem pretty streamlined here please know it's a lot of redoing whole parts of the drawing and fixing the background/foreground until im happy with the finished result

thank you for asking, i hope this helped answer the question <3

[1eoness]

Could you make a Dom!Leon x trans ftm reader NSFW fic with some fluff thrown into there?

୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ author rambling; HI i am eating pineapple rn and i never forgot this request. just to clarify and for some context, i dont have experience of writing !reader anything out of sub afab so im sorry if this is super inaccurate or inapplicable or unsatisfying and im open to criticism on this :( :) idk im so sorry aghdfhdsfhdj i really need to work on this. oh and i read some ftm smut for this so ty to those writers :> pls criticize anything off (with reason ofc). [btw i feel like this is super bad im sorry im not feeling creative rn i have writers block :((( ]

anyway 'DOM!LEON KENNEDY X TRANS FTM READER NSFW WITH SOME FLUFF THROWN IN THERE' COMING UP. i'm sorry this took so long for such short content too :(

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

cw: fluffy dom!leon kennedy, trans ftm!reader (w/ bottom surgery) [i can always redo this if you don't like me mentioning top/bottom surgery]. praise, oral (reader receiving)

synopsis : re4r leon and he loves u and ur worried little face and he's gonna kiss it better (and fuck it better, maybe).

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

leon loves you. he knows you're constantly worried over him being troubled over his trauma but he wants you to know, between every crevice of his clouded thoughts, that he loves you and it's the surest thing he knows. it's hard to admit but even when he loses himself, it will always, and forever be clear to him that you have his heart and there's a reason why.

you were about to get under the covers to go to sleep (after a day that felt longer than it should be.). though, you lowered your headphones to the lower end of the volume once you saw leon through the bedroom doorway.

"baby, i wanna tell you something." leon said, his quiet and soft voice only going a decibel higher as he crawls to you on your bed. he hated seeing you about to sleep with such a worried look on your handsome face.

you thought he didn't notice? even if you're his neutral-faced boy, he knows when the air around you feels more somber than usual. "do you ever feel.."

"like a plastic bag?" you quipped quickly. (i'm sorry if you don't get it)

"no, damn it." leon's mutter-reply followed with a quiet chuckle that you echoed. he likes that about you, your incessant annoying humor (but you'll never beat him in that). he sighs, and tries again. "you know, like... you're kind of.. stressed over someone else's troubles?"

to be honest, he doesn't really know how to go about it. he doesn't want you to think you're burdening him—though, you could never ever make him feel like that. leon nears you, hovering above you and adoring your face wherever his mind runs. for some reason, before you guys go to sleep he just does this. he also likes talking to you before you both go to sleep ♡.

you hum, just a little bit sleepy. "what do you meann?" you ask quaintly, and leon's heart melts at the tone of your slightly languid voice. you sounded so cute. a rather random yet soft laugh escapes before he dips down to give you a small kiss on your cheek.

"...y/n, i'll just be straight—i don't want you going to bed looking so.. upset." leon mutters softly, rubbing over the skin of your cheekbone with his thumb. maybe he shouldn't have gone into detail how heavy his mission felt. because when he was done talking, you gave him some short comfort and impulsively stood up and said that you needed to wash the dishes (and the dishwasher was literally running when you said that).

at first he thought he did something wrong and upset you, and the guilt immediately seeped in. naturally, he didn't want it to go undiscussed, that would murder him! so he went to find you ASAP. but when he went to check on you in that dim kitchen, he saw you with your back turned and trying to silence your tears. apparently, you felt so bad for him it was enough to hurt you, too. you were just too sweet—leon also felt bad. he gave you some space for a bit, though he's sorry because he really wants to be there for you and he can't afford to leave you by yourself sometimes :(

you looked a little to the side from his forward words. you didn't really know what to say in response, you were just.. tired, and also worried. leon understands this, picking up on it and showing it by giving you a reassuring, subtle smile. he wants to see you smiling, too, and he knows just how to do it. it's his favorite thing about his little boy ♡.

"..come, baby." he coos quietly as he began to take a hold on either sides of your face, knowing you don't need discussion right now. maybe loving is enough. and loving you is a way of reassuring himself, you just need to accept that :( so you be good for him and let him give you the praise you deserve (and so much more).

he kisses you on the forehead first. he loves cradling your handsome little face, placing safe pecks all over it. especially on that spot a little adjacent from under your eyes. leon hums when his lips reach your jaw, peppering it with innocent love. but will it really only go that far? "because you're the most perfect boy ever." he reasons hushedly, his left hand holding the side of your neck and caressing it gently.

oh, it's going to be one of those nights where he kisses you all over and doesn't leave you alone.. but you know better than to complain.

"y're so clingy..." you decided to joke, though you both knew you loved it. while you giggled at his antics, you can feel him smiling into the skin of your neck. he's so ready to spoil you rotten.. and you had no idea:( ♡

he moves his broad hands under your shirt, handling your being with tutelage. the fuss of the sheets make hush noise as he moves downwards, worshipping your body along the way by placing kisses over your clothed stomach. "...so?" he laughs softly against the skin of your lower inner thigh, the fluttery feeling of his lips planting a kiss on it making you shudder. he sees you, and how you turn so bashful all of a sudden.

"..tickles?" leon mumbles amusedly.

"yeah-" you mutter in response before he abruptly did it again on your stomach this time, which made you giggle. you were just too precious to him!

he holds your thighs in his hands for a minute, resting his head against your left thigh. you see the muscles on his arm flex subtly while he does so, your stomach tumbling at witnessing his strength at such a mild moment. for a minute he just gazes at you fondly, a hinting coyness hiding beneath his expression.

you were making it so tough for him. he just wants to kiss you all over . hell, he might even want to merge corporealities with you.

he doesn't speak, his eyes trailing down to your pelvic area while unnoticeably smirking to himself. you were so cute to him, so what else can he do but lift your thighs over his broad shoulders?

but he looks up at you, immediately. his fingertips are teasing at the hem of your bottom clothing, insinuating what he wants to do for you as he lightly taps at your skin. "baby, may i?" he asks with a sudden comforting tone. he'll never make you do something you don't wanna do. but like said, if you accepted, there's no promise that he's going soft on you.. but that's because he just wants you to be all nice and happy! a very innocent motive ♡

"mhm.." you hummed lowly, willingly giving him your greenlight. and has leon said he loves you?

"thank you, love.." he mutters shortly in reply before pulling your pajama bottoms just a little down. down enough for him to free your pretty shaft. he sees you blushing, covering the bottom half of your face with your sleepy hands.

and this man.. was so hard to predict!

the soft hunk of a man wants to wrap his right arm around your abdomen, pull your hips up to his face. "leon!-" you gasp abruptly with that same low voice.

"shhh, baby." leon mumbled while his left hand snaked around to cage your right thigh firmly to his shoulder. his knees dip on the comforters, pulling his boy's lower body up like he was challenged to lift a feather.

you quickly brought your hands up to take your headphones off, but leon suddenly spoke when you pried the muffs off your ears.

"keep them on." he cuts your actions off. the subtle demand of his tone says you're going to keep them on. he, somehow, reaches to turn the volume up on your headphones. you were puzzled, not knowing what he was aiming to do with such-

"a-aah!-" you yelped in utter surprise. a dribble of spit threads from his pretty lips and down onto your length..

he's hunched over as he takes your tip, then more in his mouth. he glances at your dumbfounded eyes, and you swear you could see him smirking to himself. but before you could think further, he was suddenly suckling onto your cock so firmly you started to squirm.

but that's why leon's holding you so tightly, so you can take it the way he needs you to~

you felt restricted. leon wants to steal your senses, inject pleasure in your veins like he were trying to fucking save you. he's beginning to get so hard that it makes him whine against your shaft, and he's so hard that you're making it difficult for him to think rationally.

"l-leonn! slow down!~" you cried without sense, which only urged his fingers pressing into your skin as he held you in place. he takes an inch further, his mouth working eagerly, making sure you can understand his carnal urge of making you cum with his mouth. "uh-uhh!-.... nghhh-hh..."

"mhmm..mmmm..." he hummed roughly, following with a soft growl as he slurped you up stupid. you kept moving. why were you moving so much? you were so sleepy just a minute ago.. oh, well; leon thinks. but is this man really oblivious to the fact that he can make you feel so, so good?

of course he wasn't. your erotic whines got louder and louder by the minute as your headphones disabled you from being conscious of your tone at all. your voice fell muffled upon your ears but leon was devouring it, using your moans and sobs as a motive to eat you up until you're heart-eyed. you couldn't even make sense of the music anymore as leon's mouth clouded your empty mind.

i'm gonna drown you in pleasure, baby.. leon thinks to himself while he's busy adoring you and the way your cock twitches onto his tongue :(

you were flailing slightly while leon went down on you, seeing you and your eyes struggling to keep open. he trails his left hand up and down your thigh, the sensation feeling a little ticklish. your chest rose and fell warmly, trying to reach out to stop him with a weak hand but he wouldn't let you and he feels (mildly) sorry. but it doesn't make him halt— he looks at you with sweet eyes that say 'please cum for me~'

you whined weakly at this, voice going raspy as you full on started to cry. you felt so vulnerable and so good at the same time and you trusted leon so much. you could feel it, could feel him about to siphon your orgasm out of you. just the way he wanted it..

the faucet began to spill and you were crying, the tears trickling down your cheeks messily and around your headphones, too. leon looked at you with mostly with affection, but also with a bit of sympathy. you must've had such a hard time, huh? he's so happy he can make you feel better..

"u-uhh, f-fuck, leon!! n-nno- nggh..a-ahh!-" you didn't even know what you were blabbering or retorting for anymore, but your hips twitched in his grip as you began to tremble within the fuzzy feeling of your orgasm. you were being such a pretty boy for him like this, all sensitive and crying after one minor blowjob. how were you going to handle the rest of the night like this?

it was hard to ignore his boner at this point. "mm..mhh, fuck- such a good boy f'me, huh?" he groans while he sucks on you at a slower pace, trying not to overwhelm you too hard (but still overwhelming you :( he's sorry, he swears.). "god, you're so cute.. but you have him so horny and frustrated now, what did you just do to this boy? he isn't frustrated at you.. but..

he isn't letting go of your thighs any time soon.

[phrandallanton]

do you have any tips on learning anatomy ?!1?1 im losing my mind over it 😿

Watch videos on YouTube about it or looking it up online, basic info I know. We live in the time where information is so exseable, use that to your advantage! The only place you should avoid is TikTok. Don't get me wrong there are some good creators on there but tutorials are better on YouTube and Google as I feel like they explain more. Here's some channels I recommend for not only learning anatomy but art as a whole:

Marc Brunet:

Draw like a sir:

tppo

As of tips I can bring to the table, the biggest one is don't stress over making things perfect! One of the reasons why I love the RANFREN style is how poorly drawn it is and that's what makes it look good. I know it sounds like an insult but it's not. The hands are always so effed up looking and that's my favorite part. Another example is Shin Chan. A lot of the adult's faces are always so wonky but it works and I love it.

Of course you need to learn the rules before you break them. Even the most exaggerated art use basic anatomy/fundamentals. But you don't always have to play by them. Art is subjective, you can draw a piece that has perfect anatomy and fundamentals and people may still not like it. Draw whatever looks good to you and makes you happy!

(This may differ though as if you want to get into a job where you have to draw in a sertant way/sertant thing the whole "I don't care what people think" isn't going to work. I personally do art as a hobby and never plan on doing it to appeal to others so I can bank off of it. If one day I can do that, cool. If not, also cool. That's how I see it! When it comes to trying to make art profitable a lot of creativity can be lost as most places don't want to take a risk of doing something that can effect them and the money. Little tangent, oops. But yeah, keep in mind that what I just typed out is coming more from a hobbyist stand point rather a professional one!)

Another thing is if there's something you don't like about your piece, then fix it. I use to say whatever when there was something I didn't necessarily like about my art because I didn't want to redo hours of work or mess up something, but trust me redoing it and getting it somewhere you like is so much better. Once again, the internet has lots of information to help so don't be shy to look up on how you can make something look to your liking. Criticism can also help with this. Always be open to constructive criticism when you're wanting to get better! Doesn't mean you have to apply said criticism to your art but it's still something you 100% should be open to.

Also with practicing try and do 30 minutes at a time and taking 15 minutes breaks in between. You're brain tends to absorb more information then studying for an hour straight. And don't push yourself to study every moment of your life. You should have a good balance of studying and free drawing. And please take breaks too. Burn out is not fun, it can take a long time to overcome it. (Coming from someone who experienced burn out for over a whole year.)

You also may not learn at it right away. Take your time and go easy on yourself! Don't compare your art to others as you have no clue how many hours they spent into practicing, and I assure you most artist have drawn stuff that looks horrible compared to what they post online. People will only post stuff they think looks good for the world to see. Your practice sketches aren't the best but it's one of the steps that's going to help you get where you want to be! <(＾⊆＾)_/¯

[moookar]

could you tell me about ur ocs? i don't know like anything about them at all but they seem super cool! /nf

GWAAH thank you for the ask <33 i love any opportunity to infodump, this made my night

all the important stuff is here! that's the short version, it mostly focuses on characters which i recommend reading first i think. It's kind of out of date though </3

i figure i can go over some of the plot here :] but first some lore notes: generally 1820s-ish, takes place in a kingdom named Wralan, magic is a thing although im in the middle of redoing it

the first Important plot thing that happens is the duke and his eldest daughter's death. Caparal is left in line for succession, but he *really, really* doesn't want to do that--he suffers from really severe social anxiety & never expected this & is currently mourning & is genuinely not good at the skills needed for this & & &.

*Lionel*, on the other hand, has wanted literally nothing more than to make a difference his whole life, and is actually a competent, intelligent charismatic person--a strong leader.

(He's also 19 years old and has severe anxiety, paranoia, and isolation issues.) (He's a better duke, but it's not healthy.)

Caparal giving this role to his younger brother made him a mild laughingstock at best, embarrassing to be associated with at worst.

Caparal and Lionel were really only close when they were younger teenagers. (oooh i wrote a short story about them at this time, after i finish the 3rd draft i could DM it to anyone curious). They strongly drift apart after Lionel becomes duke, partially due to the massive amount of stress Lionel is under (his #1 coping mechanism is isolating himself) and partially due to the fact Caparal is extremely busy with his work in alchemy and is hoping Lionel will come to him if he needs help.

4 months later, after Lionel has established himself as duke and realized that he is frankly Fucked because of how irresponsible with money his father was, a very polite person representing a prolific bank in Wralan very nicely offers to help him :) out with this rough financial situation :) just giving him a little money to help him get on his feet :) (bold faced bribes. Lionel is near forced to accept, and so begins his fraught relationship with Tiguuak Prasad, evil bbg of the century)

8 months later, lionel comes to believe caparal is planning to usurp lionel's place; Lionel genuinely doesn't understand why Caparal wouldn't want to be duke, for one, and assumes it's some sort of 3 steps ahead move he doesn't understand, but more importantly he thinks he has evidence. i don't know for sure what this "evidence" is yet--it's contingent on me finishing the magic system--but it's something that Lionel, someone who was already expecting something bad, can make a hasty judgement about.

Caparal remains.. completely unaware of this. He completely misses every cue. sorry king

So like. when Caparal turned down being duke that kind of messed up his social standing right. so ahaha his fiance's (Andrea Munteanu) family doesn't want to form that connection with him anymore. but terminating that relationship would be a boldfaced insult so their marriage is just kind of ???? indefinitely postponed

MEANING. Lionel literally cannot just kick Caparal out. Caparal moving somewhere else without his fiance's family's consultation would also be seen as terminating that relationship which is a blow Lionel Really can't take right now so they're kind of just ? stuck in the same fortress??

Anyway Lionel's fear gets much much worse over more months and basically just boils over into you know what FUck this. He hates being in this limbo. He's just going to kill him first.

So while Caparal is out on a trip, out of Lionel's sight (and therefor a death he can't see), he hires an assassin.

VERY MUCH unfortunately for Lionel a person named De Witte would very much like to fuck over the bank that's bribing him (for reasons I will not go into because this post is getting way too long)

So they hire a merc company to make sure Caparal doesn't get assassinated :) and the mercenaries on the job (well, more like mercenary) are Delayne and Rye! our other two protagonists!

And around here is where book 1 begins!

<3333 thank you for the ask mwah mwah mwah. I love political intrigue if you couldn't tell. anyway i shall leave you with 1 song that i think describes the characters lyrically

Lionel: Ship in a Bottle. Caparal: Good as it Gets. Rye: Worst Case Scenario. Delayne: Numb Little Bug.

Rye and Delayne are the fan favorites (/j, they are my friends' favorites though) and I did them dirty here <////3. Sorry guys. I'll post more about them soon i prommy

you can find all art of them in the "#exiled ocs" tag! <33

[cassyapper]

I'll redo it just in case.

PREPARE TO BE ASTOUNDED ONCE AGAIN

FOR I AM MAKING A STICK SEASON WWMTA ANIMATIC

AND NOTHING CAN STOP ME

EVEN IF I CANT DO IT DIGITALLY ILL WHIP OUT MY PAPERS AND DO THAT SHIT BY HAND

I WILL NOT BE HINDERED THIS IS NOW INEVITABLE RAHHHH

i hope you'll like it :)

IM GONNA THROW UP FROM EXCITEMENT OH MY GOD DUDE

PLEASE YOU REALLY DON'T HAVE TO I DONT WANT U TO BE STRESSED OR PRESSED ABOUT IT IT IS ABSOLUTELY OKAY IF U DON'T DO IT/NEVER FINISH IT/ETC JSUT KNOW THAT THIS SENTIMENT ALONE IS MAKING ME SMILE SO HARD MY EYES ARE GETTING TEARY WHAT THE FUCKKKKK IMC RAZY BASIL THANK YOU FOR EVEN MENTINING IT IM KNJ

[freebooter4ever]

The more i use this z*modeler system, and the faster i get at it the more i am a little in awe of it - or at least the intention behind it, i'm not sure if it's entirely 100% successful yet.

Im an anxious person in general and poly modeling tends to stress me out unecessarily because its soooo easy to make mistakes early on - you kind of have to map out the geometry of the entire thing in your brain before starting if you don't want to be undoing and redoing entire sections. I'm capable of doing it, obviously but it's not exactly fun constantly having to check and recheck your geo.

Z*modeling is trying to take that stress away. Smoothable quad geometry is built into the system and it actively works to prevent you from making any unclean geo decisions. Its fascinating. Im not gonna lie, the helmet was a bit of a nightmare but the skates are going so much smoother than they would in maya. Its like sculpting how i draw in a strange way that is boggling my mind a little bit. I'm also still undecided about whether or not i would use this professionally.

[unclekaz]

forgot to make a post about it but news about my retake for my degree:

so i went in yesterday and well. my retake is postponed! mainly because i phoned a resource officer and the guy went 'damn that sucks do you want me to press charges against your professor 🥺'

ofc i said 'NO????' so now i have to retake on thursday.

however. this means this ENTIRE week im going to be STRESSED OUT OF MY MIND

because remember, if i don't pass this retake? i have to redo the entire final year. fuckkkkkk

[keefwho]

January 28 - 2024

10:54pm

5/10

I haven't journaled this weekend because each night I was intoxicated and having too much fun/too tired to do it. But it's been a very average weekend. A lot of watching stuff/ working on stuff. Today I made stew with ramen noodle and invented something new to experiment with. I also had ideas about how I could start recycling. I watched more Band of Brothers and then drew something for Daisy which took exactly 1 hour. Then I worked on my project some more before lunch. I took a very light hit of my pen. Lunch was a little pizza I put together with my own toppings. I watched some Bojack. In the afternoon I chilled watching XQC on the side while I worked on my project some more. I decided to redo a big part of it again but it was worth it and I think I actually have what Im going to stick with now. This whole process could have used more planning from the start. When Daisy was free she told me how she broke her mom's very expensive coffee maker and was upset about it. I felt bad and always wish I could help in some way but straight up giving money is not really fair to me or welcome in general so I thought up that she could do YCH doodles that I finish and we split the profit for a tiny bit of income. We watched an episode of Bojack and She Ra which was fun, then got in VR and played Wii Tennis for a little bit. D2 joined and some stranger. We got off so she could play Zelda but we didn't find Gorons like we are looking for. In bed I continued Kingdom Hearts after a few day hiatus.

The weekend was very average which I'd consider to be a good thing since weekends for the past while have been something I dread. I still need to figure out how to have fun by myself or get out of my comfort zone a bit. I spent a good chunk of the weekend stressing out over this project of mine and it's all I wanted to work on so I could stop thinking about it. I think I put too much effort into trying to make it perfect from the start, I really think it should have been done by now and without so many issues. But I learned about refining my process.

Ive also been realizing how samey my life is, I really don't leave this room or my desk. Mostly because of a lack of things to do outside. My parents have to take me everywhere and they are dreadful to work with. I really am banking on my friend Jared coming home so I can get out in a way that is actually nice for once.

[doctor-bus]

[dadrage.jpeg]

[bekaroth-reads]

This is pure brainrot that has been stuck in my head for so dam long (tried writing and got embarrassed seeing how terrible it was // hence redoing rn) . After takin a look at your work for lupin ii hcs i was wondering if you could write this (might be abit weird oml im babbling hfdbez) but could you maybe write a hc when the lupin gang have a pregnant SO and when baby arrives? *IM SORRY IF ITS WEIRD BUT I HAD THE BRAINROT :') esp jigen cause hes a softie so i was wonderin ya know (ok i'll just lurk back in the shadows hdsiv)

[This is a cute idea, and I'm sure your version was adorable :) ]

[I did put it under a cut though because I know some people don't like this kind of stuff. Nothing graphic or anything, but if someone doesn't life pregnancy/baby stuff they might want to skip.]

Lupin

He’s a bit hesitant at first

But the moment that you mention the phrase, “Lupin IV” He’s totally in

Is eager, but doesn’t understand everything

He’s not totally clueless, and knows to keep you from overworking yourself or being in stressful situations and the like

But like are you sure you can’t drink? Even a little bit?

Surely you’ve got to start the baby’s appreciation for fine wines as soon as possible, right?

No, Lupin! That’s an absolute no!

When the time comes for baby to be here he’s not as panicked as you might think he would be

“Lupin, my water just broke!” “??? Water’s a liquid. How do you break it?? What do you mean???” “I mean take me to the hospital RIGHT NOW!”

When he’s sitting in the waiting room, THAT’S when he starts to panic

It’s more of a relief to him when they told him it was okay to go back

That being said the whole process of childbirth was kind of horrifying to him and he won’t be sleeping for at least a week

It messed him up more than it messed up you, and you were the one pushing another human out of your body

It’s all worth it to hold little Lupin in his arms

That is dependent on if you agree to the name or not

Jigen

He’s going to throw up

Not that he thinks you or the baby is disgusting or something

That' just too much for him to handle at first

Nervous as hell

Excited but still nervous

This wasn’t something that he was ever planning on having to deal with but here he is

Tries to cut down on smoking or at least doesn’t when he by you

But, he makes up for it when you actually go to the hospital

You both decide it would be too stressful for both of you if he was actually in the room

He’s gone through a whole pack of Reds and is about halfway through another when a nurse comes to the patio outside the hospital to tell him he could come into the room

He’s over the moon when he walks in and sees you and the baby

Wants to hold the baby, but is afraid all of the residual smoke on his jacket might be bad for them

Gets Lupin to bring him a clean shirt and holds the baby as soon as he has changed

RIP to his beard. He still keeps it, but as soon as baby gets grabby hands it’s target number one

Goemon

When you tell him he was in the middle of something so he didn’t process what you said at first

Just goes, “Oh, good.”

You were expecting him to be a bit more excited, but it was better than him freaking out

About five minutes later he comes rushing back into the room

“WAIT! WHAT DID YOU TELL ME?!”

Will be practically glued to you the whole time

If you need something he is there

Is a bit nervous but hides it well

Doesn’t want to do anything that might stress you out

Towards the end of the pregnancy, he really starts to panic

You could sneeze and he’ll start asking if there’s something horribly wrong

Those fast reflexes come in handy when you do need to go to the hospital

Will let you squeeze his hand as hard as you need to during everything

Won’t say anything for the longest time after the baby is there

He just stares in wonder at the little thing in his arms until he finally says with a slight quiver in his voice

“My child needs a good sword.”

Remind him that won’t come for awhile

Fujiko

Look if you’re pregnant then she must have known about it because it certainly isn’t biologically hers

She is all over the baby clothes

Your kid is going to look CUTE

As supportive as she can be, she is thankful that all of this stuff is not happening to her

Loves you more for going through it though

She’s actually the one that made your water break

The two of you were talking and she said something that made you laugh a little too hard

The next thing you knew she was rushing you out of the apartment and into the first cab she could find

She’s talking you through everything that you’ve both read about having a baby

More so to get her through everything than you

When the baby does get here she can’t stop gushing about how cute they are

You’ll have to fight her about holding the baby

Until it’s time to feed or change them

Then she doesn’t know what to do and it’s all you

Zenigata

When you first tell him he is floored

And for a second a little suspicious

Has he even been home enough to be the father??

He quickly says yes and scolds himself for ever doubting you

As soon as you get about six months in he thinks everything is you about to give birth

Has been trying to get you to go to the hospital every day for the past three months

Except for when your water actually breaks and he just freezes

“Oh, god! It’s actually happening!” “Just calm down, Koichi. Let’s go to the car.”

Speeds all the way to the hospital. What’s going to happen? Who’s going to give him a ticket?

Is with you the whole time for support

…until he passes out

Is more than happy when he wakes up and everything went fine

Bad news for you: baby’s got their daddy’s lung capacity and volume

He cries. Happy tears, but he’s just holding his baby and sobbing

Takes a whole month off to be with the two of you, and will hardly put the baby down the whole time

[rot-fox]

@anyone who i message, unless we are making time sensitive plans i do not care if you don't respond at all or take awhile to respond please don't guilt trip yourself on my behalf

[hella1975]

hey I have life advice to ask and if it's not cool then just go ahead and delete this-

I'm gonna be 17 soon and I was pulled out of school due to stuff I couldn't really control, so I dont really have a college/university to expect in about 2 years ish if I cant pull through out of my depression/anxiety and take the GED tests (american testing, its like a substitute for a highschool diploma, which is.... shit idk the differences to england but either way if I cant study and complete 4 giant tests, colleges/universities wont be available to me. I think.). I really could just move about anywhere I'm able to, and there's this place that I really, really love. I've done everything I can to know about it besides GOING there, because it is incredibly far away from my home. Really fucking far. It's been smth of an idea of mine I've held on to a year, like all the towns and places I dive into I just keep coming back to that spot. It feels like the one, like I can't really see myself growing old because of my depression but I can SEE it there, and I've never felt that.

The thing is I know from a few older mutuals of mine (and just other adults in gen) that things can change and while you might go to uni/college for [X Thing] you'll come out with something else you found so you'll now have [Y Thing]. like what you're expecting or want is going to change as you learn more or delve into it. I don't know how much I should take that to heart really? There's this fear that's been placed into me that I can't actually think for myself if I'm always going to be changing. I'm so confident about this rn but what about later? Sorry if this freaks you out too JFNSJMW like we're about 2-3 years apart but it just feels like so MUCH, I wanted your advice since you've got the uni experience I might miss out on

(My family is fine really like they're not going to kick me out or anything, they've just got other problems ig that I'd like to escape from because a lot of what they do has me just.. stuck with myself. It sucks being a teenager because I'm just in the middle of it all)

hi anonstie! sorry for the slow reply to this, i hope im not too late to any decision making. thank you so much for trusting me with this, it's a really scary situation for any teenager deciding on something that seems so defining, let alone with mental illness factors and possible family pressures. trust me I GET THAT. so everything i say is my opinion very tainted by my own bias and personal experiences, but you know that and asked me anyway so im gonna assume we're clear on that okay:

so as someone who not only has the uni experience but overall LOVES uni like could not have picked a better option i love my uni life i love my friends i love my independence so much that i stick doing a subject i HATE bc i love my life here so much - coming from someone in that position, you want to know what i think? if you're not sure about going to uni and genuinely think you'd be happier elsewhere, do not go. im being so serious. university is a challenge, and people know that, but you have to take what you think it's gonna be like and double how hard it really is. it's a fucking culture shock and a half and even those who settle in well (i like to think i did) still have trouble finding their feet, and it's fucking scary. you have to have a level of certainty to manage it. idk maybe im being too extreme here but ive seen so many people who regret uni and are the loneliest they've ever been, and if you already have mental illness weighing on you that's not a boat you want to be in even if you might not end up like that.

the option does not vanish just because you didn't do it at the 'correct' age. i can see ur stress around the exams and while i know fuck all about american education, i refuse to believe there's no ways around it or ways to redo at a later time, or even if you do just wind up with not very good qualifications, somewhere will take you. i was convinced that if i didnt get out of my hometwon at 18 with the natural progression in academia then i would be stuck there forever, and part of me still believes that no matter how silly it is, which is why i outright refuse to drop my subject even on the days when it eats me alive, because i think if i drop out i'll get stuck in my hometown. uni was an escape for me and that's one of the reasons i love it so much. but over time, while it still lingers i wont pretend it doesnt, ive realised how wrong that mindset is. there's so many types of people at university. some people come onto campus with their children. some people are middle-aged. some people just did a gap year. my own flatmate is a second year uni student just like us but she's a year older bc she dropped out of first year bc of covid and reapplied. uni made me realise how common MESSINESS is. i hardly know anyone who got here on the really straight and narrow route, and maybe that's just part of being the covid cohort who knows but there's not a 'correct' way of doing things.

idk i think school is very rigid UNTIL you reach eighteen, and bc the universe is such a bitch you only realise how fluid everything gets post-eighteen ONCE YOUVE MADE THE DECISIONS.

so yeah, if you want to know what i think? chase that place that's calling to you. worst case scenario is it lets you down but you finally scratch the itch; that alone is something to live for. if you ever change your mind, university and that path isn't going anywhere. there's always so much choice, we just sometimes box ourselves in until it feels like there isnt

[we-are-inevitable]

guys oh my GOD i just found my newsies rants from the first BIG night of my hyperfixation and. hng. there's so much good content in here

*messages copy and pasted under the cut!

NOTE: all of these messages are from April 19, 2020- the first day of my newsies hyperfixation!

listen racetrack and crutchie are some of my babes and i fucking love them

BEN TYLER COOK IS THE ONLY VALID RACETRACK AND I DESPERATELY NEED THEM TO REDO THE CAST ALBUM TO GIVE HIM THE SPOTLIGHT HE DESERVES

I CANT LISTEN TO KING OF NEW YORK ANYMORE BECAUSE. IT ISNT RACE. dont get me wrong racetrack from the soundtrack is like. really good but he ain't livesies racetrack good

also everyone ships race and spot which is valid but idk I just feel like race and albert have more in common?? like. spot is a great character and all of the Brooklyn Newsies deserve so much more screentime and so much more content but i just feel like the only reason people like race × spot is because of the Inner-Bourough Relations and the territorial stuff (bc the brooklyn bois are pretty spooky) but race × albert is so much cuter ?? like they're both Manhattan newsies and they share a lot more screentime and they have a lot more in common and like !! their interactions throughout King of New York makes me cry so hard i love them so much

something is telling me that if i dont learn All Of The Newsies by tomorrow i'm gonna scream

so i think later today i'm gonna rewatch livesies, then watch 92sies, then make myself a google slides presentation with a pic of each newsie and their name so i can figure this shit out

JACK AND CRUTCHIE ARE BROTHERS BUT WE STILL STAN THAT JACK/RACETRACK DYNAMIC

if anyone tries to tell me that racetrack ain't Jack's #2 Dude i WILL bite i dont care

like??? we literally see race kinda take charge after the bulls bust up their strike and jack fucks off to be Emo On The Rooftop (which is still valid and i love him for it) but race steps in and lifts everyone's spirits again and god i love him for it

it's real "Loving Racetrack Higgins Hours"

OH OH OKAY SO THE EMO ROOFTOP SCENE

LIKE. FUCK. people kinda got on Jack's case for leaving after the big fight breaks out and the bulls take Crutchie, but what else can he do? jack is 17. he's scared. he's dealing with his own trauma after what happened to him at The Refuge (which is never explicitly stated, but his reaction leads me to believe there was definitely some kind of ab•se (and its canon that the officers at the refuge don't feed the kids as they should)). he's seen as the tough guy, as the leader, as the father figure for all of the newsies, but he's a kid. he put his life on the line for them, but that's too much responsibility for a teenager.

jack got thrown in the refuge- a jail for kids- because he stole food and clothing for the other boys. he did everything he did for everyone else, without ever taking his own feelings into consideration; it was never a case of "what's in it for me?", it was always "will this help the guys i love?" and that is Jack's biggest quality i think.

anyway- so, he disappears after the fight because he's guilty. he watch his best friend- no, his brother- get taken by the bulls and watched the others he loves get hurt, and he couldn't stop it. again, this is a 17 year old we're talking about. his whole Santa Fe scene is the most pivotal part of the show in my opinion? like- we see Jack having a breakdown, essentially. "just be real is all i'm askin', not some paintin' in my head" is such a painful line because he's holding onto the hope that somewhere he's never seen is good enough to risk leaving his life behind for, and we see the struggles between wanting to stay and help his friends and wanting to get out and live and be able to have a life where he doesn't have to live with such a huge responsibility on his shoulders.

ALSO THE WHOLE THING WITH THE GUYS THINKING JACK IS A SELLOUT BECAUSE HE GOT MONEY FOR TRYING TO CONVINCE THE NEWSIES NOT TO CONTINUE THE STRIKE HURTS MY HEART

like Pulitzer basically said "if you don't tell them to stop this, i'll personally make sure all of them end up in the refuge" and even used Davey as a plot device, since Davey is one of the few that has folks and a little brother, and Pulitzer essentially said "you wouldn't want your pal Davey getting separated from his family, would you?"

Jack believed in the Strike, and he believed in the Newsies, but he couldn't handle the risk of more of his family getting beaten and thrown into The Refuge, and it kills me to see that he couldn't tell the others why he suddenly had a "change of heart", and that they all think that jw just gave up on them until they realize later on that Pulitzer manipulated him right where it hurt most

I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT NEWSIES AND NO ONE TO TALK ABOUT IT WITH SO UH,, IM SORRY YOU GUYS GET THE SHORT END OF THE STICK

listen i could write an entire essay over Santa Fe and i love that song and it's just such an iconic "I Want" song and !!! fuck !!!!!! it's so sad but it bops!!!!!

"folks are fightin, bleedin, fallin, thanks to good old Captain Jack! Captain Jack just wants to close his eyes and GO"

and then theres a really long pause and his voice cracks and the next line just ?? hurts me ??

"let me go, far away, somewhere they won't never find me, and tomorrow won't remind me of today"

HE'S SO SAD AND STRESSED AND HURT AND GUILTY AND JUST WANTS TO LEAVE THE SITUATION TO PREVENT ANYMORE BAD THINFS FROM HAPPENING ADN I JUST WISH I COULD HUG HIM

i just realized ive been ranting for 30 minutes i love u all goodnight