#it’s hard when something i love so much cannot be saved no matter how much i want him to be saved

[criminalgays]

TW: this post talks extensively about my cat who has end stage kidney disease and my reaction to finding out. please be cautious and remember that your mental health is more important than a stranger’s cat. i left the pictures up top because he is still a cutie pie that everyone should see at least once

introducing my cat chewbacca, who decided last thursday night he wanted to stop eating. we brought him to the vet friday for bloodwork and found that his kidneys were, for lack of a better term, fucked. my boss (aka our primary care vet) sent him down to the emergency vet in our area for the weekend and we found out he’s got stage 4 kidney failure. he had no symptoms that anything was wrong prior to not eating last week.

the emergency vets gave him 8-9 months to live if his quality of life stays consistently good. they think he’s had ckd (chronic kidney disease) for most of his life and it has progressed slow enough that his body has learned to live with it until now.

he’s home from the emergency clinic now, and he’s coming with me to work tomorrow to recheck bloodwork and so his primary can do another exam and we can talk about specific renal diets and what we can do to support him until it’s time for us to let him go.

it’s a really weird feeling, as a VA, knowing that your cat is in kidney failure and knowing that there’s nothing you can do or could’ve done about it. we had NO reason to believe he was sick and it’s honestly a miracle that my mom even noticed he hadn’t eaten thursday night or Friday morning because we have 3 other cats.

i want to believe that we’re going to put him on a renal diet and kidney supplements and he’s going to be perfectly fine and live until he’s 15, but i know that it’s not going to work like that. for now we just have to keep him as happy and healthy as we possibly can and roll with the punches.

[earthtooz]

fluff with a lot of angst, reader is injured and in hospital for one scene but it's not graphic, lovesick!bakugou

during the many years you’ve loved bakugou katsuki, you have only seen him cry three times.

the first time, you were alarmed. where you fell asleep on the couch awaiting your boyfriend’s return, you did not expect to wake up to the sound of sniffles and the sight of drying tears.

“katsuki? what’s the matter?” you asked cautiously, immediately sitting up to wipe his tears away.

your touch, like a healing balm to the blond, lets you treat him like glass when both of you know he is nothing akin to fragile.

“‘s nothin’,” he gruffly huffs, voice cracking a little.

“if you say so,” you murmur skeptically, knowing better than to prod when it’s bakugou involved.

“were ya waitin’ for me?”

you nod. “i thought we could eat together but- what time is it?”

“almost nine.”

“oh. i thought we could eat dinner together but your patrol must have ended a lot later.”

his heart aches pitifully, worsening when he watches you rub the sleep out of your eyes. “‘m sorry, i didn’t mean to come home so late.”

“it’s okay, i get it.”

“we can still eat together, if that’s okay,” he grumbles, looking away bashfully and missing the way your face brightens.

“that sounds lovely, i’ll go heat up dinner-“

“-no, i’ll do it. it’s my fault for coming home later, i’ll call you when it's done.”

bakugou is out of your sight before you can argue any further. as you watch your boyfriend disappear, you’re left pondering on the couch as to why he was acting so uncharacteristically. did he have a bad day? did something happen at work? was he unable to save someone? that’s can't be the reason, he always-

“dinner’s done!” your boyfriend calls from the kitchen, disrupting your thoughts.

when you asked, it didn't sound like he had a terrible day, in fact it sounds like he had a successful patrol, but you cannot fathom any other reason for his melancholy, but if he’s forgotten about it, then you will too.

but... bakugou doesn’t forget. he still remembers when midoriya first alluded to the inheritance of his quirk from all might, he remembers the night vision goggles kirishima broke when trying to save him that one time, he remembers your favourite things and what makes you happy; he remembers everything.

and he’ll never forget that the tears he shed tonight were over the fact that bakugou will never get to show you how much he loves you.

bakugou katsuki, for the first time, realised just how painfully human he is.

he has a heart that beats for you, limbs that longingly ache to be near you whenever he’s not, a mind devoted to you and a cursed mouth so incapable of expressing it all.

if he could, he would wrestle the night sky to give its stars to you instead because you love stars. you love the stupid things in life that bakugou can't give. he can’t give you everything you could ever want and with that realisation, bakugou discovered just how beatable he was.

you may never know the multitude of bakugou’s love for you, and that fact alone brings him to tears as he gazed upon your sleeping figure on the couch, resting peacefully until his arrival.

the second time, you wake up confused.

the lights in the room are dim, there's a machine beeping intermittently and you think it's a heartbeat monitor but you don't really think too hard about it because your body hurts.

you have to blink a few times to get the blurriness out of your eyes, but you eventually comprehend the sterile walls of a hospital room. then the memories come back one by one, a patrol gone awry, evacuating citizens and... ah, being slammed into a wall back-first by the villain. explains the pain.

then you register the looming figure beside your bed, a pair of widened vermillion eyes gazing into your own with untameable blond hair to match, you can't help the smile from spreading on your face when you see your lover.

"hey," you cough weakly, throat dry and scratchy from lack of use.

next thing you know, bakugou's bulky figure is draped over yours, forehead resting on your chest as his arms gently snake around your torso, bringing you into his chest and pressing himself firmly against you.

you feel him; his relief, his sorrow, his devotion, his painful sobs as he shakes against you and it kills you that the only thing you have the strength to do is run a hand through his hair. you want to kiss him, to tell him that it's okay and that there's nothing to cry about, that you're here and nothing will change that, but you're so very sore and barely in tact.

"don't do this shit again," he threatens weakly and you feel his tears seep through your hospital gown. "you had me so fuckin' worried, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, i can't believe you'd do this to me, do you know how much it sucked to be without you?"

"sorry, katsuki," you whisper and he looks up at you, glossy eyes and quivering lip.

"promise me you'll never do this again."

cupping his cheeks with your hands, there's a rush of deja vu as your thumbs catch his tears. "i don't know how realistic that promise is given that this is my job-"

"-your job is to save lives, not go crashin' into buildings, idiot."

you laugh gently, a stabbing pain making itself known in your gut when you do. your wince doesn't go unnoticed by bakugou, who knows you better than the back of his hand and his heart lurches at the slightest evidence that you're in pain. "still, i won't make promises i can't keep, you know how our jobs are, katsuki."

he frowns, furrowing his brows. "then i'll promise to always be there for you. don't go where i can't."

"that's not realistic."

"watch me."

"okay then, deal."

there are questions you still want answers to, but for now, you'll let the blond continue crying with his ear pressed against your chest.

(you won't ever know about the few days bakugou has spent in your hospital ward, absolutely miserable as he looks upon your gaze with anticipation. he hates how helpless he is, that he can't do anything to rid of this horrible feeling in his chest but wait for you to wake up. he hates that he can't any semblance of peace, he hates the man that love has made him, but most importantly, he hates being without you.

you won't ever know the struggle it was to get bakugou out of your room for even just an hour. midoriya and kirishima had to wrestle him in hopes of getting some proper food together, and yaomomo and todoroki had to literally block the door with various items to prevent his entrance.

you won't ever know how alienated bakugou felt, unable to face your shared home without you in it. without your music playing, without your shoes messily thrown at the genkan, without your comforting presence to return to when all is said and done, there isn't much of a home for bakugou.

you won't ever know how desperately bakugou clung to your hand, fiddling with it whenever he needed a safe haven.

you won't ever know the amount of tears the blond had shed by your side, hunched over your bed, with nothing and no one to comfort him but the sound of the heartbeat monitor.)

the third time, you cry too.

it's your wedding day.

when the news first came out, japan practically roared with excitement and anticipation for the special day that their two favourite heroes would wed. the enthusiasm has not dimmed down even months later, and now, as you're one door away from your lover, you feel it buzzing in your bones.

it all goes by in a blur. one second you're about to trip over yourself in nervousness and the next, you're walking down the aisle with a stunned bakugou failing to keep his composure at the altar. despite the amount of close friends and family around you, all you can see is the love of your life who looks at you with unmatched adoration and affection in those ruby irises of his.

up close, however, all you can see are the tears forming in his eyes, and his first sniffle takes everyone in the room by surprise. no doubt, this is their first and last time seeing their beloved hero cry.

more tears are shed and then, it's just waterworks from practically everyone in the room as bakugou breaks down even more.

thank goodness for a private wedding because you know he is never going to live it down if the press got their hands on this image.

a close friend of yours hands you a handkerchief and you wipe away bakugou's tears with a teasing smile, unable to keep your wobbly laughter at bay as your lover- japan's symbol of victory and heroism, turns to nothing but putty in your hands. he lets you treat him so delicately because you've seen him at his lowest, most shaken, and most unlovable, yet still decided to stay.

"sorry," he apologises as you dab at his tears, words reserved for you and you alone. "you're just so... divine. i can't believe i'm marryin' you."

you feel your first tear roll down your cheek and bakugou catches it before it can go too far, wiping it away.

"such an embarrassin' way to start our wedding," he grumbles.

"embarrassing for the both of us, but memorable no doubt," you try to reason.

"everything is memorable as long as i'm with you."

"such a sap," you whack his shoulder lightly. "have you been saving that line for today specifically?"

"you should wait til the vows. bet mine are better than yours."

"i didn't know you could be a poet."

"only for you."

"well then, i can't wait to find out what else you are, katsuki."

"i'll always be yours."

you laugh, "i'm glad to hear that 'cause i love you."

"i love you even more, i'm crying just to prove it."

"your tears are dangerous."

"yeah well, you're marryin' these tears so."

"like i said, i can't wait."

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[yuri-is-online]

Why So Rude? (Or Yuu's BF Asks Crewel for their Hand in Marriage and What Happens Next Will Shock You)

For legal reasons, this is a joke. I have been dealing with a health issue of sorts (i am not dying so no worrying ok? just v annoyed) so writing longer stuff is escaping me at the moment, enjoy some crack while I take a breather. More can be found on my masterlist here.

NO (FLOYD, Rook, and Malleus)

Crewel has been in denial about this "relationship" since it started. Not that his disapproval is really going to stop Floyd, but Crewel 100% refers to him as "Yuu's ex boyfriend" much to the confusion of... everyone who hears that. They do find some common ground in their shared interest in fashion, but Crewel has never forgiven him for his behavior in his class OR his "stealing" Yuu's heart.

Rook on the other hand he didn't have too much of an issue with until he realized just how familiar he seemed to be with his home for someone who had supposedly only been there to visit you. The twenty page letter he wrote to confess his feelings to you didn't help either once he saw the few lines where Rook wrote about the beauty of your finger prints, but he knows his disapproval means very little to someone as obsessed with romance as Rook.

Malleus... is the King of a country genuinely hostile to humans and Crewel thinks he is a little too obsessed with Yuu for his own good. He is also not a fan of how condescending Malleus is towards his disapproval, but it's an issue that will be worked out eventually. They are fighting out of love for the same person, your safety and happiness is all they really care about at the end of the day.

No, but as a joke (Sebek and Jack)

I don't think he has anything against him really, he just wants to see how important tradition and the opinion of his elders actually is to him. When Sebek begins to plead his case because he does not wish to put a wedge between Yuu and their father figure, but cannot deny his feelings for Yuu Crewel's more than happy to "change his mind." He knows you will be happy and well looked after.

Jack is a solid partner, and he is a wolf beastman who speaks of Yuu as his soulmate, his one and only, his eternal life partner and- well. Crewel just can't resist a bit of teasing, he's always been so serious and easy to fluster about these sort of things. The sheepish look on his face when he realizes Crewel has been teasing him makes it very worth it.

I can't stop you can I... (Leona, Kalim, and Rollo)

While Crewel has faith that Leona has what it takes to save his home- he lives in the Sunset Savannah. That is really far away from the Queendom of Roses ( ; ω ; ) have some pity on your poor father he can't travel that far all the time it's bad for his skin. The pressures of being the partner of royalty is something he worries over, but a smug promise from Leona to protect you soothes his worries somewhat.

The flippant way Kalim talks about the assassination attempts is not the way Crewel wants to hear about attempts on your life or heaven forbid your death. Kalim is very sympathetic to this, he has no real argument against how ignorant he was in the past, but he isn't a child anymore. Just filled with a childlike love for the world and determination to make it better. It is hard to say no to that.

Rollo is too much like Trein. His request for your hand in marriage feels like something that the old man would cry tears of genuine joy over, so of course he hates it. Unfortunately he also knows how much this teen grandfather matters to you or whatever so the answer will be yes. At least he has an excuse to visit Fleur City more now.

Give me one good reason. (Azul, Jade, Idia, and Lilia)

Azul was such a good student that he should have zero complaints that you started dating. But he also isn't blind and dislikes being pandered to, which is very much what Azul is doing here. He does wonder briefly if this is a cultural thing and he is being insensitive, but he is still exasperated enough to not immediately say yes. The strange twinkle that comes to Azul's eyes at the prospect of negotiations makes him wish he had though.

Speaking of not being blind, what does the Leech family do and is it legal? Survey says probably yes, but Crewel remembers dealing with Jade's parents while he was in school and has no desire to feed his child to the shar- err eels. Jade immediately begins to sniffle, oh how could Crewel say such bad things about him? A poor innocent eel and blah blah blah. If Jade wasn't such a good partner he'd be cooked.

Crewel understands and appreciates the effort Idia has put in to his personal growth and he has no desire to shit on that... but S.T.Y.X. and the secrecy around it is no joke. He wants to continue having a relationship with Yuu and as soon as Idia reassures him of that he has no more objections.

Lilia is an old man, a war criminal, and a father. Of course Crewel has seen how he was able to live as a student while at NRC but his own credit as a father would be under fire if he didn't object mildly. Lilia has some fun with it and has a bit more respect for him for objecting. So long as the eventual answer is yes.

Yes (Riddle, Trey, Cater, Ruggie, Jamil, and Epel)

While Crewel does have some red flag concerns concerning Riddle's mother, he has no real objections to Riddle himself. He is a perfect gentlemen and the correct amount of nervous to be asking the question. He gets full marks, as if there would ever be any other outcome.

Trey is that sort of solid option that parents really love, but he also has that tight personal relationship with Crewel from his Science Club days. He lives in the Queendom and is tight with his own family there are few better places for Yuu to be.

While Cater isn't Crewel's favorite student, he doesn't hate him or the Shaftlands. He is also not entirely unconvinced that him asking is for a magicam trend but! He has no real major objections. He is more than ready to have two kids, as soon as Cater is willing to admit he could use a stable father figure.

I don't think that Ruggie would even suggest marrige unless he's obtained that stable, high paying job he so baldy wants and has moved his Granny out of the slums. It's the perfect time to ask for permission to propose, and while the Savannah is still super far away (r.i.p. Crewel's skin) he is much more supportive of the two of you and how far you've come.

Similarly to Ruggie, I don't think Jamil would propose to Yuu unless his personal issues with Kalim and his position with the Asim's had been sorted. He wants to actually travel on his honeymoon, and Crewel is very willing to suggest the Queendom of Roses. Jamil's ego is absolutely stroked by how Crewel had zero objections but your adoptive dad doesn't get to see how smug it makes him, Jamil saves the smirks for when you say yes.

I think that Crewel seems to like all of the first years, and Epel is no exception. Sure, his request starts out well put together and polite but devolves into a dialect that leaves Crewel with no idea of what he's saying, but he has a general idea. Of course Epel has his blessing, Harveston sounds like a lovely place for Yuu to live their life in Twisted Wonderland and Epel a perfect person to keep them safe and happy.

He already planned the wedding (Ace, Deuce, Silver and Vil)

I know what you're saying. Crewel approving of Ace? Of course he does! He was in his homeroom class, and Crewel has a soft spot for trouble makers from the Queendom, he was one after all! Sure he might have had some problems with him when you first started dating, but now, when he is deathly serious saying he wants to spend the rest of his life with you? Crewel has been waiting for this since he fist saw carrot head yanking your chain.

Deuce is a much easier sell, Crewel was always a bit harsh on his intelligence, but only because he ran a tight ship and wanted him to reach for the stars. Well he has, and he has you to support him through it, Crewel is so proud of both. He and Dilla have absolutely been hypothetically planning this for years.

While Silver's curse did not endear him to Crewel for his first two years of schooling, he really grew on him when you started going out. He's glad that you've found someone who loves you as much as Silver does, really he is. Unfortunately this means he has to plan a wedding with Lilia, something they both have been doing since you started going out and never talked about. Don't worry! They only intend to fight a lot little bit.

The instant you started dating Vil Crewel entered his mother of the bride era. The permission asking was less Vil wanting to be polite and more him coming up with a way to distract him and convince him to focus on designing the clothes. Thankfully it works and no one other than his dogs have to know just how insane the prospect of his two favorite students marrying made him.

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

Hello, Can I resquest, Transformers One, Yandere Sentinel Prime with a cybertronian reader conjux HCS

Oooh Sentinel Prime - lowkey, I believed I was gonna hate his guts until my very last breath. But I forgot I like fucked up characters that also have babygirl tratis (I mean - I am obsessed with Starscream, I understimated myself).（〃｀ 3′〃）

Yandere!Sentinel Prime (TFO) w/ Conjux Cybertronian!Reader (HCs)

WARNING: Yandere behaviour, possessive and obsessive elements, manipulation, psychological and emotional abuse, forced relationship.

Sentinel Prime is definitely a manipulative, possessive yandere that is not afraid to punish his Conjux with psychological or emotional punishment types.

You were older than both Orion Pax and D-16, a miner too - a hard working one who was always kind and tried to remain positive to everything, even when the guards were kind of jerks and your teammates got hurt while working.

Sentinel met you one day he went down to the mines to just say empty words and promises that fooled enough his blind admirers to keep up working hard. The moment his optics met yours among the other miners... he felt like his spark vibrated.

Uh, how strange - he was sure he was definitely disgusted by any bot, no matter if they were femme, mechs or none, that were a miner.

But here he is, thinking about you and talking Airachnid's audials off about you.

Maybe now he understood what Megatronus said about feeling his spark sing whenever Solus Prime was by his side.

Sentinel Prime started to look after you, visiting you down in the mines and trying to woo you. And while you were quite flattered... something in your spark knew something was wrong. You didn't knew exactly what it was wrong - but everything pointed at Sentinel, one way or another.

You tried to be polite and paint an imaginary limit line between you and the false Prime - but Sentinel knew what you were doing. And he wasn't gonna have it.

"Hehe... oh, sweetspark - it's so funny how you think you can just reject my advances! You should be grateful I have my optics on you, dear! But... Oh, well, I wished we had an organic 'fall-in-love' story to later tell our sparklings! But you left me with no options."

You were... confused. And scared. But before you could even step back, you felt a painful kick in the back of your helm, soon everything going dark.

When your optics onlined, you were met with a... new faceplate.

"Oh, thanks Primus! My love, are you okay?" The unknown mech asks as he gently craddles your faceplate with his servos.

"Where... where am I? What...?" You start to ask, blinking a few times before tilting your helm, staring with curiosity at the mech. "Who are you?"

The mech seems to smile a little bit more to then change his expression one to sadness. "Oh, my sweetspark - you don't remember me?"

The mech - Sentinel Prime - gently held your servo as both of you walked among the big, luxurious hallways of his home, explaining to you how you both were soon to be Conjuxes, him being a Prime and you were part of the guards. While on a mission against the Quintessons, you got hurt and your T-cog got taken, you nearly died! But your beloved soon to be Conjux saved you!

You just... accept it. I mean, you didn't remember anything (but something felt like missing inside of your system). But you didn't mind, you felt safe and loved in Sentinel's hold.

If Sentine Prime was not around because of needing to attend important Prime business, Airachnid is always with you - and she became a sort of... guardian. One who always followed you and kept Sentinel updated about you.

Sentinel blatantly manipulates you whenever you show any type of doubt or consideration on what he says or does. "My sweetspark, please... I nearly lost you one time. And I felt like my spark was going to die. I cannot lose you again, please. I love you so much."

It always works - after all, you don't know exactly who you were once are. Sentinel Prime is everything you have.

"Without me - you are nothing."

A few days after having woken up from your forced induced stasis mode, both of you became the Conjux Endura of each other, everyone on Iacon saw the event and celebrated. Sentinel Prime held you closely, snuzzling his helm softly against the top of yours, keeping one arm wrapped your behind and his free servo holding yours.

And you smile, preciously painted and adorned. But... something still, deep inside of your spark, knows something is wrong. But whenever you see at Sentinel's smile, you can't help but smile back and ignore that uncertain sensation.

After all - You've always been meant to be Sentinel Prime's conjux.

Everything is okay.

(ﾉ*ФωФ)ﾉ Vhaos out!

[rick-rayson]

LUCY MACLEAN┊ DATING HCS

A/N: I'm back to feed my own obsessions hi hello beenaminit

NOTES: POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR THE FALLOUT SHOW!! Though I tried to keep it very ambiguous

┊BEFORE DATING:

Let's be honest Lucy probably fell first, whether you're a Vault Dweller or Wastelander it doesn't matter. Despite the privileges of the vaults, Vault 33 has hardwired Lucy's brain to freely feel and act on emotions with vigor.

Having been raised in a meritocracy, Lucy believes the best way to win your affections is through active illustrations of her skills, knowledge, and attentiveness. Very much an acts of service person.

And very, very bad flirting.

"You're really well learned in enacting violence!"

"You're so good at- um- shooting. People."

"How's it going?" She asks as she leans on a rusted mailbox.

It breaks and she falls over.

Just. Really bad.

You're likely aware that she fancies you before she even realizes. She's not good at hiding her expressions at all.

Not so subtly checking you out or admiring you whenever you just, exist, tbh

Despite it all, she won't make the first move to save her life. Tiptoeing on the line of what ifs and what isn't. You're going to have to take one for the team.

┊DATING:

She's actually a huge loser

Absolute girl failure

She's trying so hard though

Proximity is a must. If you're dating Lucy, you quickly become fundamental to her sense of peace.

At first it's a bit much, being in the wasteland kind of messes up her sense of boundaries a bit in a desperation to have you as much as possible.

You have to remind her flat out that it is not, in fact, the norm to follow your partner as they try to find a private place to pee.

She's a bit of a freak honestly.

SOMETHING is up with her but she's so much nicer and kinder than anyone on the surface that you don't mind much.

Uses terms of endearment but sparingly, mostly in private.

You could wake up and look like a feral ghoul and she'd still look at you with a big smile like, "Hey Doll/Hun. Sleep well?"

Craves softness and physical affection but feels as though she cannot have it. Everyone is quick to tell her what kind of person she needs to be on the surface so she's hesitant to express her affections sometimes.

But the more you show her that your touch is not meant to harm, but to love, she'll reciprocate.

Pretty touchy, subtle mostly, a hand on your back, a hand rubbing your arm, tracing your palm with her thumb.

When you two first started dating she very shyly asked if she could place her sleeping bag near yours, you could only laugh.

Whenever she scavenges food (or anything even slightly digestible) she's always offering it to you first.

Sometimes she just craves a really good make-out. She's good at repressing whatever bullshit the wasteland throws at her but she's not about to say no to a make-out session.

Whenever she finds cool knick-knacks she gifts them to you. Pins, random comic books

"I found another Grognak book-! Oh, oh wait, no, no we've already read this one :/"

hats. Lots of hats. Neat hats.

"Well don't you look dapper?" She grins as she places a sun hat on your head.

Honestly depends on you a bit. Though she's aware of the fact the surface is dangerous, it's a different thing to have to experience it.

Tells you all about Vault 33 and what her childhood was like over campfire. You learn very quickly why she is the way she is.

She can be an easy person to sway so she honestly needs you as her rock, her bad cop if you will.

Most nights she'll only sleep if you sleep first, watching over you for a bit before indulging in rest.

Kinda just stares at you a whole lot, but she means well.

Will always be the first to elect to take care of you, and gets a bit possessive in that respect.

Almost completely tackled Maximus to the floor when you got hurt and raced to use whatever she had on hand. She does not care if it's the last Stimpak they have, she WILL do anything to make sure you're okay.

She cares for you so deeply, as you're likely her first ever love.

She falls first, and she falls hard.

Always fixes up your clothes before heading out or patting down your garments, It's a post-apocalyptic wasteland, no one cares about appearances, but you know that Lucy does it to retain a sense of normalcy for herself.

A little thing that she's good at is being persuasive, it's a subtle thing, but Lucy is acutely aware that sometimes batting her eyelashes or giving a pretty please can get her to where she needs or what she wants.

She most definitely uses it on you.

And uh.. NSFW headcanons?

SHE'S A FREAK!

AN ABSOLUTE FREAKZOID!!

That is all. c:

[pasukiyo]

Hey! I really love your Riddle fics :)

Could we maybe get one where reader is in a relationship but has an attraction to Tom that she keeps under wraps? Like she tries to hide her crush on him but gets caught staring at him in class & etc- So he decides to do something about it.

It can be a little angsty too!

Hope it doesn't sound dumb, the idea just randomly came to me and I really like how you write for his character.

THIS CARNAL TETHER

tom riddle x f!ravenclaw!reader word count; 4,695 warnings; cheating!, fingering, smut! notes; vincent welch is not in canon, he is just an oc i made up for this particular fic! summary; you should've been over this crush years ago. but it's hard when tom riddle plagues your every thought and your boyfriend falls flat in the places you just knew tom wouldn't...

 All is quiet in the Ravenclaw common room, save for the scratching of her quill against her parchment and the fire crackling in the hearth in the room’s center. It’s well past curfew and many are already in bed, but she stays awake, lounging on one of the many sofas, her Charms homework in her lap. Moonlight spills into the common room through the many windows and her parchment is illuminated solely by the lamp at her side. 

 Sleep weighs heavily on her eyelids and she pauses her scribbling to dig her knuckles into them, mouth parting to make way for a yawn. She stretches out her weary muscles, rolling her neck around in her shoulders just as footsteps permeate the once silent common room and she blinks through her tired vision as Vincent Welch marches towards her, a scowl twisting his lips. 

 She raises an eyebrow as he plops down onto the space on the sofa beside her with a huff, lolling his head back until it hits the top of the seat. His eyes flutter closed and she grants him this small moment of peace until her curiosity can no longer be tamed. 

 “Is everything alright?” She asks and he sighs, threading his fingers through his locks of golden brown, pushing them away from his face. He doesn’t reply at first, but his lids peel back open and he locks his fingers over his stomach, blinking up at the stars glimmering on the ceiling. 

 “That damn Tom Riddle is going to be the death of me,” Vincent mutters, his clipped tone dripping with venom. She stiffens at the name and clears her throat, carefully placing her quill down onto the parchment in her lap. “Oh,” she simply says, casting her gaze down to the floor, unable to meet her boyfriend’s eye. 

 She can feel Vincent hastily move beside her and she wrings her hands together, willing the blood biting at her cheeks to dwindle. 

 “Ran into him earlier in the prefects’ bathroom and do you know what he said?” He asks and she presses her lips together, humming, prompting him to continue. “He thinks that I am not adequate enough to be a prefect. He thinks Dippet made a mistake in giving me the title,” Vincent scoffs and she can see the shaking of his head through her periphery. 

 Still, she does not yet turn to fully see him. 

 “I think the mistake Dippet made was making him Head Boy,” Vincent continues, leaning back into the sofa again. “It certainly didn’t aid in reducing his ego, don’t you agree?”

 She tries, really tries, to not let visions, even thoughts of Tom Riddle into her head, especially not with Vincent sitting right beside her. It’s entirely inappropriate, as well as it is unethical to think of another man when already committed to another. 

 And yet, she still cannot help the way her heart skips a beat when she thinks of the Head Boy like she’s a silly little first-year again, giddy and enthralled with her first crush. She’s crossed this bridge many times before but still, she teeters in the middle because no matter how hard she tries to continue pushing forward, to finally forget Tom once and for all, there’s still a part of her that desires to look back, to run back, even. 

 And how foolish this crush has made her, since Tom never so much as acknowledges her. In all her seven years at Hogwarts, she could only picture a handful of times where Tom has so much as glanced her way, and still, she finds herself plagued by wicked thoughts of betraying Vincent, of sullying whatever reputation she may or may not have had to indulge herself in these fantasies. 

 She feels sweat collect on her hairline and suddenly, everything is too much. The fire crackling in the hearth is too much, the velvet cushions of the sofa is too much, Vincent’s presence at her side is too much, these nefarious thoughts of Tom Riddle are too much, and all she really longs for is her bed, for sleep to overcome her so that she may escape her own mind for even just a moment. 

 She suddenly rises from her seat, clumsily hugging her parchment to her chest and Vincent stares up at her curiously, a hint of concern in the mossy green of his eyes. “Are you alright?” He asks and she notices his hand rise, reaching for hers and she moves away, albeit non-discreetly. 

 “I’m going to bed,” she announces and she has to swallow the lump in her throat, taking in a deep breath. “Sorry, I’m just… feeling really tired,” she murmurs, which isn’t exactly a lie. “I’ve been working on this for a while, I think it’s starting to make my head ache a bit,” she adds, breathing an awkward laugh. 

 Vincent blinks, his lips twisting in pity and he reaches for her hand again, grabbing it before she’s able to step away again. Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t think he notices as he stands, leaning in to press a chaste peck to her lips. 

 “I hope you didn’t stay up for me,” he mutters, a guilty look creeping upon his face as his thumb soothes over the back of her hand. 

 She didn’t, but she appreciates that sentiment all the same. 

 She nods and forces a tight-lipped grin, ineptly pulling away from him and backing away. 

 “No, no, I just… well…” she trails off, cursing herself beneath her breath for being so ungraceful with her escape. “…well. Goodnight!”

 She hastily turns, making her way towards the staircase and not picking up her pace until she’s certain she’s out of his sight. 

 Needless to say, she’s still plagued with thoughts of Tom Riddle when she wakes the following morning. She feels awful for it and it even makes her feel sick to her stomach, so much that she skips breakfast altogether. She hurriedly scribbles down the rest of the answers to her Charms homework before she breaks for class, although the entire walk makes her feel even worse, considering this is a class she knows Tom Riddle will be in. 

 Her heart pounds against her chest as she climbs the steps down, leading to the Charms classroom. The majority of the class has already arrived, but she keeps her head ducked as she makes her way towards her seat, for she knows Tom Riddle is just on the other side of the room. Vincent sits next to her and he grins at her arrival, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek as he bids her good morning. 

 Her heart should flutter, her stomach should be doing somersaults, she should want to kiss him back. But her body was reacting to all the wrong reasons— because she could see Tom Riddle just from the top of her vision. Her heart should beat for Vincent, her stomach should do flips for Vincent, she should want to kiss Vincent. 

 The warmth in her cheeks should be for Vincent, but instead, they warm for the boy who does not care for her, for a boy who has never even blinked twice at her. 

 “Morning,” she replies, trying to smile but turning away before he realizes she’s not. The professor enters and she’s saved from further conversation with Vincent for the time being but still, she fights a battle to keep her eyes away from Tom. 

 She tries, she really does. But it’s so hard when she envisions the pinkness of his lips, the dark, inviting obsidian irises that seem to absorb the pupils in his eyes, the stony expression that seems to always be on his face, the one where his brows are knit and his jaw is set. It’s hard when she thinks of his hands and how his fingers look curled around his quill, how they move when he writes, how the veins on the back of them protrude when he stretches them a certain way. 

 Surely one look would not hurt, right?

 Just a swift glance, a fleet of the eyes, nothing more. Her gaze would not linger, only graze, and it would be for only the smallest of seconds, so nobody would notice. 

 Even as she tries rationalizing it, a small voice in the back of her mind protests, reminding her it is unwise, foolish even. She pushes the thought away and blinks up across the room to where Tom Riddle sits anyways, and she’s mesmerized. 

 He’s completely focused on the professor, transfixed on whatever lesson he was currently teaching (she hadn’t been paying attention, so she wouldn’t now.) His hands are just as she imagined them moments before— his fingers are wrapped around his quill, veins jutting from the skin on the back of his hand. 

 His lips are as pink as she remembers them, although they glisten now, as if he’d been swiping his tongue between them. And his eyes— they are as black as night, as bewitching as any spell in the book. She stares at them now and wonders how lost she might get in them, when—

 “Ahem.”

 She blinks herself out of her trance and finds that her professor now stands before her, a brow raised expectantly. 

 “Yes, Professor?” Her voice is small with embarrassment and the evidence comes in the form of blood biting her cheeks as she sinks down into her seat. “Your homework?” The professor asks and she clears her throat, dipping her chin as she rummages through her bag, fishing out the piece of parchment. “I apologize,” she says, handing over the scroll. The professor simply huffs, stalking away. 

 When he moves, she finds that Tom Riddle’s eyes are set on her, and those pink lips that were so tightly pressed in a firm, thin line before were now quirked to one side. His eyes, dark as they are, illuminate with something she can’t quite place— curiosity? Amusement? Humor?

 No matter the case, mortification seeps through her skin and she sinks further down into her seat. She feels Vincent lean into her shoulder, his breath fanning over her ear. 

 “Are you alright?” He asks in a whisper and she grumbles, pressing her lips together as she avoids looking across the room at Tom altogether. She settles on the wooden desktop before her and she reaches out to fiddle with the feather of her quill. “I’m fine,” she clips. “Just tired.”

 Vincent doesn’t attempt to question her further, more due to the fact that the professor was talking again rather than because of her behavior. She tries to still the beating of her heart as images of Tom looking at her flood her mind— it was driving her mental that she couldn’t quite decipher what that gleam in his eyes meant. 

 It was all she could ponder, and she was grateful that class ended before the professor had a chance to call her out again. 

 Vincent speaks beside her but she doesn’t hear a single thing he says as she swiftly gathers her things, tossing the strap of her bag over her shoulder, making her hasty exit. She cannot be in a room with Tom Riddle any longer— the mere presence of him had her acting foolish. 

 She makes a sharp right as soon as she leaves the classroom and begins her descent down the short staircase there, but she freezes where she stands almost as soon as she rounds the corner. 

 Tom Riddle lurks in the shadows of the staircase, arms crossed over his chest, back pressed to the wall. She presses her lips harder together to stifle any sounds that may emit as she turns, fully prepared to walk back up the stairs and find another route to her next class. 

 That is, until he speaks.

 Her name drips like oil from his lips and she feels like she’s been set ablaze. She’s never heard him say her name before, never even heard him fully acknowledge her before. It’s like a symphony and a cacophony to her ears all the same and she’s uncertain whether her heart skips beats out of fear or in delight. 

 Her mouth opens and closes and she feels stuck to the very ground she stands on as words try but inevitably fail to escape from her lips. She settles on shakily saying, “Tom,” feeling her very bones rattle as if just speaking his name caused some sort of internal earthquake. 

 Her arms drop to her sides and she brings her hands together to thread her fingers through one another. Tom stalks closer and the lingering fear in the back of her head that someone— that Vincent— could see them now has her shaking, but she’s incapable of moving. So, she allows him to draw near, even if it feels like with every step he takes, she comes closer to bursting. 

 “Is everything alright?” He asks, his voice dropping one sultry octave, and she thinks to herself if she had a galleon for every time someone has asked her the very question over the past twenty-four hours, she would be rich. 

 Her throat constricts around words she tries to speak and her mouth suddenly feels like a desert, so she settles on nodding her head in reply. Tom Riddle clicks his tongue as he finally comes close enough that he towers over her, like the moon in an eclipse. She tries to still the quivering of her jaw, but she’s certain her efforts come to no fruition, for those eyes as black as coal scour her face, the corners of his lips twitching in amusement. 

 “You seemed awfully distracted in class today,” he continues, speaking so matter-of-factly, she almost forgets she’s being interrogated. “It is unlike you, you know. To be so… sidetracked.”

 Her chest begins to rise and fall as she tries to will herself to breathe, and words muster on the tip of her tongue. This time, she finally speaks. 

 “Forgive me, Tom,” she says as steadily as she can manage. “But I fail to see how my performance in class today is any of your concern.”

 She’s just as surprised at herself as he is when she says it. His brows raise ever so slightly and she thinks: this could be her chance to escape, to rush down the last remaining steps and be rid of the nightmare. She makes her attempt to step away from him and she even manages to make it past him before a hand clasps around her wrist, his grip so tight, she’s nearly knocked to her bum. 

 “I don’t think that’s any way to speak to someone who is showing you concern,” he practically hisses, and his words feel like thorns slicing into her skin. “Or your superior, may I remind you.”

 She rolls her lips together and makes a feeble attempt to break away from his grip, but to no avail. “Forgive me, Tom,” she basically pleads, rounding her eyes in what she hopes is an expression soft enough, he’d spare some mercy on her. “I’m just… I’m just tired, is all.”

 “Tired?” He repeats and she nods. The corner of his lips curve, “yes, I suppose it must be exhausting trying not to think about me when your boyfriend is around, hm?”

 Weaves of horror thread through her cheeks like spider silk at the creeping realization that Tom Riddle knows she’s been staring at him, that she’s been plagued by thoughts of him. She isn’t sure how he knows of course, but at that moment, the answer didn’t matter. All she cares about now is fleeing, to find a moment alone where she can collect herself. 

 She breaks free from his grip at last and breaks down the rest of the stairs, turning the corner into the girls’ restroom, kneeling over to chase air back into her lungs once she’s alone. She feels impossibly hot, as if she were a volcano close to eruption. 

 After more than a few minutes have passed, she finally believes she can breathe, that she’s collected, that she’s calm, cool. She’s entirely late for Transfiguration, but Professor Dumbledore adores her; it shouldn’t be a problem if she’s a little tardy. She takes a deep breath as she approaches one of the bathroom mirrors, switching on the faucet and leaning over the sink, cupping water into her hands to splash them onto her cheeks. The cool water sends shivers slithering down her spine but it is refreshing— she feels better. 

 All that’s left to do now is leave and never run into Tom Riddle again. Simple. Easy. 

 She stands and wipes at her face with the sleeves of her robe, switching off the faucet and when she opens her eyes, she finds that she is no longer alone. 

 Tom Riddle stands behind her figure in the mirror and with a gasp, she turns, backing into the sink. She’s not sure whether to cry or run away or just let her desire take over her now, but what’s for certain is that all the work she made to calm herself has completely flown out the window. 

 “You’re so easy to read, you know,” he speaks as if they never stopped talking, slyly slithering back into conversation with great facility. Purely true snakelike fashion. “I always thought you Ravenclaws were supposed to be clever, but that boyfriend of yours is as dim as they come.”

 Tom stalks closer and again, she’s unable to move, left to simply watch as he caves in on her, his hands on either side of the sink she’s backed up into, caging her. In a matter of seconds, she’s whisked into his game of cat and mouse, prey and predator. The only problem is, she’s not sure if she wants to run. 

 Not when he’s so close she can smell him, that she can feel his breath on her face, his arms brush against hers, his legs subtly weaving their way between hers. 

 “How he cannot see that you do not desire him the way you desire this…” Either of their gazes drop to her lap as Tom’s fingers slither up her knee where her robe parts, the tips pushing her skirt up and up until his hand rests on the soft, pillowy flesh of her thigh. 

 Gooseflesh creeps down her arms, all the way down to her legs as she tries to comprehend that this is reality and she is not dreaming. Her bottom lip quivers and that irritating flutter in her heart is back, inspiring a tingle low in her belly. 

 “…how he cannot see that he’s not enough for you, that what you want is risk, is beyond me,” he whispers near her ear and his hand finds her center, a ghostly touch above her panties and she gasps, instinctively locking her fingers around his wrist. Her eyes find his and for a moment the world stills and there is no more Hogwarts, no more girls’ bathroom, no more classes and homework and professors, and no more Vincent. 

 Her world is solely Tom Riddle, a sea of oblivion she loses herself endlessly in. She’s sucked into his abyss and she is forever falling, forever damned to be lost in his void. But there is a rush that comes with being tethered to Tom Riddle in this twisted, carnal bind. There is a certain warmth that draws her in, that makes her feel at ease, like a moth to a flame. 

 She realizes that perhaps he is right. Being with Vincent was always too safe, too simple, too plain. Vincent is just too good, too docile, too nice. Tom Riddle may seem duteous on the outside, yes, but he is also authoritative, dominant. There’s something so appealing about risk, about danger. 

 Even just being here alone with Tom Riddle in the girls’ bathroom was more of a risk than Vincent ever even dreamed of taking. The faster the realization that she isn’t satisfied with Vincent creeps in, the more she realizes that Tom was even better than she initially imagined. The ache deep in her belly blossoms and she glances down to his lips before peering back up into that endless ocean of obsidian in his eyes. 

 “It seems that you’re only now coming to terms with what you want,” he speaks again and she swears his face is closer now to hers than it was before. She holds her breath, waiting for him to continue. “You see it now, don’t you? That you want this, that you’ve been craving this.”

 The hand on her underwear begins to move again and she exhales, gasping for breath as his fingertips reach the waistband, slowly inching beneath the fabric. His brows draw together and his fingertips halt just above her mound and it feels like her body is kicking, screaming for him to keep going. Her hips squirm but he holds them down with his free hand, never once breaking their gaze. 

 “I think I’d like to hear you say it,” he says, and her brows knit. She shakes her head, “what?” She sputters, trying to subtly rock her hips again but to no avail. His grip tightens on her flesh and she whimpers as he leans closer until their noses almost touch. His gaze darkens and suddenly, she’s under his trance, frozen by the crease between his brows. 

 “Say that you want me,” he whispers and his voice drips with derision, pulling her deeper into the murky waters of his black ocean, further into submission. “Then you can have what you so desire.”

 Fear stops her heart, but her libido resuscitates it. 

 Her mouth parts and she closes it again, recollecting herself before she tries again. 

 “I…” her voice is unsteady and she swallows, starting again. “…I want this. I want you, Tom.”

 Tom inhales sharply and for a moment, all is still again. She wonders if maybe he’s changed his mind, if he doesn’t actually want to do this, if the thought suddenly disgusts him, even. She feels so hot, like she could melt into a puddle of magma any moment now. She waits though, because how could she walk away now?

 The world is still one moment and it’s spinning out of control the next. 

 Tom Riddle’s lips crash into hers like lightning striking the earth and her ground rocks, but his hand finds the side of her neck and she’s stable again. Their tongues are in a war that Tom will eventually win, and when he does, she’s malleable. The hand partly inside her underwear sinks further down until the pads of his fingers trace a stripe from her nub to her core and back up, a relentless pattern that leaves her mind spinning. 

 She whimpers against his mouth as he finds her clit again, his fingers rubbing small, tight circles against it as if to vex her. She lolls her head back to the mirror as his mouth breaks away from hers to venture lower towards her neck. She pants as he finds a delicate patch of skin, suckling it between his teeth as he applies more pressure to her aching center. Her legs twitch and her knees begin to wobble, prompting Tom to use his unoccupied hand to lift her up onto the sink so that she now sits. 

 She yelps and clasps a hand over her mouth to suppress any louder noises that may emit when he sinks his teeth into her neck, pulling away to admire his work. His fingers swirl around her clit before trailing down to her sopping cunt, using his middle and forefinger to work her open with a scissoring motion. 

 Her eyelids flutter close and she’s seeing stars, much like the ones on the ceiling of the Ravenclaw common room. She imagines she is one of those stars, a little ball of gas that burns brighter and brighter with each pump of his fingers, each kiss his lips grace upon her skin. 

 Tom swirls his tongue over the tender mark on her neck, already bruising, no doubt. His mouth leaves trails of kisses all the way up her chin to her mouth again, his free hand making its way to the back of her head to fist a handful of her hair, and she opens her eyes again. She feels small beneath his gaze, but it’s not because of how he stares at her, it’s how he stares into her, like he’s a spider crawling into her mind, a vine twisting around her brain. 

 He’s got her completely under his control between his gaze and his fingers pumping inside of her and she’s never once been so utterly someone’s before until this moment. A line forms between her brows as he works a third finger into the mix and it feels like he’s practically digging her orgasm out of her. 

 She pants and reaches out for him, for anything on his body she can hold onto.  She settles for his elbow, the one on the same arm as the hand he has woven through her hair, her opposite hand falling to the side of the sink, her fingernails scratching the white surface. 

 “Tom, I’m…” she pants as he curls his fingers inside of her, using the pad of his thumb to circle her clit again. Her back is arching off of the mirror and somewhere in the back of her mind, she thanks Merlin that miraculously, nobody has walked into the bathroom yet. “…I’m going to… I’m…!”

 “Do it,” he encourages beside her ear, his breath like smoke on her skin. “Poor things’ been so neglected, hasn’t been fucked enough. You must’ve been waiting so long for me to come save you and give you an orgasm, hm?”

 She nods, feeling the salty bite of tears in her eyes. It’s all simply too much, being stuffed full of Tom’s fingers, his thumb on her clit, his fingers in her hair, his body so close to hers, his voice telling her such wicked things. To think that none of this would’ve happened if she hadn’t been caught staring at him earlier. That it took her dating someone whom Tom loathes such as Vincent to get her where she is now. 

 “Then do it,” he hisses again. “Come all over my fingers. Show me how neglected this poor cunt has been.”

 Such a dirty thing for him to say and yet, it’s exactly what she needs to send her over the edge. His fingers hook inside of her heat and her body spasms when she comes undone, her toes curling while her lips fall in a silent scream. Tom gathers her mouth to seal them in a kiss once more as she rides her orgasm out on his fingers, and she moans against his lips, allowing his tongue to swirl over hers. 

 It feels like she’s been falling forever, but Tom eventually pulls his fingers away, eyes spilling into hers as he brings them to his lips. She feels like she could have another orgasm just watching him taste her on his fingers. 

 She reaches forward to cup the back of his head, pulling his mouth down onto hers, tasting a mix of his spit and her cum on his lips. It’s all very obscene, but it makes it all the more gratifying all the same. 

 Tom eventually pulls away, his lips prettily pink and glistening with spit, and he backs away, dusting off his robes. She feels the crease form in her forehead as he begins making for the door and she tilts her head, mustering the energy to call after him. 

 “Where are you going?” She asks and he turns only to peer over his shoulder. She can see his raised eyebrow and she suddenly feels stupid for asking the question. “To class,” he replies and then, the corner of his mouth curls into a nefarious grin. It’s enough to even send shivers slithering down her spine— how wicked he looks, grinning like a devil with remnants of her release on his lips. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you and your boyfriend in Defense Against the Dark Arts later.”

a/n; whew. i'm honestly surprised i got this one done LMFAO. anyways, THIS REQUEST HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY INBOX FOR MOST LIKELY OVER A YEAR AND I'M SO SORRY TO THE ANON FOR TAKING SO LONG TO WRITE THIS 😭 i still hope that if you are reading, you enjoy it! i hope this is angsty enough 😭

anyways, i hope everyone who reads this enjoys it! i absolutely love writing for tom and this is the most fun i've had writing for him since probably wrapped around your finger and its sequel :)

🪄 if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! ��

TAGLIST

@your-nanas-house

@sallowsarchives

@michelle-26

@iamthejam

@lyis

[eladandan]

Jungwon as your boyfriend 

pairing Jungwon x reader! genre fluff warnings not proofread word count 0.7k

Jungwon lives by stealing your clothes. He loves that they have your smell, and he usually wears them whenever you are away from him. For him, it is like taking a piece of you in him. 

This man somehow knows everything about you, including your needs and wants. For example, whenever you go out, Jungwon knows he needs to bring a bottle of water and snacks because you get hungry or thirsty. He also probably knows you better than you do. You would go to a restaurant thinking of ordering something, and he would go and say something like: 

“ I know you won’t like it, I just know, TRUST ME”. 

You would not trust what he said at first, so you would order the dish. Jungwon knew he was right because of the funny face you made after taking the first bite. 

Jungwon has your go-to beverage memorized like the back of his hand.

He knows when you are running out of your favorite candies before you even notice, so he would go and buy them before you are left without candies.

Communication is KEY to him.

He will call you day and night just to see how you are and to catch up, even if you just saw each other an hour ago.

He will also text you the most random thing ever just so that he can talk to you. He will also spam you with random selfies throughout the day.

Jungwon would also answer you within 5 minutes after you sent a message. It does not matter if it is 3 am. He would somehow be awake. 

Something that he hates is arguing, so he always makes sure to express how he feels without hurting your feelings. He would also appreciate it whenever you give him feedback to improve both himself and the relationship. All this together makes arguments vague in your relationship + in the rare situation of a fight, he would not let you guys sleep if you are both angry at each other.

He has the most embarrassing picture of you as his wallpaper, and he would have a Polaroid of the two of you on his phone case. You would ask him MULTIPLE times to change his wallpaper, but he would decline each time simply because he does not think you look bad, he thinks you look so adorable + he likes to annoy you with that picture.

He is both into outdoor and indoor dates. He loves to cuddle with you and eat good food as much as he likes going out and spending time with you. 

Talking about dates… Jungwon is the most creative partner ever. He would take you to go and do some pottery, take dance lessons (ofc he would be your teacher), go to a dog café, etc. He would take you to the most unexpected places sometimes.

Jungwon is someone who does not come into play when it comes to your relationship.

He dates to marry and makes sure he dedicates enough time to you.

He probably has a calendar with days marked as “Y/N’S DAY!!!”. He just loves to make you feel loved and seen. He also probably has a dedicated part of the day for you because he always says he has to take a daily dose of you. Otherwise, he will die of a broken heart. 

Jungwon is not a fan of pet names. He would call you rat face or something really stupid, and he would probably have your number saved as “my little dumb dumb <3”. 

He loves taking care of you. If you arrive home late and tired, he prepares a hot bath for you to relax as well as hot tea, and if you cannot even remove your makeup, he cleans your face with makeup remover wipes. Also, if you had a busy week, he would book and pay for a spa appointment, even if you did not ask for one. 

He is playful and goofy as well. While walking, he will try to make you fall by sticking his foot between your legs. He also likes to make you trip by making your knees bend, and just after, he will run away so you don’t take revenge by pocking his dimple.

Dating Jungwon is like dating your best friend because he would be your best friend!

Author's note: Heyyyy guys!! I know I have been missing for like a year or something 😭 but this year was HARD. I promise I read all of your requests and I will try to write them as soon as possible. By the way, this was requested by two anonymous readers, and with that said I hope y’all enjoy this post <333. Take care my loves and do not forget to eat your meals and stay hydrated! Feel free to dm me for any request and comment, like, or repost if you enjoyed it!

-Love Ela

[devildomwriter]

A Christmas Song They Absolutely Hate

A request by an anon

Lucifer (That damn chipmunk song)

Enough said, he cannot tolerate it at all, the second he hears those squeaky voices he’ll react somewhat violently. Whatever he needs to do to get that music to stop the fastest, he will do, even launching Mammon into the speaker.

Mammon (Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer)

He hates the song. He’s not so big an idiot that he doesn’t realize everyone only suddenly likes Rudolph because they think he’s useful, he thinks it’s a bad song and the reindeer are big jerks.

Leviathan (Baby, it’s cold outside)

“Those fucking normies. They’re just all over each other, go to hell.”

Satan (God rest ye merry gentlemen.)

They literally diss him in the song, like what’d he do to those guys personally, it makes him very angry to hear carolers singing it especially.

Innocent Carolers: “To save us all from Satan’s power—“

Satan: *yelling from across the street* “I didn’t do anything to you!”

Asmodeus (That damn chipmunk song)

Like normally squeaky or soft voices are kinda cute but nuh-uh, not this one. It feels like nails on a chalkboard to him.

Beelzebub (Believe)

He doesn’t really care but the song Believe makes him kinda sad.

It’s a great song with a bittersweet message and it makes him tear up a little when he hears it so he’s come to not like it much.

Belphegor (Anything hard to fall asleep to)

It doesn’t matter the song, if it’s too uppitty he can’t fall asleep. Even Christmas gospel can send him to sleep but not something like All I Want For Christmas is You.

Solomon (That damn chipmunk song)

It needs no introduction. It’s a song he’d hoped would die out soon after its release but it’s been well over a decade and occasionally he hears it playing and sighs deeply at how disappointing human musical taste has become.

Thirteen (That damn chipmunk song)

She hates it and will only occasionally tolerate it by playing it whenever Solomon is nearby in hopes of seeing his face fall.

Simeon (Santa baby)

The song really drives him nuts, he doesn’t have a real reason he just really dislikes it. Maybe it’s the greed at Christmas time which isn’t even about gifts, but it just really irks him.

Luke

He loves them all, except super romantic ones because that’s not what Christmas is about!

Raphael (All I want for Christmas is you)

That’s not the point of Christmas at all and the song mentions nothing about the true meaning of Christmas everything about some random romantic interest really irritates him. He’s not above spearing the sound system if the song isn’t changed.

Michael (12 days of Christmas)

It's just so long and repetitive.

He’d rather listen to shorter songs than one that just doesn’t seem to end, like get to the next song already, turtledoves aren’t even an existing species anymore—don’t remind him of such a tragedy.

Mephistopheles (Basically all of them)

Mephistopheles isn’t a Christmas demon, he only tolerates it for Diavolo’s sake but he’ll be damned if a song plays around him and Diavolo isn’t there. He’ll contact whoever he needs to to change the music immediately.

Barbatos (Dominic the donkey)

He hates it because he believes it’s rather stupid but also because it cracks Diavolo up so Diavolo plays it a few times a day to amuse himself and Barb is really sick of hearing it.

Diavolo

He loves all of them, even the damn chipmunk song. Even the Christmas gospel doesn’t really bother him but he doesn’t pay as much attention to it as he does humming along to the other songs. He does laugh when he hears Satan’s name in God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, so he actually likes that one.

[hoss-bonaventure]

i want to expand on this post just cause i can.

so much of gus and jesse’s relationship is played as an affair. this is only because it makes walt’s anger about their dynamic feel more jilted, like a lover. when he confronts jesse about the two of them having dinner he uses language an excusatory husband would use if he caught his spouse cheating such as “tell me you weren’t as his house last night?” it’s very clearly written as jesse being disloyal to walt and their partnership. now the audience knows that’s just simply not true with jesse literally saying “if you kill mr. white, you’re going to have to kill me too” when he thinks gus is suggesting killing him. he’s devoted to mr. white throughly. even when he’s being shoved into these new situations by mike and gus, there’s never a moment where he thinks about abandoning him. he’s still in the back of his mind through everything, and every character knows this except for walt. that’s what makes most of the build-up leading to gus’s death so ironic. to walt, gus is the other woman who needs to be killed for fraternizing with what’s “his”. in reality, it’s his own brutality and sadistic behavior that is putting a wedge between him and jesse. 

it’s very reminiscent of walt finding out about skyler’s affair with ted. he lashes out and throws a tantrum but he never stops for a second and asks why it happened. he never comes to the conclusion that his actions are what’s driving skyler into another’s arms. he plots to get revenge on ted, but it’s never more serious than toxic masculine how-dare-you-sleep-with-my-wife bullshit. he wants to kill him, i don’t doubt that, but he can’t. how can he? killing, torturing, and all that depravity belongs in the “heisenberg” part of his life. he cannot touch ted because he is as mundane as the life he is fronting. 

now, i will admit, the skyler affair storyline and jesse’s so-called adultery are really not that similar at all. like i said, jesse is not betraying anyone--he is still fiercely dedicated to mr. white. his unfaithfulness is only interpreted as much by walt himself, and it’s walt’s delusions drive him away in the first place. skyler cheats as a means of revenge, as a way to take back some autonomy that walt had stripped her of. however, it’s the way that walt handles these individual perfidies that’s so captivating to me. when deciding what to do with gus, he immediately decides he needs to kill him. this was his plan prior, but now it’s more dire. jesse is gone. he needs to kill two birds with one stone: win back jesse and kill gus. more importantly, he needs to show jesse that him killing gus was something he did for the both of them. so thus he embarks on this convoluted, deplorable, fucked-up scheme. and hey! it works. he successfully manipulates jesse once again, implanting in his brain that no one will have your best interests at heart but me. “gus had to go” and jesse has to agree because this pseudo-son is dying and mr. white is right there and he saved him right? he saved brock and he saved jesse and it doesn’t matter that their love has a body count. their reunion is so impactful because they’re like magnets in a way. the connection they share is so strong that it doesn’t matter how hard they fight or run away, they will cling to each other once more. but what’s devastating this time around is that jesse doesn’t have a leg to stand on with mr. white anymore. he almost fucking killed him and it turns out the “real” mastermind was gus all along. so he offers his submission as an apology, when mr. white holds out his hand he takes it because this is how he can say he’s sorry. and walt? how could he not fall in love all over again. he has jesse, freshly martyred and in his arms once again. 

[noire999]

Cuddle with me?

•°. *࿐ nanami x reader •°. *࿐

•°. *࿐ cw. non-curse AU, 18+, MDNI, cockwarming, praise kink, daddy kink, breeding kink, vaginal sex

I will post toji's ver. soon!

Toji's!

"kentooo" you call out to him pouting while he's still working at his desk. It's late at night now and he is still working. Despite what he says that he dislikes working overtime, he can't help but do it since he's the CEO of the company.

"yes, my love?" he asks you while he's typing something on his laptop. You lightly lean on his desk on his side which makes him turn to you looking at him pouting. "you said you would cuddle with me..." Ah. He must've forgotten about that. It's already late and it's been more than two hours since he's sat in his home office.

It hasn't been 15 minutes already and yet he can feel you squirming on his lap so much. "stop squirming." He says this as he wraps his arm around your waist. " 'm sorry, Kento, 'jus want you so bad." You look up at him with those doe eyes that he finds it hard to resist. You give him pepper kisses all over his face as you continue to grind on his clothed cock.

"Fuck, baby. I'm not getting any work done at this rate."

"Please daddy? Please pleaseee?"

"How about I just cockwarm you daddy??" He doesn't have to think about it since you were going to do it anyways no matter what he says. His baby girl always gets what she wants.

"Alright, but you better behave so I can finish this quickly." He kisses you deeply feeling his warm tongue on yours as you unzip his pants, rubbing your pussy on his hard-on, he takes it you didn't wear any panties and already assuming you would do this to him.

"Kentooo~" You moan his name as you slide his cock into your warm pussy. You take your time to fully adjust to his size until it reaches the hilt. He can feel you pulsating on his big cock, wanting to move but you dare not to. You want to be a good girl for him, you want him to praise you. "fuck...so good baby...just like that." He pecks your cheeks, as you struggle not to move right now.

You don't know how many minutes have passed already. Your brain is mushy as you lay your head back at his shoulder from the feeling of cockwarming him. You just feel yourself cumming if he fucks you right now. He saves the last document annnd he's done. He shuts down his laptop and puts all his materials to the side.

He immediately places you on the table, and fucks your needy pussy. He lets out a groan and feels you tighten around him. He fucks you hard from behind as you feel his breath against your ear. "Such a good girl for daddy. Letting him cockwarm your pretty pussy for him to fuck you hard." You whine. You feel him pull your hair and you pulsate on his cock. He feels this and decides to tease you. "You like that baby? You like it when I get a little rough on you? Is that it, baby girl?"

Your eyes are rolled back into your head. He fucking you like he's releasing all the stress he had for the whole day. And you cannot form any words right now. Only the 'yes...daddy...', 'fuckkk!' and your moans fill up the room. "Baby girl, decided to cockwarm daddy to release his stress, huh?" He says this as he gives your ass a slap. He feels clenching on his cock as you nod dumbly. "Shit. Baby girl, you're so good to me. Gonna cum inside you now, okay?"

"please please please!!! I want daddy's cum!! Wanna feel daddy's cum inside me!"

oh so now you can suddenly talk. begging for his cum. begging for him to fill you up. You arch your back and he can feel you cumming already on his cock, milking him. "F-fuck!" Not a second later, he cums deeply inside you so you won't waste a drop of his cum. He stays like that for a while just how you always like it. And both of you sit on his office chair with you on his lap. You feel yourself calming down and him caressing your lower belly.

"Kento?" You look at him with those same doe eyes he fell in love with.

"Yes darling?"

"I love you so much, Kento." You smile at him and kisses his lips.

"I love you too, my dear." ♡

[eddiestightywhities]

100% in the Buddie Team Switch tent over here btw bc these bastards are honestly just far too complex to ever be anything else imo. like Buck with his praise kink, all somebody please tell me i did good as i wasn't told this growing up by the people who were supposed to say it to me and it changed my brain chemistry by denying me of positive affirmations and molded me into a pliable thing that cannot help but take any shape others want me to so i just need need need you to please please tell me that i did good and that i am good and please will you help me to believe that i am as good as you're telling me i am by holding me down and forcing me to take all of you into all of me until I'm fucking convulsing with just how good it feels and how good i am at it, and bc i now know for sure how much you love it too as you're saying it out loud to me, over and over and over again... and Eddie, with absolutely everything in his life (outside of work) feeling so very out of his control and needing to gain some of it back by crushing Buck with his body weight and telling Buck exactly what it is he should be doing and precisely how to do it and have Buck whining and keening with how desperate he is to comply bc Buck has complete trust in Eddie, in Eddie's ability to make the right decision for whatever it is Buck needs, for what they both need, and having that allows Eddie to have the courage in his convictions that he often struggles to have outside of the(ir) bedroom when it comes to his emotions and that just feels so good to Eddie, to be doing it right, to be the one making Buck feel good, so good, and to actually be taking—for once in his life—what it is that he wants and allowing himself to have the things he desires, to have Buck, all for himself, because that is what feels good to him... but then there are those other times in Eddie's life that he has had to and has to be a sure and steady hand, a reliable go-to, be totally unshakeable and unbreakable and in charge of making decisions that affect countless people's lives—victims of war, those he tries his best to serve and save on calls, colleagues, friends, the people he cares for and those he loves the most in his life—and it's, well. it's A Lot. so much, actually, that Eddie sometimes needs to turn it off and just let it all go and allow somebody else take over and tell him what to do and when to do it bc he just needs to not think about it anymore, to not think at all, needs to just be a vessel for somebody else's decisions and desires and put his trust wholly in somebody else, in Buck, bc he doesn't always trust himself but Buck knows Eddie so well and so completely and understands what Eddie needs to get out of his own head and just have somebody tell him (outside of his job) that he did good for once, that he can get matters of the heart right instead of always wrong wrong wrong and have Buck tell him that yes, of course he's good for something, good for this, good for splaying himself wide open and taking everything he is given by Buck... and then there's the whole Buck (outside of work) having zero fucking clue of what he's doing and even tho he is trying his very best all of the time he's getting it wrong A Lot of the time, bc his best isn't always good enough so he has to try harder but then he's trying too hard, too much, which means he still isn't getting it right. and so to be able to be the one in charge of things and have his will and instruction be absolutely the right thing? the very thing that Eddie needs? that's such a heady experience, such a rush, and when he makes Eddie beg and cry with it and Eddie loves loves loves Buck for it—loves Buck for telling him how it should be and for Buck insisting on what he's giving being what Eddie deserves—that is Buck living and thriving and loving loving loving Eddie right back, with all the plundering depth that he has in him and can give and is... and that, all of that, is just. how it is. every facet of it; every logistic; every angle; every way and any way you look at it; every (s)which way.

[utilitycaster]

if you're up to elaborating, i would love to hear more about your complicated feelings on Taliesin's reads of this campaign, because that's something that's been itching my brain but I'd been having a hard time pinpointing why and I'm interested to hear your thoughts!

So I think it's best summarized in part as a combination of what was said in this post I just reblogged and these tags from @kerosene-in-a-blender on this post:

#yeeeaaaahhhh#ngl it seems like the characters and parts of the cast got so caught up in the potential moral dilemma of interventionist gods#that they forgot the gods of exandria aren't particularly interventionist#critical role#critical role spoilers#cr spoilers

Ashton feels like they learned something about their own arrogance and assumptions with Shardgate...and then it just vanished. And the fact that Taliesin genuinely read that as what was supposed to happen when like 3-4 authority figures, some of whom (Allura) have existed since Campaign 1 as People To Listen To had said "This is a bad idea" in plain language does give me pause because like...with all due respect, I get why Ashton would do this anyway! But come on, man, how do you hear that and not go "oh maybe it's a bad idea."

I don't want to read in too much to cooldown and 4SD either but I really do just feel that like...some of the cast, and Taliesin isn't alone in this but definitely seems to be using it the most in-game, have come under the impression that the purpose of this campaign is specifically to upend everything we knew...but that idea is just an assumption that is not supported, and as I've said repeatedly, there is no situation in which the world is not drastically changed - there's going to be either a hostile alien invasion, or a friendly alien migration, but either one will be monumental within Exandrian history, and that's not counting the establishment of the Accord/the collapse of local institutions in both the Dwendalian Empire and Bassuras/ If one cannot see any possibility for vast change within the world other than killing/driving out the gods, I don't know how to address this nicely. This is an uncreative and stupid position that I can't engage with because it's so stupid. It's like saying World War II didn't change anything in our world because at the end of it the US and USSR both still existed largely intact. So the over-focus on only one means of change in a way that feels based on an interpretation of this campaign's purpose that isn't even stated anywhere is telling and deeply frustrating.

As the second post indicates, it feels like some of the cast, Taliesin especially, got caught up in a theological argument of divine intervention that personally I had a great time debating in Hebrew school when I was 13, but is not ultimately true in Exandria (or reality, for that matter). On some level it's like maybe read some Harold Kushner and you'll calm down; it feels like you're arguing against like, some very real religious tenets (that are not exclusively Christian for once) but in a story where that's not actually a problem.

I'd throw in that Bells Hells sit in this awkward place of not being nobodies (or Nobodies) anymore but many are still acting like it and Ashton is at the forefront. Indeed, look at the name "the Nobodies." The problem is that Ashton is a Somebody now. He's not like, the ruler of a city, or an ancient dragon, or a god. But they're someone who has the personal raw power and the connections to survive an ill-considered second shard absorption. They're someone who is easily going to survive a fall out of a window, and who can't be bound into service. They are someone who has been entrusted by the world to assist in saving it, and they're too fixated on the gods not personally saving them to consider the vast potential harm to others, and I think it's not inherently out of callousness but rather that they've rather abruptly risen from "orphan criminal who expected to be dead by 30" to "guy tasked to save the world" but they have no option but to rise to the occasion, as the Raven Queen said. To change the world, he must change himself, and I feel like Taliesin, who often enjoys the idea of characters who don't change, is perhaps too wed to that concept for this particular narrative. And, for what it's worth: I've said it before that my personal preference is to keep the gods in place...but I would genuinely be MILES happier with a party that decisively had decided to kill the gods. I would not agree with their decision, but anything is better than this indecision. And since Ashton is pretty staunchly in favor of killing the gods and the rest of the party is varying degrees of strongly against (Orym, Braius), weakly against (Chetney, Fearne, Imogen, increasingly Laudna) and unsure but worried specifically about the mortal impact (Dorian) at some point it's like. Either say "I don't like this, but this is the party's plan" or leave. The decisiveness matters on an individual level too; because Bells Hells does not have good internal methods of resolving conflict for reasons stated above and below, at some point it's like. You have to give it up because no one will make you. If Ashton genuinely cannot or will not yield on this, either commit to betraying the party (totally valid, could be a great story) or have them leave; if Ashton does trust the party, have them reluctantly give in. A party-wide choice must be made and fast. The party is aimless because they are all pulling in different directions and it all cancels out, but Ashton is definitely contributing extensively to that agonizing stasis.

I suppose I should wrap up with what I've been saying a lot but should probably go on this post which is that a lot of the flaws in this campaign are not any singular person's fault. I really do feel like they began with the fact that Matt was clearly building to this specific story, and Bells Hells were not a party terribly suited to it in the first place and then were given an earlier narrative that, because it was heavily on rails to get them to the solstice setpiece, failed to give them the tools to become people who would be prepared for this endgame. I think Matt really wanted the cast to make the decisions here, and did not have a specific decision in mind, and now they're all finding that they're playing characters who can't make that decision. It's a culmination of a lot of smaller out-of-game choices that have failed to gel into a coherent whole. When I say the Raven Queen was right, and if they are not ready for this, to go home, I don't think the party should be tpk-ed or anything, but yeah, if they can't decide what to do when they are essentially tasked with killing the BBEG and diffusing the universe-shattering bomb, they should abdicate. I don't think a story in which the heroes fail is a bad one. I know Call of the Netherdeep has been a touchstone in the fandom throughout this campaign and there's one possible ending to that that's sort of unsatisfying, but the unsatisfying nature itself makes it an interesting story to me. I think this campaign ending with the party saying "we can't do this" is vanishingly unlikely, and complaints aside I think they will probably make a decision now but it all feels exceedingly doylist - Bells Hells are the characters the cast happens to be playing for this climactic final moment so I guess they will play those characters, and those characters will have to make a choice so that the final moment happens, but it doesn't feel terribly organic.

[seattledayone]

dina and caretaking

i think there’s a lot to be said for the situations we see dina in throughout tlou2 and how they tie into her backstory, as well as any potential guilt she may be carrying with her.

the first time we see her, she’s supervising a group of children. even though she’s not necessarily taking care of them, she’s still taken it upon herself to ensure their happiness and safety, and it seems like something she does often considering how ellie and jesse know exactly where to find her.

every time after that, she’s taking care of ellie (or, later on, jesse). she’s not a pushover by any means, but she allows ellie to take charge and is always there when the other woman comes back to her with cuts and bruises and bucketloads of trauma to sport. even when she starts to suspect she’s pregnant, she doesn’t say anything in favor of letting ellie finish her mission and keeping her the focus of the trip. when ellie returns from killing nora, broken and beaten, dina doesn’t berate her; she immediately takes to getting her comfortable and as patched up as she can.

when jesse arrives, the first thing dina does is help him take care of his wounds, and she makes sure to check in on ellie and stitch her up too. at the farmhouse, she literally says “you think this is easy? for you and for him, i deal with it,” implying that she sets her grief aside in order to take care of the two most important people in her life.

in my opinion, this all ties back to talia.

talia used to be the one to take care of her, alongside their parents back when they moved from place to place. however, once talia fell into grief-stricken depression, it was dina’s “duty” to lead them to a safe place and keep talia alive.

and she failed.

talia still died. she still succumbed to the world around her, though we don’t know how. no matter what dina did, no matter how much or how little she let herself feel, she couldn’t keep her sister alive.

i think she sees a lot of talia in ellie, particularly at the farmhouse. in her eyes, she may have failed with jesse and failed with talia and failed, even, with herself, but she has an opportunity to right those “wrongs.” she has an opportunity to save ellie. maybe she thinks that the reason talia died is because she pushed her too hard to keep going despite her grief, and that’s why she’s so overly lenient with ellie for the longest time.

until she isn’t.

again, this is all just my opinion, but i think that when dina says “im not gonna do this again,” she is not only referencing waiting in anxious anticipation for ellie to return but also finally admitting to herself that she can’t save everyone. she can’t be waiting with open arms for the sick and dying and traumatized to be patched up and coddled until they run off and do something reckless again. she cannot be the healer. finally, she understands that it isn’t her shortcomings that bring about the deaths of those she loves.

even if she doesn’t understand that quite yet, she now has a baby. she can’t afford to put herself or him in a situation like that — or around people like that, purely out of protectiveness over her son and his view of the world.

she’s letting herself and her peace and safety come first, something that, up until now, we haven’t ever seen her do.

[f4g4um]

Butch Dragonwoman Smut

Here it is, a little late but I did prommy. 5.5k words of filth. POV uses cunt, cervix, tdick, etc. Terato, dragon-lizard dick liberties, excessive cum, breeding.

Heavy petting with your girlfriend is lovely. Her scales are cool to the touch under your hands, and smooth as you glide them along her broad shoulders. You are more than excited when she gets so hot and bothered you can make out her bulge clearly from the outside of her cargo shorts, straining against the zipper.

Normally her bulge is hidden under her skin, but she seems to be enjoying this enough to swell. And when you pull her waistband down slightly and sink to your knees you gulp at the sight, wide eyed and flushed, then look back up at her. She has two heads- a hemipene. She had mentioned something like this offhandedly, but the sight is so… different. She meets your gaze almost nervously, though cleary twitchy. “If this is too much for you, you dont have to. I get it might be hard with our anatomical di-“ she cuts herself off with a squeak that turns into a whimper when you brush a curious finger over the head of one of her cool cocks. her eyes are screwed shut and her lip is bitten at the featherlight stimulation of your touch, and you find yourself endeared by this.

Her cocks are gorgous. Of course they are- they belong to her. The allure of their shapes, unique in a way that you just know youll never get tired of, cannot be understated. They look alien, which is GREAT news for you. Around the crown of each tip her heads flare out slightly, and they only really seperate for the top 4 inches or so, leading down to a few inches of thick shaft. You're so absorbed in your investigation and thorough examination of her cock that you completely miss the way she's whimpering above you.

When you take an opportunity to look up at her to see how she is reacting, you see her way more worked up than you expected she would be from the few and simple touches. You can tell both that she clearly hasn't gotten enough yet with your teasing hands, and also that she really enjoyed this sort of attention. Being inspected like this must be nerve wracking for her. She looks so turned on she's on the verge of begging you for anything.

You grin, and wonder if you should save penetration for another day and just get her off once or twice, enough to exhaust her. On second thought, with how long and wide her cock is, it might take a bit to stretch you enough to fit it without pain. You know for sure that as is, if you started riding her like you were craving then her tips would slam your cervix and leave you aching for days, no matter how wind knocking, breath stealingly good the pleasure would be. You lick your lips. The first thing on the agenda was to make her feel good enough that she begs to see what your lower body can do.

You take your hands from her shaft and plant one firmly on her hip, thumb stroking the scales. The other goes to gather the pre pearling atop her heads, and as you do she jerks her hips up and whines at the unexpected touch. You smile, then just as abruptly you place your hand fully on her shaft. You can feel her shudder a bit beneath you, can watch as her abs tighten and release and her muscles spasm, and you give her until she lets out a deep sigh to start your rhythm up.

A steady pace of strong, indulgent strokes, broken up by small kisses or kitten licks here and there, and she was pliant, and panting, her voice keening and high pitched when she moans. Her hips were attempting to thrust forward or jerk back every so often, and every now and then you would even let her indulge, her hips snapping forward so your hand met her base, her tips hovering just infront of your face. You let her rut her cocks against your tongue, pressing it flat against each one in an alternating pattern and swirling it around each cock head happily, humming so the vibration would reach her shaft.

You weren't really expecting it, too lost in your own picture of the situation and the lust it created. You were focused on her moans, on her noises, and your brain was too out of it to register her pleading warning of “I’m gonna, fuck,” or her hushed and whisper keened pleading of “god, pleasepleaseplease I’m so close, just a little more,” until her cum hit you straight on the cheek. It made you take pause, hand frozen where it rested along her cocks, able to feel every little pulse and every little jerk, feeling the cum travel up her shaft like one feels someone swallow when they put a hand against the neck. You were so mesmerized, and she was still blissed out, so you stood and took the first and second and third large loads that spurted from her tips. As you started to come back you noticed just how much cum she had. Her two heads gave 2 or three thick loads, each the same amount, and only then did the amount of cum start to decrease.

Even then though, spurt after spurt kept coming, hot load following hot load, leaking in an almost mesmerizing fashion. You of course, upon noticing how long her orgasm was taking, took it upon yourself to help her out a bit more. Your hand began its stroking again and with it she threw her head back and let out a wanton moan that you most definitely wanted to keep hearing. Her cock jerked in your hand and fired off another hot load with more force than some of the earlier ones, and you figured if you could, you might as well milk her.

Her moans were keening and whining and her hands were clutching at the fabric like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to the world, and gradually her loads became less pronounced, turning into a steady weeping from her cock, interspaced with jerks like her cock was trying to give more even if it didn't have it.

Her moans were still just as deseprate and keening, her body tensing and shaking then jerking each time her cock did, and fuck if that didnt make you horny. Her hands came down, weakly trying to bat yours away, but you just took it in your own and held it before increasing the pace of your strokes, her moaning now following her exhales, your pace setting both.

Then a minute or less later you felt her entire body tense up then start to shake, her panting growing loader and needier and her moans becoming softer, before her cock gave one last jerk upwards, trying so hard to give you anything it had left. With this her moans came back full force while you slowed your pace and loosened your grip before stopping eventually and putting your hands away, just watching as she caught up to herself.

A few minutes later and she seemed to be partially recovered, and you laugh when she sees how much cum ended up on you. you stand then kiss her forehead, asking how it was, and she lets out a sigh and says “Best I've ever had, thank you,” and you giggle and tell her that you'll be in the shower, making your way to the bathroom while thinking about nothing but her beneath you.

You strip and turn on the shower, thoughts still trained on the idea of her, cunt slick when your finger eventually dips below. You get into the shower, place an arm against the wall as the hot water hits your back, and start to stroke yourself. your moans start small and soft like chirps. You've never been very vocal, but had always had a certain thing for it when your partners were.

You don't notice the door cracking open or closing, or the woman behind the glass door of the shower until you let out a small whine and she knocks, startling you just a little bit and getting a small noise halfway between a squeak and a moan from your throat. She asks if she can join you and you quickly tell her she can, throwing the door open but ending up speechless at the sight of her, dual cocks hard again, maybe even harder than they were. She looks bashful, rubbing the back of her neck and not making eye contact, and you pull her in and start peppering her neck with kisses. she sighs and puts two broad hands on your waist, cock heads cold and tapping your stomach, refusing to be forgotten about.

She tells you it was cold in the bed, and that you made her cum so hard that she wanted to return the favor. You turn warm and red again at this, her eyes half lidded and licking her lips. You tell her she doesn't have to, but she insists she wants to, so you let her guide you this time.

She has you turn around and tells you she’s going to wash you, and to be fair it does just start out that way.

Kinda.

Her large broad hands, lathered in soap, trace your shoulders and your spine and back, then trace down to lower back, and when you're starting to get heavy lidded she wraps her arms around your middle and adjusts you so you are flush against her, able to feel her cocks against your back as she works. This fills you with a rush of arousal, suddenly becoming even more hyper aware of the sensation of her touch and letting out a small moan when those huge hands slide over your ribs and grab your chest, fondling you for a bit before slipping down further along your front. She soaps up the lines of your hips and her thumbs grace the skin that separates thigh and hip briefly before pulling away. Then she kneels behind your legs and begins massaging you while pressing small kisses to the backs of them.

She works her way up to your cunt and when she does she washes off her hands. At this point you are panting and eager, ready for any request she asks that will get you any stimulation. She spins you around so your front is to her then you watch as she slides down, crouching and putting her hands behind your thighs, then putting your thighs around her face. In leiu of explanation, she gives you a grin and tells you “Just cleaning you up babe,” before diving into your cunt like its her last fucking meal.

The way she has you held means you can't buck forward, so you just grab her horns and moan into your arm with your head thrown back. Her tongue slides up and down your already drenched slit, circling your tdick before trailing back down, tracing the spots that make your back arch away from the wall with the point of her tongue.

You writhe but feel your mind stop when you feel her thick, long tongue circling your entrance. You can feel what's coming but your brain doesn't have enough time to form any coherent thought about it before her tongue is deep in your cunt, curling and curving and thrusting in all the right ways. You knew she could use that tongue of hers, but you never thought she could use it like this. You are panting and whining, grabbing onto her horns desperately and trying pitifully to grind against her face or tighten your thighs or anything, while her strong grip on your legs keeps you stuck on her tongue, under the careful care of the woman who is wrecking you right now.

You start begging pretty quickly, already hot from the show she gave you earlier, so the whispered pleas for more, the small muffled curses, become unintelligible almost the moment the start. Her thrusts with her tongue are unrelenting, and she noticed when she hit the spot that made you gasp out and arch and hasn't stopped aiming for it every other thrust. What does you in is when she pulls her tongue from you, long and thick and god, so fucking good, and switches it out for her fingers, laving around your cunt for a while longer before latching onto your clit and sucking. You see stars, and you swear you nearly explode, still able to feel her fingers in their steady in and out, still able to feel the attention your clit is getting from her. You never really stop seeing stars for a bit, hysterical in pleasure and grinding your hips onto her 2 fingers that she has inside of you, but eventually you roll back to yourself already knowing you would need more.

Just from your look she can tell, and you two seperate to rinse off before rushing back to the bed. Her cock is already oozing pre when you grab the lube from the bedside drawer. You instruct her to warm it up on her fingers, and she asks you what you're going to do. You respond with exactly your plan, to ride her fingers until you think you can fit her cocks, and her eyes go wide and her cheeks flush. You feel her cock bob lightly, it hits your backside while you straddle her, and she eagerly holds out her hand for you, two fingers shimmering with lube.

You rise up so you stand on your knees, then pull her hand flush against your mound and have her fingers sink in all in one go. you let out a breath and let your head lull back slightly, closed eyes, and the hand on hers goes still for a moment before you hold it against your cunt, rubbing her palm against you trying to get friction on your clit with slow gyrating movements. She looks up at you seemingly mesmerized and you feel so hot.

You reach her hand that's pressed against your cunt, letting your fingers drag across your clit along the way, then pull her fingers out briefly to have her raise a third one. Her fingers are thick and strong, bumps from callouses providing that much more pleasure, and when you sink on them this time your head hangs forward and you use the hand not pinning her knuckle deep to brace yourself against the mattress. A few moments and your pace starts up slowly again, gradually increasing in speed and forcing little moans from you.

At 4 fingers, god, the woman under you moans when she feels her fingers sink into your heat, and you let out a long curse of a moan and need to use both hands to brace yourself against the matress. While you catch your breath, you feel as she pulls out just the littlest bit, then pushes in the same, and it pulls a small grunt from your mouth and a shudder from you. She begins to play with you more and all you can do is pant above her, your legs too weak to keep up the same movement as before. Her thumb presses against your clit and she starts to thrust properly now, and you can barely catch your breath between the moans and the pleasure.

Eventually she pauses her thrusting and you whine at the stop, wanting more, but she says in a strained voice, “Do you think you're ready? I don't know how long either of us are gonna last if this keeps up.” and you get your wits slightly more about you, still mourning how empty you feel when she pulls out her fingers.

You take a bit to reposition in a way that will be comfortable for you both and settle for you laying with your hips on a cushion and her thrusting in from off the bed. Having her in between your legs with her cock heads in her hand, one thumb parting your labia and the other grabbing your hips firmly, is a sight to behold, one that makes you squirm with excited anticipation. And she isn't one to disappoint.

Her fingers sneak forward first, rubbing at your clit, then her thumb pulling away your lips, then she sinks in 3 fingers again and you straighten up, not expecting it but laxing back into the mattress when you get used to it.

She pats your thigh and mutters an offhanded “good boy”, though she seems completely enveloped in her work, watching her fingers disappear and reappear from your hole. You interrupt her thrusting to tell her to add a fourth finger again, and as she does you feel your climax sneak up on you, right there, your moan of surprise loud. You hold back from letting yourself release knowing how good it would feel to cum around her cock, with her spilling into you and filling you with enough of her cum that you cant even keep it all in. and that thought right there nearly drives you to cum again.

You have her pause on her thrusts for a moment while you catch your breath, and she does, leaning forward and pressing kissing to your neck and chest. Shen she grinds her thumb against your clit and her 4 fingers even deeper you groan with pleasure and she bites you gently. she pulls back and gives a few more thrusts of her hand, making your eyes screw shut and you worry your lip between your teeth. Then she asks quietly, cock in hand, if you're ready, and you nod excitedly.

It's a struggle to get her inside at first. Her two cockheads are the first obstacle, needing to fit both in at once. You, for your credit, take it like a champ, but she has some trouble actually inserting her cock in and spends a bit of time fubbing her tips up and down your slit. Eventually though, she grabs you by the hips, pulls you closer to the edge of the bed, and pushes both her tips inside.

She pushes inside infuriatingly slowly. You feel her push, seeking your tight heat, her heads right there, right outside until finally she begins to sink inside. The stretch is still alot even after you both adjusted yourself a bit more, and you need a moment of discomfort with her about an inch and a half or two inches deep, before the pressure and pleasure starts to make you pant.

On her end, the moment she sinks even a bit into you she groans, loud and clear, and grips your hips even stronger. Your cunt is so tight and warm and wet around her, and though she waits for your signal to continue, she still shifts and tries to get any stimulation on the part of her cock not sheathed in you. She’s about an inch or inch and a half inside you and starts stroking the rest of her cock gently, jerking herself inside of you. The moment you give the sign she can fuck you further she needs to stop herself from just snapping forward, shaky hips clearly restraining themself, and when you feel your hole finally reach the thinner part of her cock you sigh and flex.

You can feel as a little bit of cum spurts from both heads at the movement, and you remember how quick she recovered, already making a plan on how to wear her out. As is though, you breathe out to get used to the size and tap her hand to pause her, only letting her go deeper when you start feeling like you need to shift and squirm to get more. You let her sink deeper and she is groaning, when you look up her eyes are unfocused and she's panting and drooling onto your tits, looking like she wants nothing more than to hug you flush with her and start humping you like a pathetic dog.

You nearly laugh at the sight but pity her and let her press forward a bit. as she does, one of her heads catches that part inside that makes you see stars and you tap her hand when your eyes widen and your back arches. You stay in that stalemate for a bit before you can stand to actually shift enough with the way her cock pushes and rubs against that spot, still shaking, to tap her hand again, and you realize just how big she is. From a glace, shes pretty long and obviously girthy, but when your paying attention to two tips, you put less priority on length.

But as she sunk into you, your eyes get wider and you start to wonder when she even ends. It seems longer when she's taking her time, and you know reasonably she's probably only about 8 or 9 inches, still big, but able to fit. But it feels like so much more as her thick length slides into you, your hole wet enough to let her do so, your entrance hugging her thinner shaft tight while her two heads no doubt are wrapped tight inside. She pushes and your hips are flush together, her cock deep within you, and her grip on your hips is enough to bruise. Her just staying there is making you pant heavier, your blush warmer and your body needier.

And wasn't that the picture for her, trying to keep her restraint, with you under her asking her to start thrusting. So she starts. Her pace is slow and unsteady, the sensation of being inside someone new and a different level. Your back arches when she pulls out just enough to catch your sweet spot, then pushes in and her hips stutter where your spot is and give a few short thrusts.

You are attempting to squirm or do anything to get more when she pulls you closer to her and starts snapping her hips into and out of you, causing you to curse and moan loudly. Her two heads filled you up so well and always hit just the right spot, and she would reach down to rub on your clit or around it every so often, her head back and panting as she fucks into you.

Eventually her hips start to stutter, quicker and shorter thrusts changing their pace and movement sporadically, and she falls over you, panting and saying “I’m gonna cum in you if I keep going, ‘msorry, you feel so good, so tight, I wanna fuck you but I cant stop myself without taking a moment.” You feel her cock twitch and throb inside of you, can feel the throbbing in your own cumt, and you ask her how long it takes her to recover. Her eyes widen when she realizes what you mean and she groans, her cock twitching inside of you again, and when yous squeeze around her you can hear her let out a small “fuck”.

She tells you it probably won’t take too long and you grin and roll your hips against her and ask how many times she can cum before it starts taking longer. She gulps, then grabs your hips and says ”I guess we can find out,” then begins thrusting again. She’s soft and inconsistent with her thrusts, it seems like it feels so good that she cant even do it, so you push yourself up then wrap your arms behind her neck and tell her to hold your thighs and sit down. When she picks you up you moan from the position change, her cock rubbing against your walls so nicely, and when she sits down the bounce from the bed bounces you up and down on her cock once and you whine.

Then you place your hands on her shoulders and start using them as leverage to ride her, this new position making her tips hit your sweet spot each thrust, and you bounce up and down. Soon she’s shaking under you, and you can tell she’s trying desperately not to start fucking up into you and bouncing you, and at this point you’re getting kinda weak, so you have her switch you two back around, but keep her hips flush with yours until you hear her start to curse at being held back, then you wiggle on her cock and ask her sweetly to fuck you hard.

And she meets your request perfectly. You can feel her cocks pounding in and out, pace quick and ruthless and so very perfect, and with each thrust as your body gets pushed back it rocks a moan from you. She keeps thrustsing even when her hips start to shake, and then she starts to fuck into you even harder, meeting your sweet spot hard and fast, every so often paising to grind deep and low into your cunt before starting her snapping pace again.

You feel your orgasm start to approach quickly again, letting it wrap around you while she humps you desperately and rubs at your tdick sloppy and unfocused, and you can feel yourself on the edge, teetering right over the precipice as she grinds into, then pulls and pushes and thrusts into you, and with one, two more brushes off your g spot you’re almost there, but when her hips stutter right where your g spot is and she begins to angle her short brutal thrusts straight for it? You stood no chance.

You squeeze around her cock as she builds you higher and higher, moans getting louder and louder, and then you hear her start to babble and moan too, “Oh fuck, gonna cum inside you, you’re gonna be so full, take it all so nicely, you did so good, felt so good, such a good boy,” and then you cum around her cocks, and you can feel her still fucking you through it with the same pace, babbling and whining and moaning into the sheets, humping desperately into you as she gets so close, so close to her release, and her hips are still angled to hit your spot, pushing grunts and breathless sighs out of you every time, and she starts to rub gently at your clit again, and then you feel her hips jerk and her body stiffen and her thrusts get more desperate and erratic and she whines and keens above you, whispering how good you were, then she shoves herself as deep as she can reach inside you and groans, and you can feel her shoot her load inside of you, feel how it fills you, feel how her cocks twitch and she shudders and how her cocks move with the force of the ejaculation, and you wrap your legs around her hips and grind into her cock even further, causing her to groan and double over on top of you.

Her hips jerk sometimes, and you feel an especially strong load coming in, and soon enough you can feel her cum start to run out of you, no way the amount she produces would ever fit. Then a pulse of her cum escapes from your entrance, then another, your cunt desperately squeezing and trying to keep all her cum in you only succeeding in making her groan and moan and ejaculate more into you. You continue squeezing around her and giving her more stimulation to keep her orgasm going, getting worked up again by doing this, and eventually you feel her start to move to pull away. You stop her by wrapping your legs around her waist where the two of you are connected and you shoot her a grin. You tell her that until you‘ve milked her dry, her cocks need to be warm, don't they? She’s a dragon after all- a type of lizard.

She picks you up and you both clean up the cum that leaks from your hole, needing to work around the strange positioning, but eventually the two of you are on the couch with some random movie pulled up, shirts and things that could barely pass for pants slipped around thighs, her still buried to her hilt in your cunt. It doesn’t even take that long for her to harden again inside you, it's more just for fun now. you shift and squirm and grind down on her lap and she tries to keep herself from moaning or bucking up, and that way you edge yourself together.

But the nights been too exciting, and you are more eager than usual to get to actually cumming, so you keep the actual subtle moves to a minimum and more often than not just grind down on the cock buried in you or wiggle your hips, or even just shove your hands down your pants and paw at yourself and moan, paying close attention to the little movements, the twitch of the cock inside you, the shake of her hips, the way her grip on your waist tightens, and soon enough you forget about the movie in favor of the orgasm fast approaching you.

You sit on her lap, with your back against her chest and her cock buried in your cunt, and you start getting close, spurred on each time you feel her hands tighten when you whine or the way her hips jerk and almost bounce you. Then, when you're so close you start babbling and murmuring nonsense pleas or “please pleaseplease so close,” she starts snapping her hips up fully into your cunt, bouncing you each time and making you moan wanton and loud. One of her hands at the same time reaches around and moves away your own hand to start stroking your tdick, and she brings her face to your shoulder and neck and begins teething and sucking lightly at it.

You whine loudly and she starts pulling you in harsher, stronger, and it makes your back arch and you whimper as you climax again, squeezing down hard on her cock, and you feel a bit of cum slip down your inner thigh. She keeps fucking you, setting a brutal pace and making you whine as you get fucked so hard you start to drool, then suddenly it stops.

You whine in protest, partly to try to get her to start again, but stop when she picks you up. She brings you to the bathroom and she lifts you up so you are still pressed against her front, but now you can see yourself in the mirror, and god what a sight you are.

Sweaty, neck covered in purple marks, blush heavy on your cheeks and eyes half lidded, lips kissed and bitten pink, with strong hands wrapped around your thighs that lift you up so you can see where you and her connect, your legs spread to show off the two of you. And the next thing she does, it nearly knocks the breath from you when you realize.

She wants you to watch her fuck you, wants you to watch how she thrusts into you, watch as your face becomes more and more fucked out. you blush brightly but you don't stop her, instead keep your gaze on her cock as slowly she pulls out, then shoves you back down onto her. Fuck, that was hot in a completly different way. The way she slides inside looks so lewd, and it’s filthy how easy you’ve made it for her.

She bounces you, keeps bouncing you, and the heat grows and grows until you cum, a loud groan and a muttered curse, and you realize you've squirted. You watch it drip down her cock and your face goes even redder somehow, but it doesn't seem like she cares, she just starts pumping into you again, and you can feel how heavy her breathing has gotten with her eyes fixed on the mirror, and yours are too, moaning and whimpering every so often.

She starts groaning gently, her hips start jerking faster, and you squeeze around her to try to give her more. Some of her cum leaks out of you and you whine. Her pace is brutal and enough to make you moan and get close to the edge again, so you meet her thrusts halfway and then you watch in the mirror as she buries herself as deep as she can go and ejaculates. You feel it again, feel how intense and how much there is, but now you see it and you can't tear your eyes away. Her cock buried deep in your cunt, twitching as she gasps into your ear, with her cum being too much to even fit and spilling out of you.

Your stomach clenches at this and her hips jerk up on reflex, and you feel her load get big again, her seed pouring into you, and at the feeling of being filled, so deeply and wholly, you can't help but to shudder around her cock and climax with her, again, her helping you ride it out with each spurt of cum and little twitch, the sight of the pair of you in the mirror making you dizzy.

[nautilusopus]

okay FIIIIIINE i'll throw my hat into the Goncharov ring

Been a while i've done a proper movie breakdown, may as well be this one.

Rather surprisingly (but perhaps not too surprisingly given the unexpected renaissance of things like the original Dracula and Breaking Bad on this website out of seemingly nowhere and with very little prompting), I'm seeing a lot of new people suddenly interested in Martin Scorsese's seminal film classic Goncharov, originally released in 1973. Obviously a movie like that doesn't make it coming up on 50 years without generating a lot of discussion about the different ways the movie resonates and why, but coming into it in 2022 there's been so much cultural cruft that's collected around Goncharov that (similar to stories like Fight Club and Scarface) it's a little hard to parse what it's actually about with all the mythologising that's gone on around the characters.

Those movies, in one way or another, are about portraying the downfall of their protagonists -- Fight Club's after ironically creating another system of control and dehumanisation and becoming what he sought to destroy, Scarface's after being consumed by the wealth and power he's amassed. A lot of people assume it's that kind of story, because aren't most well-loved movies? However, I think this is ironically an assumption made because of the genre of film it is. All the people that aren't going, "OMG Goncharov is so cool and badass and fucks bitches," are going, "WOW I can't believe Goncharov is a cautionary tale about power corrupting," and in the process people miss that Goncharov is first and foremost about loss, in all its different forms.

I'm both kind of surprised and frustrated people miss this, given how utterly pervasive the movie is with its clock symbolism -- it's the one thing everyone remembers about it, it was in all the tie-ins. I dunno, maybe that got funneled back into the theory where they're meant to reinforce how Goncharov is just a mortal man at the end of the day, which is fine I guess, but the movie overall becomes a lot clearer when you interpret it through the lens of, "These things are gone and you can never get them back; clocks don't go backwards."

One of the most fascinating things about the movie is how every character embodies a different kind of loss. I'm gonna ease into this and start not with Goncharov but with:

Rybak, who is usually associated with loss as we typically think of it, i.e. the loss of loved ones via death. This comes up all the time, either in his trust issues (why he's being such a prick at the wedding), in the card game (he never bothers to bet much money, knowing he's bad at poker, and still loses all the same). Rybak is terrified of loss, cannot manage it, and ultimately is punished by losing what few people he had left and then being spared by Lorenzo who deems him punished enough, and is forced to survive, to grapple with what his life is now without them.

Goncharov's is actually more subtle, and it's loss of small, insignificant things as a result of the larger losses he believes he's processed. This is something that's frequently contrasted against Rybak. The pawn shop going under is actually a microcosm of this whole thing. Goncharov anticipates that this is obviously going to lead to financial issues for him, plans accordingly to deal with this, and... it works! He's saved! Except that means card games can't be hosted at his place anymore, given it's burned to the ground. Does this matter, in the grand scheme of his life? No, of course not. Poker night still gets had all the same. But it is different now, and always will be. Little things like this continue to add up, until something as insignificant as a towel -- a towel that never should have been in his room, but Sofia is no longer there to drop off his laundry and chat with him -- is ultimately the final nail in a coffin built of insignificant splinters, each one an imperceptible change underneath the much more larger, noticeable story beats of things like grief.

Otto is the big obvious one I'm not gonna linger on: loss of his youth, moments in the past that he wants to redo but can't. Most people at least seem to have gotten this one.

(This is also what the clocks get associated with a lot, which again, doesn't NOT make sense but also if it were just for this one character that, while thematically important, was honestly just a side character with limited screentime and only two scenes, would they really be all over the movie before Otto's name is even mentioned?)

Sofia's a bit abstract, and is the loss of self -- of the familiar anchors we have to who we are, what we think our core principles are, our place in society, who we want to be to our loved ones -- and by the time she dies she is rendered utterly unrecognisable to herself, and is horrified by it. She grieves herself the same way Rybak grieves his wife (even gets a direct visual callback via the way her face is lit when she's burning Lorenzo's check). You see echoes of this in Goncharov as well, but while Sofia is grieving the person she used to be, Goncharov is grieving the world around him (even though really, it's the same world it always was -- time keeps ticking on, one second per second, and neither one of them can ever un-fire that gun).

Lorenzo, tragically, gradually loses his freedom (and maybe in a parallel world would actually be the protagonist of a movie where he chokes on his own hubris like everyone seems to think Goncharov is GRUMBLE GRUMBLE). As he comes into his own more and more by his family's legacy, he is afforded fewer and fewer options about what decisions he can even make. Arguably he was doomed from the start, but the further he clings to power as a means to freedom, the more it drives him to destroying everything he ever (thought he) cared about. The tragedy of his character, and what makes him a good villain, is that he can clearly see what he is doing to himself and he absolutely hates it (his walking out early at the wedding is a tacit admission of this), but his absolute refusal to accept loss, to accept grief and pain and all the awful shit that comes with the human condition, is what causes him to toss aside every out he has because if he has enough CONTROL over his situation, surely he will never have to lose anything ever again. But, really, he already has.

I dunno. Goncharov is one of those movies that is great, and everyone seems to realise it's great, but nobody ever really puts into words why, and that's how you get Fight Club fans lmao. And it sucks because the actual discussion around the movie beyond "it's another hubris story but REALLY GOOD guys" is so much more fascinating and a much more earnest emotional truth that just never gets talked about.

[plumipal]

honestly the tattoo wip made me happy to read through bc i love!!! it when the close bond between prefect and adeuce is acknowledged. like, in canon, prefect is the closest to ace and deuce. adeuce go and talk to their families about prefect unlike the other characters (like how deuce's mom specifically knew abt prefect unlike with other events where we meet family). i just... whether it's romantic or platonic, i love adeuce x prefect so much, they're so cute and they should be together forever. rip to all the students but i like ordinary guy one and two the most. so what im saying is thank you for the treat and i can't wait to see what else is in store.

You and me both anon! I have the tattoo for a reason lmao! I swear it is real I paid 100usd for it and have not regretted it once- its just love the dynamic both between Ace and Deuce, and with you in the mix it just makes it even better. How you all act around eachother, how they ALWAYS are with you in every chapter, how they COMMUTED to SAVE you when you were stuck in scarabia, romantic or platonic they truly do love and cate for you and I just-- they make me wanna cry,,,,

How fond thye both are od you like gnnhngngnng they make me so happy, the silliest and bestest of friends you could have in an unfamiliar magical school- I love the whole first year gång but there's something special bout adeuce (why I have them tatted but not the rest, might do something w grim too tho)

For my personal yuusona, they have sleepovers at ramshackle with Ace and deuce every week, masked as a study session just so Riddle could approve of it. The trio you cannot seperate, no matter how hard you try- I just love them so much <3<3<3<3<3<3

Like look at the amount of adeuce plushies I have

Also look at all plushies I have with me as I study across the country lol, I need my emotional support men (I have way more twst stuff

I have the boxes too and they look wonderful,,, OH I GOTTA SHOT MY CARD COLLECTION WHEN I GET HOME TOO!-