#it's scary to look at stuff you should enjoy but not feel anything or worse feel negative emotions

[diningwiththeasquiths]

Still having trouble finding joy in things but I'm slowly crawling out of my pit of despair (lol) so I think (hope) I'll return to fandom blogging soon. It hasn't even been that long but omg I do miss it and miss interacting with my online buddies 🥺

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Show me where it hurts (part 2)

Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader

GIF by aenhanse

(AO3 Mirror), Part 1, Main Masterlist

summary: You confront Miguel.

warnings: breeding kink, cum play, animalistic behaviour (not quite ABO), mutual masturbation, dirty talk, praise and degradation, Miguel eats ass like a fucking champ, general filth etc etc. very very 18+, minors dni (and i will b blocking!) 

a/n: thank you for all the support for part 1! I will say, all the comments about relationship building and stuff do make me laugh a little bc this part is literally just p0rn with a teensy tiny bit of feelings.. but if you follow me this should be pretty standard by now.

wc: 4k ish

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You let yourself in again, but not until after pounding on the door. 

You think he's home, the scent of something in the air. At first glance, his place is empty, but a mess : cushions ripped off the couch, kitchen ransacked of its contents, floor covered in blankets and clothes. It makes you worry: Miguel is so clean it's scary . He would never leave his place like this. You hear something from his bedroom and rush towards it.

He's there, back turned on the bed. But something's wrong. In sweats and a tank top, he's breathing heavily, clutching at the sheets. 

"You shouldn't be here." He strains. 

Eyes wide, you step closer. Is he in pain? Is he hurt? "Miguel. I just want to help. Did something happen?" 

All he does is shake his head, unable to make eye contact with you. "I c-can't let you… please, bichita. It's not safe for you."

Your heart breaks at his helplessness, you get closer, and perch on the bed next to him. He jumps at the hand you place in his shoulder. Fuck. He's drenched in sweat. 

"Miguel, please. Let me in… I'd do anything. Just let me help."

He groans with his head in his hands. "I know, bichita. That's the problem. I can't let you…"

You look at him properly now. He's writhing on the sheets, tense and unable to sit still. Guiltily, all you can think is how good he looks; pretty even when his hair sticks to the nape of his neck, when he groans lowly at your presence. Your eyes rake down his body, looking for a secret wound, or something he's hiding. When you spot it, you gasp. 

Miguel is rock hard under his sweats. And he is massive. 

It clicks. Ashamed, he makes hesitant eye contact with you. "It's not usually this bad. And it gets worse if I'm near someone I'm…" He breathes. "Someone I'm attracted to."

You can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the statement; of the situation. "I think that's just what erections do, Miggy." 

He rolls his eyes, too annoyed to be as uneasy for a moment. " No , God, I meant my DNA. There's something wrong with me, something animalistic , that makes it ten times worse. I'm going crazy. Smell, taste, touch… and it doesn't just go away. "

You hum. "And what's your hypothesis?" 

He looks at you, a little crazed, but he gets it. If you talk to him like it's one of your status reports, like it's another mission, maybe he can stop thinking about pounding you into the sheets and filling you up with his cum. 

He clears his throat. " You . Gets worse when I t-think about you, or you're near."

You've got a hand on his thigh, rubbing circles that go straight to his head. 

"What makes it feel better?" 

Deep breath. "Touching myself. But I haven't… and I won't-" 

"Why?" You smile like a Cheshire cat. Are you… enjoying this? 

"I can't. You're a friend and it's a violation of your trust."

"It hurts. You're in pain. I give you full permission to give yourself some relief. You can touch yourself, for me. I want you to feel good."

His hips buck up involuntarily. Just thinking about it is driving him crazy. " Mierda. Stop talking like that-" 

"Like what?" You bat your eyelashes. 

"Like that ." He hisses. "Like you want to get fucked."

He squeezes his eyes shut, even more guilty. "I'm sorry. That's not appropriate at all. I shouldn't have… snapped like that."

You rub your legs together: you're fucking soaked. Like this, with his senses going crazy, you don't know if he can smell it, taste it in the air. The thought makes you even wetter. 

You mumble. "Meant it, Miguel. I just want to watch."

Agonisingly slow, you sink to your knees in front of him. He watches, eyes wide, trying not to lean into it. 

"Do you want me to beg? Because I will, if it makes you feel better." 

He grabs his crotch, rocking into his palm. You're breaking him down, bit by bit. 

"I think you like punishing yourself, Miggy. You think you deserve it. How long have you been like this? Weeks, I bet. When all you needed to do was ask me. I would've helped you over the phone if you wanted it. Told you how to stroke your cock, where to put pressure, asked you if it felt good. Think about how good it would feel. The relief. "

You rock on your heel and it doesn't go unnoticed. You light him on fire, and the thought of you getting off only pushes him closer to the edge. "Can I tell you a secret?" You whisper. He nods fervently. "I've always wanted you in my mouth. Just wanted to know what it would feel like; how pretty you'd look when you cum."

It's too much. His back arches, and he groans, spilling into his sweats. Astounded, you look up. So. Much. Cum. You didn't think a person could physically produce so much, but here he is, coating the inside of his boxers with it. Miguel, however, looks embarrassed: his first orgasm in a week and it's spilling into his trousers in front of a pretty girl like a teenager. He groans, covering his flushed face. 

"Can I…?" Your eyes are wide in amazement. Shakily, he nods. 

Is it bad for you to say he looks just like you imagined? Tan, long and with a bit of girth, and under all the cum he seems well-groomed. He's still half hard, which is impressive considering the sheer amount of cum splattered everywhere. Probably, he has the prettiest cock you've ever seen. As you pull down his boxers, your very obvious glee makes him pause. 

"...you like this?" He seems genuinely confused, and it makes you giggle. You've flustered him, yet again. 

Resting a head on his thigh, you look up at him through innocent lashes. Your other hand swipes cum off his tip, making his cock jump. "Could ask you the same. You're still hard." 

"I can't believe…" He mutters. "You're gonna kill me." 

"What do you want, Miguel?" You put a hand on his length, rubbing up and down ever so slightly. "You want to get off?" 

"I want…" It makes him grunt all the same. He goes from wayward glances to looking you straight in the eyes. " You . I want you." 

"How do you want me?" Deceptively innocent, you coax his length back to full mast with your hand. 

How do you want me? There are a thousand thoughts flying through his head, and his brows tense with the weight of them. Head back, he leans into your touch. He doesn't want to scare you, with the way he's been thinking about that question long before you asked: weeks, months, years before now. You see him hesitate, and bite his lip.

Your hands still and he cries out, cursing the loss of warmth. "M'not asking again." A little softer now. "No judgement, Miggy. I just want to help." 

Deep breath. "Anyway I can. Wanna fill you up with my cum. On top. U-Underneath. Mierda. I want your mouth. I want your sweet cunt. I-" 

You silence him with a moan when you envelope his cock with your mouth. You close your eyes in bliss as you bob up and down. Just the tip, teasing , and he's already addicted. With a pop, you separate, pressing sticky kisses and kitten-licks to his shaft and torso. He can't take his eyes off of you: peeking up at him through wispy lashes, licking up his cum. 

Pretty, plump lips smack at his tip obscenely. He can't help but think about how well it suits you; mouth around his cock like something holy.  Precum pours from his slit and you lap it up, chasing his moans. Your own moans vibrate deliciously around him and he wraps a hand in your hair. Finally. You want him to enjoy this, to lean into your head-bobbing, and force your head down onto his dick. You want to feel him in the back of your throat, bullying into the warmth of your mouth and moulding you into the shape of him. 

It starts with a little pressure at the back of your neck, deceptively subtle as he rocks his hips into your face. Making eye contact, you look up and feel your pussy clench around nothing. His eyes are lidded, gorgeous, mouth slightly parted and tongue darting out to wet rosy lips. 

"You want it, hermosa ?" His voice has a different texture to it: deep and wanting and needy. 

As best you can, you nod, humming affirmations around his cock. Oh God, of course you do. You want him; anyway you can, anyway he'll let you, more than he'll ever know. 

He pushes you down, hard, cock hitting the back of your throat like a piston. You gurgle and choke around him, throat tightening in a way that makes him melt. You force yourself deeper, hot tears welling up at the corners of your eyes. Your hands claw at his thighs, nails digging so tight into the fabric you think he might bleed. Winding a hand down to your heat, you press your palm into that sweet spot at your clit and Miguel watches, hungry. 

"Oh fuck , you feel so good. I'm gonna– m-mierda – m'gonna cum."

With a final tug, he pushes you down so your nose brushes at the curly hairs leading down to his cock, spilling into you with vigour. It pours down your throat and you drink it up with pleasure. 

"All gone?" He asks, panting with exertion. In response, you open up your mouth, sticking out your pink tongue so he can inspect it. He stirs when he realises just how cock drunk you are: nary a trace of him left on your tongue.

Slowly, he brings a thumb to your mouth, and watches intently as you swirl it around, and suck on it keenly. The pressure makes him light headed, other hand reaching for your waist to pull you up. And pull you up he does, turning you around so he can take off your suit and have you seated on his lap, where you belong. 

You let him, shrugging off the top half of the suit as he pulls down your zipper. Surprisingly gentle, he traces the slope of your shoulders, and down to your bare ass. He groans. No underwear, because of course , you want to kill him. You want him to die, pussy-whipped and half-hard. He pushes you towards the wall, back pressed flush against him. He drags his fangs across your neck and whispers into the shell of your ear, making your whole body shiver. 

"Once I start," He kneads your ass, grinding his cock against you. You gasp. He's still hard. "M'not gonna be able to stop. And it's not going to be sweet, bichita . You leave now and I won't be angry . I–I'll give you space, whatever you want."

" Miguel," Head back, you moan into his touch, dragging his hand towards your slit, hoping he’ll relieve the pressure at your pussy. "I want it to hurt. I want to feel it tomorrow– fuck– f-feel it when I walk and know it was you . Need it. Need you , please-" 

He bites into your shoulder, and you moan wantonly, back arching into his length. He places your hand on the wall, palms flat. Like the chaser after a burning shot, he soothes haphazard squeezes down your back with his mouth. Hot, messy kisses, as he sinks to his knees. He forces you to hinge at the hip.  Breasts pushed against the cool wall, you gasp when you feel him spread the globes of your ass as he presses his tongue to your hole. He licks the length of your slit, and like a slut, you lean into it. 

"Prettiest cunt I've ever seen, hermosa." He brings his hand to your clit, giving you a wet slap as he watches you shudder. Again, and again, until you cry out. 

" Miguel, fuuuck." 

How has he gone his whole life without hearing you say his name like that? Yet again, he almost cums in his pants, loosely shoved over his aching length. All he can do is watch as your holes flutter and clench around nothing, mesmerised. 

"You'd look even prettier filled with my cum, hmm?" He presses a sticky kiss to your puckered asshole, before easing his tongue inside. One hand holding you open, the other comes to play with your pussy, swirling your wetness around your throbbing clit. 

He tongue-fucks you with fervour, like a man starved: only coming up for air to babble obscenities. 

"Tan bonita, bichita." Slowly, he eases his fingers into your cunt, scissoring them open and shut. He wants to break you apart with only his hands, if you'd let him. "So pretty– fuck. So soft, baby. Beautiful."

You're close and he knows it, fucking yourself on his fingers and face like a bitch in heat. Undeterred, he brings a thumb to your clit pressing down with juust the right amount of pressure. 

"Wanna feel it, hermosa . Can you cum for me? All over my fingers like a good girl, just like that, así de simple."

With the way he paws at your pussy, all you can do is clench around his fingers. He guides you through a shaking, biting orgasm, licking up your cum with a flourish. Even with shaky legs you manage to turn around and pull Miguel up, and he follows eagerly. He looks fucked out already, eyes low and lips swollen with your slick. He motions to strip, stretching his tank top across the expanse of his chest and letting his cock spring free from his sweats. When you move to help him, he stops you, moving your hand from his tank to his solid torso beneath. He wants you to touch him; to feel your soft palm run across his skin, and sink into the warmth of your body. 

One hand at your waist, he presses you against the wall, grinding his cock to your clit. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and they fit like they belong there. Close, impossibly close, and his pupils are blown, wide. It's like he can't decide what he wants to do to you, sharp red eyes darting over your lips, your neck, down to the juncture where you both meet. A paralysis of choice, and all he can do is drink you up in the low light. 

And so, you make a choice for him, lips crashing against his, hand snaking around to guide his cock into your hole. He sinks into you - finally - and you swallow his moans in the aftermath. He's slow to start, eyes screwed shut as he gets used to how tight you are around him. Slowly, he rocks into you, the heat of his palm steady at the crook of your back. 

Miguel opens his eyes, caging you in with his other arm. He's testing the waters, angling his hips to find the spot that makes you tick.

"I didn't-" He breathes. "Didn't think it would be like this." 

You look at him in your haze, brows knitted. 

"I thought that when I finally fucked you, it would be more romantic." He gives you a strained chuckle and warm smile. "This is better in some ways, though." 

"Better , Miggy?" 

"Real." Your cunt flutters around him, and his pace stutters. Not once does he break eye contact, something swirling beneath the surface. "Not in my head. God , that sounds pathetic."

You giggle into the crook of his shoulder. It shouldn't be possible, but his eyes soften even more. And then, his expression changes into something dangerous. 

"I can't do this just once, bichita. You can't give me a taste and then take it away. Es cruel, mi vida."

As if to punctuate his point, you feel his tip slam into that spongy spot in your walls. His strokes become more calculated, punishing and exact, sending waves of pleasure radiating throughout your body. 

"Miguel – fuck– that's not fair- " 

"Can't keep humping my hand como un perro , like a dumb dog, anymore." He brings both his palms to your ass, spreading you apart, and pulling you up onto his dick so your toes barely touch the floor. The slap of your ass against his thighs and heavy balls fill the room, pornographic in nature. 

"Let-" Smack. " Me-"  Smack. " Fill-" Smack. " This-" Smack. " Cunt. " Smack. 

You babble into his ears, affirmations and praise that makes his heart and cock swell. 

'So pretty, Miguel. Yours. All yours." You rake your hands through his hair, harshly tugging him closer in a way that makes him burn up. Clenching around his length, you wrap your legs around his waist. He barely falters, pulling away from the wall and slamming into you regardless. You've seen him like this before; fiery determination that flares up on a tough mission. Tunnel vision: a razor-sharp resolve that has manifested itself in a man hellbent on your pleasure. 

"Miguel. Miguel, I-" I love you, I love you, I love you, I- " -wan' you to cum with me. Deep, please."

Now, his pace gets sloppy, hips stilling to drive himself as deep as you asked; so you can feel him long after you separate. Hot, sticky cum pumps into you and his balls strain with the effort of it. You claw your hand against his back, trailing delicious marks with your nails. When you clamp around him, you swear you see his eyes roll back - lost in the bliss of your cunt. Together, you come down from the high, bare chests panting against one another. 

"Don't look at me like that." His lips graze yours, soft and plush. You stretch your chin upwards, chasing the trace of a kiss he refuses to give to you. Eventually he relents, leaning into a sweet kiss, arm wrapped around your waist. 

He pulls himself off of you with a wet smack, gently carrying you to his bed. He places you in his sheets and you look beautiful, blissful, and fucked out. Cum drips onto your thighs and he feels a pang of possessiveness. His cum. His baby.

Clambering in to spoon you, he can't help but paw at your pussy, using his fingers to stuff his cum back into you, tracing lazy circles on your thigh with his other hand. 

"I'm on birth control, Miggy. So no need to worry." You snuggle into his touch, bare skin against one another. 

"Wasn't worried." He grunts, sounding almost disappointed. You catch his tone, intrigued.

"No harm in trying," You lilt, turning around to place your palms flat on the wide span of his chest. "You wanna fuck a baby into me?" 

Nodding, he groans, head back into the pillow, and you push him onto his back. Pussy throbbing, you straddle his hips; thighs tight around his middle. You can feel him growing harder in the slick of your slit. 

You arch into him, tender hand around his throat. It's a sight he won't forget easily: you on top of him, the gloom of the night tracing the swell of your tits. An angel, all the same. You whisper something into his ear that gives him goosebumps; a full body chill that goes straight to his cock. "My turn, bichito."

~~~

"You never called." Miguel says, laying his head next to yours, after wiping you down with a clean towel. He hands you a spare shirt of his, and you put it on, self-conscious. 

The two of you had fucked well into the night, making good on your promises. His stamina was relentless, pumping load after load into you, pussy-drunk and babbling. There was an intensity there that couldn't be explained: one that made both of you crazy for one another, burning you out between the silky sheets of his bed. Something you had initially attributed to his rut, whatever he had called it, but desperately hoped it was something more. How could this be just sex? After everything you had said and done, it would crush you: to taste the forbidden fruit and have it snatched away just as easily. 

You had both laid there for a bit, afterwards, cock softening in you. Plugging up his cum, he had said, but it felt more intimate in the quiet calm of his bedroom. 

"You didn't either." You throw back at him. 

"That's not th-" 

"I know, I know. It just felt weird, s'all." You turn from him, looking up at the ceiling. Counting the mottles and marks in your head, suddenly shy. After all the filthy things you've said and done to him, he still makes you shy. "I thought I did something wrong."

His heart breaks. "No, no , it wasn't-" 

"Not just today. Last time…a-and the time before that, honestly. We see each other less. You're always busy with something. Felt like you were avoiding me." Rubbing your temples, you sigh. "S'why I cut some corners on the mission. Made mistakes. I thought if I did well, and we had something to talk about…"

"Mierda." You can't bring yourself to look at him, to see the disappointment in his scarlet eyes. But it isn't disappointment, and it’s not directed at you. 

"I wanted to call, but I didn't. Because I didn't think you would answer." Finally, you turn to see his brows knitted: swirling with shame, guilt, sadness. Quickly you add, "I mean, I know why now. I think. And it's really on me, I should've said something or-" 

"I just… I didn't know what to do with it." He takes your hand in his, squeezing tight. 

"...I don't understand."

"All this love I have for you." He says, impossibly soft. "I didn't know what to do with it."

You know him like the back of your hand and you've heard it all: angry, snarky, giddy, beautiful Miguel O'Hara. But this? Confirmation of the feelings you've held for years at this point, dismissed during late nights and pored over during lonely ones - this? 

"And I didn't think you felt the same way, how could you? You're beautiful, and smart, and you have this… way of making people burn as bright as you. So I poured myself into work. That's all I know how to do, bichita. Work. Suffocate under everything. You don't deserve it."

With the way he says it; resigned, matter-of-fact; you want to cry. Still, he hangs on to the notion that he must earn it : that his claws are too sharp and fangs too bloody for redemption. For love, for life, for good things. Miguel O'Hara; doing what needs to be done. Alone, always. 

You come closer to cup his chin, to make sure he's looking at you. There can be no ambiguity, no gray area when you say what you want to say. 

"You don't tell me what to do, O'Hara . " You press a kiss to his cheek, and another to trembling lips. "I decide what I deserve. No-one else does, not even you."

"It's not like you listen to me, anyway." He says with a shaky smile. 

Sitting up slightly on your forearms, you place your head up on his chest. Listening to the steady thump-thump of his heart. You don't need your super senses to know that he's alive, that he's here. The look in his eyes; you couldn't explain it if you wanted to. 

"Bichita." You say, out of the blue. No doubt due to your poor pronunciation, he winces. "What does it mean?" 

Clicking his tongue, he waves it off. " Very vulgar, you don't want to know. I mean, I shouldn't really-"

"Hmm." Shaking your head, you feign ignorance. "It's just that Lyla said it meant sweetheart, or little bug... terms of endearment, I think was the phrase."

"She said that?" He frowns. "Lyla's filling your head with nonsense, m'afraid. It's sarcastic. Post-ironic, metatextual… it comes across completely different in Spanish, mi vida."

"Post-ironic? That's not even the second most pretentious thing you've said today…" Giggling, you bury your head into his chest. 

"Of course not. I reserve my best stuff for you."

"Real classy, O'Hara. Bet you say that to all the poor women that end up in your bed."

"Nope." He hums. "Just the ones I've been in love with for the past two years."

He pulls you closer, smiling into light kisses on your shoulder, the fat of your stomach, your thighs, on your cheek. Kisses everywhere, anywhere he can reach.

"Just you, bichita." He breathes into your skin. "Only you ."

_

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taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @ebrysteria

[certifiedsexed]

I'm not sure where else to ask this but it seemed like an alright place. I believe something is wrong with me as I don't want to have sex. Or do anything even remotely sexual. I see posts and comments all the time of people talking about people and sometimes characters and how attractive and hot they are, but I just don't get it. I want to fall in love, and date and do all those romantic things. But I do not want to have sex, ever, and I feel like maybe I'm broken? Sex is always talked about around me as something everyone wants and will do one day, but it simply makes me feel sick and grossed out. Even the idea of masturbating grosses me out, it's sexual and I don't seem to like anything sexual at all. Although I live in a very small town, is it different in other places?

I've tried reading and watching, I've even watched stuff with just women in it! I tried masturbating but didn't get very far before feeling nauseous, I simply don't want to do anything sexual. It's very confusing and scary for me, I mentioned it to my mother and she said "You'll want it eventually, you just need to find what you like" but I never have and don't think I ever will. I've explored many different things but I always feel bored and put off at best, disgusted at worse. I don't care if others have sex, I'm not negative like that, I just don't want to ever be involved in it. Do you know what might be wrong with me? I don't want to bring it up to anyone again because they always look at me like something is wrong with me

- Rose

Hi, Rose! This is definitely a fine place to ask. (I love your name, btw.)

Let me start with saying there is absolutely nothing wrong with you for not wanting to have sex or do anything sexual. You don't have to have sex or be sexually attracted to other people. There's a name for that: it's called asexuality and its actually pretty common.

Not everyone has sex or "eventually wants sex". That's a very out-dated myth that has never been true.

I'd recommend looking for groups or even just researching asexuality online, Rose. There are so many other asexual people throughout the world and I think it'd be good for you to read/look into information on other people like you!

You don't have to force yourself to like sexual things. You can't force your sexuality to change. Especially if it's making you feel ill and you don't want to do it, that's not something you should be forcing yourself into just because others have told you that you should. There is no should with your sexuality.

Your mother is actually wrong. Not everyone likes sex! There's literally a sexuality for people who lack or experience varied sexual attraction [which is what you're talking about]: asexuality. There's also a word for the nausea and dislike you're talking about surrounding sexual things: sex repulsion.

You don't have to keep exploring things that make you feel ill. It's okay just to search out the things you actually enjoy or look forward to, like a romantic partner or even just focus less on sexuality itself and enjoy your life without trying to fix yourself.

There's nothing wrong with you, Rose. I'm sorry no one has been kind and taken you seriously but you're not broken or needing to wait for your sexuality to "kick in", your sexuality is fine as is.

I hope this helps! Let me know if you have any other questions, Rose. <33

[goingmerryfics]

Hello!! I recently found your blog and I love it!! ❤️

I was wondering if I could request something!

Kid, Mihawk and Law with a partner who’s into gothic clothing. uwu

Gothic style S/O w/ Kid, Mihawk & Law

Content: Gender Neutral reader, SFW!

Notes* Glad to have you! Thanks for the request :) Out of anyone, I think these three would be the most accepting/understanding of someone with this style and even indulge in it a bit themselves so I tried to make this a little more personal to each character. That being said, I feel like they turned out a little shorter than normal, but I hope you still enjoy it!

Kid

He wouldn’t even bat an eye if this was a regular thing to be dressed in gothic style. It’s pretty common around the crew, and even if it wasn’t, Kid appreciates the aesthetic of the style

He also just doesn’t give a shit what you wear as long as you can do your job

Looking good while doing it is also a plus

For that reason, he would help you out with your makeup for sure. Not that he has much experience with it in the first place, but he just likes any excuse to look at your lips

On the other hand, if your weren’t introduced to him in black and chains, he wouldn’t recognize you if you just up and changed your wardrobe

You walk out of your room in your new style, the one you’ve been wanting to try for years and never had the bravery to out of fear of judgement

But after joining the Kid Pirates, it didn’t feel so scary to go outside of the world’s expectations

“Who the fuck are you!? How’d you get on my ship!?”

After managing to convince him not to just throw you overboard, he does the unthinkable

“Oh. You look good. Better than that boring shit you used to wear.”

He compliments you

Kid will pick at your outfits and give unsolicited advice on how to coordinate or style your clothing

He isn’t one for making jewelry, but he might try if you can’t find anything that would match your clothes

Mihawk

No comment from him. You’d have to outright ask him what he thought, and even then it would be a short answer

“Yes, it’s a good look on you.”

He isn’t actually looking at you when he answers, but it’s genuine

You’d find him staring at you quite often, though

He enjoys the style on you, especially since his style is very close/similar to gothic

He respects your backbone for sticking to what makes you happy, and he’ll encourage you to stick up for yourself if anyone has anything to say about your look

Honestly, he’s seen people look and dress a lot worse, so he doesn’t see why anyone should be making unnecessary comments

Despite being a man of few words, he would still compliment your outfits every time

He, having a eye for the fashion, would also help you coordinate and mix up your clothing items and accessories to freshen up the looks

“That won’t do. We need to get you some earrings that will match this.”

It’s such a sweet way to spend the time that you two have together

Law

Law gets whiplash at first

His emo phase is coming back to him all at once and he’s cringing internally

But despite his own emotional setbacks, he is happy if you feel comfortable dressing this way

He’s very level-headed, so there’s not going to be a very big reaction out of him right away

His perception of you hasn’t changed, and it won’t anytime soon

“Express yourself however you like, just make sure you don’t alter the uniform too much.”

He’ll warn you that the crew might ask some dumbass questions or make rude comments

He also will ask you some questions, very carefully, not wanting to sound ignorant

He would come to your aid if you needed support, especially within his own crew

If you’re the type to wear a lot of make-up, he’ll be on your ass about cleaning your face every night 

He’d even help you do a skin care routine to make sure you were taking care of yourself!

If you bother him enough, he’ll start to do it with you, too

Gets you stuff that remind him of you, things he believes may align with your style

All in all, he’s pretty indifferent to the style, and may even be open to dipping back into it a little bit

He looks great in eyeliner, but damn it he keeps smudging it

[aclowntiny]

Hiii! Love your writing 💕

Was wondering if you could do a San + firsts? I love those 😭🫶🏻

Of course!!! Can’t wait to for this star 🌟!!!

San + Firsts

First Date: Of course San wants to spend time with you and all he can dream about is an adorable first date, but maybe just maybe there’s an agenda in it for him when he invites you to an animal café. After all, anyone he’s going to be in a relationship with has to be a good pet parent! Plus the sun is filtering in through the windows, all the cute fluffy babies are just begging to be pet, and your smile lighting up is one of the most precious things San’s ever seen.

First Time Holding Hands: You’re on a date at the carnival, lights dancing around you. San is looking at it all with wonder, but it seems you have other plans to get out of it all. “Let’s go in the haunted house!” You exclaim. “Why?” San whines. “Can’t we stay out here?” He isn’t the biggest fan of scary stuff, which you know, but maybe you’ve got something up your sleeve. “I’ll hold your hand,” you purr leaning closer and intertwining your fingers with his, “keep you nice and safe.” A smirk creeps onto your lips at the way San blushes. “Alright, if you really want to we can go,” he sighs, cheeks reddening as you pull him toward the dark doorway.

First Kiss: It happens the same day you first take his hand, this time back out in the safety of open, fried-treat-and-mist-scented funfair air. Moving on with a pouty San from the haunted house, you swear to spoil him rotten with games and fun to his heart’s content as a thank you. He wants to impress you, though, so soon San is taking the helm of a little water shooting stall, dropping a few bills to try his hand at dropping down

First ‘I Love You’: You provide warmth at San’s side as you two wend down the beach, your arm tucked tightly in his. Beneath the crashing water is your voice telling him everything you love about the sea: how powerful it feels to you, how close to the very forces of nature themselves you feel. He watches your expression, the awe and wonder upon your face, and all San can think of is how you're describing the way how his heart feels in the presence of yours. No way can he keep this to himself. “You're far more magnificent than the sea could ever hope to be, and my heart feels just as drawn to the waves of yours.” You giggle at that, beautiful eyes peering shyly ay him as you ask if that’s a quote from a book. “Just me,” he shakes his head, “why? Too much?” It isn’t. You love his words, beam at the way he tells you love makes him do crazy things. “Like this,” he breathes, pulled in by your gravity until your lips meet. “I really do love you,” he tells you when you pull away. “And I you,” you reply, beaming still as your foreheads lay met.

First Fight: It isn’t even the situation, it’s what you say. “Geez, can you please stop sulking?” San’s been sitting there hardly moving with a sad expression on his face, and while you always feel for him this time it isn’t helping you move forward from things. Your outburst has the opposite effect, however, and his head leans back suddenly as he looks for all the world like a kicked puppy. “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t think you of all people would be like this, though,” he adds at the end, voice barely above a whisper. “Be like what, a jerk? I just think we should try to make the best of things is all, and-” “That doesn’t change how I feel!” San shoots back. “Sorry I’m not a better actor.” Something about those words shake you, snap you out of the buzz of annoyance surrounding you. Uncrossing your arms, you sigh. “No, no. I’m not trying to invalidate you or anything, I just…I’m disappointed too. Seeing you upset just made it that much worse and I couldn’t take it. I shouldn’t have snapped.” “It’s ok. I shouldn’t act like it’s the end of the world, I’m just-” “Shhh, shh, there’s nothing wrong with being emotional. Let’s just enjoy next time, ok?”

First Anniversary: San is such a romantic he FOR SURE treats you even on your hundred days! He’s at your door with a teddy bear holding a bouquet, arms open ready to take you wherever you want to go, that cute necklace you’d had your eye on, you name it he’s got it! He’s overtaken with joy at your smile, musing how happy he is to have reached this point with you.

First Pet: Beside Byeol of course 💅🏻 because his sister often has her, you get a kitten of your own for San to spend time with whenever he can! Your choice is a lovely little brown tabby you call Choco 🤎 your very own Sanrio character at home!

[014miki]

♥︎‹ 𖤩 𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 .

C: song lyrics (specially), no gender specification (i try), care, comfort, soft behavior, little praises. (maybe by bi-han and later by you) nothing explicit or sexual, at least for now. bi han (sub-zero) x reader. a/n: It's my first story, be kind if you're going to make a comment or request. ¡enjoy! > used song: me and my husband by mistki.

You really cared about him, there wasn't a moment where you didn't think about him because he forever was stay on your mind, ¿how could you help it? He was your husband, by pure instinct you couldn't stop thinking about his well-being even though he is the most stubborn man on the planet. Still, he and you so doing better than most couples, anyone would have given up on your situation but you still remain stable despite the conditions you currently find yourself in. "me and my husband do it better"

Bi han had attended with his brothers a "test" that they would perform on some boys whom you did not know at all, at least you would have liked to know but he had not told you anything about it because it was not an interesting fact or one that you should know, or that was his words. Even so, you couldn't help but feel stupid sitting in that bed that you both shared, you felt insignificant and a waste of oxygen.

You couldn't help but think that you would disappear, your memories, everything you had seen and experienced with your eyes, your body, everything with you. You leaned your back against the mattress, resting your body except for your mind, you still had that guilt that tormented you every time he went on a mission with his brothers, you also worried about them but not to the same degree you did with him. Your eyes point lost at the ceiling, your gaze does not reflect anything, not even the brilliance that characterized you, impossible to do so under these conditions.

──── "¿Where are you, bi-han?" you think aloud.

──── "Im here, dear." he's talk, you hadn't noticed when he arrived at the temple where you both stay.

──── "¡Bi-Han, are you ok!" you answer happy and you huggie him.

──── "Yes, ¿You worried for me? I have told you many times not to do it, i will always come back." scolds.

──── "Sorry.. i.. i can't.. You are my husband and me too i'ts logic my reaction for you and you brothers."

──── "I understand but i i'm a lin kuei, i'm take care of myself and others. Specialy for people i matter to me." He responds as he places one of his hands on your cheeks, caressing it a little with his thumb. You could feel how rough it was.

──── "O—Okay... please... never again you scary me for this stuff. C'mon, come with me..."

He doesn't respond but agrees to your request, releasing your face and separating himself from you as he follows you. The look he gave you a moment ago fades as he remembers how things the day for him and his brothers today, rubbing the wound he had made on his arm a little, he assumed you had noticed it but he wished you hadn't.

As they advanced, he began to feel down and sad as he began to think about why he was doing all this ¿Why follow Liu Kang? ¿What did he having for done or have he done to improve things? For him he had done absolutely nothing and it brought back memories of how his father behaved the same or worse for him.

He felt shocked with all this, but then he remembered you, he thought that thanks to you he hadn't given up. I knew that you and he do it better, you knew that every time he was present you felt like someone special and with value and you both knew that neither of you would have a painted face and you would be united to this life today and always, not even death would separate you two.

but now it's time to tend to the superficial wounds, then the emotional ones and finally give yourself a little rest. Sometimes even a grandmaster needs a break from daily stress next to someone.

"and that someone is you."

Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it and please let me know if you notice any errors. I hope you like my first story (maybe so it won't be the last)

[nohoperadio]

I'm gonna have a crack at @perdvivly's ask meme what I got tagged in now... let's go!!

1. What virtue do you most often see in other people that you feel comparatively deficient in?

A less brave question asker might have built up to the heavy shit and put the lighthearted questions first, I respect it. Okay part of what's tricky here is that to answer this properly I'd have to make some judgment calls about which of my deficiencies are rightly attributed to genuine lack of virtue vs to something like disability, and that's a scary distinction to look at too closely. So my instinct is to avoid any territory close to that border, but the actual true answer probably is close to the border--the below is probably something of a cop-out is what I'm saying.

Here's something I've only relatively recently started conceptualizing as a virtue: the desire and ability to share the enjoyment of the things you're passionate about with other people. The books and music and etc I like, I tend to be content to enjoy them by myself in the corner, whereas for other people experiencing these things alongside others and talking about them and stuff is a large part of the point. This latter tendency is most obvious in what gets called fandom but there are lots of other expressions of it, some more casual/normie, but I don't really do any of it very much. And I used to think this difference was just "people care about different things, whatever" but lately I'm leaning more towards thinking that the more communal approach is just straight-up superior; it looks like some important, richer varieties of experience are available over that way, and I now regret that I didn't try to move myself further in that direction when I was younger.

2. Show us an object in your daily life that you have an emotional attachment to - tell us a little bit about it if you want! (a favourite mug perhaps? socks with a cute pattern? dealers choice)

Mugs (plural) probably is the best answer to this, but I've already tackled that at great length here. What else... well, my main bookmark, given to me by a friend and depicting a scholar I respect very much, has lasted an impressively long time im humble o:

3. If you could choose, what level of fame would you want? How many people would you want to recognise you?

Impossible to imagine strangers randomly approaching me in the street to start conversations being anything other than nightmarish, so the ceiling has to be below that. I guess there's different types of fame that presumably make for very different experiences, a famous actor probably gets a rawer deal than an equivalently famous author, and the type of famous author whose demographic is such that self-promoting on instagram and twitter is part of the job description surely has a worse life than one who doesn't have to do that.

Someone who knows more about the culture than me could probably say exactly what kind of thing you should be famous for to minmax getting all the pleasant-feeling respect and financial rewards while preserving privacy and minimizing unpleasant public obligations, but I'm not sure what the answer is. However this comic still pops into my head occasionally after all this time and it might be a better answer than any of these words:

4. Where do you feel language is least adequate to capture, communicate, or express your experience?

Actually I don't often get the feeling that my difficulties in expressing myself are related to the limitations of language, I tend to run into more mundane constraints before that one becomes an issue, like my embarrassment around talking about myself or my not being in tune with my own mental life or the fact that my brain is very small. I think generally if something's too subtle to put into words it's too subtle for me to think clearly about/have anything worth saying about in the first place.

I guess my other possible answer to this would be "all of my experience of life in its entirety" which is also true in a way.

5. If you had to come up with a question with the following criteria:

a) it should disuade knee-jerk reaction answers (i.e. it shouldn't be something people are likely to have spent a lot of time considering before)

b) it shouldn't be too specialised (the audience should be general, don't ask about people's top 3 byzantine spice merchants opperating between 754AD-816AD)

c) it shouldn't be needlessly emotionally charged or divisive

d) it should be a question you expect people to have lots of varied opinions about

What would your question be?

Yeah no it's hard, you've done well. My first thought with criteria A (which I think is the hardest one to cover) is to make the question require describing somebody else's perspective on something, because that way even if the answerer has their own knee-jerk opinion about the thing they'd be forced to suspend that in their answer. Maybe something like this would work:

Think of a topic that somebody close to you has very different feelings about from your own--it can be the smallest, most trivial matter of taste or something weightier if you like--what do you think is the relevant difference between you and this person that explains your different takes on that topic?

I would hope that if this question were in an ask meme like this people would tend to focus on fun and/or lighthearted differences but maybe it would turn people's brains towards bitter conflicts, I'm not sure. Anyway I'm glad question 5 doesn't end with "...and what is your answer to that question?" because it looks difficult to me!

---

This was fun imo, some of the questions were more intimidating than is the norm for these things but what's wrong with a little spice you know, I recommend it, thank you @perdvivly for erecting this jungle gym of the soul. I'm following the same coward's strat as last time of picking people sort-of-randomly by tagging the last three mutuals to show up in my notifications, this time excluding the three I tagged last time, so that gives @fregolious, @abodywithorgans and @wellmetmat. I'd like to hear from you! If the random method somehow gave people I didn't want to hear from I would have had no qualms about fudging it until I got people I liked, so don't let that put you off! But also, again, any mutuals who feel like doing this and claiming that I tagged them should do so, because in spirit I have, you understand.

[broken-clover]

Five Animated Moments (+1 book) That Terrified me as a Kid

Happy Halloween! It's one of my favorite holidays, the time where we all relish in all things spooky.

I love horror media! But that wasn't always the case. As a kid, I was easily scared by...damn, probably easier to make a list of what *didn't* creep me out. Even stuff designed specifically for kids tended to scare me beyond what was probably reasonable. And, looking back on it, a lot of those moments come off as innocent or straight-up ridiculous as an adult, but even knowing that, you can still remember the bone-chilling terror it brought you when you were a child who didn't know better.

I enjoy it whenever I see people on the internet make videos or discuss their traumatic childhood shows and movies, so I thought it'd be fun to make a little list of my own! If anything, it can be reassuring to see that we all had a dumb moment or two that our little-kid brains were mortally terrified of, no matter how stupid it might have been. Scenes are in no particular order, aside from #1 (and if you've been around for a while, you probably already know what it is)

List below for compactness:

#5- The filter scene (Finding Nemo)

Feels like most people have that one moment in a Disney or Pixar moment that stuck with them. Mine is...I wouldn't say 'unusual,' but it's not one I see brought up super frequently. And, oddly, there are times where I'll straight-up forget this scene exists. But whenever it came on when I was little, I'd be terrified.

Finding Nemo came out when I was about four, and it was one of my childhood favorites. I loved animals, and I loved movies with animals, so I watched it over and over. I'd quote it at day camp and pretend I was one of the movie's characters whenever I went swimming. Doesn't mean it didn't still scare the shit out of me, though.

For those who haven't seen the movie, or don't remember, the filter scene occurs partway through the movie in the dentist's office. As part of the plan to escape the tank, Nemo has to jump out of the water and into the filter box to jam the fan, before swimming back to the tank through the fan tube.

rewatching it now, I can see why it set me off. The combination of the tube's claustrophobia and the imminent threat of being torn apart is a scary thing. The sound design doesn't help- the harsh grating noise of the fan and the sound of nervous breathing echoed off of the narrow path just makes everything more uncomfortable.

#4- Maurice Meets the Beast (Beauty and the Beast)

Here's, at least, one I see talked about more often. Which is good, because it should be.

Disney Princess movies were another childhood favorite of mine, a love fostered by my maternal grandmother, who loved princess stories even more than I did. I grew up with all the classics, and I watched them over and over again. Didn't mean they still didn't terrify me every time, though...

At least this one was *supposed* to be terrifying, as the audience's first up-close scene with the beast after the intro.

Like with the Nemo scene, I think sound factors a lot into what makes this so scary. The thunder, voices and steps echoing off the empty castle walls, and, of course, the snarling roars. The moments of levity between the arrival and the beast's appearance I think actually enhance the horror due to the whiplash. The moment the situation seems to turn safe and inviting, it's suddenly wrenched away and made all the more worse.

#3- Video-Man (Spider-Man and his Amazing Friends)

So if the last two were a little too mainstream, here's something a little out of left field. So far out, apparently, that I can't even find a good video example to show off.

I grew up in the early 2000's. There were plenty of good superhero cartoons to watch: Justice League, Static Shock, Teen Titans, and if you wanted to dip back into the 90's, there were absolute classics like BTAS, X-Men, and Freakazoid!

Did I watch any of these growing up?

No.

I had 'Spiderman and his Amazing Friends.'

For those unfamiliar, it was a 1981 cartoon in a similar art style to the Spiderman solo series released the same year. It starred the titular character alongside Iceman and OC-made-for-the-show Firestar going on adventures. I watched all three seasons on DVD whenever we went to visit my grandparents. Though I can't say for certain where it originated from, my best guess is that the DVD rips originally belonged to my father and were just lying around at my grandmother's house. I recently rewatched the series after about twenty years and was amazed at how many episodes I remembered...and how stiff the animation was. God, the 80's-ness of the whole thing seeps into every cel.

The copious amount of intro information is both to explain the series and to hold off for as long as I can the fact that as a kid I was scared shitless of this idiot

This, as the title suggests, is Video-Man, another of the show's OC's. Given that this came out in the 80's, where arcades were popular and video games were becoming more publicly widespread, I can only guess he was made to try and capitalize on the trend. And jesus christ did they try, because in this one series they tried to introduce him three goddamn times. Once as a creation of Shocker, once as a hero, and once as an entity from a corrupted arcade cabinet. All three were episodes I found unnerving, but the last one is the one that haunted me...which is funny, because it has the least Video-Man even in it!

In season 2 episode 1, 'The Origin of the Iceman, there's a point partway through where J. Jonah Jameson is zapped into Video-Man's arcade cabinet in a junkyard. Upon realizing what's happened, he starts walking down an endlessly repeating hallway.

And that's it. Literally that's all that happens. For Video-Man himself, I can kinda get what freaked me out, his simplistic design and strange movements do feel a little uncanny, but the fact that I was terrified by a blank looping hallway for years is harder to explain. Even if I did have a clip to show everyone, I don't think it would make much more sense.

#2- Literally Goddamn Everything (Jimmy Neutron)

Ahh, 2000's TV cgi. In retrospect I can appreciate some of the strides made during the time, but ironing out the rough spots takes time and effort, and in the process, you might scar some kids.

I hated this show. I'm sure it's good, but kid-me was never able to get past the instinctive uneasiness I had for the animation. I mostly watched traditional animation, though I'd seen Pixar movies, so I knew what that sort of animation *was,* yet I still could never watch the show without discomfort. The animation was too exaggerated in the strangest places, the movements were 'off' in a way I couldn't describe, and some of the concepts it pulled out for episodes didn't help in making things feels any less creepy.

If I have to narrow it down from 'everything,' I have clear, crisp memories of every time the episode 'Sheen's Brain' came on, I would flee the room.

#1- Larry-Boy and the Fib from Outer Space! (Veggietales)

Again, if you know me well enough, you probably saw this coming.

Princess movies, Pixar, superhero cartoons...and Veggietales. All my childhood staples. And, in hindsight, I still have a fondness for all of them. Disney and Pixar had some beautiful art and fun stories, spiderman might have been cheesy, but it was still fun and creative, and Veggietales is a Christian series I'll still give praise to, because it actually felt like it was trying to impart good values onto kids, and it could still be silly while doing it. In addition to bible stories, there were all sorts of pop-culture pastiches, like the Larry-Boy episodes.

And that's where we get into this. The Larry-Boy episodes tended to get the most outlandish and creative since the creators were working within the absurd realm of superhero media. Hence, in order to create an episode about the importance of honestly and why lying is bad, THEY TURNED IT INTO A GIANT MANEATING ALIEN THAT ALMOST KILLS THE MAIN CHARACTER

And, trust me, as an adult I fully recognize how goddamn stupid the whole thing sounds. I think the early CGI contributed a fair bit to it. Veggietales generally managed to avoid the uncanny valley due to it intentionally using simplistic, limbless characters. Even with as blobby as it is, the fib monster is a lot more detailed than most of the series' characters around the time, so maybe it gave me of an opportunity be be uncanny.

The reason it gets to be #1 so easily is because it absolutely had the most profound level of terror to me. I was once so terrified of this episode that I took our VHS copy of it and stuffed it behind the TV stand and tried to force my mom to sell it at the annual garage sale so I didn't even have to look at the cardboard jacket with the fib's face on it. Something about this purple lump of bastard gave me regular nightmares for much longer than it had any goddamn right to.

Bonus Book!

In an attempt to salvage any dignity I have here, my bonus example is something I still think is genuinely horrifying nowadays.

Let me introduce you to David Shannon's 'A bad Case of Stripes,' a book that took such a simple moral of 'be yourself and like what you like' to the most inexplicably body-horror end possible.

The book follows a girl named Camilla, who enjoys lima beans despite none of her friends liking them. In order to fit in, she pretends to hate them, too. Soon after, she appears to come down with a strange disease, turning her skin rainbow-striped, as the cover shows. When she goes to school, her skin starts turning into more colors and patterns, to her classmates' amusement. Definitely weird, and the art style is a bit uncanny, but nothing too bad, right?

AND THEN THE BOOK JUST GOES NUTS

As doctors try to find the cause of her condition, Camilla starts shafting into more and more bizarre forms based on what they hypothesize the reason. She's entirely lucid and conscious as her body malforms and starts sprouting these random additions

the climax of the book occurs when a meditation specialist suggests that Camilla try to relax and 'become one with the room' TO WHICH THIS CHILD FUCKING FUSES TO THE FURNITURE OF HER HOUSE.

Imagine being, say, five or so, being introduced to this book. I didn't really understand what body horror was in any capacity, I had never even conceptualized the idea of a human becoming something like this in such a visceral way. The art does do a lot of the legwork, but the fact that the narrative by itself goes to such lengths absolutely makes it unique, but unique in a 'Mr. Shannon are you sure you should be writing for children' way.

Happy Halloween everyone. Jesus fucking christ.

[bluiex]

@justfor2am Having Fae AU thoughts on the brain again guys.

So this is getting into some ideas of what type of Fae Scar is.

tw... it's Fae Scar so yeah...

-

Perhaps this should scare Mumbo more than it does. How else Scar can go from threatening to sweet. How he can strange fear in Mumbo's heart one moment, then make him laugh the next at his comments. One such comment was how Scar went on a rant about how evil socks were and they were just 'bad texture'.

"Honestly how can you mortals even stand to wear clothing is beyond me. It's stuff, itchy, likes to rub in places it really shouldn't."

It was bewildering, but amusing at the same time. Mumbo did laugh a few times, catching how Scar's eyes would gleam at his laughter. Complimenting him on his voice, and how pretty it would sound if he could sing for him all the time without rest.

The good feeling was gone as quick as it came, reminding Mumbo where he was.

Mumbo found days when he wasn't in the Gardens getting lost for hours... days?... he was in the Library, trying to learn all he could about the fae. Their customs, and what to expect with Scar... or any escape at all even if Grian told him it was pointless.

The library was fancy, impressive, books in elvish tongue to dwarf tongue as well. Some were from the mortal world, others weren't. And Mumbo did was he could to learn about how he could not make his stay worse with Scar.

He felt silly when he read up about Elves and Fae, it was easy now to see the differences between them. Something he missed in the dark of the night when Scar invited him to his manor.

'Fae beings often do not have a gender, they assign themselves one at their own will. They can change forms as easily as a human changes their clothing. Some have wings, some do not. Depending on the fae you are dealing with, is dependent on the power they have.'

Mumbo looked at the picture of very naked beings with elongated faces, large eyes, and sharp teeth. Pretty wings like crystals, and some having tails. They were hauntingly beautiful.

'Fae deal in illusion magics, deals, and offers. In exchange for something they will give you something in return. They can appear mortal, elf, or anything to give what they desire, but traits can bleed through, too large smiles, too focused eyes, and words that make you shiver.

There are 4 kingdoms and 2 courts. Following the seasons the fae work in cycles. Summer Fae: Fun loving beings with sunkissed features and warm magic. Spring Fae: Flower beings with vines that grow out of their skin and mossy hair. Autunm Fae: Silver tongue creatures who bring with them the change of the leaves. and Winter Fae: Cold hearted beings, with ice in their souls and hard eyes.

There are 2 courts, The Autunm and Winter fae make up the Unseelie Court, known for trickery, curses, twisted games, and monstrous looks. And the Spring and Summer fae, more fair than their colder counterparts, loving games, riddles, poems, and song.'

Mumbo looked at the pictures and felt his heart sank, Scar was hitting on the check marks of a Autunm Kingdom Fae. From his warm browns, reds, and oranges, to his deals he makes and how he carries himself. From the description, and what he sees here, Scar might also be a Noble Court Fae. Higher up in the system. This would explain how and why he can so easily kidnap humans and not many fae come around here.

He felt sick, he was dealing with something that wanted to see him try and play games, only to keep failing. A fae who enjoys watching him in vain try to escape, and would love to mess with him more.

Despair sat in his heart as he sat back on the way to comfortable chair. Scar was something else, something dangerous and scary, yet had also a funny laugh and stories to tell. Words having a way of weaving into Mumbo's head and making him feel wanted. He hated it so much, he wanted to cry.

Stories told to him as a child said once the Fae take you there was no hope of escaping. The mortal realm would forget your name, as the fae uses it, and time would become nothing. Mumbo hugged his knees closer to him, feeling tears start to fall. And small sobs escaped his mouth as he just wanted to go home.

It was silent in the room, until a hand started to pet his hair. "Shhh, don't cry my dear." Scar's voice purred to him, "I didn't want tears." Mumbo's felt a hand tilt his chin up to look at the face of the other. A thumb brushing away the tears so gently. "there we are, come and eat now, it'll make you feel better." Scar coos to him, his voice so deceptively sweet and soft. Mumbo was too tired to argue as he lets Scar pull him out of his seat and down the hall. Fae food was the sweetest thing you could ever taste, but it came at the price of human food turning to ash in your mouth. Yet another reason he could never go home. Once you ate from the fae, nothing would ever be good enough again.

Scar petted his cheek again, "Eat up my dear, you look so hungry." he coos, a smile on his face, sharp and hiding shark like teeth. Eyes intense as they watch Mumbo sit down.

Grian was starving himself rather than eating, Mumbo didn't know if had the will to do that. If you've already ate it once, what was the point? He felt exhausted.

Silently he did eat something, and maybe he was tired, but he did like the way Scar smiled when he did eat.

LORE. I love that Mumbo chooses to learn and try to find out all he can about fae (in hopes he can find a way to escape) but OUGH MY HEART. He just wanna go home- but it's a bit too late he's eaten the food.. Mumbo finding himself slowly become more an more infatuated With Scar. Wanting nothing more than to see him smile or hear his laugh

[matenrou-fan]

Can I request some hcs where Rosho is dating sasara's sibiling that's also a comedian??

Rosho with Sasara's sibiling who's a comedian

GNreader, fluff, just wholesome stuff;;

-Oh no.. Rosho still doesn't understand how he ended up in this situation..

-Always scolding Sasara and acting like he's annoying him very much with his puns, yet falling in love with his sibling.. Is this some kind of irony?!

-And the fact that you're also a comedian just makes this all even worse better, as now not one but two of his closest people cling to him with their jokes.

"I swear.. is my life some kind of circus..?" - Rosho sighs, sitting with you in the evening in his house, absolutely drained after work.

"But aren't we both making your days more fun? Laughter is the best medicine..!" - you giggle, getting closer to your boyfriend and fixing one clump of his hair that fell to his eyebrows.

"Sasara's laughter and his antics probably makes my life shorter.. You're the only one who's made my day better.." - A small smirk escapes his lips as leans to your touch, enjoying your soft hands.

-Yes he would be much softer to you, even if you make the same terrible puns as your brother and also interrupt important conversations with it. Rosho just can't help but condone your silly behavior and actually enjoy it sometimes.

-Will try hard to restructure his schedule just to visit your shows. Not all, of course, but at least a few because he wants to watch your shine on stage. He still remembers his days in duo with Sasara and he knows how scary it can be, to speak in front of so many people..

-In some strange way it strokes his ego a little, as Rosho's pride arises in his chest when he hears loud applause for you. And of course he would support you from the crowd as the most loyal fan…!

-"Well? Did you enjoy it?" - a small proud grin lit your lips as your boyfriend got inside your dressing rooms after your performance.

"Of course.." - he mumbled and you got confused. Why is he suddenly so nervous? You do remember that Rosho doesn't really like large audiences, maybe he gets a little bit anxious..?

But instead he pulls from behind his back a big bouquet of your favorite flowers. His red face matches his gift absolutely perfectly, as he shyly gives it to you with an awkward smile.

"H-here.. For your hard work.. You have an ability to cheer up people around you, and I thought.." - for a moment your boyfriend gets silent, then a trembling sigh escapes his lips. - ".. that someone should cheer you up too.. sometimes.."

-Rosho would try to support you till the very end, ignoring your brother's whines for being too cruel with him at the same time, because, as your boyfriend, he's willing to do anything to see his little star shining at fullest.

-You cheerful smile and bright eyes as you run to him with a list of new puns and ideas for your shows when he gets home after work is so heartwarming. Only you can make him feel this exciting feeling in his chest, and even if you would shout or yell in joy, his head will not hurt as it always starts when he hears his students fooling around during class changes.

-Listening as you bubble about your day or read these jokes for him it's now his favorite way to relieve stress after work. Your voice soothes his soul, and all his problems melt when he hears your sincere laugh.

"Aaand…that's it!" - you close your notebook, now looking at your boyfriend who was laying on your lap, resting.

"Mm.. the last one was good.." - he chuckled, opening his eyes and smiling softly.

"You think so? When I told it to Sasara, he fell on the floor from laughter.." - you mumble, then titter a little. - "Don't you think that it's weird that he, as a comedian, can't stand jokes?"

"Oh? Then I think I'm also going to fall.." - Rosho snorted and got up a little. - "But only because I can't stand how cute you are when you giggle like this.."

With these words he pushes you to the couch and lays down with you together, embracing you in his hug.

"Oh, Rosho..! You just copy my joke.." - you mumble with furrowed brows, feeling as blush spreading on your cheeks.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm not good at that.." - he laughs, a very rare occasion, and you can't help but smile again too. - "But I'm ready to apologize with my cuddles.. Or it wouldn't be enough?"

"It will take no less than a few kisses for you to receive my forgiveness..!" - you huff playfully, and Rosho immediately leans closer, placing soft quick kisses on your cheek.

"I'm ready to do even more than that, darling..."

[whatimdoing-here]

weird personal update under cut, mostly for those who've been around awhile. i guess i can put an intro too.

honestly there are so many new followers here i'm assuming for gif reasons but... like.. sorry guys. it's a fairly rare thing. others do them better and quicker than me for the most part. my poor 7 year old laptop i make them on is a struggle. new person intro to me below, but first let me get to the part where i journal so it's off my chest.

i use tumblr as a journal of sorts. and honestly it's thanks to tumblr in general i started questioning my sexuality when i was in my mid 20s. living in a very white, conservative state - even if you live in a liberal family, that shit just gets ingrained. i was never homophobic or anything, just didn't consider anything other than straight an option. long story short, figured the bi was the best label for me at that time, definitely made me feel better, and more like myself. my partner (husband) was like yeah that's cool all good i support you let me know if you need anything from me and it's been great since.

another... long-ish story in a shorter form... i started struggling the last year or two with all of it again. just feelings and s.x feelings and whatever, a big reason of why i started therapy. basically come to the decision i land on the ace spectrum somewhere. i know much less about being asexual, and it definitely doesn't feel as "good" coming to this realization. i think i probably fall close to the demi- label. but labels and feelings are hard. and since 1) i'm pretty uneducated and 2) no one wants to hear about my sx life, i'm not going to go into things. i just wanted to throw out there that... i'm still figuring shit out. this convo with m was a lot harder, went a lot worse. then there was a better second convo. he's still supportive, it's just harder for reasons that are personal to him so i won't delve into. our relationship is okay, he doesn't want to open our marriage, and not much has changed honestly. i'm still trying to figure out my boundaries, and where my 'am i doing this because i want to or feel like i have to' lines are. it's... not fun. adding to that that if things ever came to the point where our marriage wouldn't work... that completely changes not only my life in a large way, but the kids, and m's. that is the fuckin scariest thing. sexuality discovery would be way less scary if i wasn't scared it will eventually negatively affect people in my life. i'm very much a "i will accept this thing that's not great for me and be quiet to keep the calm and happiness of those around me" in most cases. i don't like taking up space for myself. it's been a rough couple months.

anyway if i had to label i'd go with biromantic, asexual (with some ace labels i may or may not ever figure out)

getting older is a fuckin trip. you think you should know what you want and who you are but no one really knows. and life changes us and we discover more about who we are. for those newbies that are not even 20... your 20s and 30s are great. just... be prepared to shift and change and evolve and be okay with that.

anyway. new folks. i'm alex. i live in the middle of the us. i have two kids (boys, 8 and 5) that... i've been on tumblr longer than either of them have been alive. i work from home in (broadly) a data role within a corporation. i enjoy my work, its flexibility, and just data in general. give me numbers. i've been married for 14 years this june, and i'll be 34 in july.

i watch nwsl and uswnt for sports mostly. working on reading more novels again. obviously my tv obsessions are clear within minutes of looking at my blog. i talk parent stuff too sometimes, it's obviously a big part of who i am, but i'll leave their names and pics off the blog for their safety. i'll show my stupid face here though. sometimes i'll talk about seizures (i have them occasionally, unfortunately, and my brain isn't feeling great right now) and other medical stuff if it's bothering me because this place really is like a journal release for me. i hold some stuff back but yeah. i'll tag with 'personal nonsense' if you want to mute. sometimes i post and delete because i read it again later and decide no one needs to read that shit.

you're always welcome to say hi. i'm fairly harmless, but also keep walls up until i know you better.

uhhh i think that's it. mmmbye

[c-is-for-circinate]

Wait, isn't "anti" stuff more like "anti-pedophilia" and stuff? Like, you have a point about anti-porn attitudes, but from what I've heard just "anti" on its own means against stuff like kid porn and incest porn and legitimately f*cked up sh*t like that.

Okay!  So this, I think, is actually a great example of what I was talking about, and a really useful thing to understand.  (CW rape, child abuse, etc)

Smarter people than me have written much better essays about why policing thoughtcrimes is a bad road to go down, and I will probably reblog some of them next time they cross my dash for more context.  What I want to talk about is the trigger mechanism, the ‘oh, this looks like danger!!!’ immune response in how we look at different kinds of porn, and how that applies to anti culture.

Here’s the thing: I am anti-pedophilia.  I think that, for most people, that’s a stance that largely goes without saying!  Adults who prey on children are bad.  I’m also against incest; relatives who prey on their family members are bad.  Above all I oppose rape.  Sexual predation of any kind is bad.  In fact, I’d say that’s the most important item on the list.  There is plenty of room to argue about where the lines are between ‘adult’ and ‘child’ and how teenagers fit in the middle, and there’s plenty of room to get historical about the lines between ethically terrible incest, distasteful-but-bearable “aristocratic inbreeding” between distant cousins, and the kind of consanguinity that tends to develop in a small town where everyone’s vaguely related to everyone else by now anyway.  The core of the issue is consent, and it has always been consent.  Pedophilia and incest are horrific because they are rape scenarios where the abuser has far more power and their victim far fewer resources to cope, both practically and emotionally; because harm to children is, to us as a culture, worse than harm to adults, for a lot of very valid reasons; and because they constitute betrayal of trust the victim should have been able to put in their abuser as well as rape--but they are all rape scenarios, and that’s why they’re awful. 

These things are bad.  It is good for us to have a social immune response system that recognizes these things when they’re happening and insists we step in.  That is a good thing to develop!  It helps us, as a society.  It can help the people being victimized.  It’s the same reason educators and childcare workers in the US are all mandated reporters, why we do background checks on people working near kids.  These things happen, and they’re terrible, and it’s good that we try to be aware and prepared for them.  (Though obviously studies show we’re a lot less good at protecting the vulnerable than we’d like to pretend we are.)

The question is: why does that same social immune response trigger, and trigger so angrily, in response to fiction?

Anti culture is fundamentally an expression of that social immune response.  Specifically, it’s that social immune response when it is set off by a situation that, while it has some similarities to the very bad real-life crime of sexual predation including pedophilia and incest, is in and of itself harmless.

If you’re instinct is to flare up in anger or dismissiveness because I’m calling these things harmless, I want to ask you to just take a deep breath and bear with me for a bit longer.  What you’re feeling right now is an allergic reaction.

Humans tell and read and listen to stories about “legitimately fucked up shit” all the time.  It’s part of the human condition.  It’s part of how we process those things happening, not just to use, but to other people in the world around us.  It’s part of how we process completely unrelated fucked-up shit, playing with fears and furies and insecurities that we all have, through so may layers of fiction that we don’t even recognize them any more, playing with power dynamics in metaphor and making characters suffer for fun.  Aside from the fact that literally all stories do this to some extent or another; aside from the fact that drawing lines between ‘ok that’s good storytelling’ and ‘that’s too fucked-up to write about’ is arbitrary, subjective, and dangerous in its own right; aside from all of that, these stories are stories.  All of them. 

Even the ones about rape, about incest, about pedophilia.  They’re words on a page.  No real children were harmed, touched, or even glanced at in the making of this work of fiction.  This story, pornographic though it may be, is part of a conversation between consenting adults.  (And if a teenager lies about their age to consent, that is a different problem altogether.)

Stories in and of themselves, no matter what they’re about, are no more dangerous than a crate full of oranges.  Which is to say: utterly harmless, unless all you have to eat is oranges, all day every day, and you find yourself dying slowly of nutrient deficiency--which is why representation matters.  Or unless someone wields one deliberately, violently, as a tool to cause harm, and someone gets acid in their eye--which is the fault of the person holding the orange. And unless you happen to be allergic to citrus.

The key here is this twofold understanding:  First, the thing that hurts you can also have value to others.  Real, legitimate value.  Whether you’ve undergone trauma and certain story elements are straight-up PTSD triggers or you just don’t like orange juice, that story, those tropes, that crate of oranges may be somewhere between icky and fundamentally abhorrent--but we understand that that is still your reaction.  Even if you don’t understand how anybody could ever enjoy it; even if every single person you surround yourself with is as sensitive and disgusted and itchy about this thing that makes your eyes hurt and your throat stop working as you; that doesn’t make it true for everyone.  That doesn’t make oranges poisonous.  No real children were involved in the writing of this story.  It is words on a page.

But, secondly: the thing that has value to others can also hurt you.  Just because a story isn’t inherently poison doesn’t mean it can’t cause you, personally, pain.  That’s what a PTSD trigger is: an allergic reaction, psychological anaphylaxis, a brain that’s trying so hard to protect its own from a threat that isn’t actually present (but was once, and the brain is trained to respond) that it causes far more harm and misery than the trigger itself possibly could.  And no, it’s not just people with PTSD who sometimes get hurt by stories.  There are many, many ways a story can poke the part of your brain that says, this is Bad, I don’t like this, I don’t want to be here.  The story is still, always, every time, pixels on a screen and ink on paper.  The story causes no physical harm.  But it can poke your brain into misery, it can stir up your emotions, it can make you want to cringe and run away.  It can make you want to scream and fight and go after the author who brought this thing into existence.  It can make you hurt.

This is an allergic reaction.  This is your brain and body, your reflexes and instincts, trying to protect you from something that isn’t really happening.  And just like a literal allergic reaction, it can do actual harm to you if it gets set off.  This is real.  The fact that stories can upset you to the point of pain and mental/emotional injury is real, even though it’s coming from your own brain and not the story itself.  There are stories you shouldn’t read.  There are stories I shouldn’t read, regret reading, will never read, because they hurt me.  That doesn’t mean they’re the same stories that would hurt you.  That doesn’t mean they don’t have value.

And, finally:

If getting upset about stories is fundamentally an individual person’s allergic reaction, their brain freaking out and firing off painful survival instincts in the face of a thing that isn’t, in and of itself, a threat?  Then the anti movement is a cultural allergic reaction.

Fandom as a whole has a pretty active immune system, which doesn’t mean we have a good immune system.  We try very hard to be aware of all the viruses and -isms and abuse and manipulation and cruelty, both systematic and individual, that exists around and within our community.  We’re primed and ready to shout about things at all times.  The anti movement is that system, that culture, screaming and shouting and fighting at a harmless thing on a grand scale.  It wants to stop that thing, that scary awful thing that trips all of its well-primed danger sensors, at all costs.  It’ll swell up and block off our airways (our archives) if it has to.  It’ll turn on the body it came from.  It’s scared and protective and trying to fight, and it’s ready to fight and destroy itself.

Luckily, fans and fanfic and fandom and fan culture are a lot bigger and older than they often get credit for, and it’s not like these cultural allergies are anything new.  We could talk about shippers and slashers in the X-Files fandom in the 90s.  We could talk about the birth of fandom in the days of Star Trek.  We could talk about censorship and book burning going back centuries.  We survived that and we’ll survive this, too.

But god, does the anti movement my throat and eyes itch.  Man is it irritating, and sometimes a little suffocating, to realize how many stories just aren’t getting told out of fear of what the antis will say.  And that’s the real danger, I think.  What are we losing that would have so much value to someone?  What are we missing out?

[mendesblurb]

Imagine reader x shawn trying to spiced up their sex life by exploring things together because they feel like they are young and shouldn’t be doing just vanila stuff with each other (smut + fluff)

The Art of Experimenting

Shawn Mendes x female reader

Word Count: ~3.3k

Warning ⚠️: smut, maybe grammar error and maybe some punctuation errors.

A/N: honestly kinda not sure how this story turned out, feedback and comments will be very much appreciated ♥️

//

“Can I ask you something?” Shawn said, sliding onto the stool across the table from you.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye,“Always,” You replied, “Is everything alright?”

Shawn knew he was probably going to regret bringing this topic up. But imagining the thought of not having to ask you about it was just going to consume his thoughts all day long, unless he actually made an attempt.

“Yeah, yeah,” He sighed, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I…I was just thinking. How about we actually consider doing what the article said?”

“What?!” You dropped the spoon in your hand to the table, leaning over it, your head on your arms. “I’m sorry,” you chuckled, “I can’t tell whether you are joking or not.”

“I am not joking, I swear.” He laughed, “It's just the article we read last week that said a bunch of things and I can’t help but be curious on what would actually be like for us to do it. At first, I didn’t think about it but then there is this curious part of me.

You knew what article he meant.

About a week ago, he was walking into his bedroom, with you sprawled on the bed, reading a magazine and enjoying the rare day off.

“What’re you reading?” Shawn asked softly, sliding into bed next to you. Placing the magazine on the nightstand, you turned to look at him.

“Nothing important. Just one of those magazine articles.”

“What was it about?” He chuckled, scooting closer to put his arm around you as you relaxed your head on his shoulder. After fidgeting with a few loose lint strands of his sweater, you spoke in a quiet voice, “Okay, fine. It was about these four things you should consider doing with your partner to spice up your sex life.”

“I mean, yeah. I have to admit that it is a little scary, while also giving me some type of adrenaline I have never ever felt before. I’ll admit that there is this part of me that is curious about it too.” You sighed, “But… I..I.just don’t know.”

You and Shawn are still in this new, blossoming relationship stage. You two had obviously done the deed, several pleasurable times actually and it has always been great.

But, out of all the things out there, you still refer back to the plain, old, vanilla missionary. It was basic, yet efficient, and it was always able to give both of you the much needed contact that you both carved from each other.

“I’m sorry,” he suddenly said, stepping around the end of the table to stand beside you. He turns his hand to meet yours, interlocking his fingers with yours, holding tight, “Forget I ever said anything, we definitely don’t have to do anything you are not comfortable with,” Still holding your gaze, his other hand reaches out and touches your cheek, “It was just a random thought in the back of my head, I didn’t mean to force you to make you uncomfortable. We can just forget about it, it was just a stupid thou-.”

“It’s not that,” you sighed, your forehead resting against his chest. “I..I…W-what if I am actually bad at it or worse I hurt you while we do those kinds of new things?”

Shawn pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You could never, Y/N,” he reassured you, “Think of it as just adding features to what we regularly do. Besides, if we don't like any of it or one of us feels uncomfortable, we will immediately stop and just never do it again.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. It won't hurt to give it a try, right?” You replied, chuckling lightly.

“Yeah, exactly. But again, if all of this sounds ridiculous or you feel uncomfortable. We can just forget about It.”

“No, no! we don’t have to do that.” You smiled, cupping his face in your palms, “I want to do it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” you smiled again, “Let’s explore it together.”

One

Shawn leans against the doorframe of the kitchen, head slightly tilted as he watches you, his eyes travelling down your body. A smile spread across his lips as he stood there and stared at you for a second longer before he slowly walked towards you.

“It's nearly midnight,” You heard him mumble behind you as his hands slid around your waist, “What are you doing awake?”

“I got hungry.” you giggle, turning around to face him and hop on to the counter before placing the bowl of strawberries and melted chocolate next to you.

“Wanna taste?” You asked, taking a small dollop of chocolate, and letting it rest on your index finger.

Shawn nods, guiding your finger to his mouth where he wraps his lips around your finger, licking the chocolate off, and swirling his tongue around the tip of your finger.

“Hmm…” Releasing your finger with a pop, he gazes back at you, “Taste a little sweet to me.” He says, a sultry intent painting his features, resting his hands on your waist and tilting his head to the side, teasingly.

“But, chocolate has never tasted better.” He continued saying, as he slowly started peppering soft kisses up the column of your neck, and slowly lifting your shirt over your head.

“Oh really?

“Yeah..” he chuckles, dipping two fingers into the melted chocolate before slowly, deliberately running them across your neck and chest.

“Mhmmm...” You hummed as he lowered his head to catch a droplet of chocolate trekking down your skin, “Shawnn..ooh!”

Goosebumps fan across your skin as his tongue excites your nerves. He was standing close to you, lingering, taking his time peppering you with kisses, and gently nipping at your skin, and trapping you between his body and the counter, before kissing your lips deeply, “You are the best dessert I have ever tasted.” He says when he got to your face and connected your lips with his.

You chuckle, melting into his kiss, and wrapping your arms around his neck. He’s never kissed you like this before, like he can’t get enough of your body or your taste for that matter.

"Shawn—" your voice dissolves into a whimper when his teeth scrape your skin. His hands grasp you firmly, touching every inch of exposed skin he can, tugging on your hair and pleasant shudders run across your body when he grabs your hips, pulling you hard.

Your trembling hand ran through his hair. You hiss through clenched teeth when he kisses reach your shoulder, head falling back and arching against him. You shivered, goosebumps fanning against your skin again as the heat of his mouth kissed your jaw, your neck, nipping at your shoulder before hooking his fingers under your bra straps, slid them down off your arms and unhooked the clasp. Eventually, throwing it to the floor and finally reaching the top of your breast.

His tongue tenderly licked up every drop of chocolate as he circled around you, taking his time tasting you,“Mmmmm, Shawn…” you shudder as he fervently kisses your neck again, the cold air, the smell of chocolate and the heat of his body trapping you close, somehow only filling you up with more rush of pleasure.

His hands move to cup one of your breasts, before roaming your backside to pull you closer, and eventually settling to tease, and leave kisses down your neck. Your whole body thrills with electricity as you could only shudder and let out sharp gasps like sounds.

“Mark me, Shawn.”

“Are you sure?” He pulls back at your statement, looking you in the eye, “Yes.” You nodded your head, taking his hand to move it through your hair, guiding him to yank it back fully before exposing your throat.

Shawn wasted no time, leaning his head forward again and started running his tongue up and down, sucking and scraping his teeth against your pulse point.

Two

Pulling your hand up until it was near the bedpost, Shawn began trailing his lips down to your neck as he wrapped the handcuff link around the bedpost.

“Are you sure about this?” He spoke in a low voice, nose was practically touching yours as he looked for any sign that you didn’t want to continue, “I need you to tell me if I do something that you don’t like, okay? I don’t want to hurt or make you uncomfortable. Don’t be afraid to talk about anything, okay?”

“Okay.” You reply, nodding your head.

He smiled, taking in your approval and wasting no time to move his lips to yours, while gently grabbing your other wrist, putting the other cuff on your wrist, and clicking it shut.

You bite your lip as his mouth goes to your neck, and you tip your head back at the feeling of his teeth scraping gently against the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

Your body shivers at the feeling of his touch, as he moves his hands down to feel the crevasses of your hips. “Shawn…ooh!” You could feel him move his head in between your legs due to the hair tickling your inner thighs.

You could feel his breath tickling against your entrance, as he tugs your underwear as he continues leaving a trail of kisses down your chest and stomach again. Then, when his face moves downwards again, disappearing from the view. The moment his lips touched you once again, a small moan left you. Even a small lick on your slit was enough to keep you away from being quiet.

“Shawn,Ooohh. I-I..”

You feel your walls clenching around him, as he continues pleasuring you before feeling that your body is reaching its limit. He could tell you were seconds away from surrendering as your thighs shook around his head, and your breath became more and more shallow by the second.

“Oh, fuck, Shawn.”

All you could do was whimper, all while whispering his name over and over again like a prayer. He continues licking between your folds, sliding up to swirl around you. You screamed his name, over and over again until your mind fuzzy and only filled the pleasures he was giving you.

“Just let go, Y/N.”

Everything just came to a halt as your body surrendered to the pleasures he was giving you. You could only feel that familiar coil start to build, and your hands wanted to gripped his hair, but the handcuffs restricted you.

But regardless, everything felt hot and fiery, his tongue never ceasing to encourage you through your high and finally all you could do was throw your head back as pleasure envelopes you completely.

Three

You and Shawn stumble into your room, his hand working up and down your body. Your arm wraps around his neck, as he leans his forehead against yours,”I want you.” He mumbled.

“I want to make you feel good too.” Your mumble, as your lips deftly tugs and sucks at his ears, jawline, and neck, leaving a hot trail that makes him shudder. His eyes followed your every move as you began to leave kisses all over him before kneeling down the floor, unzipping and removing his pants and start kissing your way up his inner thigh.

“Y/N,Ooohh. I-I..”

Your mouth dragged along his skin and you relished in the way he quivered, just following the seam of his leg before doing the same on the other. Shawn let out a sigh of satisfaction and ran his hand through your hair as you took your time devouring him, worshiping his body, and making him lose all sense of coherence as his breaths were quick to turn into pants.

“Don’t stop, baby.”

“Never.” You say, continuing moving your lips to his body and began messily caressing the obvious bulge visible through his underwear. The feeling of cotton dragged against your finger made him huffed loudly before lifting his hips further into your touch.

You used your tongue and hand to work your magic, making him moan out and was fully taking your time, enjoying how more muffled noises began escaping his lips.

You then stand up, leaning in to kiss his lips again, both your tongues danced in harmony, tasting and exploring each. After a short while, you pull back breathlessly, catching your breath and giving him a small shove until the back of his knees bump up against the mattress, where he takes the hint to sit down.

"So? What are we trying?" he'd asked, moving himself backwards, until his back was pressed up against the headboard.

“This.” You say, reaching into your purse and pulls out a folded piece of cloth, and letting it unfurl.

“Is that a blindfold?”

“I thought maybe we could try to mix things up a little,” You giggled lightly,“What do you say?”

“I think you should…” Shawn smiles, caressing his hand to the bed, motioning for you to come join him, “You should come here then.”

You chuckle, happily settling on the bed, and your hands slowly grab the blindfold to cover his eyes before leaning in, and kiss him again, more softly this time. Your fingers were quick to drift down the corded muscle of his neck, before slipping lower, over his collarbone, and then moving to draw tantalising circles on his chest.

“Mmm..Y/N…”

“Shh..” you raise a finger to his lips, “let me tease you for once.”

You continue flicking, touching and squeezing his sensitive flesh through the soft fabric of his shirt until his back arches unconsciously. You lean forward, closer, and start planting a flutter of kisses over his chest, tempting warm skin under your lips and tongue. His hands seemed to flutter around you, unable to see what to touch, while you focused on leaving kisses on his chest.

“Mmmhmmm…” Shawn moaned, while you slid your hand between his legs, gently caressing along his length, “Y/nnnn…”

“I thought you might like that..” You said, laughing softly as you tug down his underwear, freeing him completely.

“Please, Y/N,” You heard him beg. You smiled slightly, loving that he was so weak at this moment.

“Patience, Mendes.” You say as you wrap your hand around his length. “Please no more teasing…baby..please,” he whimpers, messily reaching for you.

You smirk, seeing how he was desperately trying to grab a hold of you while his chest heaves as you continue teasing him. Shawn has just utterly lost to the pleasures you were giving him, he could only release a strangled moan as his one hand messily tangled into your hair and the other gripped your waist.

He was about to opened his mouth to say something but you didn’t give him a chance when you took his tip between your lips. His breath instantly hitches again and his hips buck forward as you begin to suck.

He just continues to grunts and groans again as you take more and more of him into your mouth, while wrapping your hand around what you can’t fit. His hips was throbbing against the feeling of your tongue, feeling the near of his release and it isn’t long before he curses, “Fuck, Y/N, oh fuck!” He groans, his voice rough.

“You can let go, Shawn.” You hum around him as you continue bobbing your head.

“Can’t,” He gasped. “Not now, not like this.”

“Whenever you are ready just let go.”

“I mean just not yet,” he whined. “I don’t want this to be over.”

You trace your lips to his thigh, and trace his chin with one hand. “This isn’t going to be the last time I do it for you, baby.” You said before you took him back into your mouth.

You sucked him again, every flick of your tongue was sending him closer and closer to the end. He was a mess all over again, the second you pulled a little harder while his hips flexed, and ran your index finger on that sensitive spot he has always had on his thigh,“Y/nn…I’m..I’m… ,ohhhh!” He surrendered, reaching his peak, and head fell back against the headboard.

Four

Grinning, Shawn takes your hand and leads you down to his room. He quickly pulls you inside and shuts the door behind you. Your arms were quick to move around his neck, your body closer to his, and lips brushing his, “I need you.”

He kisses you slowly, his arms wrapping around your waist,”Tell me what you want.” He smiles at you, resting his forehead against yours.

“Tell me what to do.” You press your lips to his and whisper against them, making him shudder, “I want you to control me, Shawn.”

His smile turns into a smirk, looking at you, something new in his gaze, and something different. It was cold and yet utterly heated at the same time.

“Strip.” he commands, voice still a whisper, but determined.

You cocked a brow at his sudden bluntness but obeyed regardless, pulling your shirt over your head before stepping out of your pants. Your hands swiftly snuck behind you, undoing your bra and letting them drop to the floor.

Your fingers then slid into the waistband of your underwear, teasing him as you slowly pulled at it, then bent to shove them off your ankles. “Like what you see?”

“Yes.” Shawn grinned,”Now, lie back on the bed.”

It sounded like a command more so than an invitation again, and yet you wouldn’t dream of disobeying. Lying flat on the bed, you look up at him.

“Part your legs.”

You comply within seconds, exposing yourself to the cold air.

“Touch yourself.”

You nodded, before fumbling in your eagerness to obey.

It was then, between your groans and moans, you caught a glimpse of him. He doesn’t seem to move to embrace you or get involved, he simply sits and watches you while you touch your body. For some reason, that fuels your desire even more.

“Shawn… please…” you panted, now engrossed, so focused on what you were doing that you didn’t even notice him stripping from his clothes.

“You said you want me to control you, didn’t you? So let me.”

“But, I don’t know how much longer I can last.”

He chuckles hearing that, then sighs, “Take your hands away and put them over your head.”

Done. Although you slightly whimper at the loss sensation on your body. But, you were quick to let out moan as your hands were quickly replaced by his, touching, stroking and teasing your body.

“Oh my god..Shawn..”

Shawn continues touching you, banking your pleasure until it’s burning out of control. And just when you think you’ll fall, he’s hovering over you, and it doesn't take long for both of you to be racing towards ecstasy, as he thrusts faster, harder and feeling totally out of control.

"Shawn," you moaned out his name as he thrusts even deeper inside you. "I...I"

“Uh- Y/N, you feel so- ugh- good!” He growled between moans. You wrapped your legs around his waist and dragged your nails down his back. Shawn then moves his hips into you at a much faster speed.

Everything seems to be blurry as the only thing you could do was grip on his shoulder, nails digging on his back as his rhythm got faster and deeper in you, “oh god.. can’t hold on much longer..”

“Let go Y/N, I’m here for you.”

“Shawn…I’m..I’m… ohhhh!” You scream as you finally hit your peak, the ache cresting and crashing in your body as you explode in sensation. The arching of your body, the snap of your hips and his hips, brought Shawn to his peak too as he moans and thrusts one more time, “Y/N!”

It feels as if fireworks consume you both, when your bodies are bucking, writhing with each other before he eventually slows down, collapsing on top of you and a few minutes later, disposing the condom to the trash can, getting a towel from the bathroom and strats cleaning you up before finally getting under the blanket to hold you close.

Thank you for reading guys... feel free to like, reblog, follow my account, leave a comment and my chat is always open for random chats or requests... appreciate every single one of you... ❤️

Taglist (open) : @monikamendes @holland-styles @bvttercupbby @lonelyreputation @badreputationlove @shawn-is-my-giant-jellybean @benito-mi-vida @swiftmendeshoran @yournameoneverypage @shawn-is-bruh @mendesbhraanth @perfectlywrongsm @imaginashawnn @smendes-forever @nervousmendes @whenyoureadyholland @shawn-youth @myboyshawn @camilalewiss @camilalewisss @theregoesmyherojd @nanijaac1 @shawnieeboyy @silverswallow @inlovewithmendes @mendeslol @mendesx123 @23kofmendes @jellyloml @chipofmendes @poohmendes @wutheringmendes @shawnmendesbuddy​ @chocochipcookie305

Story Code: 050322102

[venomous--fics]

Anon Requested: If requests are open, can I request something fluffy where the reader is on her period and Venom doesn’t know what’s going on and Eddie explains it to Venom?

A/n: Day 4 of 7 of the Venom Weekathon!! Almost to the end already? Doesn't seem fair, really. Anyways, feedback is always welcome and the inbox is open if you want or need anything!!

You were curled up on the couch, clutching onto one of the throw pillows for any type of support. You'd taken your painkillers, but they are taking their sweet time kicking in. The tv wasn't keeping your attention, as all you could think about was simply ripping your uterus out and just never dealing with it again.

"Eddie, she hasn't gotten up for hours. Is she dying. What do we do?"

"Calm down," Eddie said, grabbing the heating pad from the cabinet, "It's going to be fine."

"It's not fine. She was like this this same time last month." Venom wanted to come off as angry and scary, but he sounded more like a wounded puppy, "You're lying to me."

"Okay, you're right- About the month thing. But, remember? After a few days, she was alright?"

"Yes.."

"It.." Eddie paused, staring at the heating pad for a second before making his way to where you resided, "It's just a thing that happens."

You groaned a little as you shifted into a more comfortable position, kindly thanking Eddie for the heating pad.

"Can I get you anything else?" Eddie asked sweetly.

"Maybe a snack if that's no trouble."

"No trouble at all, love."

Eddie got up and walked to the kitchen, "See, she's gonna be just fine. She always is."

"But what IS it. What is making her feel this way all the time. Can we eat it?"

"Uhm," Eddie gave it a second long thought. A second too long, "I'd...No, we..We don't wanna do that."

"Answers."

"It's a bit complicated to explain...Do you want the long version or the short version?"

"I want the version where you tell me what the hell it is, Eddie."

"So, you see, a woman has this thing called a-"

"I understand female anatomy, Eddie. I just don't understand how it works."

"Alright, so," Eddie anxiously dug through the cupboards for a snack he thought you'd enjoy, "Uh, well, sometimes, well, once a month..Stuff...Comes out."

"Stuff comes out? What type of stuff."

Eddie, not wanting to get into the nitty gritty and wanting to spare himself the details, grabbed a few granola bars, "Just, yknow..Stuff."

"You are useless. I'll simply look it up on the internet."

"Okay, fine, look, listen, man, it's like a reproductive cycle thing." Eddie sighed, "These things happen to a woman once a month to, y'know, clean out the system."

"You mean that a females insides come out once a month...For sanitary reasons? Because that means unsanitary, Eddie."

"No, no. Like.. Alright, so, when a man and a woman love each other very much-"

"I'm an alien not a baby. I know how you guys make offspring.."

"Cool beans." Eddie clutched onto the granola bars, "So let's say, for example, we do the deed- Okay? But we don't make a baby...The body has to flush everything out once a month to-" Eddie rubbed his neck, "I guess you get rid of, uh."

"Yes?"

Not seeing any other pleasant way to say it, Eddie just spat out the first thing he could think of, "It just means that she's not pregnant. So the body just has to sort of reset itself for the month."

"Oh." Was all Venom replied with for awhile.

"Do you understand?"

"So, no offspring means she has to endure this every month?"

"Pretty much."

"So I'm seeing a problem with a simple solution."

"Simple solution?" Eddie seemed amused, "That's cute."

"We should simply make an offspring and then this won't be a problem."

"That's less cute."

"Am I wrong."

"Technically no-"

"Then it's settled."

"It's not settled."

"It has been settled."

"Venom, no."

"Yes."

Eddie mentally cursed himself for even entertaining any of the symbiote's thoughts. Every idea Venom's ever had has never been a good one.

"It's not fair that this is a monthly occurrence. That's a really shitty thing to go through."

"Okay, I hear you. I agree." Eddie was making his way back to the couch, "But whatever the hell idea just came out of that mouth of yours is worse."

"What? I thought you wanted offspring with her."

"Yes, but you don't just have a baby because of this type of deal. You gotta discuss that with everyone involved."

"I'm sure she'd agree with me. You're being unreasonable."

"Fine let's ask her then." Eddie walked around the couch, "Y/n, baby, can I-"

It seems you'd passed out. All curled up in your blanket, with one of the cheap pillows tucker under your head. You looked a little sweaty, so Eddie adjusted the heat setting on the heating pad and lowered the volume on the tv. He quietly set your snack on the table and leaned over to turn the lamp off.

"We'll talk about it later."

"That's the spirit."

"Don't get your hopes up," Eddie yawned, gently laying his head on your hips, hand resting where the heating pad was, just to ensure that it wasn't too hot, "I don't think she'll be too keen on how you view the whole baby thing, man."

Venom was sure his solution was a good one. Of course, he's never really seen or dealt with a human baby before. Surely it can't be any worse than what you're dealing with now, right? In fact, he was certain it'd be easier. And so far, up to this very moment in time, Venom's never been wrong. How wrong could he be about this?

[kiyosamu]

remember.

----♡----

pairing: rintaro suna x female reader.

genre: yandere, dark, light romance. // one shot, 4k words.

synopsis: abusive relationships can seem impossible to leave. when you open up to a classmate, your life takes a dramatic turn in the best and worst ways imaginable.

content warnings: assault, domestic abuse (not from suna), descriptions of violence, yandere themes.

----♡----

“hey, kid.” suna’s voice caught your attention as you passed by him in the university corridor. he was quiet, only speaking loud enough for you to hear right as you were walking by.

“hey, rintaro.” you stopped for a moment, refusing to look up at the tall man towering over you.

“i haven’t seen you in a while. everything okay?” he leaned against the wall and clutched a textbook to his chest. “you haven’t even been to class. kinda been missing my project partner.”

“you got my work though, right?” you asked him, partially covering your face with your hair. “i emailed it to you.”

“i did.”

“okay… good.” you cleared your throat, awkwardly shuffling and offering a suspiciously sudden goodbye.

“hey, wait-" suna grabbed your wrist to keep you from leaving. the small amount of pressure more than enough on your deep bruise to make you wince.

suna noticed your pained expression and immediately let go, stepping back.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to hurt you. i just wanted to ask you if-“

“it’s okay!” you interrupted, knowing you’d already spoken to him for too long. you needed to get out of there before anyone noticed. “you didn’t hurt me. sorry, i have to go. bye!”

your behaviour was erratic. your speech was rushed; forced and strained with every word as you tried your best to appear normal.

unfortunately it was much harder to pretend everything was okay than you’d originally thought it’d be.

you quickly turned and headed down the hallway to drop off the assignments to your other professor. the last one you’d have to see for the day before heading home. you were almost there. so close you might not even run into him.

you’d hoped, anyway.

----♡----

after seeing your professor, you walked out into the fresh evening air. the cold stinging your cheeks and the wind pushing your hair out of your face.

your cheeks burned from the freezing air, but it was your black eye was that hurt the most.

“i’m sorry, i just lost my temper.” his words echoed in your head, “you shouldn’t have pissed me off.”

you nodded, essentially agreeing with him. it’s true, if he didn’t get mad, he wouldn’t have hit you. and why was he mad? because of something you did. so really, it was your own fault.

you were the one apologizing to him that night. doing anything you could to make it up to him. all of this with a deep purple bruise forming on your face.

when he finally left your dorm and went back to his, you were mentally exhausted. you fell asleep and woke up right before your second class of the day.

he had started forcing you to miss classes, to do everything at home and only go in to submit your work. this was for two reasons.

the first, you could spend more time with him due to your schedules. if yours was freed then you’d have more time together.

the second was to stop you from talking to other men. completely.

...and then he found out suna was your lab partner.

“i don’t want you working with him.”

“i have to. the professor is the one who chooses.”

“then work from home and submit the stuff online. that guy is a manipulator. he’s dangerous and will take advantage of you. i just know it.”

you’d never gotten that type of vibe from suna, but you obeyed your boyfriend because you didn’t want to know what would happen if you didn’t.

secretly, though, you missed class. you missed working with him. laughing, getting to know each other. he’d become a good friend over the past year and since you had the same majors, you two shared quite a few classes.

he was calm. funny and quiet, but definitely not timid. his energy made him come off tough, but not scary. if anything, he made you feel… safe.

just for those few hours you had together.

and whenever class would end, you found yourself missing that feeling.

----♡----

“i have to go to class tomorrow.” you said, refusing to make eye contact with your boyfriend who’d invited himself over to your dorm.

just like he does every. single. night.

“why? you gonna go talk to that suna guy?” he approached you, giving you a terrifying smile that you know wasn’t coming from a place of happiness.

“yuji… please.” your words were barely a whisper when you felt his fingers wrap around your throat. “my professor told me i need to start going. my grades are falling behind.”

his fingers tapped rhythmically against your skin. dancing skillfully as he toyed with the idea of choking you. you held your breath, expecting the worst.

“you should try harder.” he growled, digging his fingertips into your neck and you clenched your eyes closed. “get your grades back up so you don’t have to spend any more time with that guy.”

“okay, okay!” you grabbed onto his wrist and his eyes widened. “i will! i’ll get my grades up so i don’t need to see him anymore.”

“good girl.” he smiled, the evil expression he’d previously worn had melted away into a false image of a kind man. “always listening so well for me.”

yuji leaned in and kissed you. you kissed back, barely, but just enough for him to be satisfied and leave you alone.

“time for me to go.” he sighed as he heard the dorm advisor do a final walk through to knock on the doors and let the students know it was time for guests to leave.

“see you tomorrow?” he asked, tilting your chin up to look at him.

“sure…” you whispered. you trembled under his touch and wanted nothing more than for him to leave your sight.

“good. it’s a date.” he said happily and gave you another kiss, practically skipping down the hallway back to his own room.

you shut and locked your door, desperately wishing that was the last time you’d ever have to see him.

----♡----

“well, well, well.” suna cooed as you took your seat next to him. “as i live and breathe, i never thought i’d see the day. you finally made it to class.”

you nodded and pulled out your books.

“had to. my grades are slipping.” you sighed, looking around at the science classroom. “what are we doing today?”

“lab day.” suna said as he nudged an instruction sheet towards you. “should we put on our coats and get to it?”

“okay...”

you started to have an internal panic attack. your wrists were as bruised as the black eye you were hiding behind your hair.

suna stepped away to get your lab coats.

this would all be visible, and you didn’t want suna (or anyone) to see any of it.

you nervously approached your professor and she looked up at you with a disinterested stare.

“ma’am, i need to be excused from class today.”

“absolutely not.” she scoffed, “unless you want to fail my class, which i know you can’t afford to do, you’ll stay and do your lab.”

you opened your mouth to reply but she kept speaking.

“go put up your hair, roll up your sleeves and get your lab coat on. you should be thankful you have such a competent partner.” she crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair, “actually, i think the two of you should spend some time together. he’s my top student and you definitely need some tutoring.”

“i don’t think that’s necessary-“

“mr. suna, come up here please.”

suna walked up with a confused look, unsure as to why he was being brought in to the conversation.

“something i can help with?” he asked.

“yes,” the professor smiled, “i’d like the two of you to do tutoring sessions a minimum of twice a week, an hour each time. could you do that?”

“oh, sure. i don’t mind.” he smiled, “was that all? we should get to our assignment.”

you felt backed in to a wall. of course you were okay with this, you enjoyed spending time with suna.

unfortunately, you were terrified of the repercussions.

even worse, there was nothing you could do about it.

when you got back to your table, you put your hair up and silently thought of a plan. keep your head down, don’t make eye contact. maybe he wouldn’t notice.

you rolled up your sleeves and put on your white coat. it was barely long enough to hit your wrists, but did a decent job of hiding the bruises.

the first half of the lab went well. suna explained things in a way that made it easy to comprehend and you were genuinely enjoying yourself.

until you completely forgot.

you began to pour the green liquid into the tube. suna was writing his lab report when he looked up and noticed your mistake.

“oh, hey,” he stood up, putting his hand over yours to tilt the container back up. “you need to pour it slower, like this.”

when it started to pour just as he’d wanted, he let go and you found yourself missing the brief comfort of his touch.

“good job! you did it.” suna smiled and you looked up at him with an excited expression. finally. finally you were getting something right.

when the two of you made eye contact, his smile immediately dropped into a look of concern.

“what happened to your eye?”

“oh,” you stepped back, covering it with your hand. “i fell.”

suna carefully held onto your wrist and you winced in pain. his intentions were to move your hand away from your eye, but he took immediate notice of your reaction and pushed your sleeve down.

the bruises in the shape of fingerprints stained your skin a deep purple.

“what about here?” he stepped closer. you tried to read his expression but he looked completely emotionless.

“from the same fall, i’m just clumsy.”

“and your neck?”

suna pushed back your lab coat to see the same fingerprint bruises scattered around your neck.

you were suddenly thankful you’d chosen the table in the far back end of the classroom. nobody was ever watching.

“yeah.” you said, practically a whisper. “i’m just really clumsy.”

suna leaned down and looked into your eyes.

“why don’t i believe you?”

“five more minutes!” the professor called, interrupting your intense conversation and the two of you snapped back into action.

you finished your lab report and quickly packed up your stuff before rushing out the classroom door.

suna followed closely behind.

“it’s your boyfriend, isn’t it?”

you stopped dead in your tracks and turned around to look at him. suna’s expression was no longer emotionless. he was angry.

“okay,” you sighed, grabbing his wrist to pull him to a secluded space outside. the two of you sat down under a large tree, away from everyone else.

“yuji gets upset with me and… hurts me… sometimes.” you choked out. “i haven’t told anyone because i’m scared of what he’ll do to me. i haven’t left him because i’m scared of him. i’m stuck.”

you hadn’t said these words out loud to anyone, ever, and the way they were flowing so freely had you crying before you were even aware of it.

“please don’t tell anyo-“

“i’ll take care of it.”

you looked up at him. suna looked completely calm, his voice smooth and gaze held on you.

“what do you mean?”

suna stood up and ran his hands through his hair.

“i mean i’ll take care of it.” he smiled, “see you tomorrow afternoon for tutoring?”

“wait, suna-“

“later!” he gave you a passive wave before walking back towards the university building.

----♡----

that evening you waited for yuji to come by your dorm, but he never did.

you waited for him to call you, but he didn’t.

you worried about what suna had meant. maybe he was going to talk to him, maybe even threaten him. you’d hoped he wouldn’t do that, but you really didn’t know what he was capable of.

surely the rumours about him couldn’t be true. an honour's chemistry major being involved in a more sinister, underground group that nobody even knew if it was real or made up?

he was too nice. there was no way.

----♡----

after class you headed back to your dorm to get ready for your evening. suna had asked you to meet him under the same tree from the day before. around 7pm.

you debated on calling yuji, but ultimately decided against it. maybe he’d come to his senses. maybe he was remorseful, and just wanted to move on. to leave you alone and pretend your relationship never happened.

that was what you wished for the most.

----♡----

you stepped out into the cold evening air. the wind blowing softly and brushing the hair out of your face.

you clutched your books to your chest and took a short cut through the back fields separating the dorms from the main university campus.

you checked your phone, you were early. suna would be there in about 15 minutes.

you reached down to grab your phone when it was immediately snatched from your hands.

“you did this, didn’t you?” a familiar voice snapped at you. you glanced up to see yuji, sporting a similar black eye and a bandaged cut on his cheek.

“i- no, of course not!”

he rolled his eyes at your reply, clearly not willing to listen to a word you were saying. yuji grabbed your wrists, forcing you to drop your books and pushed you against the back wall of the university.

“you did. tell me right now. everything you said. who you said it to. and why.” the look in his eyes was horrifying. scarier than any other look he’s given you before.

this made it seem like his previous bouts of anger were nothing but minor inconveniences.

“i didn’t-“

yuji pulled back, immediately hitting your chin with a hard punch that knocked your head back into the concrete wall.

“try again.”

your vision was hazy. mind blurring memories together and you couldn’t even form a proper sentence.

you felt a warm, wet sensation cascading down the back of your neck and were immediately soothed by the feeling. the warmth was comfortable, even though you didn’t know what it was from.

yuji’s hand wrapped around your throat and he pressed his forehead to yours. his fingers dug roughly into your windpipe, causing you to choke out the remaining air in your lungs. you felt yourself get sleepy, closing your eyes and letting darkness overtake you as your body went limp.

----♡----

“hey, wake up.”

snapping fingers in your face had you looking around curiously. you couldn’t focus on your surroundings. it was unclear who was with you, unclear what was happening around you, and unclear why you were there.

the sounds of multiple men. grunting, panting. speaking quietly between deep breaths and harsh exertion.

what were they doing?

“hey.” the fingers snapped in front of your face again.

“what…” was all you could manage to say. your body felt heavy. weak. you were just so tired. all you wanted to do was fall asleep. you submitted to the exhaustion, closing your eyes again.

“don’t go to sleep.” a soothing voice lifted the back of your neck, pressing something soft against your head. “stay awake and listen to me.”

“ya like beatin’ up girls, huh?”

whack

“wanna put a girl half your size in the hospital, for what? to feel like more of a man?”

whack

“a real man would never hit a woman.”

whack

“a real man would beat the shit out of losers who do hit women, right ‘tsum?”

“right. maybe we’ll even put him in the hospital.”

whack

whack

“oh, he’s gonna be there once we’re done.”

you finally recognized the last voice. it was suna.

he spoke again, his voice raspy and dark but still audible from where you were.

“i hope to fucking god you didn’t hurt her so badly that she’s knocked out…” suna trailed off and let out a small chuckle. “because there’s nothing i want more than for her to hear you cry like a little bitch when this blade goes right…”

the sound of yuji’s sudden scream was immediately muffled by what you were sure was the hand of the other man.

“…through you.”

your eyes widened and you were starting to understand what was happening.

all you could feel around you was danger.

you started to hyperventilate. panic was taking over.

“focus on me. come on, we need to get out of here.”

“who…” your head started to hurt now. badly.

“my name is osamu.” he bent down and cradled you in his arms, bringing you close to his chest and picking you up bridal style. “hold on to me if you can.”

“i’m scared…” you whispered.

“i know.” he murmured, carrying you away from the scene and back through the field. “i’ll keep you safe. we need to go to the hospital.”

“what about…”

“the only thing you need to worry about is stayin’ awake right now, okay? it’ll all be okay.” osamu’s voice was soothing. his body was warm and his strong arms supported your body in a way that made you never want to leave his hold.

you gave him a weak nod. even if you wanted to get away, you couldn’t. so you decided to trust in this man and hope for the best.

----♡----

“hey, sweetheart.” the calm voice of a nurse slowly woke you up. “you’re finally awake.”

“where…” you choked out, your throat was dry and you could barely make out where you were. it was all so… confusing.

“you’re in the hospital.” she said as she stood on her tiptoes to change the fluids on your iv pole. “you were assaulted. your injuries aren’t good but you’ll make a full recovery.”

the nurse leaned back down and held onto your hand. “you have a real knight in shining armour, you know. your boyfriend hasn’t left your side since you were admitted. he’s going to be so happy when he finds out you woke up.”

boyfriend?

your heart started to race at the thought of yuji coming in. you looked around, preparing for the worst when you heard footsteps enter the room.

“hey, sleepyhead.”

“speak of the devil.” the nurse smiled, giving your hand a squeeze. “i’ll let you two have some privacy. please press the call button if you need anything, i’ll come back and check on you soon.”

the footsteps grew closer and you heard the squeak of a chair being pulled up next to your bed. you opened your eyes to see suna giving you a compassionate smile.

“rintaro?” you whispered, “what are you doing here?”

“making sure you’re okay.” he crossed his arms, “been here since you were admitted.”

you tried your hardest to remember even coming to the hospital, but you just couldn’t. everything was gone after your head hit that wall.

“what… happened?” you asked, your eyes pleading for him to be honest.

“someone attacked you and your boyfriend.” suna leaned in, “do you not remember anything?”

“i remember yuji being upset with me…” you blinked, your mind working as hard as it could to remember something of importance. “my head hit the wall and it’s kind of fuzzy after that.”

“i see.” suna nodded.

“wait, how did you know i was in here?”

“some people mentioned an attack on campus. i got worried when you were late for our study session, and when your phone rang and you didn’t answer i felt like something was up.” he shrugged, taking a moment to think of his next words. “i called the hospital and asked if you were here, and then came right over when they confirmed it.”

“oh. okay…” you went to scratch an itch on your scalp and were met with searing pain at the slightest bit of pressure. “ow!”

“careful.” he smiled, taking your hand away from your head. “it’s gonna be sore for a while.”

“yeah…” you trailed off, trying to make sense of the situation. “what happened to yuji?”

“why do you care?”

“huh?” you glanced at suna who’s expression had turned sour.

“why do you care about what happened to him? he could've killed you.”

“i just wanted to know if he…” your voice was shaky and you tried to compose yourself. “if there was a possibility of him coming after me again.”

“not a single chance.” suna leaned over the railing of the hospital bed and took your hand. “besides, even if there was, i won’t let anything happen to you.”

----♡----

you’d found out yuji had suffered from severe injuries almost taking his life. he was beaten, stabbed, and his spinal cord suffered so much damage he was permanently paralyzed from the waist down.

while you were relieved the abuse would be over, you constantly wondered who had assaulted him.

you remembered telling suna and him saying he’d take care of it, surely that wasn’t him, right? there was no way suna could do something like that.

----♡----

months went by while you recovered from your injuries. you’d been discharged from the hospital after 3 weeks, and suna had stuck by your side every day.

“i’m happy to say you’ve essentially made a full recovery.” the doctor smiled, shaking your hand. “i’m so proud of your progress. you’re truly a walking miracle.”

“what about my memory?” you asked, “when will i remember what happened?”

“oh, you might not ever remember. you hit your head hard and from what we gather, you were unconscious.” the doctor stood up, clutching his clip board before walking out. “it’s probably for the best that you don’t remember what happened. you should focus on moving on, now. take care.”

----♡----

“well, should we celebrate?” suna asked as you walked out of the hospital together. you stopped, causing him to turn and look down at you. “what’s up?”

“i just wanted to say thank you…” you said, feeling your face getting hot. “i don’t think i could’ve done this without you.”

“you could’ve. you’re the strongest person i’ve ever met.” he leaned down, brushing the hair out of your face. the same hair that used to cover the deep bruises, now showing your true complexion. “and the most beautiful.”

you felt your heart flutter at his sudden compliment. suna’s hands found your waist and you instinctively draped your arms over his shoulders.

“you really mean that?” you asked, looking into his eyes.

“of course i do.” he smiled, leaning in to give you the long awaited kiss the two of you had been dying for. his lips were soft and you melted into his arms. he pulled away, resting his forehead on yours. “beautiful in every possible way.”

you felt tears well up as you were being complimented. the sweetest, kindest, most handsome man touching you so delicately and speaking to you with nothing but respect.

you'd completely fallen in love with him, and it was everything you ever could’ve asked for.

----♡----

a few weeks after the two of you made it official, your honeymoon phase was in full force. you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. you were experiencing your first true relationship that made you feel loved and you cherished at every moment.

one evening, you decided to go to suna’s dorm to surprise him.

knock knock

“rintaro?” you called out, opening the door to let yourself in. “are you home?”

“in here, baby.” he replied from the kitchen. he was sharing an apartment style dorm with two other men, but you hadn’t met them yet. they weren’t ever there when you were.

“we finally get to meet your girl, huh?” one of them cooed as you walked in. he had dyed blonde hair and smirked at you as you walked by. “damn, she’s a looker, huh ‘samu?”

samu… why did that sound familiar?

“don’t be such a pig.” the other boy replied. you realized they were twins when he stood up and walked over to you. he smiled, holding out his hand. “nice to meet ya, i’m osamu.”

osamu.

no.

“my name is osamu…”

it couldn’t be.

“…hold on to me if you can.”

no, no, no.

the memories of the night of the assault came flooding back to you.

it only took a moment to realize...

...it wasn’t a random assault at all.

[happyselves]

Budapest { Lando Norris x reader one shot }

Breaking up sucks as it is, but to be dumped in an airport where you were going to a grand prix of formula 1 was worse … It was both of your dreams and he renounced it because of insecurities toward you. Admitting a “mistake” he had made with one of your commun friends, sleeping with her. You had to think fast in that airport, either you leave and go live one of your dreams or you step out of his place and go back home and cry for weeks. The answer was quickly found. You leave him and his baggage, not turning your back, deciding to not cry for the asshole you had spent so many time building a life he had destroyed in a snap of his fingers.

However the grand prix didn’t happen how you wanted it to. You had not really thought of him, too busy with the environment around you, sharing for your favorite drivers, freely wearing his merch that you had bought because you didn’t have any reason not to know that you didn’t have someone telling you off. Your now ex used to hate when you were showing your obsession and fascination toward the young driver that was Lando Norris. The dit driver had a great start but all his effort went in vain when the Mercedes driver hit the back of his car and ruined his race, forcing him to retire.

At first you didn’t know how to react, but when you saw him on the big screen in front of you, all the sadness and frustration and all the anger and hatred toward your ex boyfriend was transferred to this. You wanted to leave right away, but you stay, to support your team because Daniel Ricciardo was still in the race. You cheered as much as you could, exhausting yourself mentally and physically but it wasn’t enough and the number 3 car was too damaged to reach the point in the head. It was a shame, but that is the hard law of this sport. After this terrible race you had no heart in celebrating the win for Ocon even if you were extremely happy for him, so you went back to your hotel and went to bed.

The next day was quiet and you spent time in the city, you didn't feel great so you just walked through the city and visited stuff … alone. This time no crowd and loud car could distract you from your own thoughts. Your ex boyfriend was all you could think about now. The memories you had together, the dog, the apartment. By leaving and not facing it you were pushing the moment and you knew it will hurt even more next time you will have to face him.

It was the evening and it was getting cooler, you get your merch hoodie out of your bag and wear it. You find a nice spot on a bench in front of the river crossing the city and you put yourself in a cocoon, your legs closed to your chest and your head on your knees, hugging yourself for comfort as you watch the sunset. The tears came on their own, you were lost in your thoughts and you didn’t notice the man sitting next to you. You were so lost that you were now hearing Lando talking to you in your brain.

“You know it’s a pretty spot to watch the sunset, but not alone,” You puff a quick laugh, even your own mind was making stuff up and you didn’t know why, but you were ready to have a full conversation with yourself. At least your brain was nice enough to create someone that looked like your favorite driver. “ That’s funny, I’m that desperate that I’m talking to myself now, great, next stop the psy,” you weren’t waiting for any response, but you got one anyway. “ Well maybe your brain isn’t making this up ?” Another sound came out of you, were you ready to have a full argument with your own self. “ It wouldn’t be the first time I’m daydreaming about a handsome man talking to me out of nowhere, but I know my luck, why do you think I got dumped just before going on vacation ? I’m nothing … “ You were resigned, the tears kept falling and the pain kept coming. “ Well then he is an idiot, to let a beautiful woman, with great taste may I have, go. This man is obviously blind.” You had a great imagination to be able to hear Lando’s voice so clearly in your head that it felt like he was just next to you.

You turn your head toward what you thought the voice was coming from and there he was, sitting next to you, looking at you with fondness. Damn you really needed help if even your blurry eyes by the wet tears could recreate his whole body and face in front of you.

At any point you thought it might be true even if you were both in the same city, the odds were too big and he would probably be in his hotel room by now enjoying some games with his mates on his computer or watching netflix.

“ That’s not fair that you create this for me, I do not deserve to have such a beautiful daydream like this, seeing him this weekend from afar was one thing but to now trick me and build this masquerade in my mind to ease my pain, that’s really new brain.” You were feeling crazy and you were trying not to sound like one, you were talking to yourself and you were scared that others will think of you as someone with less sanitary than an average human being.

Yet, your fake Lando get closer to you and start touching your arm, you didn’t even flinch when you sense his touch, you know you wouldn’t be able to feel anything because if one thing you learn is that touching isn’t a sense the brain is capable of reproduction to the perfection in your brain when you are dreaming. Then why were you feeling it, why suddenly his touch felt so reassuring and real. You blind repeatedly trying to wake yourself from this sweet dream you were living because this couldn’t be real and it was starting to feel scary.

Lando didn’t move his arm from you even if you tried to gently push him away and put some distance back between you. You weren’t certain this wasn’t reality anymore because as you took his arm, you felt him, your grip on him was real. You lock your eyes on him, focusing on every detail of this creation in your own mind. You knew the shirt he was wearing and the shorts as well, you knew how he looks after running as well so that was a normal thing, but every little detail of him only a person being super close to him could imagine, that you had never experienced and yet here everything was here in front of you. He never felt so him and so real in the flesh. Your fingers found the scruff on his chin and felt the small hair tickling your palm.

That’s where you realise … Lando Norris was in front of you, in the flesh as real as you wear. You come back right back to your senses when you see the sunset and keep drawing beautiful colors in the sky. Lando was amused by the situation, you weren’t.

“ Oh sleeping beauty is coming back from the daydream ?” Somehow he arranges a lock of hair missing on your face, putting it behind your ear. You jerk at the touch now knowing that you were imagining things. You stand up quickly and try to avoid him, walking like a lunatic in front of the bench right to left. “ You know, you are the first fan I've met that acts like this, quite refreshing. “ You stop and track and look at him, really look at him.

“ How do you know I am a fan of yours ?” If this wasn’t the dumbest question you had ever asked, you didn’t know how to be more embarassing of yourself.

“ Well at first I wasn’t really sure, then I saw you on that bench, curl up in a small little ball wearing my hoodie merch, then you basically confirm it when you thought I was a pure product of your imagination,” You were hiding your face now, you bet your cheeks were red. You were mortified to ever have thought you were this desperate that your brain could be creating him, but even more when you knew he had to witness that.

“ I’m sincerely sorry, I ruined your evening run, “ You were apologizing to him, ready to take your bag and run away from this situation, to forget everything that happened. It wasn’t the best timing for you to meet one of your idols, that’s not how you had imagined things to go if one day you would have the courage to try and meet him.

As you tried to take your bag, he stopped you and took your arm. It was like the first, but this time all you could think about was the butterflies appearing in your stomach. Lando was the only person you could dump your boyfriend for … your ex-boyfriend. Before you had time to dive in your thoughts once more he spoke to you.

“ Please don’t go, I should be the one apologizing, I let you think you were insane because I was amused and you’ve made my day to be honest. I felt less alone. “ He was brutally honest suddenly and your heart shattered even more, making your recent break up put on the second plan, focusing on the man in front of you only.

It’s true that you didn’t notice at first, but he was looking tired, not only physically but mentaly. He brings you closer to him, silently asking you to sit where you were in the beginning.

You were both smiling to each other and without any of you being able to control it you end up talking a long time on that bench, not realising it was now dark. Only when Lando’s phone buzzed did you both realise that you had been exchanging your deepest secrets to each other, telling each other's life like you were best friends finding their way back to each other. You even forgot he was a famous racing driver at some point, not caring much because you were now truly seeing the man behind the helmet and you like him even more.

You sense a sort of sadness when he picks up his phone to respond to his manager. Of course they were worrying, he told them he was gone for half an hour, not three hours. You thought he would lie about where he was, being cheeky and keeping his privacy and you were ready to take that small hit behind your head that you bring you both back into your respective life, otherwise he surprised you once more by being honest and telling his manager the truth. He was smiling at you and his eyes were glued on your face with that same fondness you thought your brain had made up earlier. He hanged up and his body turn toward you.

“ So as you can guess I have to go, but I have the feeling that if I don’t ask to come with me, it would be one of the biggest mistakes of my life, so … “ He was scared to continue, evaluating the reaction on your face, but he must have seen something in you that confirmed something in him and made him continue, “ I’m not applying anything, it’s to talk obviously, but would you like to accompany me to my hotel and maybe see each other again ? I’m leaving wednesday night, of course you can refuse I wouldn’t take it bad”

Two choices were now in front of you and you could only choose one. The first one was obviously saying no and going back to England where you are from and facing the hard reality of your ex and the second one was to push your plane ticket to next wednesday and spend time with him. There was actually nothing to think about as you simply said yes to him and followed him to his hotel that night. You didn’t do anything, only talking and even meeting the whole team. You tried your best not to fangirl like a teenager but you couldn’t help yourself showing the admiration you had for everyone of them and they already knew with the hoodie you were wearing anyway. That night was one of the best in your life, you talk all night in his room and end up falling asleep on his chest. It is the first time since you’ve been alone that you finally find peace in your sleep and truly rest and somehow you felt it was the same for him. This is why he asks you to stick around with him, even for the Pirelli test. You were not only living your dream now, but you were living it with him and it was even better. You felt lucky and you were now wondering what would have happened if you had not gone to that place and kept those grand prix tickets. You could care less, Lando made you forget all the pain this ex of yours had afflicted you for the past week. You had fun and everyone was so welcoming and nice to you, explaining everything around the paddock, you even found yourself laughing with Daniel Ricciardo at some point during the day.

The looks you send to each other on the other hand were far from being only friendly, there were something more. Your body was acting on its own and he was so receptive to it. Everyone in the garage could sense something that both of you were ignoring, but they were polite enough not to make a word of it or tease the young driver for it. You were secretly thanking them to not make this moment awkward, you were already still thinking you were in a deep dream or coma, not wanting to wake up just yet.

The day went fast and ended up in a nice dinner in his room, still talking and joking. At some point it was the second night in a row you fell asleep on him, while watching something on tv. It really wasn’t your type to trust a stranger even if this one was famous and you “ knew him “. You didn’t want to live dangerously,but for sure that difficult time ahead of you was making you enjoy the best of life without thinking about the next day.

Lando was stroking you slowly as he was finishing the movie you were watching before you found Morphee, kissing your head before turning everything off and joining you in dreamland as well.

You were sure the people at your own hotel were wondering where you were,and when the next day you finally came back to it, Lando quickly behind you, you could swear you had seen a smirk flashing on the front desk woman’s face. You hadn’t expected the man next to you to find a way and arrange the plane ticket you had to take for going home, to be weirdly the same plane as him and the seat next to him. You both didn’t really want to come back to reality and go to your respecting mundane life just yet.

The last day was as good as the day before other than that bittersweet feeling you had depe down, not wanting to let this go just yet. You didn’t know how you could enjoy this little bit of life he had show you, you were already addicted to this lifestyle, to that travel, hotel and paddock life, this crazy life of him and most important you knew how fucked you were because you realise soon enough that you were already addicted to him quite simply.

Both of you were staying quiet about your soon departure from each other and until the last moment you didn’t aboard the subject, but every good dream had a end and it’s on that parking lot when you saw the whole team leaving one by one to find their car that you realise it was the end of his fairy tale. Lando had held your hand tight the whole time, you were ready to let it go and leave this mind forever when he decided otherwise and asked you where you were going tonight now that you weren’t with your boyfriend. You hadn’t thought of that of course you hadn’t, how can you think about this when this beautiful and genuine nice man in front of you had replaced as quickly as he came in your life all your thoughts. It’s like he knew right away and didn’t let you answer, your luggage was already in the lack of his car with him and you were both driving to his place. Every woman would be afraid, why weren’t you that was the question.

“ I’m not ready to let you go, I don’t want to, “ That what he said to you as he pull his car in front of his house before adding up, “ I don’t even think I will be able to let you go ever in the rest of my life, “ You didn’t know what to say to that, you were only focusing on him, only him and the only thing you could think about right now was the close that damn gap between you two and kiss him. So you did and it was even more beautiful that the fireworks on national day, the butterflies in your stomach were moving so much that you could feel yourself flying except you were still in this car with him, his hands in your hair, messing the already messy bun you had for travelling, savoring every bit of your lips for the first time, like it was the last. When you finally pull away from each other to catch your breath, your forehead finds him.

“ I’m not going anywhere. “

MASTERLIST