#just because you want something to be right... that doesn't make it right
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lymtw · 17 hours ago
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Roommate!Toji
Roommate!Toji who notices that you aren't exactly a ray of sunshine when you first move in, but completely understands the reasoning behind it once you explain your situation. You had to run away from your cheating ex boyfriend, because he started acting crazy when you confronted him and broke up with him all in one go.
Roommate!Toji who, despite rarely seeing you, developed the fattest crush on you and was torn between not wanting to act like a kid in elementary school about it, but also not being extremely assertive, because he thought it might turn you off.
Roommate!Toji who doesn't get to act either way around you, because you promised him that you would make yourself as unnoticeable as possible when you're home, and that you wouldn't be an issue for him, at all. You rarely leave your room when you're home, and when you see that he's in a room you need something from, you spin on your heel and immediately retreat, not coming back out for at least half an hour to ensure that he's not there anymore.
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Roommate!Toji who hates that you're actually keeping your word about this. It really is like he's still living alone, until you briefly appear when you are either heading out or getting home. It's always a quiet "hi" or "goodnight" and if he's lucky, it's, "hey, Toji" and "goodnight, Toji". Sometimes, he only gets a glance from you as you quickly stride past him to get to your room. Those nights usually come with the sounds of sniffling and stuttered deep breaths, that make Toji furrow his eyebrows through a mixture of sentiments, when he hears them outside your door.
Roommate!Toji who sees you leave your room one night, all dolled up and wearing a dangerously seductive perfume he has never smelled on you before. His posture straightens like that of an obedient dog with a treat dangling in its face, and he almost stands up to follow you to the door, but he wills himself to stay down and asks the questions that are on his mind, before you leave.
Roommate!Toji who is in awe when he hears a consistent flow of your voice answering his questions about your plans, rather than just the usual quick greeting and goodnight. It's the longest you have spoken to him since you moved in and it's the sound equivalent of drizzling honey—sweet, smooth, and pleasant. With an awkward, borderline hypnotized nod, he stops being a distracting chatterbox and lets you go with a final "Well... have fun."
Roommate!Toji who does not miss another opportunity to know what is still bringing you all this misery, when you come back looking like you had the opposite of fun. As you're about to wordlessly stroll past him, to go to your room, he stops you with a "hey" and grabs a beer from his pack, extending it towards you while patting the spot on the couch next to him. It's a whole different type of relief when you inch closer, hesitantly, but take the drink and sit where he directed you to sit.
Roommate!Toji who finds the way you start out acting timidly towards him, to be adorable. You sat where he wanted you to sit, out of politeness, but you crossed your legs and arms so that you didn't accidentally touch him. That all goes out the window when your politeness does not allow you to refuse his offering of more drinks. You open up and you relax your limbs and it's as if you don't even realize—or maybe you don't care, anymore—that your shoulder and your knee is right against his.
Roommate!Toji who listens to you ramble on, tipsily, about how your ex has been finding all kinds of ways to get in contact with you, going to the extent of making new social accounts and getting new phone numbers every time he breaks character and reveals that it's him. You look bothered as you retell the amount of times your ex has told you he's sorry and that he wants you back.
Roommate!Toji who realizes you're crying when he catches the waver in your voice as you tell him that the situation is making you miserable and that you don't know what to do, anymore. It's one of the saddest things he's ever seen. Your body is trembling from your attempt to keep your emotions contained, your lips are quivering, and you're looking down at your lap, as if you're embarrassed about being upset.
Roommate!Toji who does not hesitate to pull you in for a tight hug when you hide your face with your hands. He does not mind that you're soaking his shoulder with your tears. He comforts you by caressing the back of your head and drawing circles on your back with his palm. For a brief moment, his nose has full access to the intoxicating scent you're doused in and god, it's beautiful. So fitting for you.
Roommate!Toji who wipes your cheeks with his thumbs and keeps them dry when your tears keep flowing as you recount your history with your ex and how you found out he was cheating on you. You're breaking Toji's heart, but he's not going to stop you. With how passionately and in depth you're describing it all, it really seems like he's the first to have listened to you about the subject.
Roommate!Toji whose heart drops when you tell him that if your ex finds you, you're going to have to move, again. Immediately, he's throwing out solutions. "We can get the police involved—file a restraining order..." "Got a couple pocket knives you can have..." "I can wait for you to get off work, outside your building..."
Roommate!Toji who hasn't killed anyone in years, but knows that if thrown into a situation that required him to do so, his abilities would not be rusted. All those innocent suggestions he blurted out, were merely to provide some comfort for you and to help you begin to understand that he can help you if you tell him things. Only Toji knows that if the idiot shows up looking for you, he's getting picked off without a warning.
Roommate!Toji whose heart rate increases when you smile at him with your tired, now, unintentionally sad-looking eyes, and when you wrap your arms around him this time, he finds he doesn't want to let go of you. You smell so good and you're so warm against him. He's in a daze, with this mixture of alcohol and you.
Roommate!Toji who takes this intimate moment as an opportunity to kiss you. His lips brush your shut, unmoving ones, for a solid five seconds. Clearly, you're in shock, so your lack of reciprocation during those five seconds don't deter him. You caught up and melted into the affection once the surprise wore off.
Roommate!Toji who knows that despite the drinks he's had, he won't be able to forget the sounds you made when he kissed up your neck. So sweet and honeyed, that it makes his stomach do flips. He could stay there all night, just leaving wet kisses all over your neck, if it means he gets to hear you like this the entire time.
Roommate!Toji who gets his own moment of shock when you lie back on the couch and start pulling up your shirt, revealing your stomach and the bottom of your pretty bra. He doesn't touch you, regardless of how much his mouth is watering and how he's itching to feel your skin beneath his hands. He appreciates the sight and the monster in his pants definitely came to life, but this is a delicate situation. Visual cues are not enough to go off of.
Roommate!Toji who asks many times for your consent, even as you're exposing more of yourself to him and pawing at his thighs. You've both had a few drinks, and though your actions all point to you wanting to do more with him, your word is everything and more. You hear "Is this okay?" "Am I making you uncomfortable?" "Are you sure?" He only continues when every answer you give to his questions is one that corresponds with feeling safe and comfortable enough to go on.
Roommate!Toji who didn't fuck you, but made genuine, caring, spirit binding love to you. He held your hands and made sure that you were fine the entire time. Whenever you would start crying and talking about the things you thought you must have been missing in your ex's eyes for things to end up this way, Toji would kiss your tears away and hush you with quiet murmurs of, "he missed out on you, baby..." "No more crying, pretty girl. He's not worth it..." "You're perfect..." All as he rocked both of you on the couch, luring mutual, gentle pleasure, for what felt like hours.
Roommate!Toji who smothers you with soft kisses when both of you finish for the nth time. He can tell you're on the brink of falling asleep, so he quickly runs to the bathroom to grab a damp towel and comes back to clean you up a little. Once he feels you're as tidy as he can get you with a simple towel, he gets dressed and carries you to your bed. The easy part was finding some underwear and pajamas for you to wear, the not so easy part was getting the clothes on you. You were out of commission, sleeping, already, while Toji was lifting and moving your limbs, trying to get your clothes on.
Roommate!Toji who eventually gets it done and turns you onto your side. The final kiss of the night is placed on your forehead, before he leaves your room.
Roommate!Toji doesn't see or hear from you for two weeks, after that night.
Roommate!Toji thinks maybe he's just not catching you at the right times. He's been following the same schedule he made in his mind, but it seems like you aren't, anymore. When he wakes up to have his morning coffee, he doesn't see you on your way out or catch a gust of that lighter mist you normally wear, and when he's on the couch later at night, skimming the channels for whatever grabs his attention, he doesn't hear your key turning the lock, signaling that you're home, before he goes to bed.
Roommate!Toji who's driving himself crazy with all the overthinking. He hasn't seen you leave or come home for days. For all he knows, you haven't even been staying in the same house. He's unknowingly pacing around the living room, racking his brain to think of what could possibly have happened. He was inviting, he listened to you and comforted you. He was a gentleman and he treated you with the delicacy of someone who's in love. Those feelings shouldn't have been lured out so easily by someone he barely sees—barely knows—but they were, and with you hiding from him, he's left to just suck it up and deal with it.
Roommate!Toji who after a few days of pretending to be stoic and careless about you not being around, feels like a loser as he waits for you to come home one night, like some loyal dog. He plans to stay up until he sees you, again, even if you don't come home until four, five, or six in the morning. He's tired of this heavy feeling in his chest that he shouldn't be feeling at all. He knows he did nothing wrong, but, clearly, there are things to talk about if something scared you off.
Roommate!Toji who hears the familiar sound of the only other key to the house, turning the lock, at two forty-five in the morning. As soon as he gets a look at your tired, pretty face, his blood starts boiling. When you simply say "goodnight" and try to walk away like you normally do, he stops you with a hand tightly wrapped around your wrist. Almost instantly, he becomes aware of how scary the restraining gesture must be to you and lets go.
Roommate!Toji notices the extra tiredness on your face. Not just the 'almost three in the morning' tiredness, but the 'haven't gotten good sleep in a while' tiredness, as well. The bags under your eyes are prominent and your eyes are lidded, like you're fighting to keep them open. He wonders if you're really losing so much sleep just to avoid him.
Roommate!Toji who doesn't stay wondering and asks you every single question he's had about you going around him these past two weeks. He doesn't accept your quick responses and variations of simply being busy. How did you suddenly get so busy once you saw each other naked? It's a pretty big coincidence.
Roommate!Toji who doesn't have the heart to talk to you in a stern manner to express the awful feelings he's had for the last couple weeks. Not when you look so pitifully exhausted, like you're about to drop any second. He lets you go, with the condition being that the conversation will be picked up again the next day. He sees the hesitance on your face, like it's something you don't want to pick up, again, but you agree, anyway, and head off to your room.
Roommate!Toji stays up in bed for a little while longer, wondering about many things regarding you. Will you keep your word and follow through with the conversation in the morning, or will you be gone before he wakes up, again? What made things weird? Why did you make yourself completely invisible as opposed to keeping things the way they were before?
Roommate!Toji whose mind begins to wander when he starts thinking of your pretty face. Even with all the fatigue that currently litters your features, you're gorgeous and flashbacks of that night come to mind. The gloominess on your face when you came home from your time out, the sadness that showed itself as you let him in on a difficult part of your life, and then the hopeful look on your face when he offered to help you. It was the equivalent of a beautiful sunrise, and he would, undoubtedly, kiss you, again, if he were given a chance to redo that moment.
Roommate!Toji who feels pathetic when the front of his boxer briefs start feeling tighter, just at the thought of your face. Though, your expressions were all pretty, that night, they weren't all innocent. He can vividly picture your orgasm face and the sounds that came with it. It's enough for him to impatiently kick off his boxers and use all those images and thoughts of you to alleviate the pressure he's feeling below.
Roommate!Toji whose shame only comes from the fact that he's doing this at three-something in the morning, while you're two rooms down the hall, hopefully, recovering from your lack of sleep. His shame quickly loses its prominence when all the thoughts of you and the stroking motions of his hand cloud his mind. You were the softest, most delicate thing, and every touch, kiss, and more, called for the sweetest croons from you. It truly was a reward whenever his name made it past your lips, in that honeyed voice he can't get enough of. He got to locate the source of that perfume on your skin that makes him feral and he drowned in the loudness of its ambrosial notes.
Roommate!Toji who is unaware of how loud he's being. He thinks he's doing a good job of stifling his sounds, but it's all futile when he reaches his peak and releases all the uncontrolled stuttered breaths and groans. Deep voiced expletives are the only words he can mutter through the euphoric feeling, because your name can't be thrown into his perverted activity. At least not when you're home. Once he blinks open his eyes, and comes down from his post-orgasm haze, he cleans himself up with his boxers and goes to sleep butt naked. He's too tired to get up and change, and it would be pointless since he's going to shower when he gets up, anyway.
Roommate!Toji who leaves his room a few hours later in the morning—after showering, of course—and is surprised to see you sitting at the table on your phone. You look like you're ready to head out for the day, but you're there, as promised, with a steaming mug of coffee in front of you. He finds it funny how long it takes for you to notice he's standing there, but when you do see him, you greet him as you normally do, and this time, you stay. He accepts your offering of coffee and sits in the chair next to you, ready to dive into this possibly awkward conversation.
Roommate!Toji who does not expect you to start out by apologizing, profusely, saying you didn't mean to make it seem like he did something wrong and that you didn't know how to go about seeing him the next day, after everything. He hears you out as you reassure him that your consent for that night stands and that you were fine the morning after. You looked nervous the entire time, like you were expecting him to lash out on you for what you chose to do, instead of just talking to him.
Roommate!Toji takes his part in reassuring you as well. He lets you know that he's not upset with you, anymore, and that when he was, it was out of concern for the amount of time that had gone by without a single notice of you being okay after that night. He reminds you that you have his number, and that anything you don't feel comfortable telling him in person, you could always tell him through text or on the phone, yet, you didn't do either one of those things, and that only further added to his worry of having possibly wronged you in some way.
Roommate!Toji who gets an in depth explanation for why you avoided him, and it's unfortunately rooted to the man who hurt you, emotionally and mentally. You explain that you don't fear commitment, but it's hard to trust people enough to get close. You tell him that he's the first to have seen you in such a vulnerable state since your ex and it was scary to know that you offered such an intimate part of yourself to someone who possibly saw it as just something to simply derive pleasure from. He understood when you elaborated and said that you don't know him well enough and you don't know his intentions, so you figured it was best to keep your distance, before you put yourself into a situation that would leave you feeling like you're being used.
Roommate!Toji who takes what you said into consideration, but also takes advantage of how jittery he feels after finishing his coffee and just sitting there, to admit that he likes you and that he would like to get to know you. His leg is bouncing under the table, but he's definitely not nervous... It's just the caffeine and its weird effect.
Roommate!Toji who doesn't feel the slightest bit disappointed when you tell him that you should get to know each other as friends, first. It kind of stings, considering how much he thinks about you, and he definitely can't pretend like he hasn't seen the body under your clothes, but he's determined to prove that he likes you. If that means more nights spent comforting you when the self doubt starts gnawing at you, again, and assuring you countless times that nothing will ever threaten your safety, then so be it.
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phantomrose96 · 22 hours ago
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Honestly I recommend everyone learn just a littttle bit of CSS because it really is powerful and just makes bits and pieces of your internet experience more convenient.
Right now I'm cataloguing recipes I've really enjoyed, just trying to get them all in one place. Many of these are instagram recipes and, because I don't trust link rot (aka the possibility that the instagram link goes dead one day), I'm including a screenshot of the recipe along with the link.
But instagram on desktop... looks like this
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(Link, for credit. It's a good recipe)
I obviously could just copy-paste the recipe out of there. But a screenshot would be cleaner for how I'm cataloguing these.
And as-is, I'd have to scroll the whole height of that small right-side window about 4 times to fit it all.
But actually... I can just resize that div holding that whole right-side content
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Basically I
hit f12 to open the dev tools
clicked the element finder
clicked on an element inside the recipe side
followed it up the tree until I found the element holding the whole recipe side (do this by hovering the div in the dev tools panel way on the right, then hovering upward and up until I find the element which is the highest up that still only contains the recipe-side content)
in the element.style part, set "width: 1000px" and "height: 1500px"
(I notice the width seems to still be less than 1000px, even though it got bigger)
likely suggests there's an element above it with a max-width set
go up the tree higher until I find the element with the max-width and uncheck that style
screenshot ready
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Maybe that sounded complicated but it took me probably 20-30 seconds
And this isn't just about screenshotting recipes like.
website with an annoying gif? select gif, delete gif
do you want a clean screenshot of a digital receipt for record-keeping without a large company banner or irrelevant information? delete unnecessary elements, adjust widths, screenshot
SOMETIMES, you can bypass paywalls if they're relying on something like overflow: hidden, or an overlay in the way, or some JS that runs (you can disable JS in the dev tools)
lost the jpg/png file you used for your profile picture and size doesn't totally matter? grab it from the img src while logged in. (you might even be able to find it in a bigger size by changing the url query parameters)
color contrast on an article really bad? find and change background color. find and change font color
want to make a funny fake screenshot without learning photoshop? just edit the page content in the dev tools
This isn't about like being good enough to write scripts or browser extensions. Really if you just have some basic HTML/CSS understanding a hat worth of tricks, you can make so many little adjustments in your favor.
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motziedapul · 3 days ago
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While I'm not privy to the entirety of the discourse, I'm seeing a lot of people act very smug about other people not knowing what the Odyssey is, which, as stated by the biggest Odyssey fan on social media right now (Wolfythewitch), is a very eurocentric view.
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I'm sure there's a reason many liberal Twitter accounts are suddenly posting like their icons are White Greek statue heads and are very concerned that non Westerners don't all know a PILLAR OF WESTERN CIVILIZATION , but ultimately there's no reason most people in the non Western world would have read The Odyssey.
Not because I don't think it's a valuable story to read or know about, mind. But because it's specifically a basis for Western storytelling, and despite what Twitter may think, the West isn't the world.
I learned the Odyssey because I wanted to. Wolfy learned because they wanted to. Most of us Filipinos never learned it at school; for the same reason most Westerners never learned our important cultural texts.
Moreover, there are other stories that are just as valuable, or teach you the same lessons, across cultures.
I'm not saying this to belittle the cultural significance of the Odyssey. I just don't think people understand how this story isn't universal outside of a Western context, even if many of its themes are.
I do think people should at least be aware of it, as well as other classics, but I'm not gonna jump down people's throats for not knowing something I personally had to seek out by myself, that was never presented to me in all my years of being educated. I also think that you can be literate, well rounded, intelligent, and intellectually curious without ever once knowing who Odysseus is.
I also think there are quite a few Asian legends, epics and stories that people don't get angry you don't know about, even if they're about as significant, or more, to more people. I would prefer more Filipinos care about our own stories than I would ever wish them to know about or read The Odyssey, but that's just me.
Odyssey exceptionalism doesn't make sense to me. People should read more but I'll respect someone who's read 10,000 books and somehow never reading The Odyssey, than I will someone who thinks reading the Odyssey makes them better.
I’m living for The Odyssey discourse on Twitter right now because some people are like, “You’ve never heard of the odyssey” and other people are like, “some people don’t speak English and haven’t read your little American book.”
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acid-ixx · 1 day ago
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brutus: just a burning memory (villain au concept)
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reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
— masterlist !
a/n: just a tiny excerpt i want to post regarding this because i want more conner kent content but make it angst after i posted smth spicy HAHAH. guys plsplspls i encourage all the comments. hell, even a single one inspired me to write this little drabble. i may not reply to all of them, but i read and cherish them with all my heart 🩷 i've been writing more these days and it's interactions and comments that drive me to write even more for this fandom so please, i'm on my knees.
tags: @sweetconnoisseurgardener, @winter-world, @bunbunbread, @thypplover.
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"sweetheart— you're..." his voice, unsure and wispy, comes out in little quivers. wide, blue eyes stare at the silhouette of your all-too familiar, yet foreign body.
how could he not remember you, when it is only your the thrum of heartbeats that he cherishes in his memories? the shape of your hips in his hands? the puff of your cheeks he burned into his retina every time he blinks?
yet now you're too stiff, too sharp and out of place, a hint of expertise on your pose, as if it's ready to fight him, conner, your once beloved.
what happened...?
there was no softness in the shape of your shadow, no hands that fight the urge to run to him just to feel the warmth of his body, no yielding gazes fluttering up nor your nuzzled head rested on his chest.
the scar of your sudden break-up burns into his flesh the more he witnesses you come out of the shadow of the walls you're disguised in.
too different, too familiar, the seams of his poorly stitched heart rip once he sees you, once angelic now looking like you've fallen from grace, still so beautiful, still so poised yet poisonous— if he couldn't handle losing you back then, then he couldn't handle your reunion now.
he couldn't, no, not ever. he could never handle just how truly beautiful his soulmate is.
and right in front of him stands you... and he falls in love all over and over again, yet feels the fresh sting of heartbreak from all these years ago.
conner couldn't believe what was in front of him.
"what? i'm alive? changed? somethin' else? don't be so afraid to tell me, kon-baby." a new accent, from a different city, spoken in that alluring voice of yours, too gritty and sharp as a knife. cold, unforgiving eyes stare up at him like he was in enemy lines. there was no sentiment in your glare, no softness nor familiarity in your words.
it chips away at his heart, little by little.
there weren't enough words to describe how much he missed you, the way your sullen tone lightens at his presence, how you perfectly fit like a puzzle piece in his arms, your head burrowing into his neck and smelling his perfume. you say it's the only scent that calmed you down, that made your heart flutter 'cause it reminds you of him, it made his heart buzz at the sweet words.
ever since then, kon always made sure to wear that treasured perfume every single day after your confession, even after your disappearance did the use of that scent surge into his apartment, invading his sensitive nostrils like the plague. the fear of forgetting you, the memories of your precious giggles and calm intakes of air with him echoing all day in his solitude without you.
he misses those soft moments.
but this? whoever this is standing face to face with him is not you, the sharp sting of your words sound completely foreign, your laughter, once fluttery, now sounds manic as if your past affection for him was you merely telling a joke. the nickname you called him, his nickname that you oh-so fondly call him tastes bitter in his tongue.
unbelievable... there's something different about you, it's not the same you he's looking at anymore. he takes away his sunglasses hanging just below his nose, yet the image doesn't change.
you don't change into your old self, his heart breaks just a bit more.
yet he couldn't find the heart to attack you, standing frozen in his spot to take in your still-so ethereal form in his eyes, afraid that you'll disappear again; despite tim's warning signals on the new face of a villain.
he couldn't, because it's still you he's looking at.
you're still his sweetheart.
even if you don't share the same feathery whispers your voice had all those years ago. it's sharper, it stings conner's ears hearing the parched grate of your words, but his hearing still picks up the familiar innocence hidden behind it all; stained by the putrid world, corrupted until what's left was evil that he was so accustomed to dealing with.
he doesn't know what hurts more: your dead eyes losing its once angelic light, or how the same eyes stares at him like there was no romance that sparked between the narratives of your lives in the first place.
"... oh, (name)-sweetie, please tell me what happened...?" it hurts to talk, he had thought those therapy sessions with his other teammates could help him rebound with the break-up, but years of anguish don't heal, it builds up and it breaks at the slightest reminder of the past. it'll hurt either way, nothing helps.
nobody could truly control your true feelings. not even yourself.
losing his first, his one and only true love, that made him feel like he's deserving of existing in this world, that united the scars of being human and kryptonian; never knowing which side you're bound to be— calling him by his name, so sweetly and lovingly, the flutter of your voice curing all ails, feeling like the soft breeze of spring kissing his skin.
the sudden withdrawal of it all, the emptiness and befuddling emotions that comes after, losing someone who held the lock and key to your heart, whilst no answers are supplied in your thoughts from all the mind-numbing questions swirling inside your head—
it could break anyone, and it had broken conner.
conner just couldn't bury the tightening knot on his chest, how his throat seems to close in on itself, or the tears that began stinging the corners of his eyes.
"well you said it yourself, baby. people change, time changes and nothin' ever stays the same."
you speak as if your words are absolute, you don't even bother pretending to be happy at your reunion, you don't see conner as your beloved anymore.
"this is... this shouldn't be..."
happening? or was there a clawing notion in his heart that hoped with even your eventual change, that you'll still cherish him with all your soul despite the transformation, despite turning into a wanted criminal from across the nation?
because he could've understood, the neglect from your family, the emotional and even physical abuse, the misunderstood arguments and unheard requests. in all your special occasions, your birthdays, hell, even graduations and important milestones in your life, you're mistreated and broken. conner understood what it's like being rejected by the people you idolize, it's what made him notice you in the first place.
he could've helped hide you in a more safer threshold so nobody could hurt you anymore. all he really wanted was to be your sole exception to the corruption in your heart.
after all, he's still a man in love, bound by the precious memories and the neverending affection he feels for you, his soulmate. nothing in the world can change his dedication to see you smile, no matter how crooked and sadistic it is now— he was charged by your presence alone; you are, and always will be his motivation.
but you don't cherish him, you're different in a way that treats him differently too. and he doesn't want that, he doesn't want to be denied your love that he seeks in this cruel world. you're the only person in this universe that could topple the walls in his heart.
conner doesn't want to stand in his spot, looking at you any longer. at your cruel, yet beautifully glowing eyes and your body that he wishes to rest his clammy fingers on. he wants to kiss you, he wants to touch and feel you personally, forget all the mishaps you both went through just to spend another night alone together under the moonlight, dancing with the breeze of gotham's polluted and singing to the shouts of its citizens...
now all the questions form into a singular entity. it's what shatters his heart to pieces in the end, because you refuse to answer still. you refuse with a sadistic smile and a harsh laugh, going off in a tangent he couldn't understand; he wishes to understand with what's going on in your brain.
conner just wants to understand you, even if you're different now, because he still loves you.
so what happened to you...?
who took away conner's precious sweetheart?
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alchemistc · 2 days ago
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Let's goooo! 15. trembling hands
I already did this prompt but I've been steeping in a pile of blankets and a heating pad and miserable cramps for hours just thinking about this so:
"I just keep thinking about the last time you kissed me," Buck says, and he hates the waver in it, hates the way he has to set the neatly packed bankers box down on his island because his hands are shaking as bad as his voice.
Tommy gives him the kind of look he'd expect to see if he rounded a dark curve late at night and his headlights caught a deer crossing the road.
Total devastation lies ahead. Neither one of them gets out of this without a scratch.
He'd had a call, years back now. Some family driving home after an evening of movies and arcades and dinner, a nice newer SUV, a nervous creature who would have had plenty of time to cross into the woods but got stuck in the beam of light hurtling towards it. Until it tried to jump the vehicle right before impact.
The dad had died quick, Buck remembers. They'd only found that out later, though, because the deer hadn't died. Not then. Not right away. Not until after they'd arrived, because they'd watch the thing, stuck in the windscreen, panicked and dying and kicking.
Animal control didn't make it on scene until after the moms chest had been caved in.
Tommy's grip on the box in his own hands looks painful.
"It was just - it was the kind of kiss I figured we'd share a few thousand more times, you know?"
Nothing special, a barely there peck, an appetizer because they had places to be and they'd lost more than one reservation getting caught up before so they'd made it a habit of the greeting kiss being... quick.
"I just wish I'd known it was gonna be the last time."
It hurts to say. It hurts to think, but this one's been spinning on a loop every time he's got idle hands and an idle mind and it feels like Tommy should at least know that he -
"I have to go," Tommy says. He'd set this up with that excuse - I have some of your things, can I drop them off before work - like he could rip the bandaid and be done and Buck had spent twenty minutes folding and refolding the same pair of Tommy's sweatpants before he found the nerve to respond with a thumbs up.
"Yeah," Buck says, and takes a moment to drink in the sight of him a final time. Tommy's eyes dart to the hand still hanging at his side, fingers tapping out a rhythm against his palm, unlike the one holding onto his kitchen island like a lifeline.
This is it.
There's - nothing left to tie them together. No excuses to see each other again outside of random happenstance. He'd debated stuffing one of Tommy's zip ups into the bottom of his laundry basket for about ten minutes after Tommy let him know he was headed over, but that's in the box with everything else.
He has to look away when he realizes his vision's gone a little blurry.
"I'll... see you," Buck manages, and convinces himself he doesn't hear the blown out breath from where Tommy's standing.
He listens to the footsteps moving away. Hears the latch click and sucks in a breath so harsh Tommy has to hear it.
He remembers trying to shield those kids in the back seat from the sight of both their parents and wishes he at least had some bruises to show for the way his own chest feels like it's caving in.
The door clicks shut, and Buck turns towards it a second before he feels his chin being angled.
It's nothing like their first kiss, or the greeting kiss. This is the kiss he'd get when he couldn't shut the hell up about something and Tommy had to do something about it. The kiss they'd share when it became clear a movie wasn't holding his attention and Tommy pressed him into the couch cushions with a grin. The kiss he'd give when he was so overwhelmed by how he felt and didn't have the words to explain it so he'd poured every ounce of - of love into his lips and his tongue and his teeth because even if he didn't know how to say it he wanted Tommy to know.
It slows and settles into something soft and breathy and Buck lets the hand he'd curled over Tommy's jaw drop to his chest when they break it. Their breathing is shaky, and the hand clenched in the back of Buck's shirt shakes before he breaks the hold. Buck keeps his eyes closed. His throat is tight.
"That's - if I'd known it was the last one, that's the one I'd have wanted it to be," Tommy says, and then he's pulling away. Leaving.
The door clicks open and shut while Buck's eyes are still closed, and he stands there in silence for a good ten minutes until he's sure he can breath again. When he licks his lips he doesn't recognize the taste of the lip balm Tommy'd left behind there.
The box of Tommy's stuff is sitting on the end table.
It takes Buck four goddamn tries to type out a coherent text, with the way it's shaking in his hand.
You forgot to take your stuff, he sends.
Tommy's the kind of old school where he keeps his phone in the center console while he's driving, so he doesn't expect anything back immediately.
He refuses to let himself read into it at all. An honest mistake after leaving them both more hurt than the first time around.
He'll ask Chim to deliver it so they don't have to see each other again.
Forty-two minutes later, he happens to glance at his phone just in time to see the bubbles.
They disappear. Reappear. Disappear.
How forgetful of me.
And that's - that's all he gets for another five minutes. He nearly tosses his phone in the air when the bubbles come back, like somehow someone will have witnessed him staring at it hard enough to burn a hole through it.
Maybe you could bring it by sometime.
MVA, two adult males, significant internal injuries.
The bubbles are still there.
Think I may have forgotten a few of your things, anyway.
Buck doesn't believe that for a fucking second. He'd had a drawer, two hangers, a spot under the sink in the bathroom. Tommy's place had always reminded Buck how well suited they were, with how meticulously everything had a place.
Doesn't seem like you, Buck shoots back, and tries not to examine how close to the line of flirty he's being.
That was a terrible last kiss, Tommy sends back, almost immediately.
Buck's hands don't shake when he sends the next message. It's a blatant lie. It probably broke top ten. We could fix that.
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weaverreaver42 · 11 hours ago
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Ok but I want to talk about this, because I always viewed this as spider-man "mocking" people for things he believes are fine, but assumes the other person would HATE. Like, this is a traditionally macho guy in the 2000s, OF COURSE a Spidey of the time period would assume he's some level of homophobic. That stuff was so rampant that 40% of this post could just be about my journey of learning what the word gay even meant outside of a derogatory context.
In the same vein: Spiderman isn't going to think less of you because you are book dumb or mentally disabled, but telling a neurotypical 'I'm smart and therefore superior to all others' egomaniac that their expertise in a field is more of a "Hyperfixation, with a side of lucky competence" to get them to make a mistake in a fight out of sheer anger? Yeah, right on brand. If anything there's probably so many examples of him doing something just like that we take for granted. Spiderman doesn't have to actually think less of a people for a trait, as long as you do- he'll take advantage of it to piss you off and win the fight in any scrappy way he can.
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Spider-Man is actually an ally he's just a little silly
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thepixelelf · 2 days ago
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warnings: domestic animals. tags: established relationship. christmas stuff. wc: 869
this has been in my drafts since dec 2023 and I realized it was collecting dust so I wanted to just roll up my sleeves and finish it so... here you go!
[a little thing called bad timing] Everyone knows that Seungcheol is a dog person -- you most of all. There's not a day that goes by without him turning his phone to face you with Kkuma's adorableness on the screen, sent to him by his parents. Of course, you love those pictures. Kkuma is an angel, and if you were the jealous type, you'd probably be wary of just how much Seungcheol pampers her, but luckily, you're not. In fact, you absolutely understand his behaviour. Before your family's cat passed away when you were younger, you're pretty sure you took about a million pictures of her just... existing.
That said, when Seungcheol not-so-subtly hinted that he wanted a dog last Christmas, you had to let him down easy. Your apartment at the time wasn't pet friendly, and you honestly weren't in a place financially to support a puppy with the love and attention one would deserve. Seungcheol's pout back then almost broke your heart, but he knew you were right, especially when you said you couldn't afford a cat, either, even if you wanted one.
This year, though, you moved to a new building together -- where pet allowance wasn't a choosing factor, but an added bonus -- with much more space in your apartment. And earlier this fall, you got the promotion you've been gunning for since you got your new job.
Which leads you to now. Everyone knows Seungcheol is a dog person. Everyone also knows you're a cat person. But the adorable black and white puppy in your arms has completely won you over with its yips and jumps, the way it climbs straight into your lap when you sit down, and its adorably glimmering eyes. A friend of a friend's dog had puppies, and when they asked if you knew anyone interested, you thought of your own glimmery-eyed partner. It was about time.
There are still quite a few days until Christmas, but you're sure that if Seungcheol had a choice, he'd want to meet this precious pup sooner than later. You were lucky that Seungcheol told you he had to stay later at work today, meaning you could pick up the puppy from your friend and acclimatize her to your apartment before he comes home. You've been spending the time decorating, as well, and you consider the tinsel in your hand for a second.
"Hey girl," you say, crouching down and scratching your new puppy's head. "How do you feel about wearing a little gift-wrap bow?"
She doesn't answer, of course, because she's a dog, but you chuckle at the adorable tilt of her head anyway.
"Yeah, I agree. Too cheesy."
The familiar sound of the front door getting unlocked makes you lift your head. "Oh, he's here." You lift your finger to your lips in a shush even though the puppy obviously has no idea what that means, and you scoop her into your arms.
From where you're standing in the kitchen area, the front door is just around a corner and out of sight. One more time, you give the puppy a conspiratorial grin before peeking just your head around the corner.
"Welcome home--"
"Hey, I'm back--"
Your jaw drops as you take in your boyfriend, or rather, the crate he's poorly hiding behind his legs, and the giant, shiny red bow stuck to the top of it.
Seungcheol smiles the way he always does when he comes home and sees you. "What are you doing hiding back there? C'mere, I got something for you."
You don't budge. "Is that...?"
Understanding that you aren't coming closer, Seungcheol just chuckles and brings the crate out in front of him. The front grate reveals a fluffy, orange kitten behind it.
You gasp. "You didn't!"
He shrugs. "I thought, since you've been missing your childhood cat recently, and we got this new apartment..."
"Cheol, I..."
"Did I read it wrong?" Seungcheol's eyes shine with worry and doubt. When you can't find the words to explain yourself, he continues. "I'm sorry. I should've asked, I know. Minghao knew somebody looking for homes for kittens and I just thought about how much you like Wonwoo's cats and--"
The puppy in your arms has finally had enough of hiding, and she barks, hopping to the ground. She trots over to Seungcheol to thoroughly investigate the shoes he's yet to take off.
"Oh," he says simply, eyes wide at the surprise house guest. "Oh!" Carefully, he sets the crate on the bench you have next to the door, out of reach of the excited puppy. He crouches down and pets her with both hands. "Hello," he coos. "Aren't you precious?"
Your heart warms at the sight, especially when the kitten curiously paws at the door of the crate instead of cowering away at the sound of a dog.
Seungcheol looks up at you, delighted. "Who's this?"
Just like he did when you asked him about the kitten, you shrug. "Merry Christmas?"
He must've suspected as much. His smile widens as he stands, and he holds his arm out for you to come to his side. You wrap your arms around him and giggle when he presses a hundred kisses to your cheek, while the puppy bounces in excitement at your feet.
"Seungcheoool," you whine, though to say you don't like his attention would be a total lie.
His smile widens until his eyes become your favourite crescent moons, and he locks his hands together behind you. "You know," he teases with a playful tilt of his head. "I've always dreamed of having twins."
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kooqitas · 3 days ago
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𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝓾, 𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓪 𝓬𝓵𝓪𝓾𝓼
#pairing: santaclaus!scoups x reader ♡ smut [18+ mdni], pwp #warnings:ok, maybe i went a little over the moral line again but...
[MINORS DNI]
you were never a child who believed in santa claus, consequently you became an adult who didn't teach children about the old man, it was strange, you saw your friends from school having children and getting married and decorating christmas trees and you never understood why they cared so much about something superficial... of course, as the years went by, the act of living alone in another city completely affected the christmas spirit that you no longer had! of course, you're not some kind of grinch, you don't destroy anyone's christmas, you're just not involved in this celebration.
so this is the situation: it's past midnight and you're lying on the couch in your red pajamas while eating wine and a panettone, and yes, that was the height of your christmas spirit! you were watching some random christmas movie, but to be honest, you couldn't even tell the plot since you weren't paying the slightest attention.
you decided to go to the kitchen just to get another bottle of wine.
and that's when things went wrong.
you heard a loud noise as you left the kitchen, followed by a rustling of clothes. oh great, someone would rob your house on christmas day. okay, you're not the biggest fan of the date, but damn, doesn't the thief have a family?
you grabbed a knife, praying he didn't have a gun, but when you got to the kitchen you found only a hot man on your couch- what?
you screamed, he screamed, it was pathetic!
"who the fuck are you? why are you in my house?"
"what do you mean, who am i? santa claus!"
"fucking santa claus, get out of my house now!"
and you pushed the guy out, but when you turned around there he was again on your couch. what the hell was that.
"you know it's not very polite to kick santa claus out of the house, right?"
drunk. you were definitely drunk.
"hey, hey, hey, young lady!" the supposed santa claus yelled at you. "don't turn your back on me."
"dude, fuck you!"
santa rolled his eyes, extending his hand to you and giving you a smile. "you can call me seunghcheol."
"fuck you!"
at that point, you just accepted that you were delirious. santa claus doesn't exist. if he did, he wouldn't be in your house, much less so... hot and young.
"i can read your thoughts, respect me!" seungcheol scolded you, making you roll your eyes and laugh, doubting the telepathic power of the supposed santa claus. "i already understand that you want my dick in you, stop thinking about it!"
"wait. what?"
"damn, you really don't believe that i'm santa claus?" and you definitely denied it. who the fuck would believe that crazy story? "i'm here because someone wrote a letter saying that you needed an unforgettable night of sex."
"fuck, your job pays you so little that you became a prostitute?"
you laughed, and in the next second, santa claus was in his underwear. no, he didn't remove anything, they just disappeared and damn, he was so hot, you really wouldn't mind a night of sex with this crazy guy using inexplicable magical techniques.
"i can still read your mind!" he scolded. "you know what they say about girls who don't behave?"
"that they don't get christmas presents?" you scoffed.
"exactly. but apparently you're an exception, since i'm here today to give you a present... the best one."
"are you going to make me work in your toy factory?"
"no. your toy will be my dick making you dumb."
and the next minute you were on your knees for santa claus, his red underwear making it clear that he liked the present as much as you did.
......
okay guys don't kill me… should i finish it?
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yourlocalsmutwriter · 23 hours ago
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Okay - I see your Sex accidents and raise you “sex sent me to the ER” featuring formula 1 drivers !
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Anon, I love your brain. I had to endure so much of the terrible editing choices of the show for these drables, but worth it.
Nsfw under the cut, namely mentions of : penis and genital injuries, riding, fingering, handjobs, overall accidents during intercourse, I mean it's sex sent me to the er
Charles Leclerc - It was your first time attending the Monza GP and the atmosphere was electric. As a Tifosi, there was a surge of something in the air. And you could see everything unfold from the comfort of Charles' garage. Your boyfriend's performance was crucial, the track being filled with fans, their cheers practically making the ground shake under you. Saturday ended with a P4 in qualifying. Because of your location, there was no way that you could leave the hotel, aside from going to the track. You'd usually stay in Charles' motorhome, yet this time, you were on strict no sex orders from Maranello. You were mortified that all his bosses were that superstitious about his race. Truth was, Charles could pull through and show everyone a phenomenal drive. Now it was up to the engineers and strategist to help him make the right call. Lap 40 rolls around and Oscar's lead gets taken from him as he pits. Now the crowd favourite leads. The camera pans to you, there's a serene shot of you looking like the Maddona. Your eyes are razor sharp on the screen, filled with anxiety? Hope? Love? Pride. No one's sure. But there's so much want in them. The pit wall buzzes around you. Next few laps go in a blur, quite literally. By lap 50, you're counting down along with everyone. The fans, they're cheering for him now. Louder and louder, ear drum splitting. You're not necessarily a pious person, yet you pray. It doesn't take a lip reader to distinguish the pleas that fall from your mouth. 3 laps now. 2. 1. And the chequered flag is being waved. David Croft tells everyone that Charles Leclerc has won the Italian Grand Prix. You scream, along with your beloved, whose shouts of Si reach your ears. Tifosi and Ferrari team surround you from all sides. You let Charles enjoy his moment. Right now, he wasn't yours, he was theirs, king of Monza. Your time would come too. When he winks to you from the top step of the podium, you make a decision. Tonight, he would feel like a winner.
Charles' celebrations end with you, in the penthouse suite you had been upgraded to after his victory. Your boyfriend and you feel like newlyweds. There's even a cheesy Madonna song playing in the background. Like a prayer, well prayers is exactly what you will need after tonight, you think. The two of you are both naked, basically after the first kiss. Truth be told, you were always like hormonal virgins around each other. Insatiable. So you were straddling your winner on the soft plush bed. Reaching in for the box of condoms the hotel somehow snuck in there. Tifosi, you think. They wouldn't want your Charles to suddenly pull a Sebastian Vettel. Ignoring for a moment the weirdness,of it all, you reach for your boyfriend's dick.
You roll the condom on, and straddle Charles.
"You just sit back and relax." You tell him, after all winners get their prizes. You underestimate his size. Usually you love the slow stretch that he gives you, allowing you to get used to his girth. But now it's just too much, too big. You can barely get past the tip. And usually your boyfriend is nothing but patient. In fact, he's no stranger to cockwarming you, taking his pleasure in watching you squirm and beg against him. But tonight he's impatient. Maybe it's the delayed adrenaline from the race. Maybe it's the champagne that was like ambrosia for his throat. But tonight Charles Leclerc wants to be ridden like never before. So he thrusts up, bouncing you a little, bullying his cock into your pussy. And by your pleas for more, he does it again, this time more aggressively. His hips against yours, the way you're squeezing against him, it's too much. He can't bust in just a few minutes though, he is no two pump chump. So he pulls out almost completely and changes his angle. With a pop sound, he's in excruciating pain and his boner is gone. You roll away from him, frantically putting on your clothes as he's saying variants of "it hurts, it's broken and hospital now.".
Daniel Ricciardo - Danny wasn't the type of person who boasts. Flashing his money around just wasn't his style. But what he loved to do was a good celebration of success. That's why you were in a western themed bar in New York, freezing in a cowgirl outfit in December. His friends were there, encouraging you to take a shot to warm up, sweetheart. And he was the life of the surprise party.
You sprint to the reception and ask them to call an ambulance. You're not ashamed to use your boyfriend's celebrity status as you ask them to hurry. You don't care that this is straight from a sex sent me to the ER episode. You then take your fucked out and fucked up partner downstairs to wait. You're a wreck, crying, a little bit amused but overall terrified. How does one explain a dick injury? Would that affect his driving? Would Ferrari have to pull out their reserve because Charles wanted to ride you faster. This in combination with your nonexistent Italian was not a good match. The doctors give your boyfriend some anesthesia in the ambulance so he's out cold. You can't really explain to them what happened so you're banished to the waiting room. And there you find 3 out of the 4 guys dressed as Ferrari priests. They explain that the last one got alcohol poisoning and that's why they're here. Seeing you fine and recognizing you as Charles' WAG they immediately put two and two together. All you can say about their hero is "it's fractured, he was in so much pain, I don't know how he is now." They stay with you, offering to help with the language barrier. Somehow the staff agrees and all of you are in the room as your boyfriend's sleeping soundly, a bunch of machines hooked to him. One of the guy's starts talking to the doctor and the other two are praying? For Charles. With no other option, you join them. You know what they say about Italy. The two religions are catholicism and Ferrari.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
He had enough on his plate planning the pop-up, so someone from the Shopify team organized this. What they failed to consider was just how much of an entertainer your boyfriend is. The bar was open all night, and Daniel, bless his soul, felt bad for the workers. So it was onto the two of you to get the place into a shape close to what you found it before the opening crew was there.
Daniel somehow managed to sniff out the hidden Redbulls, and you got to work. Sticky floors were mopped, a dishwasher was loaded, and overall, it was looking okay. You were by the mechanical bull, scrubbing the contraption down. Allegedly, someone was letting out suspicious noises while riding it last night, and that was a visual you weren't trying to think about. Apparently, you were the only one because the sight of you bent over was affecting your partner.
"Wanna go for a spin on it? Have some fun after I roped you in this whole cleaning thing?" Your partner asks, coming up behind you. You agree, and he's hoisting you up, hands lingering on your thighs just a little longer than necessary. He gets behind you, the bull wobbling a little under the collective weight. Daniel doesn't care. Instead, he's kissing your neck, saying
"Sorry, I got too caught up in this. I know you probably wanted to leave and go to bed. Promise I'll make it up to you. How are you, having a headache?" You're a bit surprised at his sudden question, half expecting for him to make you get off and pop a Tylenol. But even as you say yes, he just replies with
"Luckily for you, I know a great cure." and sneaks a hand towards your leotard, moving it to the side.
"I mean, really darling, this outfit, I don't know how I was behaving all night. When all I wanted was to take you to the bathroom and make you suck me off. Have you sitting on your knees so prettily as people wonder where we disappeared off to." His fingers go from rubbing your clit slowly and teasingly, to picking up speed with every sentence. He doesn't miss how wet you're getting, how you're biting your lip to stifle your moans. He continued.
"Thank God you didn't wanna ride this earlier, because I don't think I could've resisted you. Had to bend you over right between the horns and fuck you right in front of all our friends. Make them see how well you take what I give you, how you'd hump me and beg for more.". Daniel then slips two fingers inside of you, enjoying how you're already riding them. So why not give you both a bit of a faster ride?
His shoe presses the button for the mechanical bull and the machine whirls to life. But as soon as it starts, he feels a zap right where his fingers are, fucking you. You double over in pain as he scrambles to turn the thing off. He succeeds and immediately calls an ambulance, asking for help. He just prays that his boner's gone before the paramedics arrive.
At least that happens, but the people know who he is. Nothing could compare to hearing "I'm a big fan of yours." from a girl as she was between your legs, examining your vagina. Worst of all was your boyfriend signing the bottom of a piece of paper saying "electrical burns to the pelvic region and genital area.". Danny's rings and bracelets were metal, in combination with your wetness, it was a great electrical conductor. That's how you ended up shocked.
"I'm sorry, honey. For the hurt and the embarrassment." He says, guilty that he remained unscathed and you were in pain.
"You're paying the hospital bill, Ricciardo." is all you can say through your painkiller haze.
Lewis Hamilton - your relationship with 7 time world champion Lewis Hamilton wasn't exactly something either of you were boasting about. Which led to you two sneaking around like teenagers. Climbing through a ground floor window, however, proves to be a bit more of a handful than expected. Lewis rolled onto your soft carpet with a thud. He was scratched by the bushes outside, deep red hashes lining his tattooed arms. Despite chastising you about not wanting to just lie and go out to a little discreet hotel, he's under you in a minute. You love being on top of him, thighs wrapped around him, in control. You're needy, grinding against him while you're both still clothed. You run your nails against his arms, just like he loves. But you forgot about his injuries. Lewis Hamilton is apparently very sensitive to pain and, despite his own opinion, has the same reflexes he had 10 years ago. He fucking flinches and literally throws you off him. Your body hits the headboard, ironically head first. Your saliva has a metallic taste and you can see fear on Lewis' face. Your front teeth are gone.
"Shocker." He says and laughs his trademark laugh as you tell him there's no way in hell he's rubbing the prescribed ointment on you now or ever.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
Fratboy! Lando Norris - Sports marketing students like you were passionate about certain things. For most, it was football, basketball, or other endeavors of the sort. For you, it was Formula 1. That's why you were standing in the corner of the sports bar, head to toe in Redbull merch. Even your makeup matched the team colors, with little hearts painted on your cheeks. And next to you was frat rat Lando Norris. Your mortal enemy. An insufferable man whose terrible taste in women was overshadowed by his terrible taste in F1 drivers. He was a McLaren supporter. The Brit constantly liked to brag that he used to kart and was still streaming with Max Fewtrell , who wasn't even the best Max on the grid. Truth was that when you each heard that the other one was a Max fan, you were ecstatic. May have led to a drink makeout session. But as soon as he asked for his jagerbombs to be mixed with Monster, you realized your mistake. So from then on, you loved fighting about whose team was better. The Max squared title war was in full bloom. And apparently, Lando thought that painting himself orange would help his friend.
"Thuck you, get me to the ER." You say.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
"Tangerine suits you." You say as the studio's in session. You're not particularly excited about what the commentators have to say, so you try to undermine Lando.
"It's papaya, and you know it." He replies.
"I know a lot of things. Like that after Brazil you can not say anything." You counter, talking about Verstappen’s phenomenal drive in the rain. But Lando wasn't letting up.
"And who won the sprint yesterday?"
"Rightfully, Oscar Piastri." Papaya rules was one of his sore spots. But actual second drivers were yours. So he asks
"And how many times did random cars out qualify Checo? I mean, really, a Sauber?”
Maybe it's the free shots. Maybe it's the bar getting fuller and fuller, forcing you to get physically closer to Lando. Maybe it's the fact that he's wearing a papaya crop top, and you can see that the body paint is indeed on the majority of his body. But as the red flag stops the race, the two of you are in a bathroom, testing the endurance of the sink countertop. Lando's lips are on your neck, and your hands are between his legs. You don't care that he's already stained your shirt, after all, Dutch orange also worked. But there was no way in hell you were letting him near your pussy. Hell no to that UTI, thank you very much. So you're subjected to his dirty talk as you keep stroking him. You slide your thumb over the head and it comes out sticky and orange?
"Lando, what the fuck, did you eat cheetos and jerk off before this or what?". He's freaking out as you show him more of the orange precum and you have to play the Dutch national anthem to get him soft enough to actually go to the campus doctor. You're scared that you're gonna be patient zero of a new STD called the “Norris” until they clear him. Turns out that for him to get into CHI DELTA whatever he was, they had to paddle his bare ass. And drunk college boys were not really known for their accuracy, so he took some hits to the balls too. Which then caused his sperms to mix with the body paint. He'd be clear in a month, but no sex or masturbation before that.
"See you on winter break, Lando. In 4 weeks. Speaking of 4, guess who's getting their 4th.." you can't finish your sentence because he hurls a hospital pillow at your head.
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abrthephantomq · 3 days ago
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You tell me I'm a good boy or a good pet and I'll melt in your hands. - Jazz, probably, when he figures out that he's a simp for Zim even if he doesn't realize WHY he's obsessed with him.
Zim this, Zim that - he's all you talk about, Dib. Maybe you don't actually hate him. Maybe you actually like, wanna suck his dick or something --
GAZLENE --
what? Am I wrong?
Nnn-- I mean -- yes. Yes you're wrong Gaz.
Hey, have you noticed there's lots more planes flying overhead around here, lately?
Yeah, that'd make sense and all, considering what happened last week.
What happened last week?
...........Dib. You know what happened last week.
I don't, actually -- oh no...
What is it? Why're you acting so weird? Like, weirder than usual?
Fuck I overshot.
What do you mean, you overshot?
Gaz, what year is it?
It's 2001. Why?
Month?
September --
Of course! That's what happened, last week. Thanks. I forgot for a second. That's all.
How could you forget about it? All you've been talking about is how Zim was the one who did all of it --
BECAUSE HE DID, GAZ.
What?
That was ZIM - he didn't manage to sell any candy bars so he lost our bet. He was so confused why humans weren't falling to their knees, terrified. In those EXACT words. I have a recording of him saying just that.
What the hell, Dib --
:voice recording plays - Zim sounds absolutely devastated: "they didn't even blink an eye when I put that city in ruins. How can these humans be so.... Eh? I forgot the word, what was I saying?
Oh. Yeah. These hyumens aren't scared of my super scary simulation of me destroying one of their precious cities! They just shrugged and said whatever. I don't want your fucking candy."
Do you humans not get enough moneys to buy these things? These are....really good chocolate. Like, I expected them to be sand based on the name of them, but -- they're actually good? Is this a PRIVATE school?
[Dib's voice can be heard in the background; he apparently planted a bug that looked exactly like The Bug --, right where Zim tended to look at himself in the mirror. Because Zim likes to talk to himself out loud - but he's gotta see his reflection to do it. But Zim's eyes are fucking terrible and he can't see shit, even with his occular implants. Even though he is an Irken Elite. You're not gonna get anymore information from me than that. Either way, you hear enough to know that it's Dib speaking, even if you can't make out what he's saying. But Zim can hear him even if Dib is WAYYYYYY. Over there bc of his antenna. Like. You can hear a Dib when he is in his home. That is how much better Zim can hear than Dib]
Did you really just hijack me, space boy? I'm trying to tell my part of the story here as the fly on the wall of every single moment the two of you think you're alone.
Bobby Dawn what are you doing. (Barbie Dan?)(nah, Bobby Dawn. But if you wanna say it where people hear the name both ways, go for it)
Anyways, Steven asked for my assistance with the next chapter of class clown. This ain't the next, next chapter, but it is a chapter that'll show up later down the road. He's gotta finish a Mr. sludgey POV, first.
This just the super unedited version done while I'm high bc I love creating bonds and strengthening them via writing them. That includes my TikToks and my journal entries I ain't shared with y'all and all the writing we ain't shared with y'all, neither.
Gonna go get myself some lunch now, tho. Been at this long enough. ❤️ Have a good day now, y'hear?
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district4loading · 14 hours ago
Text
Just Hold Me
Twice Sana x Male reader
6K Words
Content Warning: smut, fluff, really sappy, mentions of depression and abuse, kinda unrealistic elements
Minors DNI
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A/N: I came up with the plot for this one with a friend of mine who I met on here not too long ago. Super cool guy who enjoys my fluffier fics so I didn't mind writing this one.
Please enjoy this really... really fluffy fic. More to come!!!
-
That's what Sana does, and it's why you know that she's the love of your life.
-
It's the sound of the rain hitting the glass, the endless thudding against your bedroom window that has your attention. You stare at it silently, waiting for her to join you in bed as you lay there cold and almost lifeless. There wasn't anything profound about the harsh rainfall outside, you just needed something—anything—to focus on besides your thoughts.
The rooms dark and everything just feels so heavy. It always gets like this when you're alone. You've gotten better at distracting yourself but on nights like these when there's not one single thing that feels right, it gets so hard.
So you find yourself thinking again, your eyes so empty and lost without any purpose. You were in one of your depressive episodes which came around every few months. You've been able to hide it from her for a while now. You kept a smile on your face, you were never not there for her and you found yourself only letting out your true emotions in the shower or any time you had by yourself.
(Usually in the car right after work)
Being all emotional with Sana is something you never want to do. She's too perfect, too precious, and way too pure to have to deal with the absolute train wreck that you are. Something tells you that you need to be the perfect man for her, be strong, be stoic, be a protector. It's in the back of your mind and it's so loud and persistent that you actually believe it.
You can't be there for her if you're crying in her arms about your problems 
So when you see her beautiful face come through your bedroom door, you suck in every bit of sorrow and somehow manage to force a slight smile. She shuts the door behind her and climbs into bed right where she belongs, wrapped in your arms. You get the covers over you and then there comes the warmth that you've been longing for.
Even with her here, your mind is still going and your thoughts begin to swarm. You're too stuck in your head that you don't even notice the lack of words she spoke or the eerie and unusual silence that continues while she's in bed. You only hold her tighter and for the first time tonight you hear her soft voice and it immediately brings you back to reality.
"Y/n"
You only hum in response, staring into the dark room because the position you were in didn't allow you to face each other. You were both laying on your sides, your arms wrapped around her and your chest pressed flush against her back.
Sana brings her hand up and holds yours that rested on her belly "What's going on with you?"
The tone she uses nearly breaks you. It's how concerned she sounds, how genuinely worried she is about you. "What are you talking about?" You really try to make it seem like you have no idea what she means because you know that she shouldn't have to deal with this.
"You've been coming home from work late, you barely eat, and I feel like I haven't seen you smile in weeks"
Your heart sinks as you realize that you may not have been masking it well like you thought you'd been. Not at all.
You force a chuckle "I'm smiling right now" 
She turns over to face you, the side of her face sinking into the soft pillow as she looks into your eyes with serious worry. She doesn't even crack a smile at your joke. "Stop it, I mean a genuine smile. Something's not right... I can see it in your eyes"
"It's really nothing, I promise. Works just been a little stressful"
"Is that all?" 
"I promise, princess" You reach over to move her hair out of her face, then you caress her cheek.
Sana sees the way you nod and how you're looking into her eyes as you speak. She almost believes it but she still has a feeling that there's something you're not telling her. If only you knew how frightened she is about this sudden change in you. She's watched it happen in real time and it brings this uncomfortable twisting feeling in her stomach. One that comes anytime she thinks about it.
But she reluctantly nods after staring into your eyes for a moment "Okay" Is all she says before initiating a change in position. Sana nudges you to lay on your back then snuggles herself into your side, draping her leg just over your lower abdomen. Her arm comes next, landing on your chest. Then she kisses your cheek "I hope you know that I'll always be here for you if you ever need to talk, I love you" She mumbles into your skin.
"I love you too"
Those were the last words spoken before the silence came back and stayed for good. Sana holds you tight like she thinks you might go somewhere and then she falls asleep, leaving you to think about her words. The look in her eyes is now engrained in your mind. They were almost desperate, looking to you for any answer that could give her some knowledge or anything that she can use to help you. It couldn't be more obvious that you need it.
It's killing her and you haven't noticed until now.  
-
You couldn't sleep much at all and by the morning, you found yourself solemnly sitting on the edge of your bed deep in your thoughts once again. It was getting bad. So bad that you didn't even notice when Sana woke up. The moment her eyes flutter open she almost immediately feels it in the atmosphere—the darkness accompanied by the rain knocking against the window. 
She looks over to the digital clock on the nightstand.
Five AM
"Babe?" Sana mumbles through a stifled yawn, sitting up in the dim room. It's still kind of dark out but she can see you clearly. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes and gives in to a short yawn as she waits for you to hum like you always do, or turn around, or do something to at least acknowledge her presence.
She sits up and scoots over "Please talk to me, you're scaring me" She says it in such a cute and wholesome way with her voice as sweet as honey. She's navigated her way next to you, her feet hanging off the bed as she tugs on the hem of her shirt nervously.
It's only then when you're actually snapped out of every bad thought you were having. You look over into her wide eyes and you open your mouth to say something, to lie and tell her to go back to bed. But you can't because there's a lump in your throat so big you're unable to convey any words so instead you swallow and turn your head away.
"Please"
In one last effort to get you to say something, Sana pushes her hand through the space between your arm and your torso, then she holds your hand and interlocks your fingers. She squeezes her hand and you squeeze back to let her know that you're there. You look over to her one last time and she's silently pleading with her teary eyes. "Sana, I..." You pause and swallow again when your voice wavers.
She perks up "It's okay, take your time baby" She comforts you.
"I never told you but... I've been through a lot in the past and I'm fucked up because of it"
Sana gives you a look. It's pity and it's so prominent that you can't even bring yourself to look her in the eye. She's silent for a moment and you start to worry if it's all too much for her to handle. She shouldn't have to deal with someone who's got tons of baggage. "Why did you feel the need to hide it from me?" She asks as a tear rolls down her cheek. That's not the only one though, following it comes multiple, leaving streaks of clear dripping down her face.
"It's a long story and it doesn't matter now. All I'd be doing is wasting your time if you let me sit here and bitch about my problems all day long. You don't deserve that"
You turn your head away from Sana when you feel a tear threaten to fall and you blink it away as quickly as you can. "I will sit here for days and listen to your story if I have to! I'm your girlfriend, I deserve to hear it" She persists but you only keep your head turned away.
"It's irrelevant" 
A heavy, punishing silence follows your statement and you feel Sana let go of your hand and pull it away. You assume that she's going to let it go like you've told her to but instead she puts her palm flat on your back. There's this feeling of relief you get from it and when she begins to rub softly in circles, you feel comfortable again.
Then you look over to Sana because suddenly she's stopped the comforting motions and her eyes have seemed to go empty and there's this look of devastating shock on her face.
The thing is, she's seeing it all. All of your past experiences, the abuse, the negligence, the bullying, everything. Her breaths turn rapid as she sees it so vivid and clear. Graphic images of the torturous violence you've faced when you couldn't have been more than ten years old and then the nasty words they've said that's engrained so deep into your brain.
"Worthless" "Useless" "disgusting" "Kill yourself"
She hears it loudly echoing in her head then she gasps and a new rush of tears falls from her eyes.
You don't know what's happening but it's fucking terrifying and you try your best to snap her out of this trance-like state. "Sana" You call her name and grab her by the shoulders. Then you shake her a bit and with a blink she seems to be back "Are you okay? What happened?" You ask, your heart racing wildly.
Sana comes back, then she looks into your eyes again. But this time there isn't any pity. It's more-so understanding. Something about her gaze feels like she sees you, like she gets it and you didn't even have to say a word. "Oh" She almost sobs, then she whispers "My baby boy" and she wraps her arms around you.
Your heart melts completely and you finally break.
You cry into her shoulder, your tears staining her top but she could care less about it, she only holds you closer and tighter. She runs her fingers through your hair "My sweet prince" She starts, then she has to breath for a moment "You're perfect... you're enough... you're my everything."
"Sana" You shake your head, trying to reject it all, trying not to feel as much as you are right now.
"No" She pulls away from the hug, then makes a quick move to straddle your lap "I fucking love you... I need you" She holds your face in her hands so you have no choice but to look into her eyes. Those beautiful orbs that are so easy to get lost in. So much so that you don't even notice when she leans in to kiss you until your lips are already connected.
Your eyes shut and so do Sana's as you allow this newfound warmth to bind you. The kiss is so slow and sensual, you move your lips in unison with one another. You understand each other like that. If she parts her lips, you know your tongue should be in her mouth. That's exactly what you do. You lick into her mouth with a passion that tells her how much you love her—how much you need her. "I love you" You mumble into the kiss "I need you" then repeat what she said.
You can taste the salty mix of your tears, but neither of you care, you just continue to enjoy this kiss. It feels so good that you actually forget, you actually can't think of anything but Sana right now. That's all you've ever wanted to do. Your hands run up her top and you get a hold of the warm skin of her bare waist then you pull her closer to you.
Sana's hands leave your face, she grabs a hold of your shoulders and begins to push on them. You take the hint and lean backwards until you're laying flat on the bed with her on top of you. You shuffle around so your feet are also on the bed and she helps out with that. Then in no time, your lips are connected again and now you're back to devouring each other. 
"Please... I need..." Sana mutters through the kiss but then she breaks it completely and puts her hands on your chest "I need you" You nod your head and watch as she pulls her top over her head. You need her just as bad right now in this vulnerable moment when you have so much love to give--she's all you need.
So you take your tank top off, almost missing the way her breasts fall free from her shirt. Sana leans over again and kisses you, there's more passion in it this time and you reach your hands over to feel her body. Her skin is always so soft and warm. Moments later you let your hands gravitate to her breasts and you begin to massage them slowly, almost like you're kneading dough but with a bit less rigor and a bit more care.
She moans softly into your mouth and then she pulls away. Sana looks into your eyes for a moment, then scoots herself back so she's sat on your thighs. She grabs the waistband of your pajama pants and begins to tug on them. You raise your hips and allow her to strip you of your pants along with your boxers.
Sana takes your cock into her hand and pumps you to life with her soft hand (There wasn't much work to do because you were already halfway there). You prop yourself up on your elbows so you can watch the moment she lowers her head and sticks her tongue out. She licks the tip softly with her hand still holding the base firmly and then she takes you into her mouth. The first feeling of her soft, saliva coated lips has a low and long groan forcing its way out of your throat.
Her eyes lock with yours and she begins to descend, her hot mouth taking as much of you as possible. Once her lips, come into contact with her fist she comes back up and starts bobbing her head while she strokes you. "Fuck.. Sana - that feels so... good" You sigh while her velvety tongue scrapes against the underside of your cock.
It's one of the best feelings ever, the best part being that Sana won't take her eyes off of you. Although she can't speak, her eyes tell you everything that you need to know. She's looking at you with so much love and care that it brings you some actual comfort, like you two are the only living beings in the entire universe right now. Anything that matters or has ever mattered is now irrelevant, not even your demons could get to you in this bubble.
That's what Sana does, and it's why you know that she's the love of your life. 
You've known it for a while now but never has there ever been a moment like this thats made the fact so apparent. "I love you" There's a shudder in your voice when you say the words because she's doing everything right. Both her mouth and her hand are working together to please you and it only feels better the sloppier everything gets. 
In a moment, Sana withdraws her mouth with a popping sound following and she begins to jerk you off "I love you more" she smiles, then pokes out her tongue to let it rest against your tip so she can lap up the pre-cum leaking endlessly. "You ready for me?" There's a cute smirk that accompanies the simple question.
"Yes please" You nod and then you watch as she takes off her shorts and panties. Now her completely bare body is exposed to you and everything about it is pure perfection. "You're perfect" You sigh as she climbs on top of you.
Sana only giggles "Not as perfect as you my sweet prince." Her smile makes your pupils dilate nearly ten times as big as they already were. You didn't agree with her, but you let her have this one because there's no use in ruining this beautiful moment with something as morose as self deprecation. It doesn't at all change the fact that her words make you so feel warm inside that it might just be enough to make the thick ice in your cold heart thaw. 
She leans over, laying her soft body on yours and she kisses you softly. Your hands find her waist again—because they're supposed to be there—and you squeeze her supple flesh "I need you... so bad" You mumble the words desperately against her lips and Sana kisses you harder, reaching her hand down to find your cock.
It's throbbing in her hold, only for her and you feel her smile when she notices it. Sana lifts her hips and presses your tip into her entrance, wasting no time to lower herself nice and slow. Her tight cunt grips you firmly as she sinks down and you can't help but moan into her mouth as your nerves begin to register the heat. 
"Fuck" Sana breaks the kiss, her face only millimeters away from yours when her thighs land on your lap. Her face twists up, her jaw clenches and her eyes shut as she tries to get used to the stretch of your thick cock. "Your cock is so fucking..." She grits, exhaling a hot breath against your cheek before raising her hips and slamming them back down.
She connects your lips again and then she begins to ride you, moving her hips up and down in this slowed and steadied rhythm. It has you bucking your hips to meet hers half-way because she feels so fucking good. Sana moans into your mouth freely and loudly, struggling more and more to continue the kiss as she fucks you.
Soon enough, her mouth is hanging open and it's you doing all the work, kissing, licking and sucking her plump lips. 
There's something so perfect about being inside of Sana, especially when she's riding you. Her pussy wraps around you just right, like a tight warm hug (only it's sopping wet). With each movement she makes lighting each one of your nerves on fire to make sure that you feel the almost electric pleasure. It's how she moves her hips with such direction and purpose that has your toes curling and your heart pumping. Then it's the way her cunt clenches occasionally when you're completely buried inside.
Sana's an expert at this, she's mastered the art of riding you at this point in your relationship. She knows exactly what movements make you tick, how to moan your name, how to praise you--all to get you reeling with her name on your lips.
She knows you like the back of her hand.
She lifts herself a bit then plants her hands on your shoulders and she begins to roll her hips back and forth in a way that has your eyes threatening to roll back into your skull but you keep them on her. You have to see it. How perfect her tits look bouncing with the force of her motions, the pleasureful look on her face, the lust in her eyes and the sweat beading on her flushed body. Sana looks too perfect right now for you to miss anything.
"Sana, your pussy... feels so damn good" You moan, hands still holding on so tightly to her waist that you're leaving marks. "I fucking love you" 
"You're so perfect, my love" A warm smile shows on her lips, she takes your hands and interlocks your fingers, pinning your arms to the bed. "I can't imagine... fuck" She moans involuntarily and she's getting close already "I couldn't imagine life without you" She admits through her warm haze.
"I'm not going anywhere, princess" You promise with so much conviction it's like God himself is speaking through you.
Because Sana fucking needs you just as much as you need her and you just can't let this depression eat you alive when you have her.
You won't. 
Sana's the opposite of a liability. She only uplifts you, she makes you feel so good about yourself that you'd think you were on top of the world. She makes life worth all the bad and she's probably the best thing you have in this life. She's someone you can brag about without fail or embarrassment.
That is where you find some hope. Some actual hope in the sea of despair you've been floating lifelessly in.
"I-I'm close" Sana warns, snapping you out of your thoughts and it's definitely coming. You see all the signs. The way her hips stutter, how she's just bouncing her petite ass on your lap with her eyes shut and her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. There's also that pulsing inside of her wet heat that you just can't ignore.
She's right there
When she starts struggling to make her movements smooth, you take her waist back into your hands. Then Sana falls forwards, some of her brown hair getting in your face as you hold her in place tightly so she cant move. Before Sana can even complain about it you're using nothing but your core strength to piston your cock into her at a speed so ungodly it has her jaw dropping.
"Yeah - Yeah just like that, princess. Cum for me" Your voice shakes as you sing her praises because your body could give out at any moment if you keep fucking her like this. You begin to break a sweat, your cock burning up as you fuck her soaked cunt. The noise is filthy. Now that she's gone silent, you can hear it loud and clear. Every sticky squelch when your hips meet the backs of her thighs is so obscenely loud in your ears. "Come on, Sana" You nearly heave into her ear.
Then she begins to shudder and you know you have her when "Ah fuck baby I'm cumming. I'm fucking -" she cuts herself off with a vocal moan. Her slick wets your entire lap, spreading everywhere as her hips go wild in an attempt to ride out her high. You never stopped grinding into her either, all deep and slow inside so she'd feel every inch as she cums. "God" She sighs and then she stops moving and you follow suit.
Sana weakly brings her head up and connects your lips again. You kiss back, immediately pouring your entire heart into this kiss because she deserves it. She deserves everything. When she starts moving again you stop her with your hands "Baby" She whines, then your lips disconnect. She pouts at you "I want to make you cum" She tries moving again but you don't say anything.
You flip her over gently, then get yourself between her legs "I want us to cum together" 
She looks into your eyes then lifts her hand to caress your cheek softly "Whatever you want my sweet prince" You nearly melt at the term of endearment because it makes you feel so connected to her. The genuine tone in her voice accompanied by the softness makes it even more intimate and the 'my' signifying that you're hers because you'll always be. 
It's one of your favorites.
Sana notices how your eyes soften as you look into hers and you don't even break eye contact when you guide your tip towards her begging entrance. As you slide in, her eyebrows furrow, but she keeps looking at you with those big beautiful eyes. You lean over to put your lips on hers once more and that's when you begin to move. 
You make sure Sana feels every single inch, the way you fuck her with such a slow, burning passion. It lights her heart on fire. "I can't - baby.. you're so deep" She's losing it at the angle because nothing compares to the way your cock rubs against her walls, just brushing past all of her tender spots. 
The only thing you do is kiss her harder, your tongue exploring the warm confines of her mouth. Kissing Sana has always been one of your favorite intimate acts to do with her and if she'd let you, you'd have make out sessions that last hours upon hours on end.
Sana takes your lip in between her teeth as you pull away and then she lets go, her moans soft when you pick up the pace. You duck your head into her neck and you begin to kiss, lick and suck on the soft skin "Do whatever you want, I'm yours baby" Sana assures you, running her fingers through your hair as you begin to leave sweet marks on her. 
You increase your speed a bit, not so much that it feels punishing but enough for her to know that she feels so good that you almost can't help yourself. "So wet and tight for me, princess" You growl against her skin and Sana begins to lose her breath.
"Yes - right there - fucking hell baby" Sana gasps, her arms wrapping tightly around your body. She stops herself from scratching even if she wants to and in the back of her mind she know's you would never mind it. 
Either way she only hugs your body close to hers.
"Princess... I hope you're almost there cause... I" You almost whimper the words into her neck.
"Shh- I know baby, just go ahead" She rubs the back of your head in a way that feels so good that it's almost like magic. "Inside" and then a small gasp escapes her lips and before you know it, your cock is spasming inside of her and you're filling her tight cunt, painting those perfect velvety walls white. A choked groan escapes your lips and tears begin to brim your eyelids as the pleasure takes over your entire body. It has you nearly shaking, making the most expressive 'O' face you've made in maybe months.
"Fuck" You groan as you keep thrusting, fucking your load so deep it'll probably slip past her IUD. Then when everything else subsides, your cock almost goes numb as you try your hardest to get Sana there no matter what because she deserves it.
"Don't stop" Sana begs, and her voice sounds so desperate when she does because she's so close. All it took was for her to feel your cock spraying your warm cum inside of her to get her there.
When Sana's chest begins to rise you know you've got her "There you go baby, cum for me" You whisper and that's when a strangled—almost sob-like—moan leaves her mouth. You keep the pace to fuck her though it as she shudders through her orgasm.
You stop completely and you two just lay there in that position for a moment. Soon Sana begins rubbing the smooth skin on your back and you take a deep breath "I love you" you murmur.
"I love you" She begins and you give her a moment to gather her thoughts. You'd give her all the time in the world if you could. "I know I said it already but you can tell me anything. No matter what. I don't care how long it is or how fucked up it is, I want to hear your story. I need to"
"You won't look at me the same after" You mutter weakly, still not moving from where you are.
Sana stays silent for a moment "Yeah, maybe you're right" She starts off and it catches you off guard a bit but then she continues "When I look at you, I'll see someone strong. Stronger than who you were before because whatever you went through, it couldn't have been easy to endure. Most people would've already given up"
You finally decide to get off of her and you sit up on the bed. "How would you even know that?" The question might've seemed harsh but Sana knows you don't mean it like that. The reason you ask is because its scary. So scary that she's saying all the right things.
It's almost like she...
"Because I saw it!" Sana sits up as well, kind of regretting how her words come off "Well, glimpses of it" She corrects, then begins to think again and you allow it because you have no clue what to say at all "When I touched you, before we..." She shakes her head "I saw like... small pieces of everything. I saw the abuse, I heard the words.. I just... I couldn't believe it"
You only tilt your head because it's all you can really bring yourself to do. This revelation is nearly bone chilling and so inconceivable that you force yourself to believe that she's lying whether or not if it was out of character for her to joke or lie in a situation like this. "Sana that's not funny" You sort of scold her, but your voice isn't at all cold about it.
"I'm not joking" She insists.
Then, in your bedroom at maybe seven-ish in the morning, with the rain still hitting the window, Sana explains everything she saw in her visions in detail.
That's when you come to really believe that she isn't joking.
-
The warm water from the shower head cascades down your body smoothly and comfortably, nothing like the harsh rain outside. You wrap your arms around Sana and rest your chin on her shoulder "So if you already saw what I went through, why do I need to re-tell it to you?" are the first words spoken for the entire duration of your time in the shower. 
It started off silent, the two of you cleaning each other and kissing as you enjoyed the hot water and each others presence. It was a well needed contrast from the endless talking you did in the bedroom just before. You can see the soft smile on Sana's face in the reflection of the glass door "Well, I didn't see everything" She turns around in your arms "and it'll be good for you to say it out loud, I mean I don't expect you to be better in a day. I get that it takes time but-"
Sana stops talking when you put your lips on hers, leaving a small peck on her lips. "Listen princess, you're not my therapist. I don't wanna dump that burden on you. You understand that it wouldn't be good for us, right?" It's true, treating your significant other like a therapist can lead to many bumps in a relationship. But maybe that's just another excuse as to why you've been hiding everything from Sana.
"Oh? Where'd you learn that?"
"The internet" You shrug
Sana puts her hand on your bare chest and looks into your eyes, with those loving eyes. "Well, I may not be a licensed therapist but it's important for me to know because I'm your girlfriend and I want you to be able to open up to me like I open up to you about everything" You open your mouth to say something else but Sana shushes you then she reaches for the shampoo "Now wash my hair for me, pretty please?" You can't help but smile because she's so adorable.
When Sana turns around and tilts her head back, you grumble "I still think its super weird that you have like... superpowers."
"How do you think I feel? I'm still freaked out about it" She whines playfully as you lather her hair in her shampoo. The scent is warm and floral and you can't help but lose your breath trying to inhale more and more of it. It's one of those scents that only Sana has. So to you, it quite literally belongs to her, no matter who else may use it.
-
"The rain stopped" You mutter softly to the girl laying on your chest with her leg thrown over you. Sana only hums at your realization and you turn over to look at the window. It's covered by your curtains because you've both decided to go back to sleep but you can still see the sun peaking through.
You smile softly, thinking about how you agreed to tell her everything when you wake up. It doesn't feel scary anymore. In fact, you were actually looking forward to getting everything off your chest. You know you'll probably end up crying in front of her again--which you're still a bit embarrassed about--but you also know that she'll be there to hold you and knowing her she'll probably cry too.
That's when you eventually doze off, and for once it's easy.
"Babe?" Sana calls your name but she only hears your heavy breathing and from that she concludes that you're asleep. She innocently shifts just a bit to make herself more comfy and it happens again.
She sees something
At first it's kind of blurry so it's difficult for her to make out but as it gets clearer, she realizes that it's the both of you cuddling in bed together.
Then just like that, it's gone. Sana jumps, a small gasp escaping her lips and it wakes you up. "Whats wrong princess?" You ask tiredly, blinking when you notice the tears running down her cheeks. "Bad dream?" 
Sana only shakes her head "No... baby, it's beautiful" she cries. You try to sit up because you're really concerned but Sana stops you. "Just let me hold you" She sniffles and you reluctantly nod, allowing her to wrap her arms around you the best as she can.
You're put at ease because she doesn't seem sad at all.
It's almost like she's right where she wants to be.
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runninriot · 24 hours ago
Text
Pining Idiots
written for @steddieholidaydrabbles day 28
prompt: pining | rated: T | wc: 1.000 | tags: post vecna, mild angst, feelings realisation, love confession, friends to lovers, best friend Robin Buckley
   "You are both so stupid. Hopeless and stupid." Robin throws her hands in the air, frustrated and all out of patience.
Steve must've heard her say those words about a hundred times already but still, he can't find it in him to believe that there's even a flicker of truth within her reasoning.
If Robin were right, Steve would've caught Eddie by now, apparently stealing glances at him. Because there's no way he'd miss Eddie's dark eyes lingering on him, not when Steve's own - for whatever reason - are constantly locked on the guy. He feels naturally drawn to Eddie, has this weird connection to him he can't really explain. But contrary to what Robin is trying to make him consider, he doesn't accept that it's... love.
They're friends. Good friends, maybe even the best. Grown so close over time that now, barely a day goes by where they don't spend time together. Always attached at the hip, somehow even worse than he is with Robin. And yes, Steve gets that it comes off strange for any outsider to see them cuddling and touching and kissing each other goodbye on the cheek without shame. That's not what male friends do, not usually. But fuck that, it's nice.
He enjoys the physical contact. Likes to relish in the other man's warmth when their bodies are pressed together on the couch, one arm around the other's shoulders, or a hand resting on the other's thigh. He likes the familiar scent of leather and cigarette smoke that clings to Eddie's hair and skin, enveloping Steve's senses whenever they're close. Eddie's presence calms him, makes him feel less on edge. After all those years of fighting Demons, it's a blessing to feel at ease.
Eddie is good for him. And Steve knows he, too, has an impact on Eddie. That he's less fidgety when Steve is near. That whenever the healed wounds start to phantom-ache, Steve's hand atop his shirt soothes his body's memorised pain.
They're each other's lifeline, something to hold on to when the turbulent waters of nightmarish dreams threaten to pull them down. This... trauma bond they share, this friendship, keeps them both afloat. But that's all there is to it.
They are not the pining idiots Robin says they are. Apparently too afraid of their feelings for each other, unable to acknowledge that there is something more between them. Emotions allegedly written all over their faces – Robin says it’s obvious, but it’s not.
This isn't love.
It can't be. Steve cannot let himself fall for this ridiculous idea. Because once he goes down that path, once he starts listening close to his heart in search of the truth, there will be no going back.
And he's not ready to lose what he has. Because inevitably, that would be the result of him breaking down the walls he's built to keep his own emotions in check.
Steve cannot love like a normal human being. He is too much, wants too much, gives too much - his love is smothering. All-consuming.
He'd only push Eddie away.
   "Why don't you just ask him?"
Robin's words rip him out of his thoughts and he blinks at her confused.
They're still standing in the kitchen, their friend's voices coming from the other room.
   "You know, if you don't believe me, why don't you ask him if it's true? And if it's not, well. You got nothing to lose. 'Cause you're not in love with him anyway, right?"
He doesn't miss the teasing tone, knows she's testing him, trying to break through his thick skull because she knows that he's lying to himself. Knows him better than he knows himself.
   "And what if you're right?" he asks, seemingly catching her off guard with his question.
   "What if you're right and he does love me back. What then? You really think I won't fuck it up again this time? That I won't ruin it again?"
It hurts to say out loud, to admit that his worst fear isn't rejection. It's the thought of having himself to blame for when it doesn't work out. As always.
And it hurts even more when Robin's face suddenly softens, eyes full of pity when she takes his hands in hers.
   "Babe. It wasn't your fault. Nancy- wasn't the one for you, that's all. You were both meant for someone else, and you-" she squeezes his hands for emphasis, "You could have all those things your stupid, big heart is yearning for. Your person is sitting right there, probably already losing his mind because you've been gone from his side for too long."
Robin laughs but her eyes are glassy and Steve can feel a tear making its way down his own face.
Fuck her for always hitting him right where it aches the most. Where her unforgiving honesty settles and sticks and makes something warm spread in his chest.
   "I know he loves you. And, as dreadful as the thought is because you two are going to be the worst couple ever, I hate to see you both suffer over nothing. Just talk to him. Tell him how you feel."
She pulls him into a hug, holds him tight while he lets his tears fall unrestrained. It's relieving but scary, because she is right.
   "Hey, uh, everything okay?" Eddie's voice suddenly breaks through the silence, startling them apart.
   "Glad you're here," Robin says, "Steve's got something to tell you." And with that, she leaves, a big grin on her face that only grows wider when Steve huffs out a wet laugh, mouthing 'I hate you' at her.
   "Stevie, are you okay? Have you been crying? What's wrong?"
Steve melts at the softness of Eddie's words, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.
   "I- I think I'm in love with you, Eddie."
After a moment of silence, Eddie's lips curl into a smile.
   "Oh, well. If you're sure, let me know. I've been dying to finally kiss your pretty mouth.”
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enderlovez · 2 days ago
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Big Secret
Spencer Reid x BAU Reader WORD COUNT: 2100+
Summary: You've tried to hard to keep your daughter a secret from Spencer after her father left, but what happens when this secret finally comes to light?
Content Warning: fear of abandonment, abandonment of pregnant woman, reader gets anxiety
A/N This was requested, and I'm not to sure how I did here. There'll probably be a bunch of mistakes because I'm really tired right now.
────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────
The first time Spencer asks if something's wrong, you almost laugh. Not because you find it funny in any sense of the world, but because there is something wrong, and you can't find it in yourself to tell him.
He's studying you with those piercing eyes, like he can read every thought you've ever had. His brow is furrowed in that way that makes him look younger than he is, and for a split second, you wonder if he really can hear your thoughts.
"You've been a little off lately," he says, the concerns in his voice too subtle for most people to notice, but you hear it. "Is... everything okay?"
You smile, forcing the curve of your lips to stay steady. "Everything's fine, Spence. Just a lot on my mind, you know?"
It's the truth. Sort of. Work is, as always, chaotic as hell. But there's something gnawing at you, something you can't make yourself say out loud.
Spencer doesn't push, but you know he's watching, waiting for you to say more on your own. That's the thing about him—he's patient, a quality you greatly admire. But when he wants something, he tends to get it.
You've had a few drinks together after work, spent quiet hours in coffee shops, talking about cases, about books, about life. You think you're starting to let yourself like him.
You think he might be starting to like you, too, even though the lines between friendship and... something more are still blurry, and you haven't yet figures out how to cross them without making a mess.
Then, of course, there is the little secret of your daughter—the very secret that keeps you up at night, wondering if you've already ruined whatever future could happen.
"Is everything really fine?" Spencer asks again, his voice a little softer now, like he's trying to coax the truth out of me without making it feel like an interrogation. It feels like one anyway.
You nod quickly, maybe a little too quickly. "Yeah. Really. Just... personal stuff."
He watches you for a beat longer, clearly not entirely convinced, but also not going to press for more. Spencer isn't like that. He respects boundaries. He respects you, in a way that makes your chest tighten every time he looks at you, like you're something he can lose if he doesn't handle you with enough care.
And maybe that's it. Maybe you're afraid of him seeing the part of you that isn't as easy to love, the part that you're still learning to love yourself.
Maybe that's why you've kept Isla a secret, but you've never mentioned her in passing conversations, or even when he asks about your life outside the job.
You want him to see you as someone who can go out for a drink after a case without having to worry about a three-year-old waiting for her mother to come home.
But that's not you. You've got Isla. You've got your little girl, and one day, Spencer's going to have to know, as terrifying as that thought is to you.
You're not ashamed of your daughter, you could never be ashamed of your little girl.
But the last man who found out about her—her own father—ran for the hills before she was even born. The thought of Spencer doing the same, of him walking away the second he finds out about Isla, has been eating away at you from the first time you went out together.
You tell yourself it's not about him being a bad guy, because he's not. Spencer's kind and thoughtful and he doesn't seem like the type of man to judge.
But it's not like you can help the fear, that he might not want a woman with a child, especially one as young as Isla. She's the center of your world, she will always come first, and you can't risk losing Spencer for the same reason you lost Isla's father.
"Are you sure?" Spencer's voice cuts through your thoughts, soft and insistent. He's still looking at you, like he's waiting for the truth to slip from your lips, like he knows it'll happen eventually. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"
You swallow hard, the lump in your throat making it a little difficult to breathe. His words, so simple, so caring, somehow makes the weight on your shoulders heavier.
What would it feel like to tell him?
To let him in, to share this huge part of yourself with someone who could very well walk out of your life when he finds out?
It's easier to just nod and pretend everything's fine. It's easier to lie, to keep him at arms length, than risk him seeing who you really are—a mother, sure, but also someone who's terrified of being left again.
But Spencer doesn't deserve that. You know he doesn't deserve that, to keep wondering what's going on inside your head when he's done nothing but be there for you, day after day.
"I..." You hesitate, your breath catching in your chest. "There's something I should tell you, but it's really... it's going to complicate things."
Spencer doesn't say anything right away. He just watches you, and for a brief moment, the distance between you feels impossible to manage. You take a step forward, closing that space as best you can.
"You don't have to tell me if you're not ready to," he says finally, his voice so gentle that it almost breaks you. "You never have to feel obligated to tell me anything, I just want you to know I'm here if you wanna talk."
And right then, something shifts.
You're not entire sure what, but something deep inside wonders if maybe—just maybe—it might be time to tell him about the life you've tried to hard to keep hidden. About your precious little girl, and about her father who she's never known, and about the fears that keep you awake at night.
About the little girl who's waiting for you at home, her smile the only thing that keeps you going when everything else is so shaky.
"I have a daughter," you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "She's three. Her name's Isla."
He blinks, processing, before his expression softens. He doesn't say anything at first, just watches you with (gorgeous) eyes of his that feel almost like they can see right into your soul.
You hold your breath, waiting for his reaction. You're expecting him to step away from you, to give some polite excuse and walk out the door.
But instead, he surprises you. "I'd really like to meet her, if that's something you'd be okay with."
You blink at him, feeling your heart skip a beat. "You... you would? You want to meet Isla?"
Spencer smiles, just a little, but it's blindingly bright in your eyes. "Of course, I want to meet the little girl who obviously means so much to you."
────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────
You stand outside your apartment door, fingers nervously playing with the strap of your bag, suddenly feeling like you're about to do something you can't undo.
Which, you are, but that doesn't stop your heart from thumping uncomfortably, or your stomach from fluttering with anxiety.
Spencer's standing beside you, his eyes scanning the hallway, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He looks calm, maybe even a little curious, but you can tell he's waiting for you to make the first move, to invite him inside where everything will change.
It helps knowing that, if you happen to change your mind, he'll leave the second you ask him to.
The familiar hum of the building's old pipes is the only sound between you. You're about to let Spencer see Isla. You're about to let him into this part of your life you've kept so carefully hidden. And it is terrifying.
It's one thing to share a drink or talk about drinks. It's an entirely different thing to show another person the most vulnerable part of yourself.
The next door over swings open, and your neighbor, Maria, steps out. She looks up from her phone when she spots you, waving with the hand that's holding Isla's favorite stuffed bunny—she probably left it there at some point.
"Hey, just finished feeding her a few minutes ago," Maria says with a smile, but there's a hint of urgency in her voice as she checks her watch. "I was just 'boutta call you, gotta head out. You good here?"
You nod, forcing a smile as you take Isla's stuffed animal from Maria. "Yeah, thanks. She's been good today?"
"She's always good, she's a sweetheart," Maria says before turning on her heel, heading towards the stairs with quick steps. She glances back at you once to make sure you're alright before she's gone.
You watch her go, your breath catching in your throat as you unlock the door.
Every part of you is screaming that this isn't a good idea, that you're making a huge mistake by letting Spencer in, but you push those thoughts away as best you can, forcing yourself to step inside and gently pulling him by the sleeve of his jacket.
"Come on in," you say, trying to sound casual, but the words sound all wrong in your own ears, and they surely sound the same to Spencer.
Spencer hesitates for a moment before stepping through the doorway. The second his foot crosses the threshold, something in the air shifts, though neither of you can name what it is.
Isla's small shoes are lined up neatly by the door beside yours, and you can hear her humming softly from the living room. It's the sound of home.
Some of the anxiety fades away. It's more strange than anything to have Spencer here, where it's all real and in front of him.
You move towards the living room, trying to steady your breath. There, sitting on the floor with a coloring book spread out in front of her and a variety of markers and pencils at her side, is Isla.
Her hair's a bit messy, the way it always gets after a nap, but her wide eyes light up the moment she notices you.
"Mommy!" Isla calls, her little face breathing into a grin as she scrambles to her feet. She's barely two and a half feet tall, one of her little hands clutching her stuffed bunny tightly, the other wrapped around your legs.
You plop down on the sofa and ruffle her hair affectionately, a soft smile gracing your lips.
And then, she sees Spencer.
For a moment, Isla just stares at him, wide-eyed and quiet. Spencer's already crouched down, his hands resting gently on his knees, not moving, simply waiting for her to decide if she'll approach him or not.
You hold your breath, watching the moment unfold in real time—you've never had to share this part of your life with anyone. You've never had to share her with another person. And for a brief moment, you're more worried about how she'll react.
And then, like she's made up her mind, Isla takes a few tentative steps toward Spencer. She looks up at him, her face a picture of innocent curiosity, and before either of you can say anything, she reaches out, quickly offering him her stuffed bunny.
Oh, thank God.
Spencer looks at the bunny, then back at her, his expression softening. "Thank you," he says, his voice gentle, as it's as if a part of you clicks into place. Like he's not only accepted you, but now, he's accepting Isla, too.
He's accepting your baby, and you feel like you're going to cry.
She smiles up at him, and for a second, it feels like everything's going to be okay. He doesn't look at her like she's an obstacle, or like he doesn't know what to do.
He looks at her the way he always looks at you—with patience, and something else that you have a hard time naming.
Isla giggles, her small hand still holding the bunny, as then she shyly crawls into your lap, hiding her face against your chest.
Spencer chuckles, the sound low and warm, as he sits down beside you, observing the interaction. You rub your hand up and down Isla's back and press a firm kiss to the top of her head.
After another quiet moment, Isla crawls off you again, sitting back on the floor in front of her coloring book.
"So, uh, do you like coloring?" Spencer asks, his voice carefully light, as he looks over at Isla, who's now holding a crayon like it's the most important thing in the world.
She nods solemnly, but then grins up at him. "I like pink," she says, matter-of-factly, and then she goes back to her drawing.
Spencer's eyes twinkle with amusement. "Pink's a great color," he agrees, and you can't help but smile.
Maybe this isn't so bad after all.
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jubburb · 1 day ago
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Choso Kamo࣪ ִֶָ☾. (Fem! Anatomy)
On the 3rd day of Christmas that Santa gave to me
only the 3rd day because I forgot to post on the actual day 😀 (not proofread)
ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩
Choso who would most definitely ask you if he can suckle on your breasts. He's always wondering if there's something inside it, all plump and round. There has to be, right?
Choso will find it so confusing that something that grows like that on your chest would not have anything inside it at all. Like those cow breasts that give out milk.
Choso chooses to experiment and sucks on your nipple, doing it gently so he doesn't hurt you. Who would've known it would get Choso addicted.
Choso describes it like a pacifier, a thing babies suck on that doesn't have flavor. But then he retracts that statement, saying yours tastes delicious.
It becomes a habit of Choso's now, frequently coming to you for comfort, only to end up sleeping on your breasts after nursing like a baby.
You try to stop to stop Choso from doing it often, since it makes your nipples swell. But he doesn’t want to stop and tries to convince you that it’s good for him. Of course you don’t buy it, but you still let Choso continue because he’s cute.
Although now the habit has become concerning. Every time Choso takes a small nap, his go-to instant nap time is your breast. You would be doing something and he just lifts up your shirt, looking for your chest.
Now you limit Choso's suckle time. Because somehow the algorithm on your phone knew that someone was breastfeeding off you and they were certainly not a newborn child and made you worry about his teeth. If he keeps doing that consistently, his perfectly good front teeth will slowly turn into buck teeth.
Choso whines, expecting you to give in again. But since this concerned his well being, you were firm. No is a no, and that's final.
He listened to you, is what your thought was. What you don't know is that Choso comes to you at night, checking if you're awake. Only then would he be able to feel and taste your breast once again. Now, you wake up every morning wondering why your nipples are super swollen and sensitive. How naughty of Choso.
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absolutebl · 24 hours ago
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2024 BL - Top 10 Trend Report
In last year's rend report I said:
"I think Taiwan has the chops to give us something as good as The 8th Sense or Old Fashion Cupcake but in their style, and I would like to see them exercise their talent for good rather than just profit."
And Unknown happened.
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I asked for it, they gave it to me. I could not be more happy. So anyway, I just wanted to crow a bit.
And now...
2024's TRENDS!
1 Trope Subversion Levels Up
My Stand In went so far as to subvert the whole damn romance genre. But in general we saw a lot of BL recognizing, highlighting and calling out it's own absurdities and tropes. From Korea commenting on the Dead Fish Kiss to Wandee Gooodday actually promoting green flag behavior (the real deal).
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It was an interesting year for meta commentary, it kind of whole scale left parody behind (say goodbye, Japan) and entered almost every BL from Thailand, even the ones who should have left it alone. (Side eyes Mame.)
2 Old Tropes Revisited
Unknown revisited the step-brother trope (as did Addicted Heroin of course). But there were other old ones we haven't seen in ages, like kidnapping for love, kissing on rooftops, and all the dub con (Blossom). Love Sick rebooted with very little modernization (except where it counted) right up to and including no kisses. Mix Up even did "trapped on the rooftop" which I haven't seen in over a decade.
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And then Wimpy dropped. And it felt like I was reading yaoi in my tiny attic bedroom in the 90s.
3 BL Enters All the Workplaces
I love how many adult leads and sides we are getting, even from Thailand. By which I mean, BL outside of a school setting. We still have high school and university set stuff, but that used to be ALL we got. I don't mind school settings, but I like that we have some kind of balance going on these days.
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We are starting to get not just cubicles and offices (as Japan foretold) but all kinds of workplaces from retail to authors to the film industry.
4 BL Passes the Sniff Test
He smells good has always been a trope that I love. It was one of my favorite things about Bad Buddy. But this year it felt like every third BL trotted this one out. I was delighted by it. Of course I was. But it happened A LOT.
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Century of Love was a key use of it since smell is so coupled to memory, I thought they dealt with it particularly well. But even Japan and Korea deployed the sniff test.
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(Seoul Blues)
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(Blue Boys) Same actors, different characters.
Pitt Babe
Century of Love
Meet You at the Blossom
Soul Blues
Blue Boys
Dangerous Romance
This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans
Cosmetic Playlover
Sunset X Vibes
Monster Next Door
Secret Love
Perfect 10 Liners (technically a 2025 show, but the sniff happened in 2024)
5 Fewer Shipper Characters within BL
Negative trends are always harder to call (it's easier to track the presence of something over the absence) but I'm still calling this one.
In a discussion of The Shipper @heretherebedork and I got into a discussion about this. It really seems like both we are getting less "female shipper" characters and/or they are evolving into overly interested but very supportive female friends instead. Softening, if you will.
I think partly this is because there has been a general decline in this archetype in yaoi over the past 5-10 years, but also they tend to incur pretty bad reactions in fans, and Thailand (especially) tends to pay attention to that kind of thing.
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Unfortunately this also means we are seeing a worsening of the "no female representation at all" backbone of BL. We Are, which I loved, didn't have a single female character. Not even a throw away.
6 The rise of the green flag seme!
The seme (active attacker in the relationship) got a lot of green flag action this year. We saw lots of Dommy boys, Daddy types, and players asking for permission, trying to communicate, talking about safe sex. Particularly out of Thailand.
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To make sure this is clear, green flag means he communicates about the relationship and sex, takes no for an answer, asks for permission for (almost) everything, and doesn't do things like (just spitballing here) take a hotel room key and go into the other mans private room when he's not around (or asleep). Okay? Christ on a cracker. (When it comes to flags Mame has red/green colorblindness.)
Some examples:
Alan from Pit Babe
God from Monster Next Door (except for the one journal reading incident)
Sun from Sunset X Vibes (almost too far)
Yak from Wandee Goodday
Latte from Knock Knock Boys
7 Japan Came to PLAY
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Japan came to play and will not leave the field that they built. I may not always like JBL, but when I love it, I REALLY LOVE IT, and when it hits it hit hard (pain or joy). And even when I don't like it, it always gives me a lot to think about.
We had 19 JBLs in 2024:
Sahara-sensei to Toki-kun
At 25:00, in Alaska
Dominant Yakuza and Wimpy Corporate Slave
I Became the Main Role of a BL
Love in the Air: Koi no Yokan
Takara's Treasure
Although I Love You and You
I Hear the Sunspot
Living With Him
Love is Better the Second Time Around
Love is Like a Poison
Perfect Propose
Cosmetic Playlover
Sugar Dog Life
0.5D
Let's Eat Together Aki and Haru 2
Mitsuya-sensei no keimakutekina ezuke
Happy of the End
Ossans Love Season 2
Japan had 18 total BLs in 2023.
17-15 in 2022 (a couple I couldn't get hold of and a couple I just don't think are BL, so 2022 is vague).
7 in 2021. <- THAT was when the big jump occurred, 3 years ago. Which might have more to do with the pandemic than anything else.
But back to now: 19 in 2024 means they are actually just increasing their production gradually and in a steady way, as might be expected. In round numbers we didn't see anything unusual.
BUT
The series they've been airing in 2024 are running longer (for them) and being aired over longer periods of time. Not to mention getting better and quicker distribution.
By which I mean, Japan used to have more shorts and movies, less actual series with full run times (by their & Korea's BL industry length standard) on streaming platforms. So I think it's JBL runtime and distribution that is experiencing real growth. And the consistency of that runtime.
In other words, it feels like there are more JBL airing because we have access to most of them (for a change) and they're running long enough to cross into each other (which has been rare in the past).
What's almost more interesting to me is...
8 What the hell happened, Korea?
Korea cut back on their BLs in 2024. I am not sure if that's money drying up, a crack down within the industry over there, the political situation, or something else.
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Still, it was wild to see such a stark fall off in production. They had 18 BLs in 2024 but fully half of them were shorts, and more than half were poor production quality than is prior standard. By contrast they had 21 in 2023, but only 1 was a short, and most were very high production (getting 8/10 or higher from me).
Since Korea tends to produce some of my favorite shows, it's no surprise I had no 10/10 BLs at all in 2024 with so little KBL's stepping up to the plate.
I sure hope this isn't a trend but it feels like it might be.
9 Why the hell is the not-kiss back?
Korea doubled down on being a pain in 2024 by bringing back the "they don't actually touch lips and we pretend they did by panning around the back of the head" with the camera. (Jazz for 2 sides, example. Yes, I'm still mad.)
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Then Thailand did the with Addicted Heroin. AND with Love Sick.
What is this, 2016?
Color me annoyed. I thought we saw the last of that nonsense with Make It Right.
I remind you all, if they would kiss if they het but they don't kiss when they gay, it smacks of a phobia and I'm salty about it.
Yes yes, there are actor (idol, age) excuses in play. But they should cast differently if this is going to be a problem.
End of discussion.
No really, I don't wanna talk about it. I just want it to go away.
10 The rise of Great Grandmas
We have had cool grandmas before in BL but in 2024 we had so many of them. The Sign, Love for Love’s Sake, Monster Next Door, Jack & Joker, Every You Every Me, The Rebound, Wandee Goodday.
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(thanks to @small-dark-and-delicious for bringing this one to my attention)
See the comments for additional discussion of the "why" behind some of these trends as well as a few I missed.
(source)
2023's Trends report here.
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thatbitchery · 3 days ago
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Things no one told you so I will for no reson other than I'm bored
You can NOT unwant something. Desires are inborn. You are born wanting and until you either get it or exhaust all options, It will not go away. Acting like you don't want it will not take away the fact that you do and its little bitch behavior tbh. Meeting your needs will do you a LOT more favors than trying to superimpose others that you deem more achievable or acceptable (Again, little bitch behavior). It is a solid sign of Unthatbitchism to choose not to get what you want for whatever reason but especially because it?is?not?socially?acceptable??? all the women that came before you cry in their graves. All the feminists that fought for your right to exist freely, you spit on their sacrifice. in 2025?
Spirituality, but not manifesting and rocks and yoga and love and light. Never RELIGION I'm begging you never religion. What even is that. Spirituality, the other kind. The blood moon kind. The Penial gland kind, the one that used to have people burned alive. That, that spirituality.
Submission is a masculine trait. Not feminine. Again. nothing wrong with being masculine and mostly you have to be both but. Submission is a masculine trait.
Energy >> substance. Matter of fact is energy over substance. Its not embodying it's becoming. I can't explain this without going into voodoo witch area but listen- its something you become. Not embody. Not project. Not fake till you make it, no, its energy, mode of being. Seduction. Power. Beauty. Wealth. etc- its not substance. Its not something you become. It's something you ARE and it's not tied to substance. You know when you see a super attractive person but you are not attracted to them? They have substance but not energy. Or someone in a position of power that's constantly getting finessed by their juniors? All substance no energy. Its a state of being, like a point in an energy plane?and it is as simple as a decision & practise. If y'all were witch level of cool we'd learn so much but cowards. ALL of you.
Boundaries are also inborn. Given a boundary is a definition of person you are born with your person? A boundary is how- if you take all things in existence as one, you define yourself as part of it. Like your pocket is a part of your cloth but it's still a pocket and it has its own definition- That's a boundary. You don't create them you REMEMBER them and GO BACK to them. You don't superimpose and choose them they were there, but socialization faded them. Joy= boundary respected frustration/ anger/pain = boundary violated. Disassociation is the most ACCURATE indication your boundary has been violated, and it's a matter of tracing what happened and finding it.
Social skills = survival skills. Introvert does not mean doesn't like people that's called a coping mechanism introvert means prefers own company. Social creatures, people. Tribal animals. Herd animals, you get it? The people with the most social skills have the easiest lives. Its like fish that can swim. The most natural thing EVER. The winning code is actually just called social skills. Will outperform a PHD and social status and money every.single.time.
Femininity = Creation. Masculinity= sustenance & that's it that's all. Women have both men can ONLY have one.
You chose into this life. You did in fact choose to be born in that family to those people with those conditions. I'll stop there. This is, by the way, the epitome of empowerment. Once you understand this THEN you are empowered.
You have more than one soulmate I have never understood the idea of *the One*? Matter of fact if we are considering universal oneness everyone is your soulmate? But okay. he's not not your soulmate because you broke up btw. You get more than one. Much more.
Compatibility> chemistry. Wait till you get to therapy and learn all cool and fun things about chemistry haha. Choose compatibility every single time.
No one can save you no one is coming to no one even could? Even if they wanted to? This is not a Wattpad novel honey this is real life. No one can save you but you. You are both the sculptor and sculpture.
Listen to me. Listen carefully. You do not escape the Matrix you dominate it. Okay? Take the red pill live like the blue pill.
You can not be a *failure* as long as you are alive. Human conditioning is literally just to live and survive as long as you are not dead you're good. And no it is not to reproduce if it was natural miscarriages wouldn't be a thing don't you think? Then your body would prioritize your offspring over you? You're alive, you are experiencing life (why we have consciousness btw), you are fulfilling your purpose. You're fine chill. That's it that's your purpose. Survive and experience life. Which is to say staying in your room all day is, in fact, a failure but that's also an experience just a shitty one and why would you choose that.
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