#lol being inside my own head is miserable

[spoonsforminutes]

tw: vent, current events

ever since the beginning of the year, i’ve been trying to stay afloat and stay alive. being in survival mode is my all-time normal bc no one thought to make my life easier by helping me eliminate stress. which ofc not bc actually my entire family has been emotionally abusive and neglectful. it’s not in the DSM but i have no doubt my severe depression and anxiety is just complex PTSD. my social anxiety has gotten to such severe threat lives bc i don’t feel like i can trust anyone to not hurt me. and obviously a lot of that comes from my family bullying me and denying me my humanity. i feel intense shame and anger at myself for simply existing bc i grew up believing that i didn’t matter and that if i wanted anything i had to do it myself. it’s exhausting but i’ve been working my ass off to make life better for myself for 15 yrs, and yet i’m still poor, starving, and depressed with no irl social support (at least from older adults).

Poverty does nothing good for anyone, and yet i feel like people are focusing too much on the cultural value of moving out on your own and making life work, but i can’t handle anymore fighting just to breathe in the next breath. unfortunately, i’m stuck in crisis mode. i’ve had two or more mental health emergencies (meaning i contacted emergency help) per month and i’ve either been turned away bc of healthcare bullshit or i’ve been told things i already know: eliminate stress, find social support, get resources for food and housing. I know a lot of people are struggling, but knowing that i had no autonomy in my childhood and NOW being told that i can’t have autonomy until i get myself out of poverty and oh yeah that’s fucking impossible bc of stupid men with too much money, too much power, and too little braincells.

Unpopular opinion but i don’t care if a homeless person or struggling parent steals something necessary that they otherwise wouldn’t be able to afford. like society is all fake anyway and billionaires certainly don’t give two fucks about workers. it doesn’t even really matter to them that every shoplifter be punished. America is an oligarchy, and i knew that back in middle school economics when we learned that legally, corporations are considered people. THAT was truly the trigger that lead us here, among other things. also along with my own shit, i’m super empathic and emotional so i sometimes will absorb someone’s energy so being around people has actually been worse bc my bad mood gets amplified by bitter, frustrated, and angry people. i hate every single thing about being alive, but since my story hasn’t been told yet, guess i just have to brute force people to care. so many people have assumed i won’t make it bc i’m disabled and doing STEM. buddy. i’m the most stubborn son of a bitch i know. not even pain slows me down.

[gentlethorns]

you know what? i'm gonna say it. i miss being seventeen. not for the "glory days," bc they weren't, by a country mile lol. if i had glory days i'd say they were in 2020. but i miss the electricity, the constant undercurrent of euphoria and deep plunging black. i miss the fight i had. i was literally known for being scrappy. i was self-destructive and coping poorly, but goddamn if i didn't burn bright and long. it took me until my twenties to finally start to fizzle out. does the candle with its wax melted down to the base of its glass cage miss when the wick was lit?

[maikissed]

cherry flavoured lips part 5

Kylian Mbappéx reader

summary: No pretence, no lies, no avoidance. Just them and nothing around to ruin it. At last. She only regretted that they made it harder for themselves to achieve it.

warning: smut

note: I've been struggling with the smut. Ended up hating it LOL.

She was angry, to say the least. She did not have any organized plan or vision for the future tucked up in her head, that she would find now ruined and lost after Ian unceremoniously left her. And she was not upset, or heartbroken, oh that she definitely wasn’t. She focused for a minute, tried to find a minuscule source that might have given her any sign that deep inside she was in fact sorrowful after being rejected, or was she? Truthfully, she was the one that initiated this unprecedented conversation between them. And as the result was expected and anticipated even, she still found herself mad at how it all turned out at the end. Like she found herself at the same miserable spot she was in before.

“It was a very simple question, Ian” she articulated calmly.

Ian seemed irritated, uncomfortable.

“You are asking if I love you, but cannot give me a straight answer yourself” he commented, gazing up at her.

She was standing so unnatural and stiffly, facing him, towering over him, like they were going through some kind of trial. She was the prosecutor, and he was the suspect waiting for more charges fired his way. Yet the roles might be reversed in a blink of an eye and there was a high possibility that it would be her facing the death penalty at the very end. Who was going to pass the sentence? Her palms were itching.

“I asked you first, it’s important to me” bold, cool and reserved.

“So my answer defines yours? That’s how you see it?” he squinted his eyes searching for a trick, a deceit.

He turned distrustful. She was aware what caused it.

She sighed, dropping her arms, already feeling worn out by this conversation.

“Do you know how I see it?” Ian started after few seconds and she turned her head back to him in alert “I think you’re running from something and that exhausting getaway has pushed you into my arms” he nodded and she frowned in question “I am not blind, y/n, I can tell that the only person you really want is him”

She said nothing, swallowing something big and bulky that started to form in her throat. No words came out still, she just shook her head. In her own defence? A mere, pitiful try. 

“Why are you doing this? Are you trying to punish him or yourself? Because clearly this is not about me” he seemed to enjoy this upper hand. But there was a dull ache visible in his eyes, like he felt deceived “That is actually funny to be honest, even when we are having sex you seem disappointed when you open your eyes and look at me”

“Oh, what in the hell, Ian?” she moaned in resentment, feeling uncomfortable under his investigating stare. And agitated by the choice of his words.

She turned into a suspect, much closer now to be announced as convict. 

“You know what, I’m sorry” he reached with his hand to scratch his brow “I don’t want to fight with you like that. I am not angry with you, just feel a little used, that is all” he muttered softly and as he looked down at his hand and then back up at her the ache made place for generous ease. He was waiting for a perfect moment to let it all out, she gave him one.

And her? She was not sorrowful, she did not feel the despair flooding her heart and sinking it at the bottom of her stomach. She took one deep breath and wondered when the feeling of love turned her into a stone. A cold statue, an insensitive performer. She toyed with him all this time. And that thought actually made her a tad sullen.

“I’ll pack my things, I have a flight back to London in three hours” were Ian’s next words.

She shuddered, bringing her gaze back to him.

“I am sorry” her voice weak and abashed “It was not my intention to treat you this way” and this was an honest confession.

And he smiled at her in answer, almost like realising how everything sooner or later falls back in it’s place.

-

Fleur very much enjoyed when Ethan and Kylian were visiting with their parents, joining the family for a dinner from time to time. She liked the company of these two boys and their father, Wilfried was absolutely one of the most entertaining people she knew. He liked to narrate the most captivating stories and was not irritated by her oh so many questions she liked to throw in in the middle of his story. He was very patient, her father was too, but she knew her father too well for him to be so amusing. Fayza, on the other hand, was giving off the impression of a very intense and fierce woman, that’s why Fleur was watching herself to not be too pushy towards her, although she was kind and lovely. It was her demeanour that brought much respect in Fleur, for she made sure to be polite and careful. Still at the end of the day she was a sweet aunt.

“Ethan, are you growing out your hair?” she started in her funny, so much adult voice and the boy smiled at her after he greeted her.

“Yes, kind of” he grinned “Do you think it suits me?”

“Not really” she shrugged carelessly and then her ears reached a characteristic laugh from behind them.

She was always playful with Ethan, because he was playful with her. She beamed when she noticed Kylian enter the anteroom.

As she reached with her arms to hug him she could not fight the excitation over the news she so desperately wanted to announce to him. Maybe it was not her place, but she just… couldn’t keep it in.

“They’ve broken up, you know” she smiled sheepishly and he kneeled in front of her handing her a sweet little bouquet of flowers.

“Who?” he knitted his brows questioningly.

A bigger bouquet in his other hand, probably for Fleur’s mother. And a lovely present bag under it.

“Y/n and Ian” she rolled her eyes in a “duh” kind of manner “Good for her, I feel like he was sucking out the life out of her, can you believe it?” she huffed in displease.

“Well, people bond and sometimes part, that’s the way of life” seemed like a proper answer to this young girl.

It almost made him laugh out loud when he noticed her judgemental frown as she stared at him. Something like “don’t give me shit right now”, he could tell because her sister often graced him with this type of face. Her beautiful, lovely and stubborn sister he could not wait to see tonight. He hoped she was here.

“We shouldn’t bond with people that are just not right for us, isn’t it true?” she asked.

“Yes, it’s very much true, Fleur. However sometimes it’s not so obvious at the beginning. You just get to know the person with time”

“Yeah, well” her face turned serious again, aristocratic and modest “You and her were always great together, I cannot fathom how you did not bond since you are clearly idiotically in love with each other” she just shrugged, sinking her nose in the flowers she held now with both hands “Come, the dinner is almost ready” she said simply when she turned around.

Fleur was too smart for her own good. And Kylian stood there for few more seconds, dumbfounded.

When he finally came back to his senses he entered the dining room when everybody gathered but y/n was nowhere to be seen. It was her mother that obviously noticed his curiosity and after thanking for the beautiful flowers he picked for her, mentioned that she was in the kitchen, finishing preparing the food. And of course he decided to see her first, hoping that they were not bound the spend an uncomfortable evening.

He entered the room silently, spotting her standing over the kitchen counter, a knife in her hand and vegetables on the board in front of her. She was facing him but did not notice him at first. But with the corner of her eye she could spot the movement and raised her head to finally see who has joined her. Sharp chop on the board was the first thing, the next thing he could her was her pained cry.

“Ah, shit!” she yelped holding up her hand.

And without any thought he ran up to her, to see if she’s alright. She stared at her palm as he neared her and he knew very well what was coming. She could not stand the sight of blood, it made her dizzy and nauseous, she was afraid of needles since the earliest days. So he wrapped his arm around her middle, catching her injured and bloody hand below the wrist with the other.

“One step back, to the sink” he instructed calmly, and he could feel she begun to slump in his hold.

There was a lot of blood, already dripping on his fingers. But as he put her fingers under the running water he could see that stitches were not necessary, the knife just properly scratched the pad of her middle finger.

“It’s alright, just a tiny little cut” he murmured, examining her hand, looking for any additional cuts.

“Mhm” she breathed on his cheek and when he raised his head, he noticed she was looking at him all this time.

The proximity, her big, round, shaken eyes stunned him for a moment. But he had to move, she needed and aid.

“You just need a bandage. Can you stand on your own?” he made sure, slowly and very carefully backing his hand away from her waist. 

She nodded slowly, still looking at him, and he lingered for just a short moment before rushing in the direction of the medicine cabinet. And this little incident end up with her finger decently secured with a quite big amount of bandage and tape. She snickered at the sight of it, and after considering it for a moment, she actually brought her hand up, curling other fingers down to grace him with a rude gesture, her puppet looking like finger almost in his face.

“Come on, I did a decent job” he frowned before smiling at her softly.

“You did, thank you” and she smiled back at him “If it weren’t for you I’d probably faint and bleed myself to death” she joked looking back at the vegetables awaiting on the chopping board.

“Your cells have the capacity of sealing such cut back together themselves, you know?” he muttered carelessly, reaching for the knife to finish her job himself. He would not let her ruin the bandage now.

“Oh, wow there, Sherlock. I was kidding and I was paying attention in anatomy class for your information” she snickered taking a step to the side to let him take her place.

“Of course you were” he snorted, but meaning what he said, looking at her playfully.

She looked calmer and healthier. He was glad. She blinked like finally realising he was here with her and they were at last having an easy and warm conversation. Maybe she was glad too. For a moment there was silence, but she lingered close to him.

“Those are too big, cut them smaller” she almost whispered while she inspected his cucumber cutting abilities.

“Keep your fingers away, please” he muttered indignantly and she actually laughed out loud.

“Sorry” she breathed and he resumed. But there was something tender about this word as she voiced it out “I really am sorry, Kylian” now, it was a whisper.

Yet he was determined to keep on cutting the cucumber, something in him turned defensive and he was worried she at last would put him in his place. As a friend, as a childhood companion, like it used to be before. But she could not have it like that, so she reached with her hand and delicately placed it over his forearm. So he had no choice but to look at her. And he was seeing her, seeing her fully, and there, in the reflection of her beautiful, glimmering eyes he could spot his absolute devotion, his dedication, he could see it clearly. Could she?

“Love is a scary emotion” her voice quiet and careful, her eyes looking down at his lips for a moment, but out of bashfulness “I thought I was doing the right thing for myself, but instead I put myself in endless misery” she confidently continued “I am so sorry for pushing you away and you have every right to hate me for it”

“Nothing in this world would make me hate you. There’s not a thing I would not forgive you for” he opposed, feeling hurt at the thought that she was drawing such conclusions.

“Don’t say that” she frowned, her eyes turning even bigger “I’ve hurt you, I did an awful thing, admit it. I own you an honest apology, then you might consider if I deserve forgiveness” her voice breaking, her palms shaking, her eyes turning wetter, but she stood her ground, did not hide her emotions.

So he turned to her, making sure that every word he intended to say next she would find honest and real. And right.

“I acted up at the start, but the truth is that I would wait for you as long as it takes, I would step down, move into the shadow of your life, stop being an obstacle” she started to shake her head after, wanting to disagree, wanting to let him know that she did not see him that way, but he continued “I would be patient, I would let you make the choices that are right for you, because you are your own person. But I would be here, waiting, even if it meant waiting for the rest of my life, because you are my choice. And it would be my choice and I am okay with it, because I love you and I loved you long before I could understand what love actually is. That’s why you don’t have to say anything for I have already forgiven you”

A little sob broke out of her chest and she quickly turned her head to the side to hide her obvious tears streaming down her face.

“Hey” he whispered “It was not my intention to make you cry like this” and he reached for her hand to stop her from hiding her emotions. But delicately and considerably, wanting to be nothing but gentle. Her body was shaking with more sobs.

She turned back to him and started nodding like a little girl making peace with her subtle outburst of emotion. It made him smile at her.

“Loves, where are the salads?” y/n’s mother surprised them by unexpectedly charging into the room, halting at the doors after noticing the sight in front of her. Y/n turned to the other side so she could not notice her red and swollen face, her hand reaching up to wipe the cheeks dry “Sorry, is everything alright?” she asked, slightly embarrassed “What’s happened to your finger, y/n?”

Y/n sniffled before answering:

“I shoved it up his ass” she muttered quite frankly, before wrapping an arm around Kylian’s bicep, then she simply put her head on his shoulder.

He started to shake with laughter, trying to compose himself but truthfully found it difficult. He laughed out and y/n accompanied him.

“Oh, how funny you are” she sneered at her daughter but there was a gentle smile as well that finally broke on her face “Alright, you have five more minutes, lovebirds. Then I want my salads on the table”

-

Are you asleep?

She sent the message and begun to stare at the screen of her phone with gnawing impatience. She hoped he was awake as well. She itched with need to have him close, only today realising the size of the desolation that has grown in her heart when they parted. Their whole family stayed for the night, as they often used to when visiting their home on the countryside. She perceived their previous conversation unfinished and still felt like she owed Kylian more explanation. His confession, on the other hand, was nothing she could ever expect, not because she was hesitant to believe in honesty of his words, but for the reason that he drew it out so naturally, without any strain or difficulty. Almost like he unveiled the hidden truth of life everyone desire to find, using the simplest words. That is how it sounded to her, and she wasn’t very sure how she was supposed to handle it now. He was not terrified by it, he expected nothing while giving her his all. She was afraid she was not so experienced in the art of love, she worried she was not fit for it.

He answered the message after a while and she realised she drifted off in thought.

Non, why aren’t you asleep?

She typed back the answer with no hesitation.

Come to me?

And it didn’t take him long because just few minutes later she could hear gentle knock on the door to her room, so she jumped out her bed and run up to let him in. She smiled as soon as she saw him.

“It’s your birthday in twenty minutes” he murmured, holding up a little present bag in front of him.

“Good” she whispered “I wanted to spend it with you” she took the bag and then reached for his hand to guide him inside “Do you mind if I open it later? It is a bad luck to open the present before actual birthday day” she asked while placing it on the dresser near the door.

“You are way too superstitious” he snickered and she rolled her eyes at his answer.

“Maybe, but it kept me safe to this day”

Kylian shot her a mocking look and she laughed at his reaction, only then realising that they were still holding hands. She looked down at them as they stayed joined, feeling affection rising in her chest. She enjoyed this feeling. And she wanted him closer. So she took a step back to guide them to her bed so they could rest. He followed and they sat down comfortably at the edge of it.

“I was afraid this year would be the first time I’d spend my birthday without you”

He just smiled at her warmly and she took a deep breath, suddenly realising that she calmed much more when he was here. When he was listening and looking at her.

“I’ve put myself in this emotional prison, knowing that I was doing the exact opposite of what my heart called for” she murmured switching from looking at his face and back at their hands “I piqued Ian purposefully, I am a coward and I did not know how to free myself, so I was glad when he turned out to be aware of everything. But I was so distressed by what I’ve done, I thought you would never want me back”

He squeezed her hand reassuringly, this time letting her speak whatever she needed to let out. Giving her time and space for it. But at this point the nervousness hit her strong back again, because she was worried she was not so good with words like he was. She was not used to it. But the words she was so desperately trying to reach were the most perfect ones. The right ones. She decided on moving a tad closer to him, his warmth and scent wrapping around her.

“So…” she started and there was a cheeky smirk that appeared on his lips.

He was so definitely going to tease her now. She guessed not much has changed, but it was a good sign. And he was so handsome, she wanted to punch him in the face.

“So what, miss eloquence?” he muttered and her heart skipped a bit when his low voice reached her ears.

“Don’t make fun of me now” she whispered, it was not her intention but she whispered, realising that all her senses were now filled with him, the spark in his eyes, his breathing, his touch.

“I am not” he opposed, reaching with his hand to gently stroke her cheek, his knuckles lovingly grazing the skin.

Delicate and tender, she felt the touch with her whole body, within her soul.

“Je t'aime” she whispered while leaning even closer to him, but lingering, wanting to make sure that he still felt that way. That nothing changed during the evening, that he did not change his mind.

She looked him in the eye and there it was again, the simplicity, the obviousness, that sweet spark in his eyes and a smile on his face, and all of it – so serene. And as she finally said it, addressing this confession to him, she realised there was no grand secret, no hidden truth of life, but the only truth of one’s heart. And she was free. His love was the only one to grant her that freedom.

“Didn’t hear you properly” he said “Could you repeat?”

She sniggered at that but reached with her hands to wrap them around his neck, leaning closer to softly whisper into his ear:

“I love you, Kylian” she sang “You and only you” she smiled “I love you”

His arm wrapped tighter around her and she moved so she could face him again. She knew that look in his eyes, so dark, so soft and sparkly.

“One more time”

She giggled. A stronger beat of her heart and she kissed him, a delicate peck on the lips, he hummed as she leaned back.

“I love you” she kissed him again and another “I love you” after.

The next kiss lingered, he let her guide it on her own pace, maybe because he regretted the times when he was more demanding on this part, when he kissed her or touched her ways that weren’t proper many times before. She pressed onto him, adding more fervency into this contact, soft but sure touches, she begun to move, trying to be closer, trying to take more and more. But as soon as he felt her mouth opening slightly, he broke the kiss and his lips followed a path, from the corner of her lips, to her jaw, and then lower to her neck. Her fingers rested on his nape, she closed her eyes and let herself feel. He was being delicate, patient, savouring her, experiencing her. Slow, too slow, she started to burn, she realised. That funny and sweet little spot he reached and bit on delicately, send an intoxicating shot through her whole body and she jerked breathlessly. Many other places on her body yearned for his attention, yet he was not in a hurry. It was a way too precious moment for Kylian to rush anything. She enjoyed every second of this special attention, but there was much more, so much more she wanted. Her fingers timidly reached for the buttons of the little night sweater she was wearing, one undone, then another and then – he reached for her fingers when he finally noticed it. Her eyes hazy and lids heavy as she looked at him, he looked down, her breasts clad in a delicate bra already visible to him, beautiful, soft skin unveiled. He wanted to kiss her there. But, there was hesitation.

“We shouldn’t” he whispered “We are not alone”

“Everybody is asleep” she reached for another button, her eyes focused on his face, but his eyes could not fight the temptation to see another piece of her skin being unveiled “Their rooms are far” the last button undone.

She was not particularly nervous now, but her fingers shook as she grabbed the folds of the sweater and pulled it down her arms. She could see him swallow and she loved that to a great extent. So she stood up, in front of him, untying the little ribbon of her fluffy pants and let the garment fall off her hips. Slowly, as he seemed to enjoy, she put one knee at the side of his thigh, her hand reaching to him, resting against his cheek. His eyes locked with hers and she knew she had him there. He was mesmerized. She straddled him the next second, pressing her lips against his once more. The kiss finally deepened, his hands travelled from her waist to her back, his touch soothing her. She felt the same thrill she did when they were kissing in the orchards. She wanted to press him down on the mattress, but again he had other ideas. He pulled away and put his mouth on the skin under her collarbone. And again, he was savouring it. Slow, moist and adoring kisses reaching lower, and she gasped when he placed one on the still clothed nipple. He bit on it, a moan broke out from her throat, her head already a spinning mess. He raised his head with a little smile and surely captured her mouth. She moved against him, she could feel him, all of him. Never before she felt more alive.

“Can I?” he asked, while his hand still placed against her back moved higher, touching the clasp of her bra.

“Yes” the answer was rather quick.

He removed it without struggle and she smirked at him. She never truly enjoyed sex before, no one could really find out about it, but the fact that he was the only person that could awaken such strong elation in her was a little guilty secret of hers. Until now.

He took her hand in his, the left one, with the finger still clad in bandage, and sweetly kissed her knuckles. He still seemed to consider.

“Sit next to me” he instructed and she wondered, but did as he asked.

To her surprise he kneeled in front of her.

“I want to taste you” he stated confidently, removing the t-shirt he was wearing. She shivered.

Oh, God.

“Can I kiss you, love?” his voice was so steady but also alluring, she found herself struggle to speak.

So she nodded, trying to compose herself.

“I can’t hear you, I won’t do anything you don’t directly agree with” he caressed her calf as he said so. There was something demanding in his voice, but still gentle, no pressing.

“Yes, please” her voice shaky but sure.

His fingers travelled up and rested at her hips, grabbing the strings of her underwear. He was watching her expressions attentively, searching of any sings of discomfort. She rose her hips up, giving him none. And as it was foreseeable he dragged the material down her legs very slowly. She was sure she blushed heavily as they held the eye contact. For a moment she lost the sense of reality, arousement coming to her in more persistent waves. He smiled cheekily and she moved closer, more to the edge of the bed, being able to perfectly read off his request. And he did not move yet.

“A little wider, love” hotness spread all over the skin of her cheeks and neck again.

She felt a tad silly now, because once again there was no abashment in the way he touched her, or spoke to her or even looked at her. And despite the fact that this moment thrilled her greatly, she was also unsure, felt unprepared, like she was about to turn out not right for him, not fitted for his fantasy. It was an awful feeling.

“Do you want to change your mind?” his voice softer now. His eyes on the other hand not. He wanted her. Badly.

“No” she breathed, looking at him intensely. She wondered if her vastly beating heart could be the cause of her immediate death.

He was patiently kneeling in front of her, gazing up at her with his lovely and sparkly boyish eyes for goodness sake. 

“Then relax” he murmured, his fingers still gently drawing lines down and up her calf “I want you to enjoy it”

Part of her wanted to look the other way, yet bigger part wanted to observe him while she opened her legs for him. Breath stuck in her throat when the intensity of this moment hit her momentarily.

“More” he rasped and she groaned softly, looking into his eyes that turned darker and darker by every second.

“Like that?” she asked weakly, her hands desperately clutching the sheets behind her, she was burning.

He liked the way she asked the question, he hummed and smiled at her, before lowering his head to place a kiss on the inside of her thigh. She took a big breath in.

“As much as I would love to hear you, I must ask you to be quiet” she almost whined hearing his low voice, but did her best to nod in agreement.

This time he granted her his mercy, not prolonging it much, maybe because he grew impatient to finally have her. While his hands securely held her open for him, his mouth found it’s way to her cunt. It seemed to happen very suddenly, her hips jerked uncontrollably and she gasped at the contact. Softly and gently he begun to pleasure her, she could sense that he was watching her, but could not find the confidence to meet his gaze. His hand squeezed her thigh, putting it up to let it rest on his shoulder. His tongue pressing surer against her, while his lips were delicate in their caress. She gasped and jerked up once more. Everything felt wet, his mouth hot against her, his tongue precise. Very unexpectedly he groaned against her, and it stunned her significantly, making her body tense and her eyes shot open. A sharp gasp that left her met a little moan, it sounded out like a hiccup.

“Why don’t you look at me, darling?” he murmured and she swallowed hard.

She was familiar with Kylian’s domineering attitude and quite stout ego, she always imagined it’s influence on his sex life. He was being considerate enough with her now, she wondered what will happen once he finish restraining himself. Chills ran down her spine. She yearned to experience it all. So she directed her gaze lower and the look in his eyes was shattering and overwhelming, so hot, she moaned out loud shamelessly, her right hand quickly shot up to cover her mouth. That’s when he chuckled and that’s when she simply could not stop everything that came next. It was quicker than she suspected. Too weak to keep herself up, she fell on her back, both of her legs now wrapped around his head, her hands delicately grazing his hair as if trying to keep him close to her at all cost, but no pressure in her touch.

“Kylian” she breathed, too quiet “Ky…” he sucked on it now “Kylian” she whined, louder.

And it was too much. She had to clasp her hand over her mouth again, most of her cries muffled, but still prominent in the room. Her body moved on it’s own accord, her head rolling around almost spasmodically. She was feeling lighter now, with her eyes closed she could not really specify where she was. She could remember it was her room, and her bed, but her mind stopped registering it properly. There was nothing more then her flesh, her senses directed only to experience the ecstasy of the upcoming pinnacle, a burst of euphoria. She wasn’t even sure if she was still breathing, but could tell her chest was moving rapidly. As the first wave hit her, she almost choked on her own breath, as the second appeared she expected it to bring a few more that fades quickly and leaves her hazy and light. But shockingly there was more, and more, and more, and it felt like her soul started to leave her body. She could not keep up with it, she was not prepared for it. Was she making noises? Was she loud? Was her mouth covered? Did she pass out?

She felt the mattress bent next to her. Her eyes still closed. She could hear her breathing despite the ringing in her ears. She could feel her fingertips again, weakly moving against the sheets.

“Hey” a whisper, close to her ear, she leaned into it “Are you alright, love?” she smiled, it was a lovely voice, soothing and sweet.

“Mhm” she murmured and very slowly opened her eyes to look at him.

He looked different. And one look at him made something in her insides jump. She was back in her body.

“You need to rest”

“No” she opposed, her hand flying up to touch him. Delicate, as she grazed his lips with her fingertips.

“I think yes” he laughed.

“I think you just gave me two orgasms in one take. Or more, I am not even sure now” this seriously spoken sentence made him laugh again. His lips flexed under her touch “But I want you now”

A big intake of breath as he considered her plea. She was fine, she could take him, she was not drained or sleepy, simply astounded or even blown away. She felt bolder now, more determined when she rose on her elbows to reach him, pressing a kiss on his lips. He grew weaker when she kissed him like this, softly but surely, with her nails lightly scratching the skin on his chest. She took advantage of this moment and pressed on him, making him lay down on the bed. He seemed stunned when she sat up, on top of him, her hands already resting on the clasp of his belt. She could notice him swallow but there was another of his shameless smirk appearing on his lips.

“What’s so amusing?” she jested.

“Your persistence. I adore it” he sat up, his hand sneaking around her middle and before she could comprehend his intention, he simply grasped her, turning them so she laid on her back again. 

She could start up a heated conversation about his own stubbornness at this point, but the idea started to quickly fade in her head as she watched him unbuckle the belt after he stood up. The intensity in his gaze was drawing her to him, she felt the same impatience once more. She reached for him desperately when he joined her, her legs already at either side of him, inviting him, keeping him in, close, closer. No pretence, no lies, no avoidance. Just them and nothing around to ruin it. At last. She only regretted that they made it harder for themselves to achieve it.

“Make love to me now” she hummed before kissing him.

[rush-the-stars]

new tricks

pairing: yandere abyss prince kaeya x gender neutral reader

cw: dark content, kidnapping/capture, the reader is treated physically well but is still captured/being held against their will, mentions of a punishment, strange and toxic dynamic, mildly suggestive.

wc: 2.1k

a/n: dividers by @/cafekitsune!

this is just a tiny drabble. don't squint at worldbuilding or plot lol. i had this idea prattling around my head and wanted it out. one day i will write the dark long fic of my dreams but today is not the day. thank you to @/lorelune for taking a peek beforehand and assuring me <33

on the back of your neck, goosebumps ripple to life. a chill races down your spine. you know it well—as intimately as you know the brag of your own heart.

sensing him, you cast your eyes up in the reflection of your mirror to catch the shape of him behind you.

you didn’t even hear him enter your chambers. but you’d felt him somehow, known his presence. maybe known his gaze on you.

(it burns deep and vicious to know his gaze. to become accustomed and attuned to him.)

prince kaeya smiles knowingly.

the dark glint to his eye lets you know he’s in strange ways.

“you’re getting quite perceptive.” he muses. “if only you’d been so sharp when i first took you, maybe you wouldn’t be here.”

you were just a naive artist from mondstadt then. a child who knew the sound of the wind in the trees and the birdsong that rose into the sky early in the morning. you knew the golden hills and the valley and a sort of freedom that made you sing like those birds in the morning, too.

(in the dark, he asks you to sing. sing like you used to, he says. and when you open your mouth, you’re always terrified of what will come out.)

now you sit tucked away in the gilded cage he’s made for you in a land far from your home skies. in a castle where the eyes of gods cannot reach you.

“you’re lucky i wasn’t.” you reply sharply, trying to keep your bite around him.

it grows harder and harder to.

every day the edge you’ve tried so desperately to keep begins to whittle away. it’s hard to always be angry. it’s miserable to always be vicious.

(and he’s never harmed you. not physically—just in stranger, worse ways. emotionally. mentally. you wish he’d just break a bone or make a scar, so that when it heals, you know you’re okay again.

it’s worse that he spoils you. it’s worse that he cherishes you. it’s its own form of torment. he knows it.)

he smiles lazily, on the edges are amusement. fondness. he is endlessly entertained by your contempt.

he approaches where you sit in front of your ornate vanity. it’s too beautiful. it’s too grand.

he’s a dark shadow of blue behind you in the mirror. you watch his reflection carefully. he watches you back as he approaches.

something thrills inside you, wild and dark and sudden.

he reaches out, touches your cheek.

you watch his knuckle brush against your face in the mirror.

he’s testing you.

the last time you bit him.

the moment you turn your face towards his hand, it slips away, dancing out of your reach.

he smiles again knowingly.

it’s insufferable.

sensing your ire, he says, “let’s play our game.”

you breathe hard through your nose.

you turn to face him so you’re not caught in his endless reflection. you glare up at him with all the vitriol you can muster.

(it isn’t much anymore.)

“don’t you have more important things to do?”

“nothing so important as you, darling.”

your teeth grind together. but you get out;

“i’d try to escape from the balcony.”

he tsks.

“the guards would spot you.”

“i’d poison the guards.”

he laughs outright at this, “with what poison?”

you feel heat in your face, but you press on, “the hemlock i’ve been growing in the garden.”

he pauses at that. tilts his head.

“my, you’ve gotten good. i can’t tell if you’re lying.”

“go and check.” you dare.

“maybe later.” he agrees, “say i destroyed it. i froze it.”

“you’re not playing fair.” you accuse.

he laughs warmly, reaching out again to tousle your hair. you swat and push at him, but it only excites him, it only makes his hands catch your wrists and come down to your level. kneeling beside you. he holds your wrists tight, presses them down into your own lap. in another world, he could be a lover on his knees for you, his hands clasped over yours.

he fits himself between your legs. he presses himself too close.

but it isn’t another world. and his eye is like the endless night sky in this one. so dark, so terrifying.

“fine,” he agrees pleasantly, “the guards are poisoned. you slip out from the balcony. i’m a light sleeper—i hear you jump to the ground.”

“i try to run.” you breathe.

“where would you run?” he asks, nose nudging yours. you can feel the sharp cut of his foxish smile.

“past the fountain.”

“come now, you’re cleverer than that. i’d find you and drag you back.”

“i’d kick and scream. i’d make you bleed.”

“you’ve done that all before, it doesn’t stop me anymore.”

your nails bite into his shoulders as he lifts you from your place in front of the vanity. you hang around his neck like a child. instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist.

you tuck your face into his shoulder so you don’t see the pleased look in his eye.

you know where he’ll take you.

“you need new tricks.” he hums as he sits on the edge of the bed with you in his lap.

“maybe i already have them—if it’s a good trick, you wouldn’t know.” you mumble into his shoulder. you hide there.

his hand creeps up to the back of your neck. goosebumps prickle. his fingers slip into your hair and then curl into a loose fist. he tugs gently to dislodge you from his shoulder, to pull you away so that he may see your face again.

he looks at you as if he’s trying to find the trick you speak of. perhaps it’s in your eyes or the set of your mouth.

“i always know.” he warns.

“let’s play again.” you say.

and this time, you use your weight to push him down onto the bed.

he goes down willingly, too easily.

you capture his wrists the way he did to you earlier. you pin them by his head. languidly, he stretches beneath you, amused with this show of sudden power or interest.

“okay, you begin.” he says and his smile is the curve of a laughing, crescent moon.

“i grow to trust you.”

he tilts his head, uncertain or intrigued, you can’t tell. but you can tell you’ve surprised him. his smile falters.

“i’m pleased—you know it’s all i want.” he says and though it’s softened, it’s guarded. you can feel the way he tenses beneath you, waiting, searching.

“and i grow to—to want you, too.” you say and your voice sounds strange to your own ears. far off. maybe too near. not your own, or else, horrifyingly, only yours.

perhaps there is truth there in a way you cannot even begin to untangle.

he’s silent. watching.

“what do you do?” you prompt, breath hitching, almost beg him to speak. “play the game. it’s your turn.”

you feel his wrists flex, the tendons and muscles moving, encircled in your fingers.

“i—cherish you. i foster your desires. i give you whatever you want.” his voice is bedroom soft. his lashes flutter.

“freedom?”

he releases a slow breath of frustration. you feel it against your cheek.

“a form of it.” he answers. and then, carefully, you feel the shifting of his hand beneath yours. his thumb sweeps over your wrist, into your palm. “more and more as i grow to trust you, too.”

you let your hand open up to his, feel it bloom to the touch.

“being alone in the garden.” you press, “i ask you one day to tend to it by myself, when i please.”

he laces his fingers with yours.

“in time.” he agrees, “and you can tend to your garden alone. you can walk on the grounds, wherever you please. you can take dinner in the atrium or the greenhouse or by the lake. it could all be yours.”

you squeeze his hand, “say i earn your trust—let’s finish the game.”

“i give you the world.” he breathes it and you feel it against your lips, feel it somewhere deep inside of you. on the other, soft side of your chest, where your heart thrums.

you know he is telling the truth.

but it rings discordant inside of you. just as softly, you murmur;

“and then i disappear with it. you wait for me to come in from the garden one day—and i never do.”

the tender hold of your hand turns vicious, biting.

you bare your teeth and hiss, “i steal your world and your trust and the love you gave me and i run and run and run. until you can’t find me—until you can’t catch me. i do it when you least expect it—when i love you too much.”

he pushes and twists you under him. he presses you down hard like he could keep you from disappearing, like you’re slipping from him already. but you press on;

“and you’ll see my face everywhere—in the windows of the atrium and the corners of the greenhouse. in the hemlock i grew in the garden and the wind that howls while you stand on the balcony. but i’ll be gone—“

“you’ll never earn my trust now.” he warns, “and you’ll never know the garden alone, or the world i could give you.”

“but i’ll know the one you took from me.”

his eye flashes dangerously, the flicker of frigid, dark waters beneath ice.

but then he’s gone. off of you. the warmth of him leaves you in a rush.

he grabs for a coat of his, throwing it over his shoulders in a flare of dark fabric.

“where are you going? i thought you wanted to play.” you sneer.

“and i thought you didn’t?” he heads for the door anyways, “i’m going to the garden. alone.”

“scared you’ll find hemlock?” you ask.

“are you scared i’ll find hemlock?” he retorts and then lowers his voice, almost to a caress, “i would punish you.”

“you’ve done that all before, it doesn’t stop me anymore.” you tilt your head, “maybe you need new tricks.”

the door slams behind him. you don’t even flinch.

and in a moment, you watch his figure, a dark smudge against the gray fog, trudge out towards the garden.

you watch from the balcony.

there is no hemlock in the garden.

and he is gentler again when he returns that night. but he locks the door to the balcony and he keeps the key tethered around his neck, pressed to you as he holds you; so close and yet so far.

you can feel it’s cool metal against your bare back. you can feel his skin to yours, the way he holds you like you’re going to slip away.

there is no hemlock in the garden, but there is nightshade.

“let’s play our game.” he whispers that night, pressing scattered kisses like falling stars along your shoulder, your jaw.

“i steal the key around your throat. i unlock the balcony door—“

“i hear you. i let you go, anyways.”

you go perfectly still.

“i—i climb down the balcony and i run—“

“past the fountain?”

you nod slowly. you feel your heart kick into an unsteady rhythm.

“i let you go. i let you get far.”

“you’d let me—“

your throat constricts; a ball of emotion wedged there suddenly. you feel your eyes prick with—with shock. is he really—?

something terrified stirs inside you at even the thought of your real freedom; of the thing you want most.

“and then i hunt you.”

he kisses beneath your ear, like a lover.

your blood goes cold.

“i chase you across the world i gave you and the one i took from you. and every time, i find you. i’d find you. and i’d drag you back.”

“i’d—i’d kick and scream. i’d make you bleed.” you manage to get out.

he props himself up, if only to catch your chin, to force you to look back at him.

he kisses you. slowly. sweetly.

“there’s no hemlock in the garden. you need new tricks.”

but the nightshade opens its flowers to the moon, just outside the locked door of your balcony, in the garden that you can’t tend to alone.

you melt into the kiss, open mouthed and tender. soft and deep like lovers.

when you pull away, you have the key dangling in your hand;

“and this isn’t the key to the balcony. so do you.”

when he kisses you again, brutal and dreadful, and with too much heat for someone so, so cold, you feel the sharp cut of his foxish smile.

and maybe even some sick curve of your own.

[dadsbongos]

Daan x fem!reader smut pleaseee?

not super proofread :3  697 words  i think this takes place in an au where instead of elise, daan meets you :P and no termina lol

warnings - p in v, unprotected, femdom aura (fem reader btw), PATHETIC man as he should be, hints of daan being an unstable wench

~~~

“You’re precious this way,” you twirl a finger in the doctor’s short hair.

“Miserable?” he squeezes your hips tighter despite the huff.

“Flustered,” you coo, working your hand down the smooth slope of his throat. Your fingers bob at his groan of protest. 

“I have to be up early tomorrow, you know that…” his face is quickly growing red. However, the way his eyes are darting from your lips to your breasts to the apex of your thighs pressing snugly onto him tells you he doesn’t actually care that he has to be up early tomorrow.

But you do love to tease, “Oh?” you pout, shifting onto your knees and off Daan’s lap, “So, I should move then? Best to let you rest, right?”

“Well…” he whines, almost pathetically, and rolls his eyes while pulling at the tight collar of his shirt with one hand, “I never said that.”

“Aw,” you wring both hands around the back of his neck and angle his face to press your lips on his, “Do you want me, darling?”

“I live to want you, my love.”

You kiss him again, “Right answer.”

Daan can’t even weasel his way back to your shared bedroom before you’ve worked off his ugly plaid trousers. And he has no room to so much as slide off the couch before you’ve fished his cock free. Flushed red and soft and curving into your warm palm.

Puckering your lips, spit foams and dribbles onto the head of Daan’s erection, it twitches at the cooling agent. Brief, wet respite before you charitably slot him into the crease of your thigh -- only long enough tug your panties to the side and yank up your skirt, but even that feels comparable to eternity of suffering. 

“Hurry,” he snips, bucking up into the sweltering plump of your thigh, only to quickly soften his tone, “<i>please</i>...”

“As I said,” you coo, kissing up Daan’s neck, “You’re precious this way.”

He whines into your mouth, lips slippery with want and legs tight with desperation, once you finally concede and sink your pelvis to his. His cock basks in the velvety scorch, and Daan makes his appreciation known with even thrusts up into you. Intentional to not only meet your rocking, but initiate contact as deep as he can carve.

Daan latches onto the hem of your shirt and rips it up and over your head, teasing his thumbs against where the fat of your tits spills over your bra. His teeth dig into the plush as he croons and whines about your pussy. <i>So good, tight-- fucking warm. Gonna ruin you for anyone else. You’re mine, right? You’re mine.</i>

It’d be strange to hear if he weren’t whispering it into your soft breasts like he’s afraid to be negated. 

“All yours,” you confirm, curling both arms around his head and pushing him closer. Your thighs suction to his sides -- desperate bouncing cooling into pathetic grinds. 

Daan, however, forces you to keep moving up and down on his cock. His hands strong as he manhandles your movements for his own pleasure, but he is a gentleman so he reaches between the sweltering core of your conjoined bodies and circles your clit. 

“I want to feel you cum on me,” he professes, thrusts speeding up -- rapid jerks to fuck your juices out of you. Reveling in the downright degenerate sound of your wet cunt spilling and sucking with his every drive inside you, “You’re so wet, darling. Is that for me? It is, right? You’re so wet for me?”

Needy hands pull and squeeze at your pliant flesh, his cock twitching as he leaks broken moans. Soon he’s sputtering hot cum inside you, forcing your hips to still right against him. And continuing his gentlemanly pattern, Daan uses his grip on you to force you to swish back and forth. Your clit brushing the hairs at his pelvis. Even as he softens, Daan kisses and licks and begs for your own orgasm.

“Please,” he pants, “Need to feel you cum, darling. Let me feel you.”

Daan truly is the best for you when he’s like this: flustered and red and begging.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

I absolutely adore the (thinly-veiled) story in "Fortnight" because as I said on album release day, it's like "ivy" but in the suburbs.

I love the conceit of some sort of sanitized, suburban wasteland being a veneer for the seedy underbelly of these unhappy couples, acting out their secret fantasies as a cover for how unsatisfying their pristine lives are. It feels so "Desperate Housewives" turned on its head.

The narrator is drinking away her troubles, but nobody notices because everyone else is just as miserable and doing the same thing. (Or don't care.) The love interest moves in to the house behind hers, captivating her across the fence line. His wife upkeeps the perfect suburban duties, tending to her garden, and it drives the narrator crazy because her own home is in shambles on the inside. How dare she make something so beautiful that hides something so ugly? How dare she be happy when she has the one thing the narrator thinks she wants?

The would-be lovers circle each other, make pleasantries like good neighbours always do, sublimating their desires for each other over idle chit chat, which only highlights how that spark has gone out with her husband. And the image of their presumed perfect marriage to their neighbours is also a lie, because while she's feeding these fantasies about the other man in her mind, her husband is openly unfaithful. And the fuck of it all is that she knows and she isn't doing anything about it. The implied reading of "my husband is cheating, I want to kill him," to me is that this is an ongoing affair, but she's just put up with it, letting the resentment build but continuing to play the role of dutiful wife. (After all, good wives always know.)

The story is suburban gothic. The pressures of up keeping the day to day of the British? American dream do nothing but kill the spirit of the people inside them when they can't admit that it's wrong. The call is coming from inside the house: the danger isn't from some monster lurking in the shadows invading their neighbourhood, but quite literally in their own backyards. The only options are to stay stuck in the mundane reality of day to day in this sterile cage, or to break free and escape to Florida, the bastion of evading the law and lovers and time. You can buy the car (or the house or the boat or whatever), but it won't fill the hole inside you if you can't admit what's wrong and follow through.

I could soooooo see this playing out as a movie or TV show and I freaking love it. (I mean, it already has, it's a whole genre lol.) There's the whole ~real life~ situation filtering through these characters, being used as a cautionary tale that would probably veer a shade too far into speculation for another post. But I do love me some storytelling about the dark side of suburbia as a foil to people's darker impulses and psychological breakdowns.

[fuckmysuguru]

Quiet — Suguru Geto

— CW: 18+ smut. PiV. PwP. Riding. (Very brief) mention of exhibitionism/voyeurism. Creampie. (Slight, very) dumbification. | word count: 0.8k (not proofread!)

— a/n: My first fic for Geto. I am such a Suguru Slut. Lol. If you know me you don't.

“Good girl, that’s it— ride me.” His voice is soft as a lullaby as his big hands grip the supple flesh of your ass, guiding you up and down his hard cock. Suguru’s long hair falls down his shoulders, some dark strands sticking to his sweaty face. It is incredible how attractive he looks and how calm he can stay during sex.

Every time you try to speed your movements he stops you, scolding you with a soft slap on your ass. Patience is a virtue, he says, although sometimes he is the most impatient person you have ever met. His dark eyes glue to your bouncing breasts, licking his lips and leaning closer to wrap his mouth around your perky nipple. Suguru sucks eagerly, swirling his tongue over the nub until it’s puffy and so hard it is borderline painful. A small whimper falls down your lips and he quickly silences you with a sly smirk against your skin. “Keep it down, dollface. You don’t want Mahito to hear you, right?” You shake your head at his words, biting your lip to keep your moans in. “Good girl, you learn fast. I don’t share.” Surugu continues, lifting his hips to meet yours. Your breath hitches in your throat, feeling him impossibly deep. It is not fair how easy he can make you come. 

Switching sides, he gives the same treatment to your other nipple until both are covered in bite marks and little hickeys. Since day one he had been a possessive man and what better way to show the world he owns you than with those marks all over your neck and chest? He sees the way Mahito sees you, how the hunger in his eyes burns his miserable soul— if he even has one— and he fucking loves to rub it on his face that he is the one who fucks you good. And more often than not, the thought of taking you right in front of his face crosses his mind and fuels him with a newfound desire. Suguru knows it will make his blood boil— and if he can prove no one will ever make you cry and come and scream the way he does… then for what is his dick for?

“Suguru—” You gasp, gripping his shoulders with a strength that borderline amazes him. He sees you as nothing more than a weak little butterfly, so easy to rip your wings off and turn you into a mindless puddle with his cock. “I’m gonna come.” That adorable pout makes his dick throb inside you. 

“Do you want to come, bunny?” He mocks you, raising his head to look at you with a cocky grin. His lips are swollen and covered with his spit from sucking at your tits. You nod eagerly at his question, missing the teasing edge. It is so easy to play you dumb and he adores that; it grants him with a wave of power and dominance that makes him feel alive. The slick sound of sweaty skin slapping is music to his ears, and he knows he is breaking his own rule of not being too loud but at this point, with the way your wet cunt is clenching around him, spamming with the force of your orgasm— he doesn’t give a fuck who is listening. “Do it.” His left-hand lets go of your ass to grab the roots of your hair, yanking your hair back and granting him a delicious moan of pain. 

He knows he won’t last long with the way your body is milking him, begging him to release his hot, sticky cum inside you. With a few more forceful thrusts along with the constant friction of your needy little clit on his lower abdomen, you choke a broken moan mixed with his name. Suguru watches amazed at how your breasts bounce, grunting a weak curse feeling his orgasm teetering with every jerk and pulsation of your tight, velvety walls around his cock. His sharp teeth dig into the exposed neck to muffle the loud groan of his release, still bouncing you despite the small cries of overstimulation that threaten to transform into tears. Crying in front of Suguru Geto is dangerous… he might get hard again.

Just like you wanted, his cum floods your insides and leaks, pooling at the base of his cock. He has been edging himself for a while knowing that when he comes he will fill you up just the way he knows you like. Painting your pretty walls white is what he needs after a long week of dealing with idiots. 

Breathless, you rest your sweaty forehead against his shoulder. The bite on your neck stings and you are sure he might have drawn blood but that’s the magic of it. That’s just a percent of how rough sex with Suguru can be. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

𓆩⟡𓆪 English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistakes.

[looking-to-rattle-the-stars]

So I'm reading The Hobbit right--been going a bit slow because of travel and being suddenly called into work--and I just finished Chapter 9.

I cannot stop thinking about the friendship disparity between Bilbo and the dwarves. It's driving me up a wall in all honesty. Cause like, even if Bilbo didn't fully see them as friends in the beginning, he always refers to them as his friends or the dwarves. And he always seems, despite their complaining and his brief moments of "God I wish I wasn't here with them and their ruckus", to hold a high level of respect for them. But the dwarves don't return such a favor. They don't even start to like him until Chapter 8! It was always "Oh they forgot about him." and complaints about how he shouldn't be accompanying them.

Like, just to provide some quote examples (mainly for myself lol):

"Yes, lots,” said Bilbo, before he remembered not to give his friends away. “No none at all, not one,” he said immediately afterwards. (Pg. 35)

“What’s all this trouble? Who has been knocking my people about?” “It’s trolls!” said Bilbo from behind a tree. They had forgotten all about him. (Pg. 38)

“He wondered whether he ought not, now he had the magic ring, to go back into the horrible, horrible, tunnels and look for his friends. He had made up his mind that it was his duty, that he must turn back—and very miserable he felt about it—when he heard voices.” (Pg. 85)

The dwarves wanted to know why he had ever been brought at all, why he could not stick to his friends and come along with them, and why the wizard had not chosen someone with more sense. (Pg. 86)

“From which you can see that they had changed their opinion of Mr. Baggins very much, and had begun to have a great respect for him (as Gandalf said they would).” (Pg. 152)

“They all thought their own shares in the treasure would suffer seriously if the Wood-elves claimed part of it, and they all trusted Bilbo. Just as Gandalf had said would happen, you see.” (Pg. 162)

Like when they refer to themselves as Bilbo's friends it feels, at least to me, that they don't really see him as one. That they simply call him a friend because Gandalf is there and thinks highly of Bilbo. Or in like the way where they don't really see him as a friend they intend to keep, more of an acquaintance but saying "friend" is more polite/formal to do. Friend in the way where they are forced to be friends with each other but one thinks low of the other and therefore finds every opportunity to complain about it.

And then in Chapter 9 Thorin says to Bilbo, “A pretty fine burglar you make, it seems, when the time comes. I am sure we are all for ever at your service, whatever happens after this.” (Pg. 165) and I just crumple and fall over because I know how this story ends and what is to become of, at the very least, Thorin and his nephews. (I have been told that more of them die by LOTR, but I am unsure who!) And like perhaps you can argue that Balin had a bit more respect for him than the others, Bilbo does note how they get along a few times, but that is still 1/13. I am just head in hands.

And, since I already have a decent length post going, I cannot stop thinking about these quotes:

“There is nothing like looking, if you want to find something (or so Thorin said to the young dwarves). You certainly usually find something, if you look, but it is not always quite the something you were after.” (Pg. 55)

“But all night he dreamed of his own house and wandered in his sleep into all his different rooms looking for something that he could not find nor remember what it looked like.” (Pg. 104)

LIKE JUST OH MY GOD. KNOWING ABOUT THE RING AND HOW THE STORY ENDS AND I JUST THE THORIN QUOTE AND APPLYING IT TO BILBO AND THE ADVENTURE!!! Like I don't know how to express the words right now but... the idea that Bilbo wasn't looking for an adventure but he found one and it offered him a sense of connection unlike anything in the Shire and embraced the "Tookness" inside of him which inherently reconnects him with his mother. And the second quote, I just- I don't know a lot about the ring. But my best friend has lightly explained some of the implications as they appear in LOTR, and I just... Bilbo searching for the ring in his dreams. Although I do also think that the quote would more relate to my previous sentiments with the first quote, but I just wonder if his dream was like that because of being in possession of the ring I suppose. Anyways it's 3am so time to go get some sleep!

[heartshapedconchas]

everlong

chapter 1: patrol | ellie williams | 

summary — You knew Ellie Williams. You weren't close with her by any means, but you knew her. You knew that she had been dating Dina for 5 months when you arrived, and you also knew that you were fairly interested in her. One night after a day of patrol together, the two of you talk during a get-together. And not just about the normal trivial things you'd say every now and then to break the almost comfortable silence during patrols. You actually talked.

pairing — ellie williams x reader

warnings — femme-based reader, slight violence? reader is a lesbian, dina & ellie are dating (she doesn’t cheat dw)

word count — 1.8k

author’s note — Hello Hello, I have not written since about middle school so i’m so sorry if this is just horribly written (　ﾟдﾟ) Also I apologize if there are any mistakes/inconsistencies or anything like that. I was raised by an immigrant who’s English wasn’t perfect when he had/taught me so mine isn’t perfect either! So much for Eng being my first language LOL.

7:15 AM. The bright red numbers from your shitty alarm clock burned into your eyes as you decided to actually open them and make an attempt to wake up and start your day. You didn’t just wake up now though, you had been awake for the past hour or so; listening to the sound of Jackson slowly coming to life. Your body is still on its usual sleep-wake cycle from traveling on your own. Before you came across a few people and were welcomed into this community, your sleep wasn’t exactly a priority. Sleep was a luxury, you only got a few hours of sleep so you naturally woke up early even though you didn’t exactly need to. Which of course, was miserable but unfixable so far.

Deciding to actually function, you sit up with a sigh; and internally groan at the feeling of the frigid air compared to the warmth of your bed sheets. “Fuck that,” you mumble to yourself, and wrap one of the blankets around you and stand up. After dressing yourself in the appropriate kind of clothing for the mid-December weather, which was beautiful but fucking miserable, you head out to start your day.

Ellie’s coming with you on your patrol today, which wouldn’t be the first time. You two weren’t usually paired up, but you remember her from a few of your first non-group patrols. Actual conversation never really occurred between the two of you, you said hello when meeting up and all that shit; and talked about how to take out the infected that were in the area. But it was never more than that. Not a big deal though, it didn’t make a huge difference to you. Although, a part of you longed for more. Just a little bit more, even if she just asked you how you were feeling that day or if you had any plans. One time during one of your very first patrols you attempted to shoot and ride at the same time; which evidently failed as you got knocked off by a runner. Ellie took care of the infected that had knocked you off, but she had pulled you to safety before doing that. She was grabbing you by the arm, yanking you behind her. After that, for some reason, you couldn’t stop thinking about her grabbing you. Her touching you. You replayed that moment in your head over and over again, even after arriving back in Jackson that day.

But Ellie had been with Dina for 5 months at that point. You had just gotten there, you didn’t already want to tarnish your image with the idea that you’re going after a taken woman. That would fucking suck. That and the fact that it's just plain wrong. So you just took those feelings and shoved them deep down inside you so they would never see the light of day.                                          

“Hey {name}, you signing in? I grabbed Lady from her stable for you already! ” someone else getting ready for a patrol said as they saw you. “Oh, thank you! And uh yeah, just waiting for Ellie. Have you seen her, she's usually the first one here?”

Almost as if on cue, Ellie walked in. Her face was slightly red, and it looked as if she was frowning; her eyebrows furrowed as she mumbled something to herself that you couldn't hear. “Maybe she’s not a morning person,” you thought to yourself, “maybe we have that in common. God, I hope it doesn’t affect her attitude on this patrol, I really don’t feel like dealing with that shit right now.”

You gave her a small wave and a slight smile, and she gave you a nod of acknowledgment as she grabbed Shimmer from her stable.

“You ready? This shouldn’t take too long, this area never really has any infected.” She handed you a map of the route since you’ve never been on it before, and she didn’t want to deal with you getting lost along the way.

As you saddled your horse you took a quick glance over the route, “Hm, yep. Seems easy enough!”

She gave you a small smile, finally. “Alright, let's go then. I just wanna get it done quickly.” And with that, you mounted your horses and headed for the gate to leave.

 The ride was quiet for the most part, aside from a few comments about the weather or a random animal one of you saw. It was really pretty too, you were kinda upset you had never come along on this route before. No infected to take out and good scenery? It was perfect, completely serene.

There were, however, buildings you had to clear of course. And this one seemed rather large and broken down, it almost looked like some sort of gas station or store like that. All of the entrances were blocked by something so you had to figure out a different point of entry.

“Hey,” Ellie motioned towards an open window with her head, “over here. I’ll boost you up and you can help me get in.”

You silently nodded and jumped off Lady, patting her on the side once before jogging over to said window.

She bends down, links her hands together, and nods up towards the opening, “Okay, up you go.”

Stepping onto her hands, she pushes upwards and you’re able to grab onto the very edge of the window. “Fuck, I think I need a little bit more help—it’s a little too high for me to reach.”

Another touch. This time she grabbed onto your leg to help boost you up more. It wasn’t your lower leg though, it was like—The directly below your ass leg area.

Your breath hitched and you were finally up through the window; standing on what you assumed was some sort of storage unit. After helping Ellie up, you turn on your flashlight and start looking around. There wasn’t much really, you found a few extra bullets and some supplies. Plus an old corpse, which wasn’t too pleasant of course.

“So..” Ellie suddenly interrupted the comfortable silence that you two usually experienced during your patrols, “you coming to that party at the church tonight?” Oh. Oh. That's more than the usual small talk.

“Ah, yeah actually. I planned on at least stopping by if I wasn’t too tired. Why? Did you get ditched by Dina?” You said with a slight laugh.

Ellie bit her lip, almost as if that was partially true, “Mn no, was just wondering.” she shrugged and turned to open another door to see if the room was clear. You raised an eyebrow at her before turning to do the same and see if your room was clear.

It was definitely not clear. As soon as you creaked open the door, a clicker rushed out at you. You stumbled back, grabbing your gun from your leg holster and pointing it at its fungi-overtaken head. But you couldn’t aim steady, so much was happening so fast and you were shaken from being jumped by a fucking clicker.

“{reader}, watch out!” Ellie screamed as she ran towards you and the clicker, who was on top of you now. You were barely able to keep it away from your face, its mouth biting down on air as it failed to reach your skin; loud screeches disorienting you even more.

“Fucking— get it off!” Jesus christ this thing was fucking strong. You weren't weak but you’d have a hard time if you were rushed suddenly like this. Ellie grabbed the clicker off of you and shot it once in the head, and it fell to the floor beside you limply.

“{reader} , {reader} are you okay? You’re not bit are you?!” she said panicked, her voice urgent and unstable; and she kneeled down in front of you so you were face to face. “Yeah…yeah, I’m fine.” but you winced. Your face felt..wet? Reaching up to your left cheek you touched where it felt damp, and when your hand drew back you found your fingertips smeared with blood. Were you bit? Maybe you don’t feel it when it happens, and that's why there’s always that dramatic moment in the cheesy old zombie apocalypse movies where the side character realizes they’ve been bit later on.

“Shit, it’s just a scratch but you’re bleeding pretty heavy,” she paused for a second, “I have stuff in my bag for that, you’ll be fine.” She shrugged her backpack off and rummaged around in it before finding a package of first aid supplies. She grabbed cotton balls and hydrogen peroxide before she began dousing them in the liquid.

“Alright this is gonna sting a bit.” she leaned in close and started cleaning your cheek. You know how when you would fall and hurt your knee when you were a kid? And your parents would pull out the rubbing alcohol and tell you it wasn’t gonna hurt at all. But it actually ended up burning really badly? That’s what it felt like, the stinging making you flinch and almost whine.

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts.” she looked at you with sympathy and continued cleaning, apologizing sweetly every time you would wince or groan. A minute later she was done, and she threw the used cotton balls to the side. “Alright, you’re all done. Feel better?” She got up after pausing to stare at you for merely a second and grabbed her backpack from the floor. “You okay to continue? I wanna get through this as quickly as possible now, I don't want that happening again.” She laughed a little, before reaching out her hand to help you get up.

The two of you finished the patrol, not finding any other infected aside from a few runners that you took down easily.  It started snowing at some point while you were scavenging for supplies in some small building and hurried out of there before it would get any worse. She didn’t ask any more questions as she did before on your way back through the route, she was quiet and almost nervous. She’d glance at you every few minutes or so, and just as quickly as she would look she would turn away from you.

The entire trip back home, you dreaded that party. Pulling your horses into the stable, Ellie hesitated before finally speaking for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

“So uh… you said you are going to the party tonight, right?” She looked almost hopeful as if she’d be disappointed if you said no.

“Oh, yeah!” You smiled, a bit too awkward for your own liking, “Uh.. see you there?”

She smiled and nodded, before handing Shimmer off to the stable handler. As you watched her walk away, you felt that same anxiety bubble up in your stomach again. The same anxiety you felt when you first saw the girl before you were informed that she was in a committed relationship. It almost made you feel sick to your stomach, it was that kind of excited anxiety that made you so giddy you could jump up and down and scream. But you couldn't. "Man I'm delusional" you mumbled to yourself as you followed Ellie's actions and handed Lady off, "She's just being friendly. No need to get excited."

No need to get excited.

Right?

[frozenjokes]

Buy The Stars - MARINA / TimeLoopPrison AU Animatic Script

if the companion pieces to the first ever get finished I’ll replace them lol / also ao3 link

You bought a star

In the sky tonight

(Top down) Cub running along with some kind of apparition in the woods. Pan up to the stars and the sky. It’s winter for the vibes

Because your life is dark

Cub is framed in the dark, struggling to keep up with his ghost. His is existence is pretty joyless and this is a skill issue but at least he’s doing something about it.

And it needs some light

A blackberry bush is in focus in front of Cub’s face, who is looking on in some kind of wonder. He gets one good thing. The ghostie is gone

You named it after me

Abrupt cut to a shriveled bush with Cub’s face still behind it. Back to being joyless ✌️ also emaciated and covered in sculk. oops.

But I'm not yours to keep

Pan out to Cub surrounded by police and flashlights in the dead of night. Instead of snow, the ground is mostly sculk.

Because you'll never see

That the stars are free

Cub is apprehended, but he fights like hell. He is very expressive in his last proclamation.

Oh, we don't own our heavens now

Through a window, you see Cub being restrained by multiple doctors until his is sedated.

We only own our hell

Cleo is revealed as our POV, she narrows her eyes in thought.

And if you don't know that by now

Then you don't know me that well

(Abrupt head on shot from a wide angle) Cleo and Cub are cell neighbors. Through the bars, Cleo is speaking to Cub, who is mostly unresponsive. Most of the sculk is gone. Cleo is friendly and the conversation is one sided but light hearted.

All my life, I've been so lonely

All in the name of being holy

(Same angle but on the time loop space ship. Cub and Cleo are in their respective beds) Cub is speaking like the miserable little man he is. He would rather die than be this vulnerable but things happen to you in prison man.

Still, you'd like to think you know me

Cub challenges Cleo, who rolls their eyes.

You keep buying stars

Cleo teases Cub, who doesn’t look amused

And you could buy up all the stars

Back to Cub walking around in da woods. His form is difficult to parse under all the sculk

But it wouldn't change who you are

Close up on his silly little face

You're still living life in the dark

Back to the space ship, Cub is saying this to Cleo, >:( about it

It's just who you are, it's just who you are

Cub accuses Cleo on the first line. (The angle changes to focus on Cleo) Cleo, not taking him seriously, says the same words back.

You bought a star

(From the same angle, Cleo is human in a doctor’s office) Cleo is staring dead eyed at something we can not see.

In the sky tonight

They’re holding a treatment plan for the late stage cancer that’s going to wreck their shit in a few months. There is very little they can do.

And in your man-made dark

(Top down view of some kind of ritualistic bloody torture room. idk man. A table is framed in the middle. Don’t forget the meat!) On the table is a stranger in a hospital gown with a dagger through their chest. Cleo is holding the dagger lololol. The blood from the stranger is leaking off the table and onto the floor where some kind of sigils are drawn.

The light inside you died

The stranger opens their eyes. Notably, Cleo looks ragged and pale and the Meat Bucket is rotten.

Oh, we don't own our heavens now

Cleo, still human looking, is stitching closed a suspiciously dagger shaped chest wound on themself. The injury is not bleeding, in fact, the inside looks pretty black and dead.

We only own our hell

She scratches something on her face and uh oh. the skin comes off. (<- bad)

And if you don't know that by now

Cleo’s phone is blowing up with texts from the same person.

Then you don't know me that well

Her fist (looking BAD) (melting 😬) comes down on the side table, knocking her phone off it.

All my life, I've been so lonely

All in the name of being holy

Back on the spaceship Cleo is FUCKING PISSED‼️

And still, you'd like to think you own me

(Top down view of their beds) Cleo is yelling at the ceiling. Cub follows her view looking :T

You keep buying stars

Cub speaks softly, looking down. he dgaf

And you could buy up all the stars

Cleo holding a dagger over their head With Intention, framed by the night sky but like… she’s in her dungeon.

But it wouldn't change who you are

Someone is yelling at her (greeng) in prison. She is upset. Reasonably. But she also committed several murders so like….

You're still living life in the dark

Cleo is speaking to Cub, accusatory.

It's just who you are, it's just who you are

Cleo says the first line, and Cub, not facing her, repeats it back, unconcerned.

Yeah, you know

only

how to

own me

You know

only

how to

own me

Scar enters the picture. Compilation of him breaking in and dying a lot lol. At least one Cleo kill and one Cub kill. They get along in the end. Scar is still Unwell

You're buying stars to shut out the light

Brief pan across Scar’s troubled childhood.

We come alone and alone we die

(Younger) Scar looses some kind of person behind a wall, cut to him taking cover as the ship explodes.

And no matter how hard you try

Smoke clears as Scar lip syncs desperately on the prison space ship, particularly concerned with food

I'll always belong in the sky

Cub and Cleo give each other a kind of bewildered look.. like damn do we sound like that…

there’s an instrumental section here I’m just gonna ignore

And you could buy up all the stars

Loop 16, Scar walks into the safe room to be presented with a little plush buddy made by Cub and Cleo.

But it wouldn't change who you are

Cleo is telling an animated story while Scar and Cub lay on the same bed, settled in and smiling

You're still living life in the dark

Cub and Cleo laying together, side by side. Probably will be misconstrued as romantic but they’re just unbreakably bonded by the circumstances of their shared misery. Scar might also be here just sprawled entirely over both of them but he’s zzzzzzzz

It's just who you are

Cleo speaks to Cub, smiling.

It's just who you are

Cub smiles as well, repeating the sentiment

It's who you are, it's who you are

The cast going through their worst moments to one of their better ones; Cub in the woods all sculked up to him with the puzzle box, putting the very pin in while Cleo tries to stop him. Confetti comes out one end. Scar is in good spirits

It's who you are, it's who you are

Cleo with their skin falling off 0/10 to her with Scar, either teaching him to use the human keyboard or some sort of English so he can get the basics of literacy in a space he can not read the language. Cub is there like 👍

It's who you are, it's who you are

Scar all bloody and shit from having his face blown off kinda whoops to Scar sitting with Cleo and Cub, the humans eating their meal while Scar’s plush ‘eats’ and Scar watches, all of them in good spirits.

It's who you are, it's who you are

I’m not usually above spoiling my fic but this would be the very ending so… I’ll keep it a secret for now

[sugarcloudsky]

Hi! Welcome to the cookie run x reader community! Here you'll find so many amazing fics, writers, and anons like myself! I am personally a big fan of cookie run x reader stuff and I saw you and thought I'd give you a request and see what your writing is like!

I noticed how you prefer writing for male characters and lucky for you...my top two favs are males lol! (Clotted cream and affogato!)

So I was thinking....may I request am affogato x a shy, sweet reader? Like the reader is an absolute bean?

Again, welcome and I hope you like the people and anon and other writers here!

「The Sweetest Medicine」

character: affogato cookie

wc: 1.1k

cws: none

first request done, i really hope you like it!! thank you for the kind welcome, i appreciate it >_< this rlly came out longer than i expected,,

Early morning hours were always a thing Affogato Cookie quite disliked. The bleary gray sky served to always dampen his mood, and he sometimes found himself longing for the day the Dark Cacao kingdom may just one day see a sunny morning. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. He was too tired to deal with that miserable excuse of a king today. For once, he just wanted to lay in bed all day. Oh, to be able to have an entire day to himself, being able to sit alone and eat all the sweet confectioneries he could ever want—

A knock at his door interrupted his fantasies.

“…Sir Affogato Cookie? Are you awake?”

Normally, he wouldn’t have sprung up from his soft mattress so quickly, but perhaps this case was a bit special. He quickly straightened his hair before replying in the same sugary voice the cookies of the kingdom was so used to hearing, “I’ll be right out.”

After a few moments of changing out of his sleep attire and fixing himself up, he slides open the door to his chambers. There, he meets you waiting for him. He carefully scans your figure, taking in your nervous body language. He watches as you entirely avoid eye contact with him, as well as noting that you are obviously hiding something behind your back with your two hands.

“My, my, quite the lovely sight, even in these early morning hours. What brings you to my chambers so early, hm?”

His compliment caught you entirely off guard, causing your face to burn and the speech you had planned in your head to completely dissipate. You try to speak, but the words are caught in your throat. The only thing that comes out is a quite frankly pathetic mess of words.

“I— You— F— Ah,” You stumble over your words, and your face burns even brighter when you hear him chuckle. Panic quickly enters you, is he already laughing at you?! Oh crumbs, this really was a bad idea. You pull one of your arms out from behind you, subconsciously try to hide your face in your hand in an attempt to calm yourself.

“Sorry, I—”

“Why don’t you come in, hm?”

“Huh?!”

You bite your lip in embarrassment at your loud exclamation. Other cookies who were roaming the halls of the citadel all turned to you, and at that moment you might as well have just melted into a puddle. Affogato chuckled again as he gently peels your hand away from your face. His hands cup your own as he softly pulls you into his bedchamber. You aren’t able to get a word in before you're standing in the middle of his room.

“What is it you wanted to tell me? You don’t have to worry about anyone else being around.”

You do not reply. You are frozen in place, unmoving. This isn't how you planned for this to go. All you wanted to do was give him what you made for him, and leave. That’s it. You didn’t expect to be standing in the middle of his bedroom alone with him. This is the worst possible outcome, you thought. How did it turn out this way?

He observes you closely, almost being able to hear the gears turning inside your head. He quietly sits on the edge of his bed, his eyes not leaving your stiff form. He clears his throat as a means to get your attention, and you jolt. Affogato pats the space on his bed beside him, beckoning you to sit next to him, and you hesitate.

“S—Sir, I really don’t think this is appropriate. I shouldn’t be in here so casually with you…” you fluster.

“Why so worried, hm? It’s just us in here. You can sit next to me as much as you like.” He deflects, still patting the space next to him.

Attempting to swallow your nervousness, you sit. Immediately, you’re hit with the mixed scent of coffee and ice cream. The bitterness of the coffee with the sweetness of the ice cream left your head spinning and cheeks burning once again. Oh crumbs, he smells really nice— no! That’s creepy! Just give him what you wanted to give him and go!

After what felt like forever, you pulled out what you had hiding behind your back onto your lap. It was a neatly wrapped box with a cute little ribbon on top. Affogato’s curiosity peaks as he asks you what’s in the box.

“It’s— um, I made you.. I made you a cake… because I heard you talking about how you… you liked sweets…” Your voice grew softer as your sentence continued, your figure shrinking on the spot.

For a moment, there’s only silence.

Then, he laughs.

“My, my,” he says, attempting to suppress his giddiness, “For me? How charming. You’ve come to me this early in the morning just to give me this?”

You nod. You’re so flustered and embarrassed at this point, you thought you were going to explode at any moment now. He gingerly takes the box from your grasp, untying the ribbon and opening the lid. Inside was a small chocolate colored cake with light fluffy icing, along with a cute little spoon. His eyes widened at the sight. The aroma was divine and the cake looked delicious.

He smiles as he turns to gaze at you, eyes holding pure adoration for you. He watches as you fiddle with your fingers nervously, your eyes glued to the floor in front of you.

“Thank you.” he sighs. His tone is so different from what you’re used to hearing. It was so genuine and kind in comparison to the faux sweetness he held with any other cookie in the kingdom. “I appreciate it, truly.”

“It’s— It’s nothing!” you nervously laugh, still refusing to face him. Despite your embarrassment, you’re glad he likes your gift. Sure, a cake so early in the morning might be a bit odd to some, but he likes it, so that’s all you really care about. You spent almost the entire night in the kitchens of the citadel, perfecting your recipe to make sure it was well suited for Affogato Cookie, Dark Cacao Cookie’s right hand.

“Such a thoughtful gift from a lovely cookie deserves a reward, does it not?” he hums in an unrecognizable tone, causing you to look up at him quizzically.

Your sputter, eyes widening.

He smiles angelically, motioning a spoonful of the cake towards you. If it was even possible, your face darkened even more. But you could’ve sworn his own cheeks held a light red tint as well.

“Say ‘ah’.”

[missathlete31]

My Guess for the Top Gun 3 Movie Plot -

This is what I THINK it will be about, not necessarily what I WANT it to be about:

I think it's going to be way more Rooster centric but begin with Maverick to not scare off the loyalists right from the start. (But also if they begin the title credits with anything BUT planes taking off to the Main Theme, I'll walk out of the theater myself lol).

So it opens with Maverick in his hangar. He will be retired but still flying his own planes and restoring them. We see on his board of memories that Maverick is still close to Bradley and the Daggers (showing some of the other characters and where their lives have taken them) but the most important part will be a yet to be identified woman in some of the photos with Bradley, including what must be their wedding photo. Maverick walks away from the wall, cleans himself off and heads out on his motorcycle- Classic Danger Zone moment.

He arrives at a cute little bungalow type house in North Island. It's Bradley's and he welcomes his Godfather with a hug hello before bringing him inside. There we meet Rooster's wife (let's call her Jennifer to make it easier) who hugs Mav as well, and fusses him to sit while they bring dinner over to the table.

Dinner is a comfortable affair until Bradley brings up that his latest leave is up and he will be getting his orders soon. Jennifer immediately looks worried which Mav notices so he tries to play it off as maybe Bradley will be assigned another teaching position if he can manage not to annoy the Airboss again. Rooster takes the bait, says it wasn't his fault the man was uptight (showing a much freer and fun Bradley than the last movie) leading to them discussing all of Mav's teaching mishaps as well.

The rest of the night goes smoothly, and Bradley walks Pete out to his motorcycle. Before they part, Rooster shares that he has been hearing talks that they will be deployed towards the unrest in (I'd assume the studio will put in the area that will offend the least amount of people). Pete nods, he's heard the same whispers, but has been hoping Bradley's team will be spared. He warns Bradley to be careful regardless of where they go and to keep him informed. When Pete gets home he sees news reports of war and planes crashing and he looks miserable.

Cut to North Island where hopefully Admiral Simpson and Admiral Bates (if both actors come back) stand in the briefing room talking to two Commanders: Bradley Bradshaw and Jake Seresin. Both men stand at attention and listen as they are informed their teams are being deployed together. They will be tasked with aerial support and surveillance for the war area. When they are dismissed we learn they do get along much better now since the last movie. The rivalry is still there but it's more playful, Jake is still cocky and a bit of a jerk but Bradley gives it back just as much. The two head off to their respective teams to talk to them. We meet Rooster's team, a bunch of new pilots, young but good. They all seem eager to prove themselves in combat. Bradley is sure to reiterate to them that this is a war zone, this isn't games anymore, but the real thing. The team looks a bit more nervous now but agree and get to work with shaping up and preparing to ship out.

Back at home, Bradley informs Jennifer of his new orders as they lay together in bed. She worries, as he expects, but he promises to do everything he can to come back to her. She looks like she wants to tell him something but doesn't, and they both look uneasy as they turn off the lights to go to sleep.

Deployment goes well at first. It's all basic routes and routines and both Rooster's team and Hangman's team do well. There would be a bunch of clips of their time on the ship: the teams hanging out off duty, Bradley writing letters or calling Jennifer and Mav, or just interactions with each other.

One day alarms are blaring and all the pilots are woken up. Immediate air support is needed to protect a UN-sanctioned ammunition move that is under attack by the enemy forces. It's a toss up for which team will be sent up but finally the Admiral on deck sends Hangman's team. He offers Bradley a look before he heads out, and Rooster can't help feel like this flight is going to be different. He heads back down to his quarters to tell his team to stand-down, but they all stay to listen on the radio.

What was thought to only be a ground attack escalates very quickly. Hangman's team is ambushed and it is a massacre in the sky. Bradley is forced to listen as planes start dropping, nothing they can do to get out of there as they are out-numbered and severely out gunned. Seresin tries to protect his team and manages to get two of his pilots back but he himself is killed. Bradley is speechless.

The funeral for Hangman brings back a lot of the Daggers (as many as can be brought back due to scheduling). Rooster is really taking it hard as he feels like it very easily could have been him that was up there that day and faced all those enemy fighters. He knows he's lucky it wasn't but he also doesn't know when his luck is finally going to run out. He loves Jennifer and he is scared that he will leave her like his mother was left. Maverick sees Bradley struggling and tries to talk to him but old habits die hard and Bradley pushes him away, focusing on trying to help Hangman's family (because I think he would be married with a maybe a kid or two).

After the funeral Pete learns from Cyclone or Hondo that Rooster has put in to be permanently grounded. He goes to find his godson, learning during the trip that Bradley and Jennifer are expecting. Afraid of history repeating itself, Rooster explains that he can't go back out there, not after watching how easily Hangman was killed, and knowing the same thing could happen to him. He refuses to do that to Jennifer or his future child. Maverick takes the role of  Viper in this movie, talking to Bradley about his fears and telling him that flying is in his blood and he belongs out there. He can't control what might happen up there but he also can't let the fear of the what if's stop him. Bradley tells Maverick he will think about it but still doesn't rejoin his team.

This part is a little less developed but:

As the conflict heats up, Bradley is stationed back at a base on land. He hears of the devastation and learns of the casualties but still he hesitates. I'm not sure what the catalyst will be that gets him back out there (maybe he loses another teammate? Or someone else from the Daggers gets sent instead? I think it would be dramatic and maybe cliché but even maybe Bradley gets to hear his child's heartbeat for the first time and decides that his son deserves a father who doesn't hide and instead fights). Or to give Tom more screen time, maybe the two get to fly together again for a training and Bradley realizes that Maverick was right, his place is in the sky protecting his family and his country. Either way, Bradley deploys and rejoins his team.

Cut back to dogfight scenes. It will be dicey but Bradley will prevail, save the day for whatever chaotic mission needed to be complete, celebration on the deck, maybe even give Bradley his own little protégé that helps save his neck.

Movie ends back at the Hangar, Maverick is walking with his back to the camera over to the wall. When the camera shifts, there is a baby in his arms: it's little Nicholas Bradshaw and Pete is showing him all the photos of his family. The baby giggles at a photo of Carole and Goose, and then we see Bradley and Jennifer come up too, the whole family together and happy.

The End lol

Let it be known- I also think Hangman might live and just be really hurt. Depends on how high they want the shock value. If he's only hurt then he can talk to Rooster too about getting back up there (helping their relationship as well).

[phoenixcatch7]

Random mdzs headcanons that I don't think interfere with canon:

Though sufficient cultivation cures this, lwj is short sighted. (this is because of that mxtx interview but if he actually was short sighted he would be wearing glasses in canon.) Similarly, so would lxc and lqr is already halfway there lol.

Wen chao is barely older than the main cast. Like a couple years at most. This is is because it took until his poor wife (who shall forever be unknown, rip) being mentioned for me to go 'that's an ADULT?!'. Everything from the voice to the face to the short sighted immaturity and the lying to adults in charge, there's no way this guy is anything over 20.

Lqr isn't a very strong cultivator for all his technical skill is impeccable. I think this because I thought he was young grandparent age when he's the uncle!! It's too much stress! Major props.

He's also aromantic! We know that nothing will stop a lan in love, much to their detriment, but not only does lqr seem to regard the lot of them as idiots for finding the absolute worst choices ever but I feel if he'd also loved and lost it would have been... Relevant.

Jfm was gay, and his unrequited love was wcz. Alternate sexualities (and queerness as a whole) is one of those things that's still so dangerous in many countries, and I guess ancient fantasy China is one of them! Poor mxy. Anyway that plus arranged marriages plus jfm being an only child (to my knowledge) and needing heirs... Yeah I feel like that's one of those things that happens. It's common all throughout history, forcing people into het relationships for any number of reasons or risk social (or even physical) death. I could so easily trace how that would have affected him through the courtship, marriage, his parents, him genuinely trying to love yzy and maybe deep inside knowing it was doomed to fail, her intelligence picking up on that and trying to figure out how she was unworthy, her feeling hurt and disrespected, getting more and more paranoid and sensitive as it wears on, her being so close to the right answer but correcting her would expose him. Him just trying to settle for mutual respect and teamwork and her never getting what she needs to be fulfilled in life, what she was raised and trained all her life in preparation for. The way he's so unwilling to force his kids to do anything miserable and the way he's so quick to call off the engagement when all he's hearing is disinterest and incompatibility. I could make this a whole post on its own but I fully believe this man lived and died like so many other queer people have in the past - never being able to find out who he truly was, and that he wasn't broken for not being the way he needed to be. Wangxian have an easier time of it, but when there's stories like mxy? People keep their heads down. He raised jc the way he was raised, and he turned out fine. It wasn't their fault he was such a failure of a son.

To cheer things up, I firmly believe that wwx is bisexual af. Just because lwj is his soulmate doesn't mean he's not. Are you an mxtx protag if you're simply, straightforwardly gay? I think not.

Though I do wonder if jc being Banned From Women was 100% an entirely whoopsie daisy accident. Sometimes standards are supposed to be impossible... Now I think about it, the certainty lwj hated wwx, the total lack of any partner, the focus on jl, the constant frustration with wwx's flirting and incomprehension with jyl crushing on jzx... I think the women are the only straight ones in the family, cuz he's sounding the aroace bell! Good for him tbh!!! Break the cycle!!!!

Lsh is the child of either wrh, wc, jgs, or two perfectly lovely normal people who died in war/childbirth. He was 100% a village kid, so thank goodness they all stepped up. I feel like one of the wens would have told wwx his parentage either way, so if he hasn't told anyone else I can't imagine it's great.

Each sect is associated with an element. The wens of course were fire, the nie earth, the lan air, the jin water (koi/carp tower), and the jiang are lightning (given we assume yzy and the jiang territory are compatible (her husband is probably water lol oof)). Years of specialised clan training and select marriages have caused the clan members qi to take on movement (at minimum) matching the respective elements. This is based on the anime, where everyone has nice handy colour coded qi, but the twin jades have the prettiest cloud texture that perfectly matches their crest and wwx has an almost lightning spiky red with just enough smoulder to make he sure he's a fire type. This also!!! Matches their fighting styles, have you noticed?? Idk if they did it on purpose or not but it's so cool!!! Wwx and jc are constantly moving, redirection, bounce and flip around; lwj and lxc are very twirly, lots of attacks from above, lwj often lets his sword fly mid battle, and of course the music! And the nie are very... Brick wall lol. I'd say NHS is air? Maybe? Water?

This one's a bit silly, but I like to imagine csr and bsr are mother and daughter from a distant land where people use their surnames last (gasp) and it wasn't really important to bsr cuz secluded mountain but they did figure it was going to be a problem a touch late. 'oh but phoenix they have different spellings in Chinese' csr got asked 'oh so like the immortal?' panicked and changed it on the spot. Her husband's nicknames all use her 'surname', he's the only one who knows about the mix up.

Spinning in the air helps you change an attack or helps you float. Yes this is based entirely on the anime (donghua?) where even the most serious of characters (lwj) do three full rotations before landing a big attack midair. It might be so he has time to get his guqin out lmao.

Jc is left handed, I'm pretty sure that's anime canon at least. Any good swordsman (or dual sword whip wielder!) can do a little ambidexterousness tho.

Wwx can do decent guqin cuz he's the gentleman prodigy of the arts but he probably whittled a dozen dizi out of roadside bamboo on long journeys to entertain himself which is why chengching was such a fine tuned spiritual tool.

The jiangs were a great sect lead by good people in an ehhhh family. Individually they're all actually decent people but they bring out the worst in each other even as it keeps them all in check.

I firmly believe that yzy was holding back a LOT when made to whip wwx in front of the wen wench. That's a whole entire spiritual weapon and she was going at it wildly in a barely stable environment. Compare that to lwj who took the discipline whip not too many more times (if any) and was rendered bed bound if not house bound for years recovering (and grieving) and over a decade later is still a mass of scar tissue. And that was an orderly and structured punishment using materials designed to NOT kill the victim, not a whole entire LIGHTNING MURDER WEAPON. Wwx was back on his feet minutes later sword fighting, rowing, carrying jc on his back... Lwj is the more realistic result, real whips can be lethal, and very, very dangerous. They are excruciatingly painful and if you make a mistake they can easily flay skin and muscle to crack bone. You're not supposed to strike the same patch of skin twice. Yeah wwx and his stupid pain tolerance but I truly believe him and yzy were in full accord in that moment with the roles they had to play (and jc hated every second). She could at least have apologised... in the middle of heated battle for her home and life though....

Lwjs eyes are gold and sunset and stars' YES ALSO BUT I looked at them and my immediate reaction was 'that's a bird of prey'. They're LITERALLY falcon eyes, they're identical, and I've never once seen that comparison :(. He's already piercing/intense/pinning/scouring, (and his anime eyeliner and dark lashes look like the markings) he's so perfect for the metaphor. Make it that wwx is the rabbit prey, come on.

Why is wwx sun coded but moon aesthetic and lwj moon coded but sun aesthetic like how's that fair why does it always happen.

Stop blaming wwx for Suiban he admits he came up with a zillion good names and it was jfm who didn't pick any and named it as a joke. Ngl if that was my trusted person who went and did that I would have been gutted but hey wwx thrives. I do feel like jfm naming the sword that wwx sacrifices to save jc is grounds for some angst at the very least.

Lxc was definitely in some situation with the other two because he does read as a parallel to lwj. Their romantic lives are basically inversions of each other, you could hold a graph up to a mirror. It's just that lwj was so deeply lucky to get wwx back, and he fell in love with someone true to himself. Lxc just got used and left with the ashes, no matter how much true love was on either side. Wwx chose family, kindness and community with poverty and jgy chose greed and power and wealth for total isolation. It was NHS that inverted their fates, but either brother's love could only come at the cost of the other. Poor qiren...

All those fancy huge ribbons in everyone's hair (again it's the anime donghua) are special and ridiculously sturdy ribbons given by the parents they wear in varying styles to tie it all up and as they grow up so they don't trip on it. This is a silly headcanon but I love it cuz those ribbons are stupid long and literally everyone has it. Maybe it's the mdzs equivalent of the guan ceremony?

Wwx has for sure done cannibalism.

Ooh painful headcanon time - his parents died in yiling right? And all corpses get tossed into the mounds for centuries, right? Nonzero chance wwx's parents bodies broke his fall.

Lwj gets wwx a mule for a birthday/festival cuz those guys are basically the perfect mounts humans are ever going to get, they're just v rare and infertile. They're smart and brave as donkeys and fast and strong like the horse, resulting in an animal that is down for mounted parkour with the right training. And then lwj can ride a horse alongside wwx when they go travelling ^^. Idk I just think it'd be super cute.

Wwx only comes up with good names when he's doing real bad. Names when he's doing good: Suiban, li'l apple, rulan (after his bf). Names when he's doing bad: chengqing, yin iron tally/stygian tiger amulet, compass of evil.

[donotpush]

Big and full

CW: feeding/stuffing kink, gaining (mention of weight gain), pregnancy, slightly NSFW-ish content but most of it just fluff :). 

Hi! This is a comission I did for a dear friend of mine (hi Vera c:) and she allowed me to publish here. As you can see, it's not my usual content (actually, it's something I'm not to familiar with lol) but I hope you can enjoy it!

Alissa stared at herself in the mirror, and the woman standing in front of her was a total stranger.

Her fingers brushed over the fabric of her shirt, caressing her bump before her fingers slowly started to undo the buttons one by one. 

She knew that her body, her whole self, would change. And she was almost ready to take it in as a blessing, a moment to appreciate changing and her new body as it came.

It was a miracle, after all; she was growing not one but two new lives inside her. It was something to be more than proud of, and of course, she had to put on some weight!

But as the months went by, and as her pregnancy went on, her wife’s cooking skills also gathered a new level of greatness. Leah became a wonderful cook.

Not only did she take care of the house, and being a stay-at-home mom-to-be, Leah found time to perfect her cooking skills.

It started with less takeout and more homemade food, and then the homemade food became elaborate fancy plates worthy of a restaurant. 

Oh, and dessert almost every night? It was almost as if Leah was doing it purposefully at this point.

That explained why the reflection she saw was completely different from the Alissa she knew six months ago. 

Her thighs had become soft and giggly, bigger than before and growing along with her stomach, not only huge because of the two lives growing inside but with an additional warm and soft thickness from eating way too much.

Her toned arms now hide under a layer of fat, strong as always but now gentle and squishy; she put weight on everywhere, she was heavy, and she learned to love that feeling of being full. 

Her breasts, now huge, engorged with milk, were full. And she loved it. Her stomach was full of life and full of delicious food. 

Being full, that's what she loved the most. 

Her hands found their way to her own back, crawling up her skin to unclasp her bra, freeing her aching chest for once. 

Her breasts hang low, heavy in front of her, just like her belly.

Sometimes it was hard to see such a different person, and it was a continuous battle of hating-loving the new Alissa. 

But the pleasure of feeling full always won. 

Her mouth started watering as she wondered what her wife was cooking. Hopefully, something sweet. The babies were craving it.

“God…” she mumbled to herself, turning to the side to examine her image in the mirror.

Her ass and belly, covered in freshly red stretch marks, had never been so huge. To Leah, it all was alluring, but Alissa was starting to doubt it.

Her train of thought was interrupted when a pair of hands gripped her hips gently, squeezing softly before they traveled further up to her breasts. Looking down, one hand started to knead her breasts, massaging the tender area softly as the other hand rubbed over the curve of her abdomen. 

She looked at the mirror again to watch as her wife worked her magic, her eyes falling shut as pleasure started spreading through her body.

"What?" Leah mumbled, staring at the half-naked reflection in the mirror "What's wrong?"

The redhead just shook her head, trying to smile and failing miserably. She took one last look at her reflection before fixing her eyes on her wife's. 

"I've put on too much weight lately, huh?" Alissa asked rhetorically. “Maybe I should quit all that stuff you make, babe. It's getting..." her hands moved to the underside of her belly, "...well…bigger."

Leah smiled shyly, nodding slightly, and her hands moved from Alissa's breasts down to her belly before cupping the bump lovingly. 

"Well, what did you expect with two healthy babies in here?"

Leah's tone told Alissa that she wasn't in for any kind of argument. 

"You know that's not what I mean," she insisted "I should start eating more healthily... that means no dessert."

Leah's hands slid off her belly, making her feel cold for a second, and she wrapped her arms around Alissa before pouting. 

"But...but... you're eating for three now!" she exclaimed, before taking a deep breath, "...and you're the hottest woman I know. Especially now. Like right now."

Alissa snorted in amusement, rolling her eyes. "You're unbelievable," she murmured, pulling her wife into a kiss, their closeness only interrupted by the redhead’s gravid belly between them. 

A small moan escaped her lips when Leah pressed her body against hers, and Alissa wasn’t sure if it was because her libido was doing unreal things lately, or because the sudden smell of black forest cake seeped inside the bedroom and invaded her nostrils.

“I’m serious, babe…” Alissa whined.

“I’m serious too! All this,” Leah interrupted, her hands softly gripping all over Alissa's body, her fingers playing with her stomach. "Is nothing but proof of how incredible you are. What a beautiful thing you've become!" The words were sweet, but the tone was full of desire. "And I love it, all of it" the last word seemed to float in space for a while. "All of it."

Alissa couldn't help but smile.

“So?” Leah mumbled, “You have no idea what a delicious dessert I made. You seriously gonna stand me up like that?”

Humming, Alissa stared at her wife through the mirror, before her eyes narrowed in thought. A small smile formed on her lips as she turned around, leaning in to press a buzzing kiss against Leah’s bare shoulder.

“I could divorce you for this” Leah breathed, enjoying the touch. “It’s a deal breaker for me, y’know?”

“Yeah?” the redhead chuckled, taking Leah’s hands in hers, moving them for her ass to rest on her belly. One of the babies kicked. “Alright, but only because your kids are demanding it.”

Leah jumped a bit in her place, pulling away from her wife with a grin. Alissa thought she could eat all the little silly cakes needed if that meant making Leah happy.

Leah rushed out of the door, and Alissa waddled towards her bed to grab the discarded shirt and pull it again, buttoning only the necessary buttons so it didn’t hang open. 

***

“M’lady," Leah pulled the chair back, allowing her wife to sit down before pressing a small kiss against her neck. “Good. Great. Glad to serve you tonight.”

The plate slid in front of her, and Alissa's mouth almost watered. 

Not only did it smell good, but it also looked amazing, and since her wife’s hands were magic, she couldn’t wait to taste it in her mouth.

She reached to grab a fork, but Leah’s hand won the race and got ahead, taking the fork first. With a questioning look, Alissa bit the tip of her tongue. 

“Allow me to…” Kneeling next to her, Leah took a piece of the cake “...here.”

“I’m not…a baby” crossing her arms over her gravid belly, Alissa raised an eyebrow, tilting her chin up and looking down at her wife. “Totally can eat it myself. Are you seriously gonna do this, hun?”

“I’m not babying you,” Leah argued softly, resting her chin against Alissa’s arm. “I just want to pamper my wife. Completely spoil you.”

Alissa hesitated for a single second before her stomach grumbled when the smell of whipped cream and chocolate started teasing her indignantly.

“Fine” the redhead nodded, her eyes following the fork full of cake in the air. “Alright.”

Leah giggled as she moved the fork in the air, taking it to Alissa's parted lips with annoying slowness for the redhead, and as soon as it touched her tongue, she let out a loud groan.

Leah’s eyebrow raised expectantly as she pulled away a bit, staring carefully at every expression that crossed her wife’s face. The redhead's eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowed as she chewed, and Alissa tilted her head back slightly as she relished the food.

It was delicious.

“Li, baby,” the redhead moaned, opening her eyes to stare at Leah. “This is not great, it’s amazing. So good…!

The chocolate, the perfectly achieved texture of the cake, the whipped cream that now covered the corners of her lips, everything was a perfect combination and it tasted like heaven. This woman knew how to do these things.

Leah’s hand traveled to her belly, lifting her shirt a bit to caress the underside of it before they moved to rest on her soft thigh. With a reassuring squeeze, she leaned in to rest her ear against her wife’s huge stomach.

The twins moved inside, making the redhead groan and Leah chuckle. Alissa’s tummy grumbled, protesting for more, and Leah moved to put another piece of cake on the fork. 

Alissa took another bite, Leah’s hand rubbing softly all over her belly, sending Alissa into relaxation under the soothing touch.

Bite after bite, the huge piece of cake that Leah had set down on the pristine white plate was gone, leaving behind only a chocolate-covered mess. 

Alissa spread her legs wider, trying to accommodate her bloated belly a bit better; if it wasn’t hard enough, whenever she ate the already huge stomach that rested in front of her bloated even more. 

And she would be lying if she said that she didn’t find a certain guilty pleasure in the feeling of being so full; of her babies, of sweet, delicious food. 

That’s the part that made it so hard to put the fork down, every bite and flavor seemed to be the best she ever had, and being so full, so bloated, with a loving wife willing to give her all the belly rubs that she needed afterwards. It was hard.

Alissa tilted her head to face Leah, who was licking the rest of the cake from the fork, and raised her eyebrows as she bit her lip. “...still have a bit of room, y’know?”

“Huh? I thought you were trying to quit all this…” Smirking, Leah stood up, taking the plate with her.

The redhead watched as her wife put another piece of cake on the plate before bringing it to the table. Without another word, Leah was once again almost stuffing her face with cake. And Alissa had no complaints.

By the moment she finished the second round, Alissa’s face was flustered, messy and blushed. She felt like a kid as she licked her fingers clean, Leah’s thumb brushing over the corner of her lips to clean a whipped cream stain. 

With a sigh, Alissa looked down at her gravid belly, now resting heavy and full on her thighs between her open legs. She had to pull the chair back to get more room for her belly, but it felt so good to be so full.

When Leah’s hand started rubbing all over the tense, bloated orb, Alissa moaned and leaned her head back, her whole body relaxing as her stomach was pampered. 

She took a deep breath, and when she exhaled, pop. 

The lonely button that shamelessly tried to cover her belly popped, revealing her stomach and her engorged breasts.

“Hmh…” Alissa moaned, biting her lips as she pushed her hips forward, not caring about anything else but the feeling of her lover’s hand. 

Amazed, Leah stared in awe and lust at her wife. The babies moved under her touch, getting another moan from her mom’s lips, and Leah just could smirk thinking about her next recipe. 

“What a perfect view” Leah whispered against her skin, her hand massaging the hard belly. "And you know the best part?"

Alissa lifted her gaze, watching how her wife slowly lowered herself onto her knees and gently ran her fingers across the swollen stomach, and she knew the answer. The best part was that she had yet to get even bigger.

"We still have so much time to satisfy all your cravings" Leah hummed, her hand coming to rest on the curve of her stomach where the twins were kicking, their gazes locked together, both of them smirking at each other. "Get you big. Big and full, hun."

[ramu-ego]

tis just a thirst honestly but the idea of dumbification is so?? like, i feel like it isn’t talked about enough (highly biased opinion though). dumbification with reo though ..

he’s a rich pretty boy who’s honestly really smart, yet he’s getting called stupid, an idiot, taunted and laughed at as if he has no idea in the world about anything. he could be getting fucked senseless or just even degraded and dumbed down for the fun of it without any sex yet, but he still tears up a little at how good it feels to just be insulted that way??

i just think treating reo like a common whore while telling him he can’t even think for himself would do it for him (more like, it’s just what i want to do LOL!) - 💌

(nsfw) DUMB BOY :: xfemdom!Reader

💌 anon my beloved this wasn't forgotten I've just struggled to find the time to treat our rich pretty boy so rightfully wrong 😭 ♡ -askbox open cw: fem!Reader, dom!Reader, dumbification, slight degredation, pegging, anal sex, belly bulge, sexual content, unedited word count: sloppy drabble character(s): Reo Mikage

DNI :: minors, blank blogs + m!Reader blogs

"Aww your so dumb- So stupid- So eager! You didn't even think this was too big?? Look at you- Barely being able to take it- Fucking slut."

Rich with perverse enjoyment in the very moment Reo pressed himself back against the slimy tip of the toy. He'd tried two times now to no avail. Struggling, panting, unable to form a good retort as you laid there with your hands ghosting over his thighs for encouragement. Those tiny little brows of his knitted together while he tried to focus. Struggling with the muscles in his thighs jumping to life when he tried to lower himself down on your strap. Waiting to watch a third attempt fail miserably and let you mock him for his inability to even take your silly silicone cock. You weren't expecting him to finally stubbornly succeed when the bulbous purple tip popped into his quivering ass.

As he was about to celebrate you stole that from him with a death grip on his thighs and a buck of your hips right up into him. Gooey lube making it the easiest thing to bury your strap in his guts without resistance. Reo's beautiful eyes popping open wide. Just like his mouth in the cutest dumb little O shape. Voiceless save for his choking moan. He quickly doubled over on your chest shuddering at the size and shift in his aching insides the moment you buried every inch of the ribbed toy inside him.

"Aww, you can take it can't you?" You reached down to stroke the frizzy parts of his bangs down after he'd worked himself up into a tizzy, "But why shouldn't you? You're such a dumb little cock whore it's the least you could do, swallow me up like a good fucktoy."

Mind buzzing with nothing but the fullness stealing all his attention. There was little to think about before Reo found his hips rocking back and forth on your strap. Sticky lube drying and becoming tacky around the base of the toy as he lifted himself off and sat back all in one foul swoop. Going from wiggling his hips to full on fucking himself on the large toy. What was frustration quickly gave way to pure fucked out bliss by the time he finally lifted his head. Eyes glossed over in pleasure with the self inflicted abuse of his own prostate on your strap. Face growing redder by the second while his thoughts got fuzzy. Unsure when it even happened. Soon the drool dribbling from the corner of his mouth only added to the tongue out, fucked out look he had as he rode you. Reo greedily fucking you much to the protest from the bed frame groaning under his excited hips.

"God your so fucking pathetic." You touched down his dewy cheek. Curling fingers lightly around his throat with the threat of choking him. But when you didn't tighten your grip Reo let out a meek little mewl of disapproval but couldn't stop his hips. Fuck for his own words Reo only had what you kept spewing out to go off as he lost his mind slowly on your strap, "Breed yourself on my strap like a real cock hungry whore." Hands drifting to his broad thighs tensing every time he bounced up and down on your strap, you gripped them and pushed him down fully on every last inch of your cock to see his glossy eyes pop open wide. From the depths of his aching insides the toy pushed against his prostate and the rest of his innards to make the cutest little bulge in his otherwise toned belly. Leaving you wanting to distend it even more with how well he was taking it, "Can't even speak up, god too bad I can't rent that mouth out for a good cock while you ride me slut."

Panting heavily with the occasional spasm on your strap as the pressure inside him built. Reo couldn't even make sense of the fire growing in his stomach as well as the aching need in his untouched cock as it bounced against his stomach each time he moved. Slime trail of precum dripping from his untouched slit while the abuse to his prostate continued. Utterly unaware of your hands gripping his thighs before it was too late. His hips meeting yours the second you thrusted into him for real now. Driving your strap down to the base in his sloppy hole. Reo lurking forward with a choked up moan stolen from his lungs. Every thought he might have had in that moment flatlining to replace his need for you to fuck him. His hips spreading further apart on yours. Loosening up and holding himself above you as you snapped your hips into him.

The beautiful bulge bubbling up in his flat belly one right after the other. Until you were rutting into the deepest part of him. Reo's croaking moans the only noise to be paired with the creak of the bed frame. His silence only momentary though as his fuzzy thoughts came to a head suddenly. In a gush of cum all over your belly and his own. Reo cried out with the sudden release of pleasure and pressure. His seed spilling out onto your belly with his choked sobs. Curling into himself as his body gave up but your hips didn't. Fucking him right through his orgasm onto another one. A drier more intense one as he convulsed on top of you panting, begging and pleading nonsense past his chapped pale lips. Not a droplet of cum passing his twitching slit as you wasted no time making sure his insides would remember the imprint of your strap the following day. Finally giving him a break only after Reo could no longer hold himself up. Slipping off your lap and the strap to collapse right next to you.

Out of breath, panting and unable to even lift his head after that. You couldn't help roll over a little bit and pet his purple locks down with a giggle, "My little fucktoy...can't wait to try even more toys on a dumb eager thing like you."

[mainfaggot]

just put up art on my walls. they're pastel sketches from last June + this past January that were done during particularly upsetting periods ... as in i was drawing through tears and i was miserable and i was forcing myself to create because my psychologist said i had to stop self sabotaging etc. i kind of want to take them down because they're so Real UGH AGHHHHHHHG they're just stupid fucking landscape sketches (and also one still from a music video lmfao), but the colours, lighting, atmosphere are so ummmm melancholic and distressing. it's like im putting my internal agonies on display in my bedroom. embarrassing! embarrassing. no it isn't because it's My bedroom (in my Mother's house... so it still feels wrong). but then again it feels right. as in: yes, that happened. yes, i cried while I made this. yes, I didn't want to. yes, it felt pointless at the time. now, it feels kind of cathartic to have proof of my suffering and internal developments. the pieces sort of have meaning, 7-14 months later lol. the significance being: i survived, it was all real even if it was inside my head, and i put it on paper in a way that's not completely inaccurate. or something. it's weird. i remember simply feeling exhausted after drawing these pieces. i was so stuck. i hid them in the back of a sketchbook. i didn't like them in the technical sense either (the contrast wasn't strong enough, the blending wasn't smooth enough, etc). i don't really mind that they're mediocre anymore. they're pretty decent all things considered. it's whatever. my walls are full. that's what the inside of my head looks like. only i know that. no one could tell unless I said so myself. it's my very own secret! (you know now but I'm not showing youuuu just tellingggg)