#makes my job feel like even a lITTLE meaningful which like

[lyriumsings]

another day of daydreaming about my ocs while i earn money packing up cookies and donuts leggo

[prongsx]

Favors in exchange for kisses

warnings: kisses, English its not my first language, small mention of blood. f!reader

1,5 K words

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You don't know exactly how you got into this situation with Jason. But you're not complaining.

It started months ago, when your long-time friend Dick Grayson heard you complaining about not having a place to live and mentioned that he knew someone you could trust to share an apartment with, with his brother, Jason Todd.

You were hesitant to accept, after all, you didn't know Jason Todd, but this was Gotham, and finding someone you could trust to share an apartment with was almost impossible. And it would only be for a while.So you went to live with Dick Grayson's brother.

Jason was kind of quiet, mysterious, and his blue eyes left you a little confused and breathless. It took you a while to be able to have meaningful conversations with him, it was hard to learn more about him, but little by little you won a small space in his life.You discovered his favorite books, learned his schedule, understood how sometimes he didn't want to talk, other times he was more open, and you learned to appreciate those moments when you both talked, laughed and smiled softly.

Then came the biggest problem.

Jason was too helpful.

You simply didn't know how to deal with someone who did so many acts of service. When he found out that banana pancakes were your favorite, he woke up early and cooked them. When you complained about that wood that was making noise in the living room, he fixed it immediately. Even when carrying your bag down the street, he would magically appear and hold it. Your coffee was always with those three drops of milk, just the way you liked it.

And when you tried to reciprocate, he seemed almost offended. Like the time you made a big meal, he was offended, you seemed tired from the effort and he didn't like that. Even when you cleaned his things he seemed irritated, you weren't supposed to do things for him.

After months of looking for ways to thank him for his helpfulness, you discovered it in an unusual way. Your room wasn't fully furnished, even months after moving in you were still buying furniture and needing to assemble it. Jason dismissed all the delivery people from the store and said he would assemble it himself, using the excuse that he didn't like strangers in his space.

"You spoil me," you joked with him, sitting on the floor as you watched Jason working on your new vanity. It wasn't a bad sight, Jason's large hands proving skillful and efficient, his t-shirt revealing his biceps that made you a little dizzy.

"I find doing manual labor relaxing." He replied, glancing at you and smiling slightly. You hummed in response, resting your chin on your knees and admiring Jason. You wanted so badly to find something to thank him for, something to show him that you were grateful for him.

When he finally finished the job, he stood up and held out his hand to help you. After gaining momentum, your hands instinctively went to his arm and gave it a squeeze.

"Thank you so much, Jay."

He was silent, you were silent. It seemed too intimate a touch, you were nervous, afraid he wouldn't like it, that he would ask you to never touch him again, which would be a shame because your hands could feel the heat of his skin. Then he smiled. He smiled, a dimple in his cheek.

"Nothing, princess."

After that, the touches became more frequent. Every time he did something adorable, you would touch his arms or his hand. Like the time he carried all your college books for meters and you held his hand in thanks (you stayed like that for longer than usual).

Another big step was when you arrived tired, from a horrible day, and you found Jason smiling shyly at you, the apartment smelling of your favorite food. As you washed dishes side by side, your hips touching, you lifted your feet and kissed his cheek, whispering a thank you. His reaction was adorable, his neck slightly red, his eyes blinking at you in a silly way that made you smile back.

So you continued, becoming a little bolder every time he did something to please you. It seemed impossible now to go back to the time when you didn't touch him, and you could swear he liked it. There were times when you could almost feel him sigh when your kiss on his cheek went all the way to his jaw.

When he came back from patrol, bruised and bleeding, he wouldn't let you help him. He would never dirty your soft hands with his blood. But he enjoyed it when you sat next to him, stroking his hair and talking to him in that calm tone, trying to make him relax with more pleasant conversations. A routine was established.

Jason was a little quiet sometimes. At first you thought he was grumpy and moody, but you soon discovered that he was just someone with poor social skills, and you managed to establish a way to show that you cared about each other.

"Hum, I stopped by the pharmacy, but your order had already been picked up." You jumped, startled by Jason's sudden arrival. For such a big guy, he had an impressive ability to be silent. Damn Batman training.

"Jay, hi." You greeted, as you leaned on the kitchen counter, casually scrolling through your phone. "Dick got it for me, he was just passing by."

He fell silent, making you look up from your phone to look at him. Jason's eyebrows were furrowed, his lips forming a frown.

"Why?" You blinked slowly.

"Why what?"

"Why Dick got it for you. I was going to get it for you." He looked almost... annoyed, frustrated that he hadn't gotten the product for you.

You blinked slowly again, tilting your head.

"He...was closer. I didn't mean to bother you."

He let out a huff, looking annoyed, like when a dog sees his owner reading a newspaper another dog brought.

"Jay?" You called out to him, almost shivering when his blue orbs stared at you.

"I'm the one who does your things. Why is that idiot Dick getting involved?"

"I don't want you to feel like you're my employee, that's all."

He huffed again, looking indignant. Another problem with Jason Todd: he didn't say what he was feeling, it was like trying to win the lottery with blurry numbers. Then he approached you, his posture looking like he was preparing to interrogate a criminal, his hands resting on the counter.

"Did you kiss him?"It certainly wasn't what you expected to hear. Your mouth fell open, your eyes wide.

"What?"

It was the only intelligent thing your lips formed.Jason still had that indignant look on his face, his blue eyes half-closed. He was too close and you felt a little cornered, the kitchen seemed small, the air harder to breathe. You stared back at him.

"Why do you think I kissed Dick?" You repeated, still that confused expression. You would be offended if your brain was working perfectly.

"You kiss me when I do favors for you!" He murmurs.

Oh. That was it.

You let out a breath, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

"Jason. Do you think I kiss the mailman every time he brings letters?"

"God, I hope not."

You both stay silent, your hands going to the hem of his shirt, unable to control yourself, squeezing it between your fingers, the weight of the unspoken words.

"Jay. You know...you don't have to do me favors to receive my affection, right?" You whispered, your eyes roaming all over his face, his beautiful features, his slightly crooked nose, his lips that looked so kissable.

"But I like it. I like taking care of you. Fuck, I want to take care of you always."

He himself seemed shocked by the intensity of the words, his eyes widening, his heart beating out of control, just like yours.

"Jay." You let out a breath, your hands rising to his face, caressing his cheekbones. You shivered when his hands held your hips, keeping you firmly against the counter. You didn't know what it would be like to kiss Jason, of course, you had already thought about it a lot, more than was healthy.

And when you finally pulled his face to you, pressing your lips, slightly chapped but still soft, against his. You dominated the kiss for a few seconds, being gentle as you held his face, but then something seemed to snap in Jason, he held you with impressive ease, pressing your hips against the counter and thrusting his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your soft moan. His hands were all over your body, hungry, as if he couldn't lose you.

"Only I can take care of you," he growled against your lips, his breathing heavy.

"Yes. yes," you said, caught in the haze of Jason's kisses, your eyes almost closing again.

"Good," he whispered, before kissing you again, fiercely, his hands gripping the back of your neck.

You were fine with this deal of favors in exchange for kisses.

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Inspired by a post I saw about Jason's love languages headcanon. Jaybean is just a guy who doesn't know how to show love in a normal way!!! But we love him anyway. I hope you liked it! I'm very happy to start posting things here, slowly gaining courage.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (24/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Furniture shopping is more exciting when there's talks about buying new stuff - like a bed.

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of smut), fluff, Kika is the bestest friend on this planet

Word Count: 3.4k

series masterlist

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A/N: hello loves! part twenty-four is here and I hope you enjoy it! feedback is appreciated!!!

The fact that Kika is just lying on your bed instead of snuggling up completely in your fluffy blanket is a miracle. 

"I liked the light blue mom jeans best," she says as you stand in front of the large mirror leaning against the wall next to the door to your room and look at yourself. "With the white oversized turtleneck - smash."

You look at her through the mirror. "Haha."

"I'm serious." She leans on her elbows and tilts her head. "If you wear white sneakers with it, it'll even work with the sandwich method. I've seen it on TikTok. And I swear to you - people will turn their heads to look at you."

"I don't want people turning their heads at me," you confess quietly, adjusting the soft fabric of your top. "I just want to look halfway okay."

"Trust me. You look more than okay."

After Kika and Pierre have stormed your apartment with their spare key - which at first annoyed you, but in the next moment made you feel quite relieved - your girlfriend has taken it upon herself to unpack your suitcase and pick out an outfit for you that matches your trip to the furniture store.

Unpacking your suitcase simply consisted of pulling out one item at a time and tossing it aside if it didn't meet her expectations. The pile of clothes next to the bed is the result of her search.

" Let it go," she warns you as you adjust the position of the hem of the sweater on your shoulder. "You look good. When I think about my first outfit as Pierre's girlfriend - it was pure horror."

"But I'm not a girlfriend," you reply as you reach for the jeans Kika is holding out to you. "I'm his friend. His roommate. Nothing more," you exhale, "and nothing less."

The Portugese woman watches you slip into your pants. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Caught off guard, you look at her. Are your feelings for the Monegasque so obvious that she can even see it on your face? Is your affection written all over your forehead? You can't name your emotional state, you can't say a word that could even begin to describe what you feel for Charles - but there's no question that it's definitely something other than pure friendship. 

No matter how often and vehemently you try to convince yourself that Charles is your friend, you are an incredibly bad liar. 

"I remember being incredibly nervous the first time we went out in public. I think I changed outfits three or four times before I was halfway happy."

Oh.

You sit down on the edge of the bed with her. "I want all of this. I want him." You clear your throat as Kika gives you a meaningful look. "His friendship, that is. And I'm also willing to take the risk of people not liking me and talking badly about me." You clasp your hands in your lap.

Kika sits up straight. "But?"

You curl your lips into a thin line. "I - I don't know." How do you explain to her that you're worried that his fans could dislike you so much that they doubt Charles? You're going public as friends, something that bothers you a little more than it should. But the Monegasque has also said that people will think what they want. 

What if they hate you so much - your looks, your mediocrity, your being - that Charles catches on and he realizes they're right in their opinion?

"I just want to make a good impression."

Your friend reaches for your hand. "You will. And after all, you're just friends. The public's opinion isn't all that important." You don't see her look, which says so much more than what she actually says.

"Right."

Kika lets go of your hand and stands up from the bed. "I'll be with you the whole time. We'll work it out. I promise." She tosses her long hair over her shoulder. "So, let's get going. This room is pretty bleak and could use some color," she says before pulling you off the bed and out of the room.

As you slip into your shoes at the front door, the men join you.

"So, Pierre and I are sitting -" Charles begins, but suddenly stops when he sees you. His eyes wander over your body and goose bumps spread along their path. He remains silent until Pierre nudges him. "Uhm, sorry. Yes. We - um - we're both going to sit in the front of the car because -" He scratches the back of his neck nervously, but can't take his eyes off you. "The plan is for Kika and you to go through the furniture store together and Pierre is coming with me. Just so that we are seen together as little as possible, but are still out and about together," he explains. 

You understand why this is all going to happen. He wants to protect you and you want to let him, but you can't stop your heart from getting a little bruised. 

When Kika notices your offended look, she crosses her arms in front of her chest. "So much planning for simple shopping with friends? Is that really necessary?"

As you look up from your shoes, you look straight into Charles' beautiful green eyes. Something that looks exactly like how you feel flickers across his face. "It is." He stands up straight. "Shall we?"

Kika smiles gently at you. "Let's liven this place up a bit, then." She grabs Pierre's hand and together the two of them walk out of the apartment towards the elevator, while Charles and you stay behind. You both look after them. 

"Is everything all right?" asks the Monegasque and stands next to you. 

"Everything's fine," you answer him curtly. You don't dare look at him. 

"Y/N," he says as he gently grasps your wrist and turns you towards him. "Mon amour, you know why I'm doing this, don't you?" His hand slips a little lower so your fingers can intertwine.

"'Mh-hmm." 

"Hey." His other hand rests gently against your cheek, making you look at him. "Hey." His thumb gently strokes your cheekbone. "I'm trying to protect you. That's my priority. Making sure you're okay is my priority. And if that means we can't walk through any stores next to each other for now, just so the public can get used to you, then I'll put up with it." His gaze twitches briefly to your mouth. "Even if it's not what I want."

You nuzzle your face against his warm hand. "And what do you want?" you ask softly. 

"You." 

His answer makes the blood sizzle in your veins. It feels as if the warmth of his skin is burning through your face, as if the nerve endings under your skin are sending little electric shocks through your muscles and forcing your heart to stop. You take a deep breath.

"I want you near me." He squeezes your hand twice before pulling away. Your skin feels cooler without his touch. "But I'm responsible for what happens in public. And I don't want to risk anything happening to you because of me."

You nod weakly before wordlessly following the befriended couple. You hear Charles behind you, but you don't wait for him as you walk quickly to the others. The atmosphere in the elevator is tense as you are transported towards the underground garage, but no one tries to ease the tension. Kika and Pierre look at each other a little uncertainly, something that doesn't escape your gaze, and you can't blame them. The situation is just awful.

Pierre has thought far ahead, because when he presses a button on his car key, a large SUV opens up in the underground parking garage, sure to fit some decorative items. Charles' Ferrari, or God forbid your old Renault, might have been able to fit a picture frame, or at most a small mirror. 

You sit behind Charles, who has taken a seat in the passenger seat. Kika and Pierre are talking through the rear-view mirror while you look out of the window.

The longer you think about what Charles said - or didn't say - the more uncomfortable you feel. The hem of the sweater seems to have slipped, the collar feels too tight and the sleeves are scratching your elbows. You're not sure what you were hoping for, what the right answer would have been. But you're not particularly happy with the one you got. 

You also want to be close to him, permanently. And you can also understand why the plan involves you staying away from each other inside the furniture store. But is that really necessary if you're just friends? Has he done something similar with his other female friends, or are you the only one who has to put up with this fuss? 

Your thoughts are going round and round in your head, but as if by magic they suddenly come to a standstill. But it's not magic, it's Charles' hand that has squeezed past his seat on the right and is now gripping your leg. You feel his fingers slide under the fabric of your jeans, where they rest against your calf. 

You try to regulate your breathing, but you can hear the blood pounding in your ears. Charles touching you is nothing new. You've been touching each other non-stop since last night, which doesn't help your feelings or your friendship, but it still feels indescribably good. 

It feels right the way his calloused hand wraps around your soft calf. It felt right the way his thumb stroked your cheek. It felt right to lie half-naked next to him in bed. 

It felt right to want him as something more. More than a roommate. More than a friend. 

And that's exactly why you slide your foot towards the car door, so that Charles can touch you more easily. You block out the voice that keeps whispering hypocrite to you as best you can. And the warmer his skin feels on yours, the tighter his fingers close around your calf, the better it works. 

"I'll let you both out right at the entrance and we'll park in the back of the parking lot," Pierre interrupts your thoughts before they're no longer PG. "You can go inside and we'll follow. That's the easiest way."

"Thank you very much," Charles says. "I'm sorry we're shamelessly taking advantage of you."

Pierre has to grin. "You're welcome to give me a position in Bahrain, then we'd be even."

"You'd have to get close to me on the track first."

The two men argue amicably until the car comes to a halt in front of the deserted entrance. Just as you are about to open the door, Charles's fingers gently squeeze your leg twice and you have to suppress a smile, otherwise Kika would tease you endlessly. As you both get out and the car drives away, she latches on to you. 

"Are you ready?" she asks as you walk towards the glass door together. 

"Definitely."

Kika has very good taste in decorating and if she hadn't become a model, she could definitely have worked at Ikea putting together those fake rooms. As you push a shopping cart in front of you, she skips through the aisles, grabbing anything that matches in color or style. Picture frames, vases, mirrors and fake plants that would look good on the windowsill in your room. 

She's examining which of the candles in front of her would go better with the vases in the shopping cart when your cell phone vibrates in your pocket. 

Charles: If one of the candles burns down our apartment, I'll have to charge you rent. 

Confused, you read the message before looking up and around. Charles is standing about twenty meters away from you, smiling at you over the shelves. You bite the inside of your cheek.

You: You don't need my money, Mr. Ferrari. After all, you make millions a year. 

You raise an eyebrow challengingly as Charles reads your message. You can see his grin clearly, even from this distance. 

Charles: If you burn down my expensive apartment, I'll have to find a new one, and they're not exactly cheap in Monaco, as you know. 

You: I thought it was our apartment?

Charles: If you let it burn down, you're welcome to keep it.

You: So you'd let me keep it? Our apartment?

Charles: I'd give you anything, mon amour. You just have to ask for it. 

You don't have time to think about his answer because Kika throws a stuffed animal dinosaur in your face. 

"Are you done flirting?" she asks, playing annoyed. "I'm trying to decorate your room and you'd rather flirt than help me."

You feel the blood rush to your face. "Excuse me?"

Her grin almost reaches your ears. "Gotcha."

"You can't possibly have caught me doing something I wasn't doing," you try to wriggle out of it, but Kika has bitten down like a little terrier.

"And why are you looking like you've eaten the last spoonful of tiramisu without asking if anyone else wants the rest?" 

"I haven't eaten any tiramisu," you defend yourself and hug the green stuffed animal tightly to your chest. 

"Not yet," she says gently and puts one of the candles in the cart with the rest. "But I'm afraid you could get diabetic if you're not careful with the tiramisu. A small piece is fine, but a double portion could almost be too much." 

You narrow your eyes. "I haven't eaten any tiramisu." Without taking your eyes off her, you put the green dino in the shopping cart too. "And I don't intend to."

"You're a bad liar," she says and stands next to you, wrapping her arms tightly around you. "But that's all right. I still love you. And when your room looks really cool soon, I'll take the outfit pictures for my Instagram in front of your mirror."

She gives you a peck on the cheek and you roll your eyes. "Charles was right. We need to change the locks, then you can't disturb us anymore."

"Disturb? Disturbing what? Eating tiramisu?" she grins and you would have loved to suffocate her with the green dino. Apparently Kika can read minds, because she quickly lets go of your arms and continues to skip happily through the corridors while you follow her with the shopping cart. 

"How much do you think the things you picked out for me cost?" you ask her as she picks out more plants.

She takes a look at the shopping cart. "Something between two hundred and five hundred euros," she replies with a shrug.

"Kika, that's too much. Way too much," you try to stop her as she walks over to the rugs on display. "I can't pay for it. I'm unemployed, remember?" You're about to turn the shopping cart around and return the selected items to their rightful places, but Kika stands in your way. 

"Charles offered to pay for this," she says, confused, resting her perfectly manicured hands on the metal grille of the cart. 

"He what?" you ask, looking around in the hope of spotting Charles somewhere. But he's nowhere to be seen.

"Pierre sent me a text message to leave the car at the checkouts when we're done. He said that Charles wanted to pay for it and that we should wait outside for them," she explains, tilting her head. "I thought he would have told you. I know you're unemployed, but because of the text message, I thought that - I assumed we could just pick out nice items without looking at the price."

You run your tongue over your teeth. "Give me a moment, please," you say briefly and leave her standing there with the shopping cart. 

You walk through every aisle, looking over every shelf in the hope of seeing Charles standing somewhere. And when, after ten minutes, you spot his brown curls in the furthest corner of the store, you don't care if the two of you are seen together. He's standing in front of a gray, hip-high box spring, with nice, dark bedding and comfortable-looking pillows placed on it. When you stop next to him, he doesn't look at you.

"I want to buy a new bed," he begins the conversation. "The one I have now is too low for me. What do you think of this one? I've tried it out. It's really comfortable and the perfect height for -" He falls silent before he can finish the sentence. 

"Kika says you want to pay for my things," you change the subject without answering his question. You don't take your eyes off the bed either. 

"That's correct."

"I don't want that," you say tersely. "I don't want you to pay for it."

"But I want to," he replies, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. "Think of it as a gift."

"As a gift?" You raise an eyebrow. "As a gift for what?"

"For your friendship."

"You can have my friendship without buying me new things," you assure him, but you fall on deaf ears. 

"But I want to. I have so much money that I can't spend on my own, so I want to buy you nice things." He leans a little towards you so that your hands touch. "How expensive are the things? One thousand, two thousand euros?"

"Kika says five hundred at most."

"Then think of it as a small, early Christmas present," he says gently. Before you can object, he continues. "I want you to feel comfortable and if it costs me some money, then so be it. And it won't hurt my bank account in the slightest. So just say thank you and accept the gift."

"Thank you," you whisper reluctantly, but you know that it wouldn't do any good to go against his wishes. "Did you find something you want to buy?"

He smiles. "This bed, apparently. And bedding. And a mirror."

"Doesn't sound bad. I just hope you have as good a taste as Kika. After all, our things have to match," you joke.

Charles turns his head in your direction. "Then lie down on the bed, mon amour. I'd like to see how you look on it before I spend thousands of euros on it." As he says it and his fingers curl around your wrist, that feeling blossoms in your chest again.

You want to throw him on the bed in front of you, kiss him until you can't breathe and touch him until you can see stars. You want to feel his warm skin under your fingertips, feel his muscles tense as he pulls you on top of him and presses you against his firm body. You want to feel his weight on you as he lays you down on the bed and his lips trail down from your mouth. You want to - 

"Do you really think I'm going to try sleeping without you again when we've figured out that we both sleep better when we're together?" he asks, gently stroking the thin skin on your wrist with his thumb. You hope he can't feel your racing pulse underneath. "When we first met, you said that you hadn't had a decent night's sleep in a long time. And if it means I have to hold you in my arms so you can get a good night's sleep, then so be it. And it's not as if I don't enjoy having you close to me."

Before you can answer him, you feel a person standing at your other side and when you look, Kika is standing there. Her gaze flickers briefly to your hands before she turns to the bed as well. "Do any of you fancy a bite to eat?" she asks. "There's a restaurant nearby that serves incredibly good tiramisu. And it's never busy. We can go there if you like." She turns slightly in your direction and nudges you. "What about you? Do you want some tiramisu?"

More like a need than a want.

[stone-stars]

Full thread from Sam on the SAG strike and Dropout!

[ID: A thread from Sam on twitter, as follows: "A thread about the strike and Dropout production: 👇✊. I stand in complete and utter solidarity with our striking performers. I myself am SAG-AFTRA, as are others on our executive team, having come from the world of working actors. I am nothing but sympathetic to their cause and outraged by the mafia-like behavior of the major streamers and AMPTP. It is harder than ever to make a living in this industry, and that goes even for the lucky few of us who get to work on meaningful projects.

In the meanwhile… 🤑 Uber-rich CEOs and shareholders are cashing in like never before 💸 Major streamers are gambling millions on dubious projects and business models 🍾 Hollywood is hiding profits and playing the victim while drinking champagne aboard their superyachts

Dropout production is right now on hold. Because we aren't associated with the AMPTP, it's possible we may be able to reach an interim agreement with SAG that allows us to continue to produce content during the strike.

But we'll only do that, obviously, if we get the blessing of the union and the buy-in of our performers. If not, we have enough content in the can to last us a little past the end of the year.

I pride myself in that Dropout has always paid above SAG minimums. As the years go on and the company is healthier, we will strive to do even better, and then even better still. Without the talent of our performers, we are zilch. Zero. Nothing."

Attached is an instagram post from an actor reading: "The Netflix show in question is shorter than a traditional half hour. But @ collegehumor and @ dropouttv paid me MORE than that for one of their scripted series. Dropout was a brand new online platform at the time and they still managed to pay their actors more than NETFLIX for scripted short form content."

Thread continues: "Public companies don't do this for the very simple reason that they feel more indebted to their executives and shareholders than they do their workforce. It's why corporations are so often exploitative. Our industry, because our jobs are so desirable, is especially vulnerable to exploitation. Hollywood takes advantage of that by making us feel generally commoditized, cheap, and replaceable …which is ironic given just how personal our work so often is. That's why unions - and the power of collective bargaining - is so important: because public companies often won't pay their workforce any more than they're forced to.

As for me, I intend to honor my union's position that I not promote SAG productions as a performer -- even if they are produced by me. That means that I won't personally be promoting any of our shows for the time being.

Attached is a screenshot of Sam on Discord responding to the question "given the strike… what picket line chant will you be rockin'?" with "i'm a talent / CEO! me says me has got to go!"

Thread continues: "This year, instead of running a FYC campaign for Game Changer, we donated $10k to the Entertainment Community Fund in solidarity with the WGA. Today, in solidarity with SAG-AFTRA, I'm personally matching that donation with another $10,000. If you have any disposable income, I encourage you to donate as well: https://entertainmentcommunity.org. And as soon as I test negative for COVID, I'll see you on the picket line. ✊"]

[starryal1na]

—❀ ‧₊˚. 𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒔 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅

genre: fluff, sfw

word count: 850

characters: aventurine, boothill, sunday, dr ratio

notes: this is just soft random thoughts i have about them and needed to write down, no theme in particular, dr ratio wearing glasses does things to me (*≧ω≦*), special thank to my irl friend charlotte (<3) for proofreading this ! divider credit to @/cafekitsune ♡

─ ⊹ ⊱ Aventurine ⊰ ⊹ ─

Owning himself plenty of jewelry, such as rings or expensive watches, it makes sense that Aventurine would want to gift his lover all kind of sumptuous pieces. Over the years, he has had you displayed with pearly necklaces, the shiniest earrings and even rings with precious gemstones. Undoubtedly you loved every single one of them. Each gift Aventurine has given you were meaningful to you, as a symbol of his deep affection for you. However, you must admit you have a favorite one. A gift from one of your anniversary that you adore more than anything. It might be the most classic piece of jewelry you own in term of appearance, but it holds a special place in your heart.

The gift is a bracelet, a thin gold chain gold with a small aventurine stone at its center. Beyond the fact that it is his stone, what's making this gift even more significant is that Aventurine has one as well. While you wear yours on your left, he wears his on his right wrist below his watch. He intented for the two of you to share matching bracelets you could wear daily and that was subtle enough only the two of you could really notice it through your other extravagant jewels. Since then, one glance at the aventurine bracelet on your wrist and your heart skips a beat ♡

─ ⊹ ⊱ Boothill ⊰ ⊹ ─

Every other day, Boothill finds himself mesmerized by the way you take care of your hair. Whether you brush it, braid it, decore it with accessories, he watches from afar with the softest glare. The one reserved for you, and you only.

Today is one of those where you've decided to use the cute ribbons you have recently purchased. Sitting confortably in front of your mirror, you feel Boothill's eyes on you as you display the cute accessories on the floor. "Which color do you think I should wear today ?" "Don't know, sugar. They'd all look fudgin' nice in your pretty hair" "That's very helpful thank you, baby". Boothill snickers, his attention splits between his gun he's been checking for a few mintues, and watch you clip a white and pink ribbon to the side of your head, securing a little braid. Fork, she looks so cute like this, he thinks to himself. Oblivious to your overheating cyborg boyfriend next to you, you finish your hairstyle and spin around with a "tadaaa !" only to find him dumbfounded and an adorable flush spreading on his cheeks. "Forkin' hell ! Got myself the prettiest gurl ain't I ?" Naturally, it ended with you pampering his face with kisses and he even lets you tie ribbons in his hair as well ♡

─ ⊹ ⊱ Sunday ⊰ ⊹ ─

Dearest Sunday was always a bit of a control freak, until he met you. Well he still is one but ever since you've become a couple, his controlling demeanour has somewhat softened. Your presence clearly helped him feel loved and needed, satisfying the yearn to be someone's special one. In the intimacy of your relationship, he has grown more laid-back, to the point of allowing you to touch his precious wings.

This has become one of your favorite ways to demonstrate your love, carefully and tenderly caressing his feathers. They're so delicate you often worry you'll hurt him, but it actually helps Sunday relax. "Do not worry, my angel. Think of it as a hug. It is warm and very comforting for me" he once reassured you. Afterwards, it became a routine for the two of you. Sunday coming home from an exhausting day, you helping him rest by gently stroking his pretty wings. You even make sure to rub the base, where the tiniest feathers are, and the contented sighs he releases reassure you that you’re doing a really good job ♡

─ ⊹ ⊱ Dr Ratio ⊰ ⊹ ─

Usually, when you look at Veritas, the words circulating in your mind are often along the lines of handsome, gorgeous, sexy, serious..... angry. However in the evening, it's different. Sitting in his favorite comfy chair, he pulls you onto his his lap and puts on his glasses to read. You're aware you should focus on your own book but those glasses perched on top of his nose are seriously distracting you. This time, your mind fills with nothing but cute cute cute cute cuuuute. Obviously, he feels your stare on him –of course he does– it's not like you're being subtle anyway. Still, he pretends to act oblivious until you're the one bringing it up.

As he turns a page of his book, you shift on his lap. "Come on. Say it." His tone is serious, yet playful. "You... Cute." You blurt out, immediatly covering your face to cover the prominent blush on your face. "Darling, have you lost your ability to form full sentences ?" His cocky smirk making your blush worsen, nuzzling your head on his neck to hide it. Smiling down at your pouting and flushed face, he returns his attention back to his book. Although you go back to reading as well, he knows you’re sneaking glances at him every so often ♡

/!\ don't steal, translate or repost this and claim it as you own /!\

[lumberrobot]

Summer's Serenity

kim minji x fem!reader

notes: long ahh summer jdojawjd

warning/s: ending is kind of ambiguous (idk, probs none)

genre: fluff

The first day of camp was supposed to be fun—exciting, even. But Y/N didn’t feel any of that. She sat in the back of the bus, arms crossed and earbuds in, pretending to be lost in the music. In truth, she couldn’t focus on anything except how much she didn’t want to be there.

This summer was supposed to be different. Y/N had planned to spend it with her friends, hanging out at the local café, catching up on shows, and maybe—even—getting a summer job to save up for something meaningful. Instead, her parents decided it would be “good for her” to get out of the house, to “experience nature,” and to meet new people at a camp in the middle of nowhere. So here she was, shipped off for two months like some sort of package that needed to be handled by someone else.

The bus bumped along the winding road, and Y/N sighed, glancing out the window at the trees whizzing past. The camp brochure had promised activities like canoeing, hiking, and bonfires—none of which excited her. She had never been the outdoorsy type. Give her a good book or a night out in the city, and she was content. But a whole summer surrounded by bugs, dirt, and people she didn’t know? That was a different story.

When the bus finally pulled into the campgrounds, Y/N braced herself. Camp Bunnies stretched before her—a sprawling patch of cabins, fields, and a lake that glittered in the afternoon sun. Kids her age spilled out of the bus, chatting excitedly as they lugged their bags toward the main cabin where registration was set up. Y/N hung back, dragging her feet as she approached the entrance.

“Hello! Welcome to Camp Bunnies!” One of the camp counselors, a tall, peppy woman with a clipboard, greeted her with far too much enthusiasm. “We’re so excited to have you.”

“Yeah… sure,” Y/N muttered, offering a half-hearted smile. She could already tell this place was going to be exhausting.

After registering and getting her cabin assignment, Y/N made her way to Cabin Four. Inside, it was as rustic as she’d imagined—wooden bunk beds, creaky floorboards, and the faint smell of pine. She threw her bag onto the bottom bunk and collapsed on the mattress, staring at the ceiling. Maybe if she stayed here long enough, no one would notice her absence from all the activities.

A soft knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. Y/N sat up just as the door creaked open, revealing another girl standing in the doorway. She had long black hair tucked behind her ears, dark eyes that sparkled with curiosity, and a soft smile that made her look approachable in a way that immediately set Y/N on edge.

“Hi, I’m Minji,” the girl introduced herself, stepping inside with her duffel bag slung over one shoulder. “Looks like we’re cabinmates.”

Y/N offered a tight nod. “Yeah. Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you.” Minji’s voice was cheerful, but not in the overly peppy way the counselors had been. She seemed genuine, just trying to be friendly, not force anything.

Y/N shifted awkwardly, unsure how to respond. She wasn’t in the mood to make friends, not now. She had resigned herself to spending the summer in solitude, waiting for the days to pass until she could go home. But Minji didn’t seem to notice her reluctance.

“You’ve been to summer camp before?” Minji asked as she started unpacking.

“No,” Y/N replied shortly. “First time. Probably last.”

Minji chuckled softly, sitting down on her bed and giving Y/N a curious look. “Not a fan of the outdoors?”

“Not really. This wasn’t my idea,” Y/N admitted, feeling a little more comfortable now that Minji wasn’t forcing small talk. “My parents thought it would be ‘good for me.’”

“I get that,” Minji said, nodding in understanding. “My parents think I need to ‘learn new skills’ and ‘get out more.’ So here I am.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem like you hate it as much as I do.”

Minji shrugged, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I try to make the best of things. It’s easier that way.”

Y/N didn’t say anything, but she noticed that Minji wasn’t like the other campers who seemed to thrive in this environment. She wasn’t loud or overly social, but there was something comforting about her presence. Maybe this summer wouldn’t be a complete disaster if they stuck together.

=======

Over the next few days, Y/N and Minji settled into a routine. Y/N remained hesitant, still holding onto the idea that she didn’t need to make any real connections here. She resisted the scheduled hikes and nature walks, and the team-building games that seemed to exhaust her more emotionally than physically. But each time she felt herself retreating into the familiar comfort of solitude, Minji was there, not pushing, but quietly bridging the gap between Y/N and the rest of the camp.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling archery session where Y/N's arrows missed the target entirely, she found herself sitting by the lake, feeling the cool breeze ruffle her hair. It was a secluded place, tucked away from the noise of the camp, with a clear view of the water. The distant sounds of laughter and chatter from the other campers faded as she focused on the rhythmic lapping of the water against the shore. She hadn’t even noticed Minji approach until the other girl sat down beside her.

“You looked like you were about to murder that target back there,” Minji said, a playful grin spreading across her face.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. “I hate archery.”

Minji nodded sagely. “Yeah, I could tell by the way you aimed at the ground three times in a row.”

Y/N chuckled, her tension easing a little. It was one of those subtle things Minji was good at—making her laugh, softening the edges of Y/N’s frustration without ever making her feel like she was being laughed at.

They sat in silence for a while, the sun beginning its slow descent toward the horizon. The air smelled fresh—a mixture of pine and water—and Y/N could feel the day’s warmth lingering in the gentle breeze. She didn’t mind the quiet—not when it was with Minji. There was something calming about her presence, like she didn’t need to fill every moment with words.

=======

One evening, after dinner, Y/N slipped away to her favorite spot by the lake, craving the quiet and calm after the day’s exhausting activities. Y/N sat on the edge of the dock, her legs dangling over the side, watching the ripples spread across the lake’s surface. The orange glow of the setting sun reflected off the water, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold.

She didn’t expect anyone to join her, but after a few minutes, she heard soft footsteps behind her. Turning slightly, she saw Minji approaching, a gentle smile on her face.

“Mind if I sit with you?” Minji asked, her voice quiet, as if she didn’t want to disturb the peace of the moment.

Y/N shook her head. “Go ahead.”

Minji sat down beside her, their shoulders almost touching as they both gazed out at the lake. For a while, neither of them spoke, content to just sit in silence, listening to the soft lapping of the water and the distant calls of birds.

“I get why you like it here,” Minji said softly after a while. “It’s peaceful.”

“Yeah,” Y/N agreed, her voice just as quiet. “It’s the only place where I feel like I can breathe.”

Minji hummed in response, and they lapsed into silence again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that felt like understanding, like the two of them were sharing something without the need for words.

Eventually, Minji spoke again. “You know, when I first came here, I didn’t think I’d enjoy it either. I thought it’d be boring, and I’d just be counting the days until I could go home.”

Y/N glanced at her, surprised. “You? But you seem like… you’re good at this. The whole camp thing.”

Minji laughed softly, shaking her head. “Not really. I just learned how to make the best of it as I said. But honestly, I didn’t start enjoying it until I met you.”

Y/N’s heart gave a small, unexpected flutter at Minji’s words, and she quickly looked away, staring out at the lake again. “I didn’t think I’d meet anyone I could connect with here,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “But… you’re different.”

Minji smiled, a warm, soft smile that made Y/N’s chest feel light. “I’m glad we found each other, then.”

They stayed by the lake until the sun had fully set, the sky fading into a deep, velvety blue dotted with stars. Eventually, they made their way back to the cabin, walking side by side in comfortable silence, the quiet of the night wrapping around them like a warm blanket.

=======

As the days passed, Y/N found herself looking forward to the quiet moments by the lake with Minji. They became a routine—an unspoken agreement that they’d meet there in the evenings, sharing conversations or just sitting in silence, watching the world go by.

The more they spent time together, the more Y/N found herself opening up. At first, it had been small things—stories about her friends back home, the summer plans she’d left behind, or complaints about the camp. But as the days turned into weeks, those small pieces turned into more personal ones. She shared her favorite books and the characters she loved most, the songs she listened to when she felt like the world was too loud, and her constant feeling of being out of place at camp, like she didn’t belong with the other campers who seemed to thrive in this environment.

Minji, in turn, shared her own stories. She told Y/N about her love for music—how it had always been a way for her to express herself when words failed. She talked about her family, her school, and how she often felt like she didn’t quite fit in, either. Despite how effortlessly Minji seemed to handle camp life, Y/N learned that Minji had her own moments of feeling like an outsider.

One night, after a particularly loud and lively campfire, they sneaked away from the group, retreating to their secluded spot by the lake. The faint flicker of the distant flames barely reached them, leaving the two of them wrapped in the gentle embrace of the night. Minji leaned back on her hands, her gaze fixed on the stars above, her dark eyes shimmering in the moonlight.

“You ever think about how small we are?” Minji’s voice was a soft murmur, like she was speaking a secret only meant for them.

Y/N followed her gaze, staring at the endless stretch of stars above them. “Like, in the universe?”

“Yeah. It’s kind of overwhelming, but also… freeing in a way. Like, all the things we worry about—they’re so small in the grand scheme of things.” Minji’s voice was thoughtful, soft, and Y/N found herself hanging on every word.

Y/N’s heart tightened as she listened, the quiet vulnerability in Minji’s words making her feel both comforted and exposed. “I never really thought about it that way,” she admitted. “But you’re right. It makes everything feel… lighter. Like nothing’s as heavy as it seems.”

Minji smiled, her eyes catching the faint starlight. “Exactly. It’s like, whatever happens, we’re just tiny specks in a vast universe. It doesn’t mean our problems don’t matter, but… it takes the pressure off, you know?”

Y/N nodded, though something in her chest tightened. She hadn’t expected to feel this way—not just about camp, but about Minji. The quiet moments they shared, the way Minji seemed to understand her without her having to explain herself—it was all new and unfamiliar.

“Exactly,” Minji whispered, her gaze lingering on Y/N for a moment longer. “It’s like, in the grand scheme of things, it’s okay if we don’t have all the answers. We’re just... small specks in a vast universe.”

Y/N’s breath caught as their eyes met, and for a moment, it felt like the world around them had disappeared. It was just them—the two of them, under a sky full of stars, sharing something that words couldn’t fully capture. A quiet intimacy hung between them, and Y/N felt a longing she hadn’t been prepared for.

As Y/N shifted slightly, her hand brushed against Minji’s, sending a small, unexpected jolt through her. Neither of them moved for a moment, the light touch lingering between them. Y/N glanced at Minji, who was gazing out at the water, a soft smile playing on her lips. She didn’t seem to notice—or maybe she did, and just didn’t mind. Either way, Y/N felt a strange comfort in the quiet connection.

=======

Weeks passed, and their bond deepened. Sometimes, they didn’t need to talk at all. They would just sit side by side, watching the water as the sun set, the comfortable silence between them speaking louder than words ever could. Y/N found herself growing more comfortable, more open, with each passing day. With Minji, it wasn’t about fitting in or pretending to be someone she wasn’t. For the first time that summer, Y/N felt like she could just be herself, and that was enough.

Y/N had stopped dreading every moment of camp. Minji made things bearable—and maybe even enjoyable. The quiet, understanding way Minji navigated camp life, avoiding the overly enthusiastic campers yet still managing to find joy, made Y/N rethink her attitude.

During one memorable evening at the campfire, as they roasted marshmallows alongside the other campers, Y/N glanced at Minji, who was laughing at something someone had said. The warm light from the fire flickered across Minji’s face, casting a halo of golden light around her, and in that moment, Y/N felt a shift. It wasn’t just that Minji had made camp bearable; she genuinely liked being around her—more than she had anticipated.

A warmth blossomed between them, one Y/N hadn’t felt in a long time. It enveloped her like the heat of the fire, igniting her heart with a longing that felt both exhilarating and daunting. She caught herself entranced by the way the firelight illuminated Minji’s features, the way it highlighted the delicate contours of her jaw and the playful glint in her eyes. Each laugh that bubbled up from Minji’s lips resonated deep within Y/N, creating a melody of joy that danced in the air around them.

As they sat side by side, roasting marshmallows and sharing whispered secrets, the gentle warmth of their closeness ignited a flutter of something new in her chest, a tender feeling that made her heart race and her breath hitch. The way Minji’s shoulder brushed against hers sent sparks through her skin, igniting a yearning that had lain dormant for too long.

As they walked back to the cabin in silence that night, Y/N felt a flutter of something new in her chest—something that scared her a little. She wasn’t sure if Minji felt the same, but the connection they had built over the summer was undeniable.

The summer stretched on, transforming what had begun as an unwanted obligation into something Y/N never expected: a season filled with connection, warmth, and perhaps even the beginning of something more between her and Minji. The camp hadn’t been the adventure she had wanted, but maybe it was the one she needed.

=======

On the final day of camp, Y/N found herself back on the bus, seated in her usual spot at the back, watching the scenery blur past the window. She hadn’t anticipated feeling this way—reluctant to leave, unsure of what came next. Camp had been the last thing she’d wanted, but now, with the bus pulling away, she found herself wishing for more time.

She pulled out her earbuds, ready to sink into her music and let the world disappear, when Minji appeared beside her, just as she had on the first day. This time, though, there was no hesitation in Minji’s smile.

“Mind if I sit here?” she asked, holding up her own pair of earbuds, a playful grin tugging at her lips.

Y/N glanced at the empty seat next to her and nodded, her heart thumping in her chest. “Go ahead.”

Minji slid into the seat, and instead of putting in her own earbuds, she leaned closer, her shoulder brushing against Y/N’s as she held out one of her earbuds. “Let’s share,” she said, her voice soft but filled with something deeper.

Y/N hesitated for a second, her mind racing, but then she took the earbud, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. They sat together, shoulders touching, as the music filled the space between them, and the bus rumbled down the road. The first day of camp had been marked by solitude, but now, as the summer came to a close, Y/N wasn’t alone anymore.

As they shared the music, the lyrics washing over them, Y/N’s heart swelled with the weight of everything unspoken between them. The summer had been unexpected, filled with moments she hadn’t anticipated—but sitting beside Minji now, their shared silence more meaningful than words, Y/N realized she wouldn’t trade any of it.

As the soft melodies filled the air, the world outside the window faded into a tapestry of lush green trees and shimmering lakes. The bus rolled away from Camp Bunnies, leaving behind the familiar cabins and laughter that had once felt so distant.

Y/N stole a glance at Minji, who was gazing out the window, the fading sunlight catching the highlights in her hair and illuminating her features with a warm glow. Their shoulders brushed lightly—a small but significant connection that sent a flutter through Y/N’s chest.

“Can you believe it’s over?” Minji mused, her voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the serene moment.

Y/N shook her head slowly, her heart swelling with a mix of nostalgia and warmth. “Not really. I thought I’d be counting down the days, but…” She paused, searching for the right words. “This summer turned out to be… different.”

Minji turned to her, and in that moment, something charged passed between them. The bus wound down the road, trees dancing in the breeze as the golden light began to fade, casting long shadows that intertwined like their stories.

“I didn’t expect to feel this way,” Minji admitted, her eyes holding Y/N’s gaze with an intensity that made Y/N’s heart race. “I thought I’d just be here for the experience, but I found something more.”

Y/N felt a swell of emotion as the realization struck her: she wasn’t leaving camp the same person she had been when she arrived. The summer that had once felt like a punishment had blossomed into something beautiful and unexpected—a connection that warmed her heart amidst the wilderness.

As the bus made its way home, the quiet hum of the engine accompanied their shared music, wrapping them in a cocoon of intimacy. Y/N knew that with Minji by her side, she wasn’t leaving alone. The road ahead was uncertain, but the bond they had forged under the open sky felt like a promise—an adventure waiting to unfold.

Minji glanced at her, as if reading her thoughts. “You know,” she said softly, her voice carrying a quiet certainty, “just because camp���s over doesn’t mean this has to end.”

Y/N turned to her, surprised by the confidence in her tone. “You think…?”

Minji nodded, her eyes warm and steady. “I know it will. We’ll figure it out—together. This is just the beginning.”

With the last rays of sunlight filtering through the trees, Y/N leaned slightly closer to Minji, feeling the warmth radiate between them. The shared earbuds, their shoulders brushing, created a delicate space that felt alive with possibility. The summer that had once felt like a punishment had turned into something completely unexpected. Instead of the isolation she had felt on the way there, Y/N now felt a quiet warmth next to her—something that made her realize she wasn’t leaving camp the same person she had been when she arrived.

And with Minji by her side, Y/N wasn’t leaving alone.

[meggtheegg]

FNAF Movie Theory...

I'm pretty sure there's still one major plot twist in the universe of the movie that's been set up for a sequel but hasn't actually happened yet. Heavy spoilers under the cut:

After watching the movie in theaters and then revisiting a few scenes on Peacock, I'm still kind of convinced that Mike Schmidt is Michael Afton.

Here's my reasoning. A lot of the characters spend time acting like they know something the audience/other characters don't, and those things are...mostly resolved. But some of them just...kind of aren't.

The main thing that sticks out to me is William's whole storyline. Starting with the scene where he offers Mike the job, his behavior is almost explained by the movie's logic. He sees Mike's name, seems...kind of deeply upset, looks at him very closely, stands to get coffee, and has a moment of visible internal conflict. Then he instantly offers him the Freddy's job. The way the movie frames this, it seems to be saying that he recognized the name of one of his victims, realized this was the kid's brother, and decided to kill him right then and there. Which is passable as an explanation, but it has a lot of holes, if you look deeper.

Why would William so instantly recognize a fairly common last name as the brother of some kid he killed that wasn't even anywhere near Freddy's? Why did he kidnap/kill Garrett in the first place, in some random forest in Nebraska? Why did he see the name on the file, then immediately stop and examine Mike's face so closely, when Mike's memories/dreams pretty clearly show that they never saw each others' faces when Garrett was taken? Why did he send Vanessa to "keep Mike in the dark" if he purposely gave him the job to get him killed? Why not have the animatronics kill him right away? He didn't know that Mike was searching for the man who took his brother, and while he could have maybe guessed he was still actively haunted by what happened based on Mike beating up a guy that he thought was kidnapping someone, it still feels like a weird choice to go and hire him, then just have him do the job with no issue for a few days.

As for Vanessa, we see that she's been cleaning up William's messes for years. Why is Mike the one she changes her mind and stands up to her father for? There's no implied romance between the two and no particularly meaningful connection beyond them both having family issues. I guess she cares about Abby because she's a kid, but kids getting hurt clearly never stopped her from helping her father before.

And, on a more meta level, this is Scott and his storytelling style we're talking about. The man puts plot twists inside of plot twists and everything always ties back into the Aftons, somehow.

So, here's my theory: I think that Mike is William's kid, but Mike's mom left Afton when he was young and remarried the man that Mike thinks is his father.

It seems convoluted and maybe cliche, but if it's true, then suddenly there's an answer to all of those questions. "Michael Schmidt" isn't exactly an eye-catching name, unless you had a kid named Michael and your ex-wife married a guy with the last name Schmidt. Garrett's kidnapping, then, becomes an act of intentional, petty revenge rather than an extremely random coincidence. Giving Mike the job and sending in Vanessa suddenly becomes about piecing together how much he knows and figuring out if he's worth trying to reconnect with or is just a threat that needs to be killed. (It feels worth noting that William is as far as I can remember the only person to call him Michael in the whole film. He also very pointedly never says "Schmidt" until he's decided to kill Mike and suddenly announces his full name out loud. If he went by Michael as a little kid, that is what William would default to calling him, but if he took the new husband's last name, that would be like like salt in the wound that he wouldn't want to voice. By finally saying it out loud, it feels like he's making the decision to fully separate himself from Mike.)

As for Vanessa, if Mike is her brother, it makes sense that he would be the person she'd turn against William to save. It would be weird for her not to tell him, but she could also be trying to protect him, in some way. There's never any mention of her mother, and it seems like it's just been her and William for a long time. Also, ending the movie with her in a coma feels like a strange narrative choice, but it makes sense if she knows information that's purposely being kept hidden for the sequel.

Of course, it could just be that the movie has kind of messy writing and I'm trying to fix it because I want there to be a deeper reason for it. Maybe there is no Michael Afton in the movies, or maybe he's off chilling and doing his own thing somewhere and we'll see him in the sequel. Only time will tell.

[yandere-daydreams]

hi. so this is kind of a random musing that doesn't have anything to do with what youve been talking abt on your blog recently so feel free to ignore it, but i love how you write yandere nanami and between going live and an ask one of my followers sent me i kinda had a revelation. i wanted to see if you had any thoughts.

i think that before meeting reader nanami would be a virgin.

even if were talking non yandere nanami, i don't think he's ever had sex. i can't see nanami being the kind of person who likes hookup culture - he doesn't want to be used by someone - but i don't think he'd be able to justify getting in a romantic relationship because his job is so dangerous. he wouldn't want to die one day and leave his partner widowed. so he stays celibate, he's come to terms with the fact that he'll die untouched.

(he just jerks himself to freaky ass porn to get his fix (maybe even a camgirl hehe))

at least, until he meets a woman who makes all of his morality fly out the window.

suddenly, his sex drive is higher then ever. he's cumming into his fist every night to the thought of this special girl doing abhorrent things on his dick. he loves her. he's never loved someone this much in his entire life so she has to be the one to deflower him. that's probably one of the most romantic things someone can do in his mind, so it has to be her. she's his soulmate

all of this to say, i think nanami would kidnap reader and force her to teach him how to have sex through some fucked up means. it just tickles something in me imagining how stupidly giddy he'd be, so unabashedly pathetic as he undresses a woman for the first time.

like, him holding her hand with his forehead pressed to hers, cumming inside of her, jumping through as many mental hurdles necessary to justify what he's doing (or maybe just not caring bc she'll come around eventually, right?)

i love your work. thank you for listening to my ramble. <3

tw - non/con, kidnapping, manipulation, delusional behavior.

no no no i agree entirely,,, no amount of propaganda can convince me that any of the jjk men every had their dicks touched before the age of twenty-five at least, with nanami probably being the worst offender among them. i mean, he doesn't really connect with people outside of the sorcerer world, not really, not in a meaningful enough way to lead to that kind of intimacy, and as for other sorcerers... no. just no. he'd rather die a virgin than resort to anything as desperate as that, which is quickly becoming a very tangible reality.

and then he meets you (or, alternative, stumbled onto your stream at some ungodly hour, his cock already in his hand and his pleasure-deprived brain frantic for something soft and pliable to latch onto), and he decides that it might not be so bad to consider alternatives after all.

i can see it going one of two ways: if he has any reason at all to believe that you're also a virgin, whether or not it's true, he'll immediately lose all patience. if that wasn't the case, he might be able to take his time, stalk you for a few months before consummating your blooming relationship, but now he's on a clock, now he has to get to you before someone else does. he still tries to make it romantic, lights candles and brings you flowers and all that, but he's rushed, panicked, babbling incoherently about 'being each other's firsts' as he haphazardly undresses you. it's a miracle he remembers to do any prep at all - he's just in such a rush to be inside of you, to be the first and only person to every know what it's like to fully, genuinely actually be with you. if there's any pain, he'll comfort you later, make up for two and a half decades of abstinence with his tongue and hands, but only after he's already ruined you for anyone else.

if you're not a virgin and he can't make himself believe you are, then he'd probably go a little less absolutely feral (at first, i mean). don't get me wrong, you're still getting kidnapped asap, but rather than a beacon of innocence and purity that he can taint, you're the corruption forcing him to fall from grace, and he's going to want you to act like it. he's got a list of virginities he needs to to take (his first handjob, his fist blowjob, the first hickey, etc.), and between every milestone, he's going to want you to teach him how to pleasure you, even if you're still insisting you'd rather not let him touch you at all. he wants your full participation - it doesn't matter how many times he makes you cum on his tongue while you're sobbing into your pillow and trying to block him out, he's not going to stop until he hears your sweet voice encouraging with the little 'right there, kento's and 'good boy's he's made you rehearse. by the time you actually take his virginity, he's going to have made you feel dirtier than you ever could've made him feel, but so long as he's the one you're feeling dirty with, nanami doesn't really mind. not when he's buried inside you, his chest pressed into yours and he's too lost in his own pleasure to think the tears staining your cheeks are anything but beautiful.

anyway loser virgin nanami you will live forever. perhaps loser virgin gojo will pay for his crimes next.

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"Like a roller coaster.” Daryl Dixon Imagine.

Marriages always have their ups and downs like a roller coaster. Even in the midst of an apocalypse, Daryl and you play a game until the situation gets a little out of control, but in the end, the only thing you two are sure about is that you have each other to keep living.

Based on the Beth and Daryl episode at the cabin.

Warning: Daryl being kind of a jerk, but don't be mad at him, because he's like a puppy that's been mistreated T-T I'm not trying to justify his behavior, but this is fiction and we all know Daryl's personality and insecurities. (Sorry if I didn't play this never have I ever game well, I don't know well how it works in English, and English is not my native language.)

Request are open! Hope you like this! Thank you♥

You knew Daryl long before the dead came back to life.

He was a young man working for the owner of a motorcycle repair shop: the pay was kind of bad, but good enough to get by. You were the child of a police officer, the typical sheltered (but down-to-earth) young person, just trying to make your life meaningful. Your older brother used to take you with him to get his bike repaired, and the rest of how you two met was history.

It was a good two and a half years, with a few petty arguments, and a ring hidden in the back of his drawer that he never gave you. But the day he broke up with you, he did it through his own pain, through his mistaken idea that he wasn’t enough for you, that the life he could offer you wasn’t the one you deserved, so that day, Daryl let you go. It would be a lie to say it was easy for him, because for the next 5 months, Daryl did nothing but come to see you almost every night, just to see that you got home safely from your job as a vet.

6 months later, the apocalypse began.

Daryl tried to find you, but your house was a mess, and there was no sign of you, so he and his brother left town. The day you two met again, his group had entered a pharmacy to get medicine for the people in the prison, and with your gun pointed at his head from behind, ordering him to put down his crossbow, Daryl recognized your voice after having dreamed about it every night.

Again, the rest was history.

Now, sitting in that old chair with your elbows on the table inside that dirty little cabin, the deep words of the book you had in front of you talking about marriage caught your attention as you watched the ring on your finger. The golden color remained. You two were married and everything was going well (in that new world).

“Somethin’s wrong with yer ring?” Daryl closed the door of the cabin holding a box with glass jars, and he walked to the table and set the box on top of it. “So?”

“No.” You said sincerely and looked at the box. “Tell me that’s water.”

Daryl chuckled and sat down in the chair in front of you on the other side of the table.

“No, woman. I found ‘em in the shed, they were very well hidden. Ya never heard of moonshine?”

“I only know beer.” You leaned against the back of the chair. “Does it taste just as bad?”

Daryl regarded you with malice.

“Tastes a lot worse. Wanna try it?”

“All right.” You shrugged. Daryl knew what was to come, but he still took an empty glass jar and filled it a little with that liquid that looked harmless and misleading. You took it and raised it to smell the strong sense that made your nose wrinkle in disgust. “Cheers.”

You took a sip holding your breath and the liquid slid down your tongue, your throat and finally all the way down, heating everything on the way to your stomach. You grimaced and left the glass jar on the table while you breathed again.

Daryl chuckled.

“How was it?”

The strong heat ran through your entire body making you feel a tickle in your stomach.

“It tastes awful, and I feel a strange heat in parts of my body.”

Daryl smiled slightly, rubbing his finger against his lower lip.

“Tell me if ya feel that heat in the part of your body in which I’m thinkin’ about, maybe I can help ya get rid of it.”

You laughed.

A drink of that liqueur and you already felt your cheeks red and the fire in your body. You tolerated alcohol well, kind of, but the first sip was always something shocking until your body became accustomed to it.

That’s when a funny memory popped into your mind.

“Do you want to play a game? We can use this poison as punishment.”

Daryl looked at you curiously and rested his elbows on the table.

“What kind of game?”

“Well… I say something I have never done, and if you have, you drink, and if you have not, I drink. Then we chang… What?”

His curious look didn’t change because the rules of the game made him wonder how many times you had played it. where, apparently, the liquor seemed to be mandatory.

“Ya played this many times?”

“I never liked liquor, it burns and it tastes bitter, but the game was fun in those days.” You cocked your head. “Should we play or not?”

His blue eyes held your gaze, without a particular expression on his face, but he pulled out two full jars, opened them and handed you one.

“Start.”

“Okay…” You bit your lips as you thought. “Never I have ever tried anything to make you feel attracted to me.”

Daryl chuckled.

“It wasn’t necessary. Ya got me in a second.” He drank the liquor and set it down on the table to look at you. “Never I have ever regretted marryin’ ya.”

He stared at you, cause sometimes he kept thinking that.

“Drink.” You said, pretending to be serious, but he smiled anyways. “Never I have ever had a bad allergic reaction for falling into poisonous ivy.”

“I don’t like this game.” He grunted because he was still losing, and drank from the jar. “Never I have ever kissed ma best friend in the mouth.”

“Oh, come on!” You complained. “I was 6 years old and his mom and mom made me do it.”

“Everythin’ counts, sunshine.” He chuckled. “Drink.”

You drank from the jar and grimaced.

“Never I have ever had a bad grade in elementary school.” You laughed. Daryl snorted because you used the history of his problems to learn mathematics against him, but he had to drink. “Oh, sweet revenge.”

“Be careful, woman.” He raised his eyebrows to warn of the consequences but you only shrugged. “Never I have ever fallen in love with ma high school teacher.”

You chuckled.

“I will not deny it. He was really handsome. And I hope he is still alive.” You bit your lip over the memory, but Daryl grunted because like any husband, he didn’t like you talking about other men. “Never I have ever rented a porn movie.”

Daryl licked his lip but drank.

“If we talk ‘bout sex this game will be more interestin’.”

Again, he rubbed his finger against his lip, thinking what would be the best memory among you to use it.

“Never I have ever had to wear a scarf to cover a hickey.”

“It was not a scarf.” You wrinkled your nose at him but you drank. “Never I have ever eaten animal food.”

Daryl chuckled and he drank.

“Never I have ever played Strip poker.”

Your heart beat fast suddenly, and you didn’t know if drinking was the right thing to do. You were ashamed of that memory, so ashamed you never told him about it. But he knew, your eyes as transparent as crystals were easy to read.

“What?” He frowned. “Ya undressed in front of another man, darlin’?”

You blinked at him.

“It’s not what you’re thinking. I didn’t even get to-”

“What?” He leaned forward abruptly and you saw in his eyes that he was intoxicated by the alcohol. “Ya didn’t show yer breasts to another asshole than me?”

“Daryl, no-”

But Daryl got up pushing the chair back and taking the jar.

“I’m gonna take a piss.” He walked to the door a few steps behind him. The heat of the alcohol ran down his body and he dropped the jar to remove his belt. The glass broke on the floor, and it made a sharp noise that made you startle.

“Daryl-”

“I can’t hear ya!” He cut you off. “I’m takin’ a piss!”

“Please, we have to be quiet.” You said softly.

“Or what?!”

He was an asshole when he was drunk, his words, not yours. But his immature reaction made your body fell on the back of the chair.

“It was during the time I wanted to be accepted, okay? And I just took off my sweater before I realized I was being stupid and left it.”

“Oh yeah? And what else ya almost did?” He walked back to the table as he pulled up the closure of his pants, but didn’t sit down. “I thought I married a decent princess but I see yer more than that. I’ve never played strip poker. I’ve never drove a nice car like you. I didn’t have a dad to give me everythin’ I wanted!” Daryl pushed the chair and fell with another big noise against the wood. “I didn’t have a family that gave me everything I ask for!”

Suddenly, the growl of a walker caught your attention.

“We got another guest in this game!” Daryl walked to the couch behind you, he grabbed his crossbow and pointed at you with a finger. “Ya never shot a crossbow because I always protected yer ass, but I’m gonna teach ya a lesson right now.”

Daryl walked over to you and took you by the wrist, his grip tightening around it as he pulled you back into the living room and kicked the door open. That was a lie, you and he knew it: you had protected yourself, your friends, for a time without him, thanks to the shooting lessons your grandpa gave you.

But he made you walk down the wooden steps of the cabin and you surrounded it until you met the walker coming out of the bushes. Daryl lifted his crossbow and shot it right in the chest. The arrow pierced its rotten body and slammed it into the tree, but it never stopped groaned as Daryl prepared the crossbow again.

“I’ll teach ya how to shoot, honey. It is easy. Come here.” Daryl held you from behind and put an arm around you. The other hand held the crossbow. “Take it. Just point and shoot.”

Emotions were overflowing and you tried to take it but he fired first, failing on purpose. Your heart was as tight as a fist, and as he prepared the crossbow again, you took your knife out and walked to the walker to sink it into its skull. The rotten blood spilled out of it and you walked away in disgust.

“Hey! Why the hell did ya do that?! We were just havin’ fun!”

You gasped because the air didn’t seem to reach your body, because for a moment, his irresponsibility frightened you. You turned to him as he frowned at you. Your breathing was shaken as if you had run for hours, and the heat on your cheeks due to the alcohol intensified because of the frustration you felt.

“Don’t do anything like that again, Daryl.” You sounded firm even though you were breathing deeply. “What the hell is wrong with you? Playing with them is not fun. Risking your life is not fun either.”

“Don’t ya like this game?” Daryl approached you. “Ya like strip poker and I like to play with ‘em. What’s the problem?”

You opened your mouth to speak, to say something cold and cruel that would only make things worse. But you weren’t like that, and neither was he. His personality was explosive but he wasn’t negligent with your life or his.

“What is your problem?” You asked in a calm voice, totally opposite to the euphoria caused by the screams. “Daryl… you’re not like that. And honestly, you’re scaring me right now.”

It was then that he realized the fear in your eyes, for the first time in his life. He would never hurt you, he would die first.

“Don’t. Don’t do that…” He shook his head, walking slowly back to walk away. “Don’t ya dare to use those damn angel eyes with me! Ya like to do that, don’t ya? Play with me. Make me love ya and then…” He stopped, his gaze lost on a spot on the ground as his hair covered part of his eyes. “Then somethin’ could happen to ya. I’m so helpless I can’t protect ya always and if I lose ya…” Daryl swallowed the lump in his throat. He threw the crossbow to the ground and turned to cover his watery eyes. “Then I'll be less than nothin’.”

Your chest fell as you exhaled, realizing the fear in him. You walked towards him, watching the wings on his vest, and you wrapped your arms around his waist. The heat of your body startled him, but it confirmed that you were there with him.

“I’m afraid of losin’ ya.” His voice struggled not to break. “I’m afraid to keep losin’. I can’t lose our people or ya. I can’t live without ya.”

Any of you could die if you two weren’t careful, and you didn’t want to lie to him by telling him that nothing would happen to you.

“I’m here now, Daryl. That’s all that matters. I know I can protect myself but I also know you will. And I hope you know that I… will always try to protect you too. We are strong together. Okay? Hey… just turn around.”

You separated from him, and waited, until he turned to you with his gaze still on the ground. His strength didn’t last long when he saw you there, still alive, and he sobbed again. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he instantly clung to you as if his life depended on it. You wanted to return to the life you two had before that world, but it was impossible now. The cold reality clung to you two, but the bravery in your hearts would keep you both alive and warm, so you knew, that everything would be alright after all.

[cyb3rtarot]

Pick a Pile: Message From Your Inner Child + How You Can Nurture Them

Disclaimers: choose the pile you feel intuitively drawn to; you can choose more than one! Take what already resonates and leave anything confusing or stressful. Readings are not replacements for professional advice. I used a mix of tarot, oracle, and my intuition.

pile 1->pile 2

pile 3->pile 4

░░░

Pile 1

Message [Justice||nine of hearts rx, king of pentacles, nine of wands rx, three of pentacles rx]: hi pile one! Your inner child wants to express feelings of dissatisfaction or being stifled. Many of you are in a good place financially/with work, at least compared to where you used to be. This came from working very hard without much support from others—maybe even being hindered by others. Other people might look at your life and wish they had it, but your inner child does not seem fulfilled by whatever your position is. I don’t sense ungratefulness, but it does seem like your inner child is more interested in something “deeper” or more meaningful than your physical reality is providing. If you’ve had to claw your way out of hard situations, your inner child seems to be looking for some kind of justice or retribution regarding that. You may feel like you deserve more happiness after what you’ve had to go through, or want people who have done you wrong to be punished.

How you can nurture your inner child [the fool, the emperor, king of pentacles rx, three of swords rx]: a more proactive approach to finding meaning and happiness in your life will nurture your inner child. You might be used to going with the flow—especially if you’re materially comfortable or seeking such a lifestyle. Remember that you have the power to initiate new beginnings; you don’t have to stay the same! Give your inner child space to grow and discover what feels right to them, even if it doesn’t make sense to others. Don’t force yourself to remain in an unhappy spot when there are changes within your grasp. Uncertainty is a necessary part of life. There’s also a big emphasis on balancing your work for outer stability with this search for inner happiness; perhaps some of you unnecessarily overwork yourselves which leaves little time for other things. 

For some, this soul searching may involve letting go of past hurts. I’m not trying to force you to forgive others, but to identify how your current reality has formed as a response to pain, and how you can choose to respond differently.

Extra details: isolation, loneliness. Past betrayals and enemies. Being “self made,” supporting oneself. Not being seen and understood, wearing a facade/mask. Music as solace, singing, pop stars (Ariana Grande again lol?). Balance. Being the tough kid, defending yourself. Paying your own way through school. Aggressiveness. Continuous conflict with colleagues or family, unhappiness at work. Wanting to leave a “good” job, or wanting to “run away” (some of you may be daydreaming about “drastic” action, like suddenly quitting and going on a long trip, far away from everyone you know).

░░░

Pile 2

Message [the star rx, seven of wands rx|| nine of swords, the star, four of pentacles rx]: hi pile two! There is a lot of past hurt and trauma in this pile, and your inner child is highly encouraging healing/shadow work. Your inner child is wanting you to lower some of those internal walls so those uncomfortable emotions and memories can be processed. If you feel you need someone like a professional to help you, that is absolutely okay. Healing is hard, trauma is messy, and the “despair” in this pile seems particularly heavy.

How you can nurture your inner child [two of hearts, the tower rx, queen of pentacles rx, the lovers, six of cups rx]: a major focus for your healing journey is examining how past hurts—especially in relationships or childhood—are projected onto present day relationships. You may have developed certain traits or behaviors to survive the past, but now they block you from experiencing the intimacy your inner child craves. This is not to say you should compromise boundaries, but know that intimacy and vulnerability themselves are not the enemy. Thinking or acting like they are can even be a way of self-blaming, as if you not needing love would have prevented others from being toxic or abusers. Examine how past patterns can lead to current self-sabotaging, and also give yourself grace if you feel like you made a mistake. Learning how to navigate relationships of any kind is hard, and trauma can make it harder! Know your inner insecurities are not reflective of the relationship, how others see you, or the truth. If you do wish to work on some aspect of yourself or your healing journey, it’s very much within your capacity.

Extra details: fruit is significant, maybe nostalgic memories of someone cutting or giving you fruit growing up? A house with a tile or distinctive roof, roof decorations. The quiet/shy kid. Feeling like you’re falling apart. Clumsiness. Alone. A lot of yelling and hurtful words (particularly in the past). Childhood or domestic trauma. Catastrophizing. I feel like a lot of you are in a romantic relationship that is triggering anxiety. Practicing healthy communication with your partner may be one part of the healing work mentioned above. I also feel like a lot of you jumped from a very toxic home into a very toxic relationship as you came of age; a current relationship may be difficult due to this pattern that developed.

░░░

Pile 3

Message [ the hermit, the fool rx|| Queen of cups, the chariot, justice rx, ten of pentacles rx, the hanged man rx, the tower]: hi pile 3, your inner child had a lot to say! You might repress them a lot. They want you to know you are living with old mindsets and approaches that are no longer aligned with you. You have a very large inner, emotional world and self awareness, but you don’t let this shine through to the outside. There’s a big nihilistic vibe of just going through the motions and accepting your lot—even when you’re miserable—and even when there’s changes you can make. An imbalance exists between the energy directed towards your mind versus the outside world. There’s a sense of solitude and a “what’s the point?” approach. However, there’s also a sense of restlessness. Your inner child is feeling stifled by this lifestyle; they want to come out and experience enthusiasm! It seems major changes are present or coming in where this can be addressed.

How you can nurture your inner child [the lovers rx, king of swords, knight of wands rx, the emperor rx]: your inner child is encouraging you to embrace excitement for life. It feels like your nihilistic or apathetic approach functions as self-punishment by denying your desires. You’re aware of which things are not working for you anymore, but you’re avoiding tough conversations or decisions. Your inner child wants to break free and to go after what gives them joy; they do not want their emotions to be judged, repressed, or punished. Some of the self awareness you’ve developed in your inner world can be used to help navigate the disappointments and uncertainties of life. You have to wade past these things to reach the treasures in your journey.

Extra details: restlessness, emo (some of you were in middle school), quiet, hurting, simmering anger, Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day, taking an analytical approach to emotions, singing, not being allowed to express emotions growing up. You might say “perhaps” a lot. Water, wanting to live in or visit a location close to water.

░░░

Pile 4

Message [seven of wands rx, king of hearts, the hermit, strength rx, queen of swords|| queen of pentacles, queen of cups rx, five of cups rx, death rx]: hello pile four! The focus of your message is healing vulnerability. You guys have had to be strong by yourself for a long time. For those working on spirituality, it feels like that was the focus of this period. This “hardened” time can come to a close and give way to a new era where you’re more able to face feelings and express them authentically. Your inner child is pointing to a past experience (or multiple) you can revisit to do healing work. This may be a very disappointing heartbreak in a past relationship (of any kind). You might have had to end it with someone who was very attached to you and make that first “hurtful” move so you both could move on and heal. Or, you became disillusioned from lack of emotional fulfillment. Most of you have already done a lot of healing/shadow work and reached a more stable place with your inner sense of security. But, there’s difficulty translating this into being vulnerable with others. Due to the amount of emotional work you had to do, you’re leaning into logic and practicality when there needs to be a balance with emotion. Maybe you can easily identify and scrutinize emotions, but you default to this mental approach to avoid actually feeling it or confronting what you’ve repressed—especially if others’ reactions to your emotions have been disappointing. Protecting yourself is necessary and so is analyzing emotion. But sometimes feelings just need to pass through! We can only “think” our way so far into understanding life lessons. Vulnerability with ourselves—and knowing healthy ways to be vulnerable with others—are both healing.

How you can nurture your inner child [the hierophant rx, king of wands, princess of wands, page of cups rx, the devil rx]: you’ve done a lot of  self-discovery and learning lessons on purpose. This has made space for beautiful growth—however, there’s an emphasis on being open to developing with other people, too. You may want to continue working on yourself in isolation, but some growth and self-knowledge can only be discovered through others. You may repress your inner child’s desire for connection—forcing yourself to be independent. This seems comfortable for you, but not necessarily fulfilling. You may not know where to start with allowing others inside your world. This pile is stuck in the middle of not wanting to deal with toxic BS and yearning for something new + authentic. You may really have to push yourself to leave your comfort zone when it comes to others, and remember that your past experiences don’t define every experience you could have. I’m not suggesting to do things that feel wrong to you, but I am suggesting to notice where you squash your curiosity towards others as a defense mechanism. If you remain true to the things you’ve learned during this time, you’ll be much more adept at spotting insincere people and setting boundaries. And, you’ll be equipped for the inevitable challenges that occur when we get closer to others. These aren’t necessarily bad challenges, but for someone who has learned to love being alone, the metaphorical social “dance” can seem daunting. People are lessons, but not everyone is going to be a hard lesson.

Extra details [TW abuse, self harm, suicide mention]: using spirituality as a reason to not feel (example, not letting yourself feel disappointed because “that’s how it was meant to be”), likes to rhyme or make puns a lot, tendency towards being nonchalant/apathetic, trying to “think” emotions away, not knowing how to stop being so independent. Spiritual, wise, eccentric/enigmatic, self-assured. “Nice” relationships but very few “deep” relationships. Wanting to be friendly but getting alarmed when someone want to be friendly back lol. May have been in a relationship with a very imbalanced power dynamic; someone may have had the power to punish you? In & out the hospital as a child or a very big medical incident. Working in medical (specifically getting nursing) or as a coach, trainer. Surgeries & surgical scars (especially emergency surgery to save your life), medical implants & devices, physically disabled. SH scars. Past attempt on one’s life. Unwilling to feel emotion in fear of getting swept away by them. Stoic on the outside, emotional inside. Always trying to “solve” your emotions

░░░

[shinidamachu]

Do you think Kikyo should’ve been nicer to Kagome and thanked her for all those times she saved her? Some of the fandom even thinks she owed her Spiritual training as well, what do you think?

To me, the thing about Kagome and Kikyo's rivalry is that it felt very one sided. Obviously, they both had extremely valid reasons to hate each other's guts at first — reasons that go beyond Inuyasha —, but Kikyo was the only one actually acting on it.

And she kept doing it even after Kagome has proved, time and time again, that she can be trusted and that she is in no way deserving of Kikyo's hatred.

I think that was a great dynamic because Kagome and Kikyo parallel each other so well: while Kagome was strugling with her own feelings in order to understand Kikyo's and accept her as a part of Inuyasha's life...

...Kikyo was fighting to do the exact opposite and hold on to her grudge. You can tell it by the way she can recognize what Kagome's true intentions were but still belittle her for it and refuse to say anything nice to her face.

It's a extremely compelling "yin and yang" sort of thing that worked very well at the start. What happened was that, at a certain point, Kagome has done so much for Kikyo that any ressentment towards her just felt a little ridiculous.

And I'm not even saying Kikyo should've been nicer and thanked Kagome. I think it's perfectly okay for a female character to dislike another. They don't have to be friends just because they're women, especially when there's so much bad blood between them.

In fact, I don't think there's room for a canon friendship there without it feeling awkward and forced — even though Kagome was obviously trying. I also think Kikyo being nice and thanking Kagome would be out of character and honestly a little underwhelming.

After everything that happened, a simple "thank you" doesn't even begin to cover. And as much as Kagome deserved to hear it, she didn't do anything because she wanted to be the better person or for Kikyo to be in debt with her. She did it because she's a good person and therefore will always do the right thing.

In my opinion, it wasn't exactly to Kagome that Kikyo owed anything, but to the narrative, as a way to earn her so called redemption by being held accountable for her actions, which she never really was.

Rather than Kikyo being nicer to Kagome, I think it would've been much better for both characters if Kagome was allowed to tell Kikyo off every now and then without it being an illusion.

And rather than Kikyo thanking Kagome, it would've been way more natural and meaningful for her to die saving Kagome's or Inuyasha's life instead of Kohaku's. It would've shown more regret and gratitude than any words ever could. Everything would come full circle — since she tried to kill them both while they were only trying to save her — and her closure would feel actually earned.

As for the spiritual training thing, I see where people are coming from and in another universe I think it would've been totally cool for them to have a dynamic like Aang and Roku had in Avatar, but again: it doesn't really work in canon.

More importantly: it goes against a theme that was introduced very earlier in the show, which is Kagome being her own person, doing her own thing, aside from Kikyo.

We literally see her trying to channel Kikyo's powers and failing...

...Then just being herself and succeeding:

If anyone was obligated to train her, that's Kaede, but particularly I like the idea of Kagome being self taught and making the moves up as she goes even better. I think it adds a lot to her character, I just wished Takahashi had explored it properly.

Plus, let's be honest: Kagome was doing a fine job on her own. Kikyo was the one making her life a thousand times harder by coming up with those nonsensical plans. In the end of the day it wasn't Kagome who needed Kikyo to defeat Naraku, but rather Kikyo who needed Kagome.

That being said, if Kikyo were to be nicer and thank someone, I think that person should've been Inuyasha and I will die on this hill. He was risking everything he had because she guilt tripped him into thinking he owed it to her.

"You came for me, that is enough" was not a thank you nor an apology. I can understand her reluctance when it comes to Kagome, but I can't justify her treatment of Inuyasha. Not when she was supposed to love him.

[howlettloki]

Less smut, more meaningful words with such eloquence, well executed plot, characterizations and world building.

A Loki (Marvel)/Reader Fic Recommendation

If you’re like me, who loves to read longer fics then this blog post is for you. This list features beautiful books I have read featuring Loki and the reader for the past 5 years. This is long overdue I have been planning to do this for a while now. I’ll do my best to share all of them in one post (might probably edit this once I remember more). One thing, I really love when an author finds a way to not use Y/N. Enjoy the list!

Completed Fics

Frostbite by Maiden_of_Asgard

Synopsis:

Iceland is nice - sure, you probably should’ve picked a time of year when the weather was a little warmer, but it isn’t too bad, and at least you’re away from your desk job, right? It’s a pretty big adventure.

You’ve always said that you wanted more adventure in your life.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This one you’ve probably read, if not go check it out. It’s one of the best out there. I mean, need I say more?

The Proposal by BirdsofHermes

Synopsis:

An AU gender-reversal of the 2009 romantic comedy The Proposal. You work for Loki Laufeyson at Asgard International Publishing. He accidentally lets his work Visa expire and is about to be deported back to England, so he blurts out that he's marrying you. Now you have to convince an immigration inspector as well as your own family that you're in love with Loki or he gets deported for life and you face five years jail time.

Review:

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I have read this more than one can count fingers in their hands.

Broken Crown by Michelleleahhh

Synopsis:

Your betrothal to Thor was convenient - brokered as an alliance between two powerful families.

Your marriage to Loki... is unimaginable.

Review:

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Please proceed with caution and read the tags. When I read this the first time, I was new to this world but I remembered enjoying reading this piece. I just recently re-read this, and I just found some minor stuff I didn’t really enjoy. Overall the story and the plot got me hooked however, there’s just few chapters that I feel could’ve been explored more and executed better. Still, I enjoyed reading this the second time around.

Fǫruneyti by Evaldrynn

Synopsis:

A story in which a herbalist makes a decision that will drastically change her life, and in which a prince begins to realise that there might still be hope for him yet. A tale of danger, adventure, friendship - and, ultimately, love. 

Review:

⭐️⭐️⭐️✨

This one I stopped reading at 70%, I have certain icks when it comes to reading and once I reach that ick jar I’m done. It was still beautifully written, got me hooked and all, loved the progress. What can I say, I love slow burns.

The Devil Inside by Ursus_minor

Synopsis:

You're a free lance artist and just running short of rent money for the month, so when your good buddy Thor offers you a one-off job at his sister's company, you take it - even though helping his little brother out with some paperwork sounds awfully tedious

I always wondered what Loki, Hela and Thor would do if they were 'mere mortals'

Review:

⭐️⭐️⭐️✨

It’s deleted but I was lucky enough to have read this way back 2020. It was one of my favorite back then, because it was hard to find a long fic where Loki is not the God of Mischief but just a mere mortal living amongst us. I honestly forgot most about this story, I only remember bits and pieces, you’re Thor’s best friend and he helped you gain money by working under Loki, like the synopsis said.

A Study In Suit by lowkeyorloki

Synopsis:

You've worked too damn hard to get into Professor Laufeyson's course, and you're not about to let your pesky attraction to him get in the way. Your Professor, however, has other plans.

Review:

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Professor Loki. That’s it.

From the Void, With Love by pilotisms

Synopsis:

Torn from time, you have to navigate the TVA with the one person who singlehandedly tried to conquer NYC. Turns out you & him have a future-past. Time is weird.

Review:

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This is one of the best I’ve read, this is my second to The Proposal. I fucking love this you have no idea. Wished there was a longer sequel though.

Litklœði by GoldTrimmedSpectacles

Synopsis:

“And the sire promised that he would spend the rest of his days searching for the cure of the flower disease which took his friend. And he did find this cure, but not without a cost,” Frigga explained and stroked Loki’s head as the illusions vanished. “But now, when one is fraught with flowers in their chest, a völva can remove these flowers with seiðr – saving the victim’s life and removing the vines from their lungs.”

The Allmother paused and looked at your small, childish face. Her smile was kind and full, but her eyes lay empty and sad. The knowledge of yet to come lay heavy on her features.

However, be warned my child, that with the removal of lung flowers the feelings of unrequited love will be removed too. As will any remaining trace of friendship. So be careful how you give your heart, my dear. You may never know what you could lose.

Review:

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Hanahaki Disease AU? Anyone? This one is from my previous blog post. Pure feelings. Loved young loki and young reader.

In Progress or Abandoned Gems

Mea Culpa by OlympianWine

Synopsis:

Six years ago yours and Loki's relationship came to an abrupt and messy end, leaving resentment and hurt in its wake. Now you haven't heard a whisper of him in years, until he turns up at his brother's wedding, seemingly changed for the better, and you're thrust into facing both him and the memories you had buried. But a dangerous figure from Loki's past looms overhead, and Thanos is determined to hunt Loki down and make him pay for betraying him.

Review:

💔💔💔💔💔

I mean based on the synopsis who wouldn’t want to read that? Last update was last year, here’s to hoping it’ll update more or I’m gonna have to kms.

Anagapesis by OlympianWine

Synopsis:

You have a perfect life; a loving husband, a beautiful baby. But when it all comes crashing down, you must put survival ahead of sentiment and turn to a darker prince - your husband's brother. Loki is cruel and cold, and he hates you with a burning passion. Or so you think.

Review:

💔💔💔💔

Just when you think you’re falling, he makes you remember what type of person he is. I feel for Loki, but he’s just cruel man. I wish there was more so I could understand him a bit more.

Seiðmaðr by GoldTrimmedSpectacles

Synopsis:

Amidst the fallen brethren of the Vanaheimr war against Muspelheim, the dark prince of Asgard finds himself lost and riddled with amnesia. His words are barbed, his tongue is gilded and his eyes are sharp. He has no recollection of his name or family, but he soon comes to realise that perhaps it is best for the past to be shadowed by the future, and that life as a beloved commoner is better than life as a miserable prince.

Review:

💔💔💔💔💔

I’m a sucker for fantasy and a well executed world building. I love how I’m instantly transported into the world created by the author and I feel alive inside. I wish there was a way to find out what happens next. I just love this so much I wish there was more.

[essentiallyleaf]

Ya know what , I'll give you an idea

As a commercial pilot how bout a kink "plane sex"

And pls write Rosé with this kink

day 15. body worship. with. rosé.

1268 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, body worship, lots of kissing and licking, feet stuff, abs stuff, oral sex, fingering, squirting, minor plane stuff, the dialogue just goes places idk, hold onto your suspension of disbelief for dear life, blasphemy(?).

notes.

this is barely even related to the ask, isn’t it? sorry, icyphilosopher, i really am (thank you so much for the inspiration though). well, my excuse is i watched Queen & Slim (it was alright, the soundtrack might be the best part. that and Daniel Kaluuya) and felt like crime today.

The private jet has barely taken off when Rosé starts taking her clothes off, starting from the black heels, then proceeding with the black cropped blazer, the high-waisted black shorts, along with the belt and the chains attached to them, the polka dot black shirt, and finishing with the black stockings and her black underwear. She puts them all in a black trash bag and throws herself on the beige leather sofa face first, completely naked.

“Fuck this ‘No fires on the plane’ rule.” She complains into the beige pillow.

“I mean, if you want to burn them now and cause a fire, making the jet collapse on itself and getting us buried on the bottom of the northern Pacific, go ahead.” You reply nonchalantly as you take a sip of vodka while sitting cross-legged on one of the beige armchairs.

“Honestly, compared to the prospect of a ten-hour flight with you, that doesn’t even sound that bad”

It’s Rosé’s habit to burn clothes, phones, cars, (people,) anything that can be linked to her in a meaningful way, after every job. This time it was a fairly straightforward drug trade with this Yakuza syndicate in Osaka: give the talcum powder, take the money, go home. The road was somewhat bumpy and a couple heads had to pop, but what can you do. Oh, and the getting naked in front of you part, that was a thing way before you two started fucking.

You stand up from your seat and duck next to the couch as she turns her head towards you. Start caressing her smooth, long blonde hair as you admire her graceful features. How could such a cold, brutal criminal look so angelic?

“Are you in a hurry?”

“Leave no trace.” She recites her mantra matter-of-factly.

“You think someone’s on our trail?”

You lay on top of her and start kissing her shoulders, from the left, then move her hair to kiss her neck, to the right, and back a couple times.

“Someone’s always on your trail.” Your kisses start heading down her back, each a little wetter than the previous. “You know how it always ends with people like us, right?”

You think you hear Rosé’s voice break for a split second, but you could be wrong. Place your hands on her shoulders and start slowly making little circles with your thumbs as you keep traveling down.

“We get greedy and scared and die sad and alone?”

“We always trust one person too many”

As your trail of kisses gets to her lower back, right above the curve of her ass, you flip her body around. Bend her legs on her chest, then start massaging each foot with one of your hands, going from the middle of her soles, to her heels, to the balls of her feet, untangling her muscle fibers all the way through. You hear her humming in the meantime.

“So? Would you stop living your life for that?”

“I would try my best not to end my life because of that.” You bring her feet to your mouth and start pecking her toes, then travel down the inside of her feet and up again kissing her soles. “Plus, it gives me a sense of peace, of liberation”

“Ashes to ashes?”

“In that analogy, I would be… God?”

Take a long lick from her heel to the ball of her foot, ending by wrapping your lips around her big toe and licking all around it.

“Do you feel like one?”

“I don’t think God sees himself like we see him” She moves her other foot towards your mouth to signal you to switch, which you do, as your hands reach towards her small breasts and start softly playing with her rosy nipples. “Powerful men need people to adore them to feel immortal. Immortals don’t need our attention to be powerful”

“You think God is a woman?”

“I think God is a depressed fuck.”

You let out a chuckle. Then lower her knees again and place yourself between them to start kissing and licking her wonderful, sculpted abs. Your right hand almost instinctively starts lightly rubbing her already wet outer lips, your left grabbing her plump asscheek.

“What a short couple billion years alone in the button room could do to ya”

“But honestly, working on the wrong side of the law… I think it’s hard not to feel like one” She starts panting a little in between words.

“Ego?” Your mouth slowly travels down her lower stomach while your fingers play with her nub.

“Just, pure facts. I could kill a man that crosses my path at any time, and I have. Mmmmh. We just, own their lives. The decision to let them live on, or to end them, right then and there. It’s all ours. Yeahh- How do you not feel all-powerful when you have that?”

It becomes hard for her to complete a sentence without any moans in between.

“Does it matter?”

“W-What?”

Rosé’s focus is probably directed away from the conversation, and towards the feeling of your fingers opening her lips wide and your tongue taking one long lick from the bottom of her slit up to her sensitive clit.

“I don’t know them. Are decisions over the lives of people you don’t care about even worth making?”

You take several shorter licks around her slit, side to side, up and down, once in a while penetrating her hole slightly.

“What do y-youh care about?”

As her moans become longer and more frequent, her sentences become simpler and shorter.

“Right now, taking my money home”

Your tongue digs deep into her pussy, you try to reach every corner and crevice of her heat with it, and her whimpers tell you you’re doing a pretty good job at it.

“And th-en, what?”

Your mouth detaches from her right as she sounds like she’s going to give in. You get on your knees and pause for a second, looking at the empty floor of the plane. 

“...I don’t know, a legacy?”

“Villains have no legacy, they only leave bloody paper and hate behind them”

You get back down to face her, staring right down Rosé’s deep brown orbs. Your fingers return to her lower lips, and two of them make their way into her slippery walls, drawing a loud groan off of her. You start pumping in and out of her at an ever increasing pace.

“Love. I want someone to come back home to, to be there, waiting for me, to heal my wounds.” She’s now moaning right in your face, her pitch getting higher and higher, signaling her impending high, but her eyes are wide open and locked on yours. “To be able to spend time with, in silence, without it feeling awkward, not needing to worry about the future, just looking at her in the eyes, and, being in love.”

A few final pumps and Rosé starts repeatedly contracting around you, a stream of unholy water covering your entire hand and wrist in a profane coating, only a deep, tongue-filled kiss muting her screams as she finally can’t keep her eyes open anymore. You close yours with her as her arms wrap around your neck. The kiss lasts far longer than the already lengthy while she takes to recover from her strong orgasm. As both of you stare into each other’s pupils again, you’re the first to talk.

“How do you know when you’ve found what you’re looking for?”

“I don’t know. I think I’ll start from, looking at the junk I’ve collected on my way, before burning it”

-

footnotes.

god is a journey. progressively, leaf.

[engeorged]

The Conference Part One

Chapter One: 2018

Kit had taken the job not knowing that my first week would be the company’s annual sales conference. He was always painfully shy and preferred to stay at home with his nose in a book or playing some online strategy game in his darkened room. He had done well at school and college and eventually university where he had picked up his qualifications easily and ahead of schedule. But after finishing he moved back in with his parents and rarely went out. At first it was perfect, his parents left him alone and his noisy brothers were all off living their lives. But at 26, he began to feel a bit trapped. He needed to change something.

Tackling it in his usual academic way, he booked some time with a life coach. The first few meetings with the coach were painful but eventually he began to come round to the idea that he had a lot to offer the world. He was smart and funny and even though he would never admit it, quite attractive in a bookish way. Kit was tall and athletic looking for someone who didn't do any athletics. The coach had encouraged him to put himself out there into the world and so he applied for a job with a huge international shipping company. Well, shipping was their business on paper but in reality they dabbled in most markets making billions every day. The analytics job he applied for suited Kit down to the ground, he would be based in an office ploughing through numbers but would still be in contact with colleagues in person.

The day of the conference arrived and Kit had every intention of trying to interact with some people and had even practised some conversation starters in advance. As he stepped into the lobby of the huge hotel his heart began to pound, this was going to be even harder than he had feared. But he was determined to not bail. He joined the queue for check in and once he had his key card, he hurried off to his room for safety. After nesting and getting unpacked, he gave himself a little pep talk in the mirror and ventured to the first session. There was no way he would be able to avoid talking to people in a crowd like this.

Unfortunately, the reality was very much that he was able to attend a national conference and not speak to a single person. Everyone seemed to know people already and Kit just blended into the background, like normal. Sessions came and went, meals happened and Kit managed to not have a single meaningful interaction except ordering the odd coffee.

By the third day he was done hiding and decided that he would use some of the techniques he’d practised with his coach and approach someone to initiate a chat IRL. He scouted round the room and saw one of the guys he had met at his interview. He was in the same department Kit would be working in, and seemed friendly, so he approached him with a drink in his hand. He waited for a few minutes before the guy turned round and half smiled at him. Kit opened his mouth to say hi and ask how he was finding the conference and nothing came out. The guy waited for a few seconds before nodding his head awkwardly and turning round to continue with his friend.

Kit had blown it. He slipped away, holding back tears and found a quiet bathroom at the back of the hotel. Fortunately, there was no one in there and he shot into a cubicle and closed the door behind him. His head was spinning. Who did he think he was, taking a job like this? He should have taken something in a smaller company where there were just a few people and no annual sales conference. This was too much too soon.

As he sat there, berating himself for being so stupid, he heard the door to the bathroom crash open.

‘Fucks sake!’ he heard a deep voice exclaim. The man was clearly annoyed at something and went to the taps, which he turned on. Kit tried not to breathe as the figure stomped around the bathroom trying to do something. All at once the door to the stall began to swing open. Kit froze. He’d not locked it. As it opened further Kit saw the source of the swearing. The guy was huge. 6’6 easily with huge shoulders and a thick neck. He was frantically scrubbing something off his front. Kit prayed he wouldn’t turn around and see him but it was too late. The hulk of a man looked up and saw his reflection in the mirror.

‘Hey man, help a bro out?’ He said as he saw Kit sat on the toilet.

Kit, now spotted, knew he couldn’t get out of this. He stood up and ventured out of the toilet.

‘What happen? Er I mean how happened? I mean . . . (Sigh). What did you do?’ Kit stammered

The bear turned round and the hint of a smile crossed his face, although it didn’t feel unkind. As he turned, Kit saw what was wrong. He’d split a load of marinara sauce down the front of his white shirt. Now Kit could see him fully, he saw how good looking the giant was. He was as tall as he looked with dark messy hair, pale skin with a hint of freckles across his nose and piercing blue eyes. His face was neatly covered in dense stubble which framed his face and made him look incredibly handsome. The man was furiously scrubbing at a large marinara sauce stain that had spread across his crisp white shirt only making it worse.

The man glanced around the bathroom and his eyes landed on Kit again. “Could you give me a hand with this? I’m making it worse.” he asked, his tone surprisingly friendly despite his obvious frustration at himself. Kit froze, unsure how to respond. There was something about his easy confidence and open demeanour that made Kit feel a bit braver.

“Uh, sure,” Kit replied finally, stepping out from behind the stall. Together, they worked on the stain, but it quickly became apparent that it wasn’t coming out. Kit bit his lip, thinking quickly. “You could borrow my sweater?,” he offered hesitantly. “It’s oversized on me so it should fit you!’ Kit’s cheeks went red as he realised what he just said. ‘Shit. Not that you’re oversized, you’re perfect obviously.’

Fortunately for Kit, he ignored his babbling and his face lit up with gratitude. “That would be amazing. Thanks, man.” Without hesitation, he began unbuttoning his ruined shirt. As he pulled it off, Kit couldn’t help but notice his muscular physique. His broad chest and shoulders were covered in a neatly trimmed but strong layer of dark hair, which trailed down to a surprisingly rounded, but muscular furry belly. Kit felt a strange, unexpected attraction stir within him. The contrast of the man’s strong, imposing build and the firm, rounded belly was surprisingly captivating, making Kit’s heart race.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Kit handed over his sweater. He promptly slipped it on, the fabric stretching taut across his chest and stomach. It fit, but only just, highlighting his muscular frame in a way that was both impressive and slightly comical. A slim line of furry flesh visible just above his waistband was distracting. “Perfect fit,” he joked with a wink, his friendly demeanour putting Kit at ease.

“Thanks, Kit,” the man mountain said, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re a lifesaver. I owe you one.” Kit managed a shy smile, feeling a strange sense of relief. As quickly as he had come into Kit’s life he was gone again before Kit could say anything.

That evening, Kit lay on his bed in the dim light of his hotel room, unable to stop thinking about the encounter. His mind kept drifting back to the sight of that muscular, rounded belly and the way it had felt to see him so close, so real. There was an undeniable magnetism there, an effortless charm that drew people in and made them feel seen. Kit had never met anyone like him before—someone so full of energy and creativity, who could transform even a mundane bathroom encounter into a moment of genuine connection.

Kit felt a strange mix of admiration and longing, but also confusion. He had known he was gay for a while, but it wasn’t something he had ever bothered to tell anyone. It didn't seem important really. But this attraction, particularly to the man’s firm, rounded belly, was new. He had never thought he could be drawn to a man with a belly, and the intensity of these feelings left him a little unsettled. As he replayed the events of the day, Kit realised that something had awakened in him, a desire to break free from his shell and experience life with the same vibrant intensity. Yet, the novelty of his attraction and the strength of Kit’s introversion, made everything feel even more complicated, leaving Kit with a mix of excitement and uncertainty that he couldn’t quite resolve.

The next morning, after very little sleep, Kit shuffled into the hotel’s breakfast area, still feeling the echoes of his turbulent thoughts from the previous night. He chose a quiet corner table, hoping to remain unnoticed. But as he picked at his food, he felt a sudden presence and looked up to see the same giant from the bathroom striding toward him with a broad smile. Without a hint of hesitation, he plonked himself down at Kit’s table, a plate heaping with scrambled eggs, bacon, and pastries in hand.

“Morning, Kit!” The man’s voice was warm and full of energy. He dug into his plate of food with gusto eating like he hadn’t eaten before, the smell of the rich breakfast filling the air. Kit realised that now was his chance to ask the guy's name. He tried to formulate the words in his head but as if the man were a mind reader he offered his own name. ‘I’m Odin by the way. I know what you’re thinking, but before you ask, my parents were hippies!’

Kit laughed at the confession. With each bite, Kit’s eyes were drawn back to the sight of Odin’s belly, the firm, rounded shape becoming even more pronounced as he continued to eat. The fabric of his shirt stretched tighter over his growing midsection, which seemed to be rounder that last night.

Fortunately, Odin didn’t really need Kit to say much as he chatted animatedly, his enthusiasm making it impossible for Kit to remain withdrawn. He was just very present in the space he occupied and seemingly at ease with everyone. He seemed to not notice Kit’s intense stares or his bumbled words, he just accepted him as he was.

As Odin piled more food onto his plate at the buffet table, and took large, hearty bites, his belly pushed outward, growing more pronounced with every helping. Kit found himself unable to look away, captivated by the way Odin’s midsection seemed to expand and stretch with the volume of food he consumed.

Despite the vast amounts of food Odin consumed, he managed to exude an infectious energy that kept Kit engaged and entertained. Odin’s effortless charm and the way his belly visibly filled out, becoming rounder and firmer, drew Kit in like a magnet. ‘Are you gonna eat that?’ Odin pointed at Kit's uneaten waffle. ‘Take it!’ Kit obliged but Odin had already reached over and taken a bite.

By the end of breakfast, Kit was unexpectedly energised, his thoughts a whirl of admiration and fascination, all thanks to Odin’s remarkable ability to connect and draw him in—even amidst the clamour of a busy buffet. His appetite sated, Odin stretched his arms high into the air in a big display of a stretch. This showed off his well developed biceps and triceps perfectly. As he made the gesture his shirt rode all the way up, exposing the whole of his hairy bloated stomach. Kit made every effort to not let his jaw drop as he got a glimpse of the full glory of his overstuffed middle. The curve of it framed by his muscular torso, his adonis belt still defined at the edges. Odin, apparently oblivious to his belly display, shook himself off and stood. ‘Right. Gotta catch a train see you next year buddy?’ And with that he'd gone leaving Kit with a mind full of questions and visuals he would no doubt be revisiting.

Chapter Two - 2019

A whole year had passed since Kit had last met Odin at the conference. In that time, Kit had spent countless moments scanning rooms at work events, hoping for another chance encounter with the man who had left such an indelible impression on him. Although he hadn't seen Odin, the experience had spurred Kit to work on his own confidence. He attended more networking events, pushed himself out of his comfort zone, and found himself slowly becoming more at ease in social situations. He would use the phrase, ‘Be more Odin’ in the moments where he lacked confidence.

That evening, at the same annual sales conference, Kit's heart nearly stopped when he finally spotted a familiar figure across the room. Odin, looking even more formidable than before, was chatting animatedly with a group of colleagues. His already impressive physique had bulked up considerably; his chest and arms were more massive, and his belly, while still firm and round, was noticeably smaller. As Kit approached, his eyes took in Odin's transformation. The man had clearly dedicated himself to work on his body, his muscles taut and defined under his fitted shirt.

Kit hesitated, his nerves getting the better of him. What if Odin didn’t remember him? What if he was just another face in a sea of conference attendees? What if he would remember him as the nerd who oggled him all through that breakfast. Doubt got the better of him, and he decided to turn away, retreating back into the crowd.

“Kit!” a familiar voice boomed behind him. Kit stopped in his tracks, his heart pounding. He turned around to see Odin striding towards him, a broad smile lighting up his face. “I thought that was you!”

“Odin,” Kit said, his voice a mix of relief and excitement. “I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

“Of course I remember you!” Odin laughed, enveloping Kit in a hug. Kit marvelled at the sheer solidity of his friend’s body pushed up against him. As they pulled apart, Odin’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “I’ve got news. Decided to go part-time at work and pursue bodybuilding seriously. Aiming for the Olympics next year.”

Kit’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “The Olympics? That’s incredible! I didn’t know body building was an Olympic sport?’

Odin laughed, a deep, resonant sound. “I'm pretty sure it is! Well, it’s a dream of mine anyway. We’ll see how far I get.” His laughter and the casual confidence in his voice were infectious, and Kit couldn’t help but smile back.

Later that night, Odin suggested they hit a nearby bar to catch up properly. As they sat down with their drinks, Kit found himself falling deeper into conversation with Odin. They talked about everything—work, life, and Odin’s rigorous training regime. Kit was in awe of Odin’s dedication and the sheer positivity he radiated.

Midway through the evening, Kit accidentally stepped on a man's foot as he moved to get another drink. The man, clearly drunk and looking for trouble, began to mock Kit loudly. “Watch it, you prick! Can’t even walk straight, huh you fucking piss stain?” Kit felt his face heat up, the familiar sting of embarrassment threatening to ruin his night. But before he could react, Odin was on his feet, towering over the douchebag with an intimidating presence.

“Back off,” Odin growled, his voice low and menacing. “You’ve had enough to drink, and you’re out of line.”

The drunk guy, suddenly realising the size and strength of the man confronting him, backed down immediately, muttering an apology before slinking away. Odin sat back down, his expression softening as he looked at Kit.

“You okay?” he asked, concern in his eyes.

Kit nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude and something deeper—admiration, affection, perhaps even something more. “Thanks, Odin. That meant a lot.”

Odin smiled, a genuine, warm smile that made Kit’s heart flutter. “Anytime, Kit. You’re a good guy, and nobody should make you feel less than that!’

As the night wore on, Kit found himself hopelessly in love with Odin. The way Odin had stood up for him, the ease with which he navigated life, and the sheer kindness and strength he embodied—it all combined to make Kit realise just how much this man meant to him. By the end of the night, Kit knew he was no longer just looking up to Odin; he was falling for him, deeply and irrevocably.

Chapter Three - 2020

Kit was once again eagerly anticipating the annual sales conference where he could finally meet up with his friend again to see his progress. As the year marched on however, the dreaded covid hit. The conference was cancelled and replaced with a virtual event on Zoom. Kit was both disappointed and relieved—disappointed because he wouldn’t get to see Odin in person, but relieved because he could still potentially see him, even if only on screen.

As the conference began, Kit saw Odin’s name logged on and scanned the various breakout rooms, hoping to spot Odin among the sea of faces. Finally, he found him in a room dedicated to a team-building exercise. Kit quickly joined in, his heart racing with anticipation.

The breakout room was filled with chatter as everyone tried to navigate the awkwardness of virtual icebreakers. Odin’s familiar face appeared on Kit’s screen, and Kit’s breath caught. Odin looked more muscular than ever, his shoulders and chest filling the frame impressively. His biceps bulged as he gestured animatedly, the camera catching every detail of his powerful upper body.

Kit tried to focus on the task at hand, but his eyes kept drifting back to Odin. He was desperate to ask him how the olympic dreams were going but couldn't find an opportune moment. Midway through the session, Odin stood up to grab something off-screen. As he did, his shirt lifted slightly, revealing a glimpse of his belly. Kit’s eyes widened as he saw that Odin’s belly was fully back. It still retained that firm, round shape he remembered but it was a striking difference from the toned hunk he had met last year. The sight of Odin’s much larger belly sent a thrill through Kit, making it difficult to concentrate on anything else.

Odin, oblivious to the effect he was having on Kit, returned to his seat, readjusting his shirt casually. He then glanced at the camera and sighed, a hint of embarrassment crossing his face.

Later on that day when zoom fatigue was truly setting in, Kit received a private message with a link to a google meet session. “Alright, Kit!’ Odin said sheepishly. ‘I guess you saw how my training has been going!’

With that, Odin stood up again and pulled his shirt up fully, revealing his sizable belly in all its hefty glory. It was much larger than last year, firm and round, jutting out proudly from his otherwise muscular frame. “This,” Odin continued with a chuckle, patting his belly, “is what happens when you mix a love for food with a bit too much fun.”

Kit’s eyes were glued to the screen, his heart pounding. Odin’s nonchalant attitude and confidence as he displayed his body were incredibly captivating. The juxtaposition of his sculpted upper body with his prominent, tight belly was both surprising and intensely arousing for Kit.

“Anyway,” Odin said, sitting back down and readjusting his shirt, “I’m trying to get back on track, but it’s a work in progress.” He laughed, a deep, resonant sound that Kit found both endearing and incredibly attractive. “I’m thinking the Olympics are maybe for another time!’

As the unscheduled breakout session ended and the pair to the main conference zoom, Kit found himself barely able to think straight. His mind kept replaying the moment when Odin’s had shown him his belly. It was so round and inviting. And so perfectly covered in hair! As the event drew to a close, Kit knew one thing for certain: his feelings for Odin had only grown stronger, and he was more determined than ever to find a way to express them. He had a plan.

Part Two here

For more of my stories click here

[agroteraa]

I Wanna Be Your Dog

Oliver Quick x f!Reader

My fic masterlist

Summary: Oliver's memories of one of the evenings at Oxford, where you began getting closer. And a night in Saltburn, where you try to be dominant with him.

Actaeon series spin-off, taking place between Artemis and The Wrath of the Stag.

Warnings: smut, dom!Reader, sub!Oliver, switching, oral, penetration sex.

Word Count: 2,8K

It was another spring party at Oxford. All the young people were chatting cheerfully with bottles and glasses in their hands in the slightly dim light of the dormitory's common room. Felix and Oliver were almost lying relaxed on the couch and had been silent for some time.

“Now, can you eenie, meenie India or Annabel, and take one fucking home? Because they look miserable,” Oliver suggested softly.

“Eenie, meenie, miny, moe. Catch a tiger by his toe. If he squeals, let him go. Er..." Felix seemingly forgot the text of the counting-out rhyme, but decided to finish it as soon as possible and make a choice anyway, "You're out, boy scout!"

The choice fell on Annabelle. He happily pecked Oliver on the cheek in gratitude, which made him grin widely. Oliver liked being praised. Especially by those who were important to him. Felix quickly jumped up from the sofa and, lightly slapping the contented girl on the ass, and went off with her upstairs.

“Well, what the fuck, mate? I’ve been chirpsing her for about an hour. I wanted at least a hand job...” the guy Annabelle left said in disappointment.

An hour. What did he know about waiting. How about almost a whole year, mate? Oliver smiled indulgently to himself. And anyway, how shallow that guy thoughts and desires were.

“I know. We all want a fucking handjob, mate. Get yourself a title and a massive fuck off castle.”

That where it was hard to argue. A title and a massive fuck off castle had never harmed anyone in life yet.

"Hey, here I am! And where is Felix?.." you were surprised when you returned from your dorm room and sat back down on the sofa, only this time next to Oliver alone.

"I don't know really," he shrugged, smiling, "I think he’s decided to go have some fun on his own."

"Hmm," you pursed your lips, not really surprised, but still, deep down, a little upset that Felix was acting like that again. You guessed where and why he might have gone, but decided not to focus on that thought right now. Besides, you'd already poured another bottle of your drink into yourself. There was some silence in the air. Before that, you had fun talking to the guys, mostly Felix, and you had never been alone with Oliver for long, especially at parties. You clenched your bottle tightly like a social lifebuoy.

Oliver was even beginning to interest you a little, just a little, but you still had no idea what and how to talk to him in private. He still seemed more like Felix's shadow. But at the same time, being face-to-face for at least a short time, you felt like you had to tell Oliver something meaningful, something deep... as if you should be giving away to him some of your secrets. You were vaguely disturbed by this feeling, as now you were just in the mood for small talk only.

"Um... so… how’s your study going?" you asked, not knowing where else to start a new separate conversation with him besides studying.

"Pretty well," he replied a little awkwardly, embarrassed by your close presence himself. Before that, Felix separated you on the couch, but now he wasn’t a bother anymore. Oliver definitely liked this intimacy, even though he was obviously not used to it yet. But one gets used to the fine things quickly. And Oliver was greedy for all the new truly fine things in his life.

"And yours?"

"Yeah, too," you took a small sip from the bottle, trying not to look him in the eye. At the same time, because you felt awkward and because these blue eyes have been looking at you so piercingly lately, as if they were drilling right into your soul. You couldn't tell if it was embarrassing for you, or if it was some other kind of excitement. Maybe both.

"And what about yours..." Oliver was interrupted by one of Felix's many friends, Chad, who plopped down on the arm of the sofa next to you.

"Hey, Y/N! I finally got to the party on your campus! How are you?"

"Oh, Chad! It's been a long time, it’s like you've disappeared somewhere. Have you really been studying so hard lately?" you both laughed loudly at this very bold assumption of yours. You continued to communicate, actively exchanging the latest news. Over time, you felt guilty a little. You turned to Oliver and smiled at him. He smiled back understandingly. His face visibly saddened when you turned back to the blond guy. He began to examine the empty bottom of his plastic cup, twirling it slightly in his hands. How should he get Y/N's attention? He didn't know. He had to come up with a plan. What would he do, what should he say, so that you…

"Hey, Oliver! Did you have any classes with Mr. Wharton?" you asked with interest, involving him in your conversation. He exhaled a little as he realized that you weren't leaving him in the middle of this party, where he felt like a stranger without Felix and you. You looked at him with a warm smile, and something inside him finally clicked and fell into place.

"Er, yeah... that oddball. He constantly comes up with fruit analogies for everything and even sometimes speaks on their behalf while holding them in hands."

"Ah, have you seen that too?! Y/N, I told you, he's an old weirdo! Only you are attending the wrong classes!" exclaimed Chad, and you all laughed merrily. The conversation was going well, and Oliver was incredibly happy about it. He didn't feel lonely anymore because of you.

But in return, some feelings that he had only vaguely suspected until this moment began to awaken inside him. You didn't stop drinking, and at some point, Chad put his arm around you and started lightly stroking your back. You giggled without giving it much thought, especially under the influence of alcohol. But Oliver saw perfectly well how Chad looked more and more into your eyes, lowering his gaze to your lips and lightly licking his own. It was very subtle, but Quick noticed it all. The way his hand keeps stroking your back, gripping you tighter and tighter. Oliver saw it all perfectly well, because he wanted to be in that place himself.

No, rather, he didn't really want to. He had long imagined your first kiss when you were fully conscious, willing and not under the influence of some alcohol, when you were too much mellow-minded. And he wouldn't let your kiss with Chad happen now, in this state, nor ever.

Sometimes it seemed you and him were very different. He could see through everything, and sometimes it was like you notice none of what you really should. How could you not understand that this Chad wanted to take you upstairs just like Felix did with Annabel?

You were kind and open, maybe even too friendly, oh, Y/N. Oliver was drawn to you like a moth to a fire. You were quite a complete and content person in your own right, and this was very attractive to the many-faced Oliver, who was still struggling to find a place in this life, especially here, in his first year at Oxford.

And it seems that he began to realize that he had found his place next to you. And he wanted to take this place like a guard dog, protecting it and you from all the adversity and guys like Chad.

You didn't forget about Oliver and wanted him to feel fine and less lonely, even hardly knowing him, even having so many friends and acquaintances here, even in the midst of fun of the party. You showed towards him attention and care.

Yeah, he would like to be your dog, he thought now.

Fortunately, you got up soon, freeing yourself from Chad's embrace and going to the bathroom. Great. Oliver had been carefully observing the situation in the common room all this time, so he immediately got up from the sofa and sauntered into the common kitchen, where India was smoking, still slightly displeased that Felix had not chosen her.

"How’s the party? " Oliver asked politely, grabbing a can of beer from the fridge.

India rolled her eyes, twirling a cigarette in her fingers, "What do you need?"

"Me? Nothing. But that guy has been looking at you half the evening without stopping," he nodded towards Chad and winked, "Just saying."

"Isn't he hanging out with Y/N?"

"No, he doesn't sleep with his buddy Felix's old friends. So, the way is clear."

"Oh, are they friends with Felix?" India narrowed her eyes. That was good, she needed some male attention right now, especially from those whom Catton Jr. might become jealous of. Thus, the girl went off towards her chance.

When you had returned to the common room, you saw Chad and India flirting with each other on the couch, and the girl did not let go of her hands off him. Okay. That was unexpected, but okay, it was a student party, after all. You shrugged your shoulders and started thinking about where you could sit now.

"Everyone seems to be having fun with each other tonight," Oliver, who happened to be next to you, shrugged sympathetically. Indeed, everyone around was busy with their own lively conversations, and someone was already far from just "talking".

"To singles?" he offered a playful toast, and you agreed with a grin, "Apparently so!"

"Cheers!" you clinked your drinks, continuing to talk a little more relaxed with each other. So, that how you started getting closer from that evening, and you began getting to know the real Oliver. At least that was what you thought at the time. He looked at you with a shy smile of a complete adoration as you were telling your stories full of joy and tipsy giggling. His eyes were shining like two starry sapphires at that moment.

If a guard dog wants to protect the peace of its owner and scare away other dogs, then it must inspire fear itself. Maybe sometimes not very intentionally, but instill just a little fear and sense of power even to its own master. Oliver wanted to be a good guard dog.

He would take this place next to you.

* * *

And he took it.

Now he was hovering over you, pinning you between his arms, leaning on your bed in your bedroom in Saltburn. It was the middle of the night, and finally not a single one inhabitant of this house could bother you right now.

Oliver thought all day about how he would continue his way with you at night, along the way remembering the evening of that party in Oxford, where you finally began to get closer. He looked down at you rapturously, biting his lip and breathing heavily, still not believing that all this was really happening. Not just right now, but in general, everything.

His blue eyes were gleaming with utter delight in the dim.

"What else does my sweet Y/N want?" Oliver asked you, recovering his breathing.

He bent lower, and a chain dangled from his neck, swaying slightly. The metal heated by the warmth of your bodies tickled your lips slightly. You lifted your head and gently but firmly catching the chain with your lips.

"Mm-hmm," Quick mumbled with curiosity. You smiled, gritting the chain with your teeth and began to shake it slightly from side to side. He opened his lips excitedly, inhaling sharply.

"Am I your doggie today? Oh, I'm more than willing to be, sweetheart," he said in his deep sexy accent.

He wanted to add "now and always," but didn't. Oliver was afraid that if he showed how willing he was to obey you, he would lose your interest. He was used to changing masks, adapting to different situations and someone's needs. He was an awkward and shy nerd when you first met, and that was largely true, because of his deep core nature and the new posh environment at Oxford. Fortunately, he had successfully joined Felix's company and was able to relax a little. And here in Saltburn, he almost felt like the master of the situation.

If you wished, he would always be that sweet, shy and awkward guy for you, if only you were truly happy about it. But he had learned that he interested and intrigued you mostly when he showed a more powerful, dominant and somewhat even dark part of himself. And that made him really pleased, because you viewed him the way he hoped to be in his own deep wildest dreams.

And yet, he still wanted to be your dog, an obedient dog who would do anything for you. In a sense, he was. And today he decided to demonstrate you that in more obvious way.

"What do you want me to do? I'm all yours," he leaned back next to you, belly up. Oliver smiled playfully. Right now, he was a tiger who had been caught by the toe with his own permission.

Biting your lip, you straddled him, sitting on his thighs. After enjoying this view, you ran your hand from his navel, sliding your fingers up the groove between his prominent muscles. Oliver exhaled sharply. You stopped at his neck, grabbed his chain, and pulled him to you. Now the guy was in a sitting position, he looked at you adoringly while his hands slid over your waist.

Without letting go of one hand from the chain, you slowly rose and began to descend on his cock. Oliver hissed with satisfaction, "Yes, my dear, just like that..."

"I didn't let you talk," you pulled the chain slightly, smiling slightly.

"Oh," he said in surprise, but gladly began to obey you, nodding in agreement.

You began to move slowly on his things, while Oliver's strong hands supported you with ease, guiding you, leaving hot prints on your skin.

His hands were all over you as his lips feverishly kissed everything they could reach. Finally, he reached for your lips, covering them with a hot kiss full of saliva, admiration and arousal.

When you broke the kiss, you said, a little hesitantly, but still firmly enough, "Take your hands off, next time you touch me when I tell you."

Oliver smiled enthusiastically – you learned quickly from his example, apparently. He liked the hint of his own power and dominance reflected on himself now through you.

He obeyed your request, although it was getting harder to fulfill it by every passing minute. He wanted to touch you again, guide your body and push it harder on his hard needy cock. It became unbearable after a while, and he whined a little. He looked at you a little pleadingly, but you nodded no.

He kissed your breasts again, but in response he got "Do not touch at all."

"Only I can now," with these words, you ruffled his hair and pressed harder against his shoulders. He groaned at the inability to touch you at all, it was a new sensation, or rather, its absence.

You grabbed his hair, and he put his head closer, burying it in your hand. It was the only chance to touch you in any way. Oliver closed his eyes and inhaled noisily through his nose. He didn't even mind if you squeezed his hair even harder, hell, maybe even poked his face into the sheet, where he would inhale the scent of your arousal. If you had forced him to lick it off, he would have willingly obeyed, as long as you continued to press his face to the bed, clutching his dark curls. He even imagined doing the same with the bathtub you were lying in lately. In his bathroom. This thought turned Oliver on even more.

Degrading him, talking him down, pulling his hair or chain harshly - he would not always like to be in this role, but he would like to give you that opportunity from time to time. If only you'd asked. And even if you hadn't asked. Because it was you. And because he was like that.

Reaching the peak almost at the same time, you dug your nails into his back deeply, which made Oliver's eyes darken slightly and starry at the same time. With a pleased moan, you released your grip and sank down onto the pillows. But that wasn't all of it, and you decided to play the role given to you to the very end.

Clutching his soft dark hair, you moved his head to your thighs. He looked back at you with hazy from own rapture eyes.

"Please," you said softly, still not being able to be dominant enough. But this sweetness and dissimilarity from his own, even in a situation where you could and should do it, but asking instead, drove Oliver crazy to his limit. He attacked you with a growl, delivering all the pleasure he could possibly give to you that night.

* * *

Oliver was lying with his arms around your lower back, his head resting on your stomach. Quick looked faithfully into your eyes. His face reflected the moonlight of the deep quiet night that was now in Saltburn.

You stroked and scratched him behind the ear, he rubbed his nose contentedly against your smooth belly skin.

"Is my mistress happy?"

"Yes," you laughed, starting to play softly with his hair.

"Then I am happy too," he said, closing his eyes and rubbing his cheek against your soft belly, "Now and always."

[theambitiouswoman]

how do you deal with shame? bc i suffered with severe depression and im just getting my own apartment at 30 years old. i still have no degree, the job i go to in ashamed everyday even though it pays my bills and take care of my kids because i see everyone who i went to high school with graduated and some got their masters. im ashamed of what i been through and ashamed of where im in at my life and im carrying deep deep depression and shame because i feel like im not enough and embarrassed of where im at because i know i could’ve did more with my life.

I really want to answer this because I also remember feeling behind at one point and I definitely remember my friends comparing themselves to me because we didn’t make the same life decisions.

Just want to warn you I’m going to give you some compassion combined with a little tough love.

I’m really, REALLY sorry you’re feeling this way. No matter how different your life looks to others, it’s your life. It’s easy to compare yourself to people who seem to have it all figured out, but their paths aren’t yours. Just because you are seeing someone during the good times in their lives, doesn’t mean it will always be that way or that it won’t be for you when the time is right.

I remember feeling so much judgment because all my friends were married, had serious boyfriends, or kids. Back then, I’d leave our dinners in tears, feeling like a failure. Looking back now, the pressure I felt seems almost comical, but it was painful at the time. For context, I’ve been engaged more than once, yet I wasn’t ready to settle. Now, many of those women are divorced and starting over, often without financial independence, while I’m at a high point in my life and considering settling down on my own terms.

The lesson here is that life isn’t a race or a checklist. It’s not linear, and it doesn’t have to follow a timeline. Some people hit their stride at 20, others at 30, 40, or beyond—and that’s okay. Life is meant to be experienced, not rushed. The lessons we learn along the way shape us. Society’s timelines and standards are just that—standards. You don’t have to follow them to live a fulfilling, meaningful life.

Depression is incredibly hard to deal with, and it’s not something I take lightly. But since you’re committed to working on yourself, it’s so important to remind yourself to keep pushing forward. That said, I think you’re being way too hard on yourself right now. Who wouldn’t feel overwhelmed? But let’s take a step back—you have your own apartment for the first time, which is incredible! You have a job that allows you to provide for your kids, putting food on the table and showing up as a parent who loves them deeply. How lucky are they to have you?

From my perspective, you’re incredibly strong. You’ve faced depression and still found the courage to keep building yourself up. That’s no small feat. Don’t let negative thoughts get in your way—practice reframing them. Instead of focusing on what you feel is lacking, focus on how far you’ve come and the amazing things you’re doing right now. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.

You may not like where your life is now, but you have to realize that it is under your control. If you want to change your life now, today, you can. Your life will start to change when you yourself commit to change. And that starts with your thoughts. Work on your perspective. Don’t beat yourself up for what could have happened or didn’t happen because you’re wasting even more time for absolutely nothing. You feel like you’ve wasted years, why would you want to continue wasting any more?

Shame often stems from the story we tell ourselves, so try to shift that narrative. You wouldn’t shame your friends for struggling; you’d remind them of their resilience. Focus on small wins— change your perspective. Start focusing on showing gratitude for the things you do have and what you’ve overcome. Gratitude for everything and anything. Gratitude attracts miracles and abundance. I know this sounds dumb or unrealistic, but it’s true. Besides, it doesn’t hurt to try.

I’m very proud of you and you can do so much more, anything you want if you just had a little bit of faith in yourself. Your worth isn’t defined by what you’ve been through or what you’ve accomplished. It’s defined by the fact that you’re here, trying and pushing forward. That alone makes you more than enough.