#me: and unfortunately we share A LOT between us

[savage-rhi]

Fuchsia 💀💙

[spacedlexi]

speaking of fucked up overly hated female twdg characters i find it Super Interesting how people will say carver was the best villain in the whole series, but when lilly is literally just a successful carver (iron fist leader of a community turning children into soldiers) suddenly shes a bad/lame villain for some reason 🤔

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

just for tonight

a/n: sure, I was vigilantly working on a different wip (a very long one that needed a lot of strength to get through) but then this whole fantasy came to me and i just couldn't stop myself... at least i downgraded the idea from a full-fledged series (which i sadly very much do not have the time for) to just a slutty little one shot in an au that i can always pop back into whenever the itch pops up (or when anyone has a slutty request for it hehe).

summary: before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 

warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader's mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, posh political party, alcohol consumption, wet dream, lingerie, stockings, one night stand (except we already know those fools can't keep it to just one night), kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, oral, fingering, impact play, squirting, gaping, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 4907

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

series masterlist | next part

masterlist | join my taglist

“You sure, you don’t want some?” you squinted over at your bodyguard as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips, “this shit costs more than my dress, which is really saying something,” you pointed to the red silk gown that hung from your frame, “this is Dior.”

“I’m good, miss,” Bucky uttered, tight-lipped as always. 

“Right, sorry,” you sat the glass down at the tall table you stood beside, “can’t drink while on duty.”

Posh parties such as the one tonight were always a bit of a drag to get through. Even though you’d been hauled along for most of your life, they’d never gotten any more amusing. 

But when your mother hired Barnes to be your personal bodyguard a few months back, the thought of getting dolled up just to have a bunch of provoking politicians talk your ear off about ideas you’d never in a million years support, somehow didn’t seem as bad as it used to now that he was constantly at your side. 

It had been a little incident involving your phone getting hacked, an explicit video nearly getting leaked, one that had been made for an ex who lived in another country to make the distance more barrable, and a few threatening messages from the perpetrator that had been the reason for your new shadow. 

Though you’d been resistant at first, storming into your mother’s office to state that you were a grown woman and didn’t need a babysitter just because someone tried to exploit an old sex tape that in your opinion wasn’t even that big of a deal, swiftly got squashed when a then stranger cleared his throat behind you and shared the more gruelling threats that had been made alongside the hacking. 

You’d hoped and prayed that he’d turn out to be a pain, that his personality could squash the feelings that fluttered inside of you whenever you looked at him, but unfortunately, he wasn’t an asshole. He was quiet, professional to a fault, but he wasn’t a dick. If anything, all of the silence and all of the glances to always keep track of you made the crush worse. It made you feel as if you were in a Jane Austen novel, reading between the lines of subtext your unreliable brain came up with.

“You tired?” he asked as a yawn rolled out of you. 

“Mhm,” you hummed behind the palm you had brought up to your lips. 

“The car’s ready to take you back to the embassy whenever you are.” 

A grateful smile twitched at your lip as you offered him a small nod of confirmation, “I’ll just go tell my mom.”

The ambassador, your mother, had her back turned to you as she talked business with a small group of people even though the hour had grown late. 

You waited for a sliver of a break before you tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.

“Hey, mom?” her palm found yours as she turned to look at you, “I’m gonna head home.”

“Oh, alright,” she leaned in and pressed a small peck to your cheek, “see you tomorrow, love.”

“Bye,” you gave her hand one last squeeze before heading out of the elegant venue, your guard still only a few paces behind you. 

A dusty drizzle met your skin as you exited onto the midnight streets of Paris. The sensation made you want to walk home, though you still followed Bucky to the black car already waiting and slipped in when he opened the back door for you. 

The light from the city reflected on the back of his metal hand as it gripped the steering wheel. You could faintly spot the prominent veins on the other one dance beneath the inked skin as it did the same, tattoos you still ached to discover just how far they stretched beneath his dark suit. 

Though soon your gaze flickered away from his silhouette as he drove, and fluttered out to the glittering cityscape rolling by, the vision of which swiftly lulled you to sleep. 

When you arrived home, Bucky’s steely eyes found your slumbering form in the rear-view mirror. You didn’t rouse when he opened your door and carefully picked you up into his arms. You didn’t wake either as he carried you inside, all the way up to your bedroom, and layed you down on your bed. 

Gently, he removed your heels and quietly placed them down on the hardwood floor before he grabbed your duvet and tugged it over your form. 

But just as he moved to leave your side, half asleep you caught his hand.

“Don’t go…” you murmured hazily, eyes still shut. 

And so, he didn’t.

Bucky simply reached for the tufted chair nearby and, as silently as he could, scooted it closer to the bed. 

Barely an hour passed before you woke. 

Before you even blinked open your eyes, your fingers began to slide down your body as the sinful dream you’d been blessed with still lingered in your foggy brain. 

Though when your eyes did flutter open and discovered the star of the dream sitting in a chair right next to you, your hand halted its voyage, and you sucked in a startled breath. 

“You okay?” he asked softly as you blinked a few times. 

“Uh,” the throbbing that still lingered from the dream probably wasn’t going to fade any faster with him sitting there with his unwavering stare, “yeah, I’m–, uhm…” you propped yourself up on your elbow before sitting up more, “I’m fine.” 

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“No, it wasn’t a–…” your sentence then crumbled as you sucked in a breath, “what are you doing watching me sleep?”

As you met his gaze, he then uttered, “you asked me to stay.”

Your eyes then widened, “I did?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh…” though you couldn’t recall, heat still began to bloom on your cheeks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

“It's alright,” his shoulders offered a faint shrug. 

Averting your gaze, you noticed that you were still in your dress. You weren’t quite sure if it pleased you or not that Bucky didn’t try to strip it off you, though it was probably less the moral intentions and more the fantasy of him peeling it off of you that swayed you. 

“Were you just planning on sleeping in that chair all night?” you asked. 

“No,” he shook his head, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping at all.” 

A tinge of guilt stung in your chest, “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I must have been asleep or something…” you then swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up. As your fingers raised up to pluck off your sparkling earrings, your feet began to carry you in the direction of your wardrobe. Dropping the jewellery off in a small porcelain bowl on the opposite bedside table, you then glanced back at your bodyguard and said, “you don’t have to stay any longer, you can go back to your room and get some sleep.” 

Offering you a nod, he then began to walk towards the door. 

Though, as you reached back to undo your dress, you abruptly uttered, “wait,” and he stopped before his steely fingers could enclose around the door handle. Turning to glance back at you, a bold request then hesitantly fell from your lips, “could you maybe help unzip me?”

He barely made a noise, simply hummed quietly in response before his slow stride carried him towards your frame as it twisted for your back to be turned to him.

When you felt his touch on the zipper, tugging it down ever so slowly, your breath came in ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut. You swore you felt his radiating heat seep into you as he exposed more of your goosebump-ridden spine. 

As the straps tumbled over your shoulders, your hands came up to your chest to hold it up even though you wished for nothing more than to let it drop before him.

And when the zipper finally reached its end, he lingered right behind you just long enough for you to catch the tether of it. Slowly, as if you were dealing with a skittish bird, you rotated around. You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you let yourself follow that magnetic pull you’d been trying to keep at bay. Your gaze flickered up to his lips as heated puffs of air seeped from your lungs and you slowly, hypnotically, inched closer. 

But then Bucky opened his mouth and said in a soft and quiet tone, “what are you doing?” making you halt, though not pull back. 

“Please don’t act like you don’t already know… I know you do…”

“You can’t,” he uttered, though didn’t move to walk away either as he captured your gaze, “we can’t, alright?”

“Why not?” you breathed, your eyes returning to his lips, “is it really that important for you to stay professional over everything else? Or is it that I’m just a job to you?” your heart felt as if it was gonna beat straight out of your chest, “you know I like you, I know you do. You notice everything, so of course you know. Am I right?”

A long exhale then flowed from his lungs before the faintest of nods tilted his head, “…yeah.”

“And I have eyes too, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” a shiver trickled down your spine, “so, are you really gonna just stand there and pretend you don’t feel something too? Just go back to your own room and continue to protect me like nothing’s going on?”

“Y/n, I can’t be with you,” he shook his head heavily, “you know I can’t.” 

Can’t or won’t?

Before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 

As if your quiet whispers melted him completely, your bodyguard breathed, “…fuck…” and the next thing you knew, he’d grabbed your face and seized your lips. 

It was like something inside of him had snapped, something you had shattered, with the way that he kissed you as if he’d been drowning and your lips were oxygen. 

As you lost yourself in the sensation of his tongue dancing across your own, you let the red dress drop down your body, passed the sheer stockings that clung around your thighs, to the floor. Like fire, one of his hands disappeared from your cheek and ran down your frame, grazing over the black lingerie that was now exposed.  

Though heated and hungry at first, the kiss soon softened into lighter pecks. 

With his metal hand, he held your face close to his as he withdrew from the kiss, an action you weren’t quite ready for as you dreamily trailed after him a bit, longing for his lips. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” his hot breath fanned across your features. 

“Yes,” you whispered swiftly. 

But as you dizzily blinked up at him, he simply hummed for you to elaborate, “hm?”

“Yes, I want you,” goosebumps tingled across your skin. 

“You want me to what?” his thumb swiped over your cheekbone. 

“I want you to–, to–…” you fumbled as you felt your desire drip and soak your panties, making them cling to your aching core. 

“To what, huh?” 

“To–… fuck me,” the embarrassingly desperate words tumbled out your mouth. 

“You want me to fuck you?” his unwavering stare briefly dropped to your parted lips.

“Yes,” the syllable rushed out of you. 

“Say it again,” he tilted his chin. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Louder,” his feet began to shift, causing yours to shuffle back as well. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“One more time,” his hand had dropped down to your jaw and his fingers curled slightly to dent your soft cheeks. 

“I want you to fuck me, please!” 

With the hold he had on you, he swiftly dipped down and pressed his lips to yours once more. The world then fell out from under you as his grasp scooped down your frame and plucked you up.

Your arms tangled around his neck right before your back collided with the closet door and your lips tilted away from his as a short squeak slipped out. The distance however lent Bucky to let his kisses dance down the length of your neck and across your cleavage, so perfectly framed by the sheer fabric of your bra. 

Though the hickeys he began to plant across your skin made your eyes roll in your skull, your fingers still captured his tie and tugged him back up for your lips to crash against his. As you moved to push his blazer off, his sturdy grip on you shifted though still held you close as the jacket fell from his burly frame and your palms swiftly scooped over his broad shoulders and down his chest, now one layer closer to letting you actually get to feel the furnace roiling beneath.

Cupping his face close, whimpers seeped out of you and vibrated against his lips as his fingers dug into your ass and rubbed your barely covered cunt over the palpable tent in his pants, your want surely drenching through your thin underwear and marking him as well. 

You almost didn’t realise that Bucky had moved till he dropped you down on the bed. Taking a step back, his tongue briefly flicked across his breathless lips as his fingers lifted to tug his tie off. 

Staring directly into your soul, he uttered, “take your bra off,” as he tossed the tie to the floor and your fingers scrambled to fulfil his request. When you flung the lingerie to the ground, right next to his crumbled tie, the cool night air kissed your pebbly nipples and Bucky let out a murmured curse right before bending down to press his lips to yours. 

Balanced on your elbows, you parted your lips and let his tongue sweep across your own. His touch coasted down your frame, barely granting your tits any attention before his grasp hooked around your thighs and yanked you closer to the edge of the mattress. A surprised yelp escaped you at first at the sudden shift, but as the sting of saliva, that had lingered and connected you from your sloppy kiss, snapped back against your skin, the short cry morphed into a fizzy giggle. 

The light laugh however faded away when you watched him sink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Your legs curled up even further on either side of you, though you weren’t quite sure if that was you or him pushing them up and cracking you open that much more. You could feel his breath hit your pantie-clad core as his gaze fixated on the soaked spot right over your puff. 

When his palm slid up your inner thigh, he only had to reach out his thumb for the broad pad to ghost over your covered slit. His eyes swiftly flickered up to capture yours, checking your reaction as you began to squirm from his feathery light touch. 

Hooking his finger in the gusset, he pulled it to the side and a glossy string stretched out and clung to the fabric as he revealed your glistening pussy. 

A breathy moan billowed out of you as he began to touch you, rolling your little pearl beneath his touch. Finding your eyes once more, he held your gaze as he then leaned down to press a gentle kiss over your clit. 

“This okay?” his voice vibrated against your bundle of nerves, making you twitch. 

“Mhm,” you nodded foggily, “you can do anything you want.”

“Anything?” his lips twitched into a smirk as his fingers stretched from where they were clutching your panties to brush over your button.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “fucking anything.” 

Your mouth then hung agape at the sight of him dipping down to ruthlessly taste your desire. It didn’t take long before he lost himself in you so fiercely that he momentarily leaned back only to rip your underwear off. Both of his hands curved around your bottom, raking across your skin as he drew you even closer to his tongue and dragged it through your wet folds.

Bumping his nose against your clit, he let himself make out with your cunt a moment longer before planting a farewell peck over your pearl and pulling back. A dollop of spit dropped from his lips down onto your pussy. Catching the drop with his fingers before it slid away, he rubbed it into your own juices and made you that much more of a mess. 

“O-oh,” you moaned as he slowly slid a long finger into you after teasing your weepy entrance enough to make you shiver. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned at the soppy sounds his efforts conjured.

Craning down to kiss your clit sloppily, Bucky then slid his ring finger in beside the other, curving them gently as he reached even deeper. 

When he momentarily retracted his digits to land a small tap over your puffy petals, the smile that bloomed on your face only egged him on further. Plugging you back up, he then retracted and repeated the slap though with more ferocity. 

Your head began to lull a bit as he brought his vibranium digits down to roll your clit and his fingers began to fuck you harder, not faster, but with an intent that made your pussy sing for him. 

With your thighs trembling, they nearly slammed shut as you felt the end near, but your bodyguard only slid his strong metal forearm over your legs, hooking it right under both of your bent knees, to keep you spread nice and open for him. 

The veins on the back of his inked hand popped from how fiercely his fingers rocked within you. 

Stretching his thumb up to strum your clit, he tried to sneak a third finger inside of you as he felt your walls begin to flutter around him. 

“That’s it, I’ve got you,” as he always did in every manner, evidently. A smile curved at his lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a symphony of moans flowed out of you with every last tender stroke he offered you to carry you over the edge, “atta girl.”

Melted against the sheets, you caught your breath as he planted one last peck on your inner thigh before standing back up. 

Slowly, with his gaze ever glued on you, he unbuttoned his shirt, gradually revealing the silver shine of the dog tags that hung from his neck and the tattoos that sprawled across his skin. Going all the way up from the hand still shiny with your essence, the ink swirled up his right arm, across his pecs, down his back and even curved over to his left shoulder and intentionally tangled into the gnarly scares sprouting from the border of his prosthetic. 

When the button-up hit the floor, his fingers drifted down to unhurriedly remove his belt, pulling it out of the loops, he let it join the shirt before he undid his pants and let his cock spring free. 

“Jesus christ…” your jaw couldn’t help but drop to the floor as your eyes fluttered at the intimidating reveal. 

Noticing the anxiety that peeked through your lust-ridden expression, his low voice found your ears, “what? Did you change your mind?” 

“No, I just–…” you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his fat cock as it throbbed before you, “I got a bit nervous all of a sudden.” 

“No reason to be nervous, baby,” he breathed out a smile as his fist curled around his girth.  

“Oh really?” you nearly began to laugh. 

“You’ll be fine,” drool threatened to escape the corner of your lips as he slowly began to stroke himself, “trust me.” 

“Really? Because I’m not so sure I’ll be able to take that…” 

“You will,” he uttered calmly as he dipped down to give you a kiss, “don’t worry,” a hand slid into your hair as he cradled your face and ushered your gaze to find his, “you know I’d never hurt you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you’ll be fine,” his thumb curved to sweep over your cheek a few times. 

“Yeah,” you gently nodded and repeated after him, “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled. Kissing you once more, he then pressed a peck to your forehead before his grasp found your hips and he suddenly flipped you around, onto your stomach. 

Helping you up onto your hands and knees, a hazy smile stretched across your features as he bent down over you and pressed kisses all along your spine. Dragging his bulbous tip through your sopping folds, he then teased you for so long, never granting you any more than a dizzying nudge, that whines began to escape from you.

“P-please,” you heard yourself beg as your fingers bunched up the sheets. 

“What?” he continued to flick and tap your swollen clit with the head of his heavy cock.

“I–I want it–, plea–, please fuck me,” you blubbered desperately. 

“Oh, now you want it, huh?” you could hear the smirk that dominated his face, “suddenly not so nervous anymore about me stretching you out, are you?”

“Bucky, plea–, o-oh–,” you felt your limbs tremble beneath you as he slipped the very tip inside. 

His efforts were so slow at first, gradually giving you more of his length and just shallowly fucking you till you blossomed and opened up for him. 

Gradually, his thrusts began to ease from a mind-numbingly slow pace to something that truly scrambled your brain. You soon lost yourself completely to the molten sensation of his fat girth steadily splitting you open. 

Though when he finally bottomed out within you, a shrill gasp slipped out passed your lips and your frame shuttered beneath him. 

Drawing his hips back just enough for you to regain the ability to fill your lungs with oxygen once more, you heard him murmur in your ear, “what, is it too much dick for you?” retraining his thrusts slightly, he kept his tip from kissing your cervix, “that better or is it still too deep for you?” his hands dented your hips.

“N-no, no, it feels so good, it’s just–,” a whimper slipped out of you and broke up your slurring, “you’re so fucking big, I’ve never–,” you felt like you could feel him all the way up in your throat, “no one’s ever been that fucking deep before.”

One of his hands curved down to your clit at the exact same time as your own did. As they met, he let your own fingers swirl over your puffy pearl as his simply lingered, till he suddenly grasped your wrist and gently led it away from your pussy, further up to your lower stomach. 

“That deep?” he pressed down on your palm and let you discover the dull bulge that formed in your belly at every one of his dizzying thrusts, “has no one ever stuffed you that full before? Not even one of your pretty toys you play with so often?”

“Nuh-uh,” you panted as his warm contact dissipated from your spine and he straightened back up. 

A gravelly moan slipped out past Bucky’s lips as he glanced down to see how tightly your creamy pussy was gripping onto his cock. Your fingers returned to the sheets as his wide palm came down to slap your ass, your back arching at the impact and consequently angling his efforts so that the details of his dick brushed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way imaginable. 

He only buried himself inside of you a few more times, his heavy sack tapping against your buzzing clit at every electric buck, till your pussy gushed around his fat girth. 

“There you go,” he pulled out only to insistently flick your puffy pearl with his tip, “fucking hell,” he then plunged his cock all the way back in before dragging it back out, “keep going,” ushering more squirt to drizzle out. He kept up the overwhelming pattern till your pussy stopped gushing for him, till he’d pushed you through the overstimulation and your cunt slowly began to relax again for him. Eventually, when he steadily withdrew from you, he craned his neck to relish in the way your little hole had stretched out and accommodated so well for him, it even winking sinfully at him every time he pulled out, “good fucking girl,” he growled at the sight, “told you so, you’d do just fine,” your shaky frame jolted as he slapped your ass again, “look at you now fucking gaping for me, christ…”

With a ring of your cream staining the base of his cock, he let himself return to your warmth for longer than just a few seconds, fucking you with such ferocity that your pliant form, still molten and unsteady from your second orgasm, collapsed onto the mattress below. 

Though he successfully caught you before you could slip off his cock entirely, he still let you drop down on the bed, though softened the fall for you, before he followed suit. 

The weight of him on top of you felt so comforting and soothed on your tingly skin.

“You okay?” he kissed your cheek before spreading your stocking-clad legs with his own. 

“Hm,” you nodded foggily and felt yourself drool onto the sheets as he squished you further into the mattress.

Your shaky moans filled the bedroom as he slid back inside, “fuck, you feel so good…” sloppily nipping just below your ear before he picked up his pace. 

The chain that dangled from his neck felt cool on your skin and acted as a stark contrast to how hot his body felt pressed against your back. 

“You think you can be a good girl and cum for me again?” he groaned into your ear as his efforts echoed sloppily, “let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze around me one last time?”

“I-I don’t know,” you trembled beneath him, every one of his deep thrusts making you jolt and gasp for air as he was practically splitting you in half. 

“You don’t know?” he sweetly whispered in your ear as he curled his arms under you. One hand slid under your tit and caught your pebbly nipple in a rude pinch while the other soared down to your sore and swollen clit, “can you try for me? Try and cum again,” your eyes had fallen completely shut, so your whole reality had just become Bucky’s reassuring weight, his tantalising efforts, and his sinful whispers that seeped directly into your soul, “try and squirt for me one last time, sweetheart.” 

And so, you did. It didn’t even take that long before you tumbled over one last time and your pussy creamed for him, drenching the already damp sheets beneath you, as he swiftly came as well, throbbing deep within your clenching cunt and filling your little hole up to the brim till it tried to leak and escape around his girth.

His heavy pants faded from your ear as he slowly crawled off of you, cascading a tender trail of kisses all the way down your body till he gently retraced his track of pecks and settled down next to you. Fluttering your eyes open as his palm slid up to your heated cheek, he gazed into your hazy eyes for a moment before leaning in to softly press his lips to your own. 

You wanted to curl in closer to his frame, but your body was so exhausted that you could barely raise your pinkie finger. Fortunately though, as you layed there in wordless wonder, Bucky’s arms draped around you as he scooted in close, hugging you to him and gently caressing your skin as you continued to blink back into his ocean eyes, not uttering a word out of fear that you’d ruin the blissful moment.

After perhaps a small eternity had passed, he briefly raised his head up slightly to catch sight of the small clock on your bedside table. 

“There’s still a few more hours left before the sunrise…” he settled back down beside you.

“Oh, yeah?” a soft smile tilted up your lips as his touch began to travel south. 

“Yeah,” his lips gently parted in a silent moan as his fingers slid through your sore folds. His stare was transfixed on how your brows knitted together and a quiet hiss slipped out of you as he swirled over your sensitivity, playing with the hot load he’d pumped into you as it slowly leaked out, one of his digits too brash not to try and stuff it back inside, “what do you think?” sharing your breath, he inched in and let his nose nuzzle against your own, “do you want me to be yours just a little bit longer or would you rather I’d return to my own bed?” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[eowyn-igneelcheshire]

Reblog this, spread the word

For anyone who is unaware, MAP means "minor attracted person" though this is nothing but a false name Pedophiles use in attempt to weasel their way into the Queer community. If you see anyone using this flag, block them and report them if you can.

Edit: I've seen a lot of people mention this so I'd like to state it here as well so more people can see it. 1) DO NOT REFER TO PEDOPHILES AS "MAPS". The only reason I used it here was to make people aware of what it means in this context. Children are unfortunately extremely likely to run into pedophiles on the internet (I myself was contacted by several back when I was still a minor, some before I even knew what "map" flags were). Some- not all, but some- are very open about being pedophiles, and of the ones who are open about it, most hide themselves behind the title "Minor Attracted Person" and use the "pride" flags they and 4chan users create. I have also run into these kinds of pedophiles on the internet and I only knew that they weren't safe and I needed to block them because I knew about the "map" thing and I recognized some of their flags. Actually using it when talking about pedophiles does nothing but help them hide and it also hurts the animation community. Which brings me to point 2) the term "MAP" in animation is an acronym for "Multi Animator Project". If you see an animation video with MAP in the title it simply means that the video was made in a collaboration between several animators, it is in no way related to pedophiles or pedophilia. We need to stop calling pedophiles MAPs both to stop giving them an "innocent" sounding title and to stop hurting the animators who are simply trying to keep their titles short and simple.

(where I got this image: https://pin.it/6SgjdcX)

@sanityshorror @sobertober6969 thought you two would want to share this with your followers

[burntoutdaydreamer]

Weird Brain Hacks That Help Me Write

I'm a consistently inconsistent writer/aspiring novelist, member of the burnt-out-gifted-kid-to-adult-ADHD-diagnosis-pipeline, recently unemployed overachiever, and person who's sick of hearing the conventional neurotypical advice to dealing with writer's block (i.e. "write every single day," or "there's no such thing as writer's block- if you're struggling to write, just write" Like F*CK THAT. Thank you, Brenda, why don't you go and tell someone with diabetes to just start producing more insulin?)

I've yet to get to a point in my life where I'm able to consistently write at the pace I want to, but I've come a long way from where I was a few years ago. In the past five years I've written two drafts of a 130,000 word fantasy novel (currently working on the third) and I'm about 50,000 words in on the sequel. I've hit a bit of a snag recently, but now that I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands, I'm hoping to revamp things and return to the basics that have gotten me to this point and I thought I might share.

1) My first draft stays between me and God

I find that I and a lot of other writers unfortunately have gotten it into our heads that first drafts are supposed to resemble the finished product and that revisions are only for fixing minor mistakes. Therefore, if our first draft sucks that must mean we suck as writers and having to rewrite things from scratch means that means our first draft is a failure.

I'm here to say that is one of the most detrimental mentalities you can have as a writer.

Ever try drawing a circle? You know how when you try to free-hand draw a perfect circle in one go, it never turns out right? Whereas if you scribble, say, ten circles on top of one another really quickly and then erase the messy lines until it looks like you drew a circle with a singular line, it ends up looking pretty decent?

Yeah. That's what the drafting process is.

Your first draft is supposed to suck. I don't care who you are, but you're never going to write a perfect first draft, especially if you're inexperienced. The purpose of the first draft is to lay down a semi-workable foundation. A really loose, messy sketch if you will. Get it all down on paper, even if it turns out to be the most cliche, cringe-inducing writing you've ever done. You can work out those kinks in the later drafts. The hardest part of the first draft is the most crucial part: getting started. Don't stress yourself out and make it even harder than it already is.

If that means making a promise to yourself that no one other than you will ever read your first draft unless it's over your cold, dead body, so be it.

2) Tell perfectionism to screw off by writing with a pen

I used to exclusively write with pencil until I realized I was spending more time erasing instead of writing.

Writing with a pen keeps me from editing while I right. Like, sometimes I'll have to cross something out or make notes in the margins, but unlike erasing and rewriting, this leaves the page looking like a disaster zone and that's a good thing.

If my writing looks like a complete mess on paper, that helps me move past the perfectionist paralysis and just focus on getting words down on the page. Somehow seeing a page full of chicken scratch makes me less worried about making my writing all perfect and pretty- and that helps me get on with my main goal of fleshing out ideas and getting words on a page.

3) It's okay to leave things blank when you can't think of the right word

My writing, especially my first draft, is often filled with ___ and .... and (insert name here) and red text that reads like stage directions because I can't think of what is supposed to go there or the correct way to write it.

I found it helps to treat my writing like I do multiple choice tests. Can't think of the right answer? Just skip it. Circle it, come back to it later, but don't let one tricky question stall you to the point where you run out of brain power or run out of time to answer the other questions.

If I'm on a role, I'm not gonna waste it by trying to remember that exact word that I need or figure out the right transition into the next scene or paragraph. I'm just going to leave it blank, mark to myself that I'll need to fix the problem later, and move on.

Trust me. This helps me sooooo much with staying on a roll.

4) Write Out of Order

This may not be for everyone, but it works wonders for me.

Sure, the story your writing may need to progress chronologically, but does that mean you need to write it chronologically? No. It just needs to be written.

I generally don't do this as much for editing, but for writing, so long as you're making progress, it doesn't matter if it's in the right order. Can't think of how to structure Chapter 2, but you have a pretty good idea of how your story's going to end? Write the ending then. You'll have to go back and write Chapter 2 eventually, but if you're feeling more motivated to write a completely different part of the book, who's to say you can't do that?

When I'm working on a project, I start off with a single document that I title "Scrap for (Project Title)" and then just write whatever comes to mind, in whatever order. Once I've gotten enough to work with, then I start outlining my plot and predicting how many chapters I'm going to need. Then, I create separate google docs for each individual chapter and work on them in whatever order I feel like, often leaving several partially complete as I jump from one to the other. Then, as each one gets finished, I copy and paste the chapter into the full manuscript document. This means that the official "draft" could have Chapters 1 and 9, but completely be missing Chapters 2-8, and that's fine. It's not like anyone will ever know once I finish it.

Sorry for the absurdly long post. Hopes this helps someone. Maybe I'll share more tricks in the future.

[dernier-mystere]

! SPOILER WARNING FOR 2.5 UPDATE! READ WITH CAUTION ! summary: the yaoqing trio returns back to the yaoqing, though things are a little different, being an alchemist in the alchemy commission, you receive the instructions and diagnosis from the cauldron master of the luofu, lingsha, about jiaoqiu's condition and what needs to be prepared for him and his treatment plan. despite being someone who worked a few times with the healer, you find yourself assigning treatments to him for once, despite his stubbornness and negligence when it came to his own health. pairing: jiaoqiu x alchemist!foxian!reader (afab) warnings: slight gore, injury descriptions word count: 3.4k a/n: how are we feeling jiaoqiu fans? a mess? :,) me too <3 so we need some comfort yes <3 the idea is based on an idea oc that was an alchemist and as the xianzhou yaoqing is mostly foxians, it makes sense right? hope you enjoy it <3 sorry for the medicinal rambling too! sorry if this may seem ooc, I feel so rusty with writing these days... ^^; I plan to write some proper fluff, I apologise this isn't lovey dovey, if anyone has suggestions please send them please support me by following or sharing! it's much appreciated! <3 twitter/x: @derniermystere ao3: Dernier_Mystere

The diagnosis was almost painful to read, you knew the trio was reckless, and a part of you thought it would be the Merlin’s Claw that would come back with the injuries, not Jiaoqiu. Even Moze who lingered in the shadow of the General had his incident report of injuries, most of the events that had occurred on the Luofu remained on the hush, so unfortunately, it left you and numerous other healers in great distress when the commission received the outpatient details and care instructions for the pink-haired foxian. Toxins in the wounds have caused surrounding flesh to decay and atrophy… acute shock from severe blood loss…? Disturbed blood circulation from Tumbledust results in disturbed blood circulation, massive internal bleeding, neurological atrophy and optic neuropathy, leading to… blindness. These were just a few lines written in his injury reports, you felt your eyelids flicker in concern at the words, each description made your lips crease further into a frown, your heart wavering as you could only imagine the pain he would’ve struggled with in that short period, not only ingesting a lethal amount of Tumbleweed but also baring the injuries sustained by the Borisin Warhead, Hoolay. Not to mention there were found traces of Lupotoxin still present in his bloodstream, in short, he danced on the thin line between life and death, a second too late, and he would have died an agonising death.

As you sat in the cool room of your examination office, the rhythmic ticker a counterpoint to the steady hum of the medical equipment in the room still trying to convince yourself how Jiaoqiu remained in such good spirits, and oddly with a good appetite despite his situation… his calmness and sly exterior made you fear the worse, after all, he hid a lot of his emotions, using his fox-like smile as a mask to pretend all was fine, even if inside he could have been begging for a semblance of hope. Your e/c gaze flickered up to the Foxian who hummed softly, sitting on the examination table with a Gaiwan* in his hands, as he curiously took in a whiff of the scent of the tea, swirling it occasionally in his hand as he tried to depict what herbs were in it. “Not much to say honestly, I feel quite fine besides the fact, I have been told not to eat spicy food… it’s truly a torturous treatment,” his voice was calm, yet the mention of not being allowed to eat his favourite food made him click his tongue, one of his long ears flicking in annoyance, “But, other than that, I am quite alright,” 

Your eyes squinted as you observed him talking to the pot plant in the corner of your examination room while you were seated on the other side of him, yet… you felt your insides soften that, he was still adjusting to his new condition after all. “Master Jiaoqiu, you know ingesting amounts of spicy food will only increase inflammation of your wounds.” You spoke softly, choosing not to comment further that he was talking to the plant rather than yourself. Jiaoqiu’s ears flicked in your direction rapidly, as he quickly adjusted himself to face the direction your voice came from, acting as if he knew the whole time you were seated there, it made you softly giggle in amusement as you slowly lit a stick of Dreambranch Incense in the office, in hopes of providing calmness to the mind during his routine follow up examination.  

“You always say you’re quite alright to avoid unnecessary long appointments, who dropped you off today? Was it the Merlin’s Claw or Moze?” You teased, prepping the small station beside him with all the necessary tools and treatment needs. Jiaoqiu’s tail flicked in annoyance as he crossed his arms, followed by a tiny pout on his lips, “I will have you know, no one dropped me off, Thank you.” His tone was almost childish and petty, “I came as instructed by the Cauldron Master of the Luofu, nothing more than a routine check-up.” He clarified, yet the creases in his brows seemed to convince you further that someone made him actually arrive at his scheduled appointment. “For a healer, Master Jiaoqiu… you should always look after yourself before treating others.” You commented, your fluffy tail swaying behind you in amusement as you spoke, enjoying the small amount of petty banter with the Foxian healer who had left the field a while ago now. Being a long-life species, a mere few years seemed to fly by in the blink of an eye, but when one formed friendships or any kind of relationship when they left or moved on, it felt as if they had left for centuries, this was no different to Jiaoqiu. His sassy nature and his usual greeting with a cunning smile were oddly something you missed, but deep down, you knew the losses on the battlefield tore and ate away at his heart, leaving nothing but emptiness, a path of Nihility to creep in. Some days, you found yourself sitting on the stairs of the commission, looking at the fake night sky of the Yaoqing, wondering if your research and treatments meant really nothing in the end. Countless patients slipped between your fingers like sand, no matter how hard you tried to grab the delicate granules, it would still slip through. The many nights where you prayed to Lan or any aeon to hear your pleas and silent begs to help a young patient that was slowly succumbing to the effects of Mara, the way their limbs twisted un-naturally, root-like appendages growing from his body like a deformity as they slowly lost their mind day-by-day, yet none of them cast their gaze on you or your pleads… they always replied in a numbing silence. You felt his pain… you sympathised with his feelings for those who were lost in battle… You could treat a thousand patients, but what was the point if they returned to the battlefield and lost their lives in the end… was their sacrifice in vain? These were the many questions that went through your mind on a daily, and something you assumed most alchemists thought. 

Your eyes fluttered closed as you shook your head to dismiss the darkening thoughts, you forced yourself to read over the letter submitted by Lingsha. As written in his treatment plan, you were to clean his wounds with Pathovore bugs, before applying liberal amounts of medication and dress them up firmly. As well as take a deeper examination of his blindness and relay any suggestions to her for possible treatments of his blindness. “Well, I know you want this to be done quickly, so I will start with the treatment of the wounds, Master Jiaoqiu, then if possible, I would like to examine your eyes…?” You asked hesitantly, your h/c ears pinning back against your head as you cautiously asked him, you honestly didn’t know why you were nervous, it was your job… but he had only recently just lost his vision, was it a touchy subject? Or maybe would flat-out refuse and say it was nothing.  

Jiaoqiu simply remained silent as he continued to hold on to the delicate clay cup, he gave the tea one last sip before he gently pressed the edge of his hand along the surface of the table to confirm he could safely place his cup upon it, “Why are you concerned, Y/N? it’s your job after all. Do what you need. For once, I am simply the patient, and you’re my healer now, are you not?” He spoke up, turning to face in your direction, though you could hear the slight hesitation laced in the last few syllables of his words but you slowly nodded in reply, not that he could see it. 

The initial examination was rather simple, you had to look over his wounds, the deep lacerations on his chest, the state of his collarbone, checking him for any signs of Lycanthropic symptoms which came in the forms of excessive hair growth, elongation of the canine teeth, hostility (namely to Foxians) and a heightened increase of Lupitoxin which are evident in a blood rage. Further examination of his red blood cell, Platelets and the protein count in his plasma, to gauge how well his blood would coagulate over time, while the effects of consuming Tumbledust has significantly lowered the count, he was slowly making progress as there were some improvements. While it wasn’t much, it was better than none… 

“So far, you seem to be on the road of recovering… slow, but I am sure we can get there eventually, there has been a minimal increase in your plasma counts, and platelets, but not much to say you can return to handling sharp objects… I am hoping you’re not, Master Jiaoqiu, and you have no signs of Lycanthropy so that rules out any further conclusion of you becoming a borisin.” You explained, all while scribbling on his patient forms that would be sent back to Cauldron master Lingsha, and further approval by Head Alchemist on the Yaoqing, Yingyue. “With this, I would like you to be placed on a higher dose of anti-inflammatories, to help reduce the swelling in your wounds. That, or need I remind you that you are not to ingest spicy foods, Master Jiaoqiu.” You slowly raised a brow at him as he turned to you, pulling out his fan that was underneath his alchemy commission uniform that he had removed so you could treat his injuries. He delicately fanned himself a few times, before hiding his lips behind the coloured feathers. 

“I would never betray the doctors’ words, no knives or spicy food here. Are you insinuating that your patient ingested spicy foods? Y/N you wound me… I would never,” He stated with a cunning smile pulling at his lips behind that fan, his tail swaying behind him as he took in the results of his examination. “But is it really my fault that Moze had hotpot, I couldn’t turn down such a request, even Feixiao was there.” He soon added, nodding his head innocently as his ears twitched in your direction. 

“So you did have Spicy food, is that what you're telling me?” You pressed, raising a brow as he kept fanning himself, concealing his smile. 

“I never said that, I just said that Moze might have offered it to me. But as such a good patient, I never touched a drop. I instead had to sit and watch my so-called friends enjoy a hotpot in front of me, it was quite cruel, really…” His fluffy ears drooped down, as he dramatically acted as if it had taken a toll on him that he couldn’t have some. Your expression fell into a deadpanned glare as he kept innocently fanning himself, humming all innocently, you knew that this sly foxian had made the hotpot himself and threw the blame at Moze to get off any kind of lecture. You feigned a sigh in defeat as you allowed him to win at his little game, “Alright, whatever the patient says… but know your slight increase of white blood cells, and redness on your laceration tells me otherwise,” You simply pointed out as you began working on removing the now loosened bandages around his shoulders and chest, you had seen your fair share of injuries and wounds, but the deep claw marks along his chest with lingering parts of decaying flesh seemed to leave a deep pang in your heart… reading about his injuries were bad enough, but seeing them in person was just as bad. 

The audacity he had as he simply hummed in reply and with a nonchalant shrug, “I have no idea what you’re insinuating here, doctor,” He added, placing his fan down to reveal that sly fox-like grin, as he lifted his head proudly, more so that you could work on his wounds better. But upon sensing your concern with his wounds, Jiaoqiu slowly fell into silence as he turned away, “This is nothing. I can handle this, there is no need to look at me with… pity.” 

You felt an all-familiar annoyance stir inside you as if small flicking flames lapped at the insides of your chest as your movements slowed down, “It isn’t pity… it was concern Jiaoqiu when the incident reports were handed to us, it was worrying… especially when there was no news or context from the Luofu. I knew something was covered up, and it involved Hoolay, something for sure went wrong… it may not be my place to ask what happened, but… You shouldn’t bare yourself to a wolf's fangs… and ingest Tumbleweed… even if you had a plan.” you whispered, gripping the bundle of bandages in your hands that you had removed, “You could have died, then what-” 

“I would have died fulfilled and content, Y/N.” He cut her off, a heavy sigh ruminating from his chest as he still refused to face you entirely, his brow furrowing in annoyance as he refused to accept your concern for him. 

“Would you really say that?” You pressed, your shoulders slouching as you continued to remove the last of the bandages to fully observe the wound in its entirety. Yet unlike before, you weren’t phased, instead, your heart simply felt like it was crumbling at his words. However, Jiaoqiu remained silent when you pressed him, his ears folding back a tad, it was a sign that you were right in some way. Despite the deafening silence, you continued to work on him, applying the Pathovore Bugs onto the rotting parts of his wounds, all while she delicately ran her scalpel over the unhealthy flesh to promote excess skin growth. Jiaoqiu grunted softly, leaning back onto his arms as he tried to push himself through the uncomfortable sensation, he didn’t want to be seen as weak or vulnerable, even though he was the one knocking on death's door. Yet his stubbornness to admit anything or the fact that for once he required treatment was unyielding, even when he was in pain. 

The silence continued to hover between them, once playful banter turned to a darkened cloud of tension, but, Jiaoqiu managed to face Y/N once more, parting his lips as he tried to find the words to say something, “Why do you care so much. Don’t they say laying your life out on the path of the hunt is a blessing…?” He managed to whisper out, his voice almost weak and one could even say vulnerable. Y/N glanced up, but unlike the look of annoyance or a frown, she offered him a compassionate gaze, “We are both healers, different kinds sure, but in the end, we are here to help those in need. I know you have lost many patients, as have I… I may not have been through or seen what you have on the Front Lines… but we share the same burdens of what we do is the right thing…” Your voice was soft, yet anyone could hear the way your words seemed to break through the ragged breaths you took in as you tried to formulate each word with sincerity, “But… we… no, you shouldn’t allow yourself to go through such measures… General Feixiao is already strong on her own, and your patient can only go as far as they can if their healer is also healthy, I have seen too many people die over nothing to claim they did so in the name of The Hunt… but it felt like they were throwing themselves away.” 

You gently removed the bugs, placing them in a glass beaker as you kept talking, “As I said… I don’t know what happened on the Luofu… but I know, you shouldn’t have risked yourself at such a high stake. There is always an alternative, another way to do things, picking the dangerous path isn’t always the right way.” You whispered, head now falling downwards as your ears drooped once more. You had seen so many soldiers come back from the battlefields injured and proclaiming proudly that if they died, they did so for The Aeon Lan, but, it more so felt like they were throwing themselves at the denizens of Abundance without another thought of a better strategy. Y/N slowly bit on her bottom lip as she continued with the treatment by applying liberal amounts of the ointment onto his wounds, before securely wrapping them up in bandages. 

During the quiet moment as Y/N worked, Jiaoqiu found himself sighing once more, shaking his head as his expression softened slightly to that of contentment. “You might have been right, I could have found another way… but I made it, did I not?” He replied in a lighter tone, even if you swatted his side with the flick of your fluffy tail, “You’re just as reckless as the Merlin’s Claw, she is rubbing off on you. You know… there would be a lot of people upset if you had died… I am sure even Moze would be upset in his way… you may have been fulfilled as you say, but what about the others that care for you?” you added, making sure that each one of his wounds was fully covered, before you soon sat back in your chair, your mind also wanted to add ‘what about me?’ yet, you didn’t. The Foxian offered you a sad smile, as he turned to the direction of the pot plant, “You’re not wrong, Y/N.” He reluctantly whispered, his voice holding a sense of vulnerability yet again, each word spoken like a prayer, with an ear twitch he turned back to you, this time with a more genuine smile.

“I am sure you would have been deeply hurt. To think during your training you said you hated me and my spicy food you could smell from a mile away…” His demeanour shifted to his usual self, sly and jabbing, which seemed to stir you up, evident as your tail swished around in annoyance as you finished up with his wounds, giving him the space he needed to change back into his clothes. “Stop being snarky… you seriously need to take better care of yourself.” You huffed as you turned to clean your instruments, all while he resumed fanning his delicate face once more, his soft pink hair flowing with each motion of his fan as he continued that same mocking smile. “I know. I can’t promise anything.” He hummed, for once he spoke truthfully, “But, I will do my best, I have no guarantees.” 

“That's all I wanted to hear, Jiaoqiu.” Your shoulders eased up and relaxed at his words, her heart feeling ever so lighter. 

“You know, you dropped the formalities halfway, this is quite intimate, Y/N, I am almost flattered, after many years and now you call me by my name and not Master Jiaoqiu,” As usual he tried his best to get under your skin, still calmly fanning himself. He expected you to retaliate or shoot back another snarky comment, yet you did something that surprised him… You gently hugged him, wrapping your arms around his lower torso to avoid touching his wound, as much as he wanted to open his eyes in surprise, the Foxian instead felt his expression melt into a soft fondness, one that wasn’t all that often seen. “You were that worried?” He finally admitted, moving one of his hands to delicately brush against your back soothingly. 

“Just promise me you will be more careful next time,” you whispered faintly, near one of his long ears that twitched at your words, his tail swaying side-to-side. 

“I can’t guarantee anything… but, if I get hugged like this, I might consider it.” He purred, still fanning the two of you with his fan, blissfully unaware of the edge of the fan catching a lit with the sizzling of fire lapping at the tips. Jiaoqiu quickly moved the fan to stop the fire from continuing with a silent huff of annoyance, “Maybe we could even go for some hotpot sometime?” 

You wanted to say he wasn’t allowed spicy food, but you were content from his words, you simply hoped that one day, he would take your words to heart, if not for your own sake, but maybe for those that were close to him…

[toothfund]

Help my best friend keep their teeth!

Hey there. My name's Tulip and I made this blog as a way to boost the GoFundMe campaign to raise funds for my best friend Peyton's dental expenses.

Peyton and I have known each other for seven years now, and in that time I've watched them endure severe dental issues that would be utterly debilitating to anyone else. The prohibitive cost and psychological distress kept Peyton from receiving the care they desperately needed, and as such they spent several years living with multiple broken teeth. It was only after the pain had gotten so bad that they were unable to eat, sleep, or think clearly that they were able to get to a dentist. They ended up having two teeth extracted. I was glad to see them in less pain, but it made me feel sick to think that we could've saved their teeth had they been treated sooner. I decided that I couldn't bear to see my friend live with this burden any longer, and I've been doing everything I can to try and raise the funds for them.

Since the GoFundMe launched they've been able to get the most pressing work done, thankfully, but there's still a way's to go before they're pain-free and healthy. Last week we officially raised enough for Peyton's third procedure (Yippee!!) and we're now moving on to funding the fourth, which'll be a hefty $964.00. They'll be getting this work done in mid May, so that leaves us with about a month to raise the funds.

I'm sure many of you reading this have personally experienced mouth pain, so you can imagine how hard this has been on Peyton. I don't want them to have to worry about choosing between going into debt or keeping their teeth. Any amount donated will put us that much closer to bringing them further relief. If you can’t donate, please consider sharing--even if you don't think anyone will see. Thank you for reading!

Some tooth art by Peyton, see more here.

[shirefantasies]

How the Fellowship Act Around Their Crush (GN!Reader)

Hello friends! Kicking off my blog with some cute headcanons for my favorite people- hope you enjoy 😄

Aragorn

✧ One of the least obvious for sure 😅 we love a strong silent type but unfortunately that means you’ll have to be reading in on his actions

✧ Checks in on you a lot, just making sure you’re feeling alright and not hiding any burdens because he wants to carry those.

✧ Teaches you all he knows about the world’s botany when he notices your curiosity, pointing out what plants are poisonous, which the elves use for healing, and which can be made into tea. Snags a few to make you said tea at the earliest convenience 😌

✧ Will be the one to drape his cloak over you if you get cold. Not the type to stop others from doing it, but boy will he be the fastest by far!

✧ Has the habit of letting his fingers linger over yours just a bit longer than necessary when he hands things off to you or presses small items into your hands.

✧ Is the best with his words. He’ll reassure you if you feel insecure that you have a strength and beauty you bring to this world that no one else does, that the time you are in does not define you as a whole, that all have roles to play here.

Legolas

✧ Least obvious part 2! Another who is more silent about things…at least at first! If you understand Elvish, you may catch him searching for advice from Aragorn on if he should speak of it or not.

✧ Almost always defers to your word/opinion whether it’s where to stop or simply how you’d like to spend the rest of the evening.

✧ Shows off just a smidge 🤏🏻 when he knows you’re looking, like no, he doesn’t have to impale three orcs with the same arrow three different ways but did you think it was cool? Then yes he did. Still his face colors with surprised, joy, and amusement when you react with awe.

✧ “Wow, beautiful,” you breathe as your eyes scan the stars, glittering constellations and distant galaxies winking above you. “Indeed,” Legolas responds softly, but if you happen to peer at him from the peripheries of your vision at just the right time you’ll see the glance he surreptitiously slides to you.

✧ Holds open every door for you, slides back every chair, serves you at every meal, like this prince is peak gentleman and nothing less!

✧ Whispers joking observations about the rest of the fellowship, especially Gimli, that he usually keeps to himself into your ear as you sit together during mealtimes. This creates a whole slew of inside jokes between you two and much confusion over what you could possibly be laughing at.

Boromir

✧ Not over-the-top, but he figures what’s the point if you never figure anything out? Definitely wants to drop hints for you 😌

✧ Places a kiss to the back of your hand when he first meets you, telling you it is truly an honor.

✧ “Here, allow me,” he’ll say as he gently takes whatever burden you bear whether it’s bundles of firewood or even your bag on a particular rough day of travel.

✧ Happily shares tales of Gondor’s splendor with you and insists he’ll take you there and show you himself someday. Asks in turn for stories of your home and all your favorite things about it. Even if he can never visit, Boromir is determined to find a way to bring a piece of your home to you someday- anything to make you feel like you’re there again.

✧ Offers you his arm when you two walk side-by-side, guiding you with a firm, warm grip that keeps you feeling secure.

✧ Always places himself between you and danger, stepping in front of you with his sword and shield in hands and even shifting you back with a hand upon your waist.

Gimli

✧ You’re going to figure it out pretty quickly. He’e comically vocal as we all know, but also incredibly smooth when he wants to be…and boy does he want to be 👀

✧ Drops a lot of hints about how dwarves are the warmest, heartiest lovers and best providing partners! “We’ve the grandest of halls and sturdiest of bodies, after all!”

✧ Literally always has your back, like he is more aware of any threats to you than you are. It’s nearly impossible to count how many times he’s slashed an orc you hadn’t even seen off your back, giving you a triumphant nod and an “Anytime, Lassie/Laddie!”

✧ Laughs at every single joke you tell so hard you can’t help but puff up in pride at your sense of humor, nudging your shoulder with his.

✧ “Oh, stay still, you’ve got something in your hair…” Proceeds to remove it in the most tender and intimate manner you’ve ever experienced.

✧ Asks you to look him in the eyes before a big fight because, in his words, if that’s the last thing he looks upon before going out it’ll all be worth it.

Frodo

✧ Has no idea what he is doing honestly. Has never felt this way before and wasn’t sure if he ever would, so his demeanor around you suddenly becomes shy, almost withdrawn.

✧ Your self-appointed nurse. Tends your wounds silently but with the most caring, gentle touch and gaze fluttering back and forth between your wound and your expression with those big blue eyes.

✧ Goes on walks every now and again when everybody’s camped. After a while of seeing you watch him off, Frodo plucks up the courage to invite you to join him on one.

✧ Embarrassed as he is at first, he is encouraged by your eager eyes when you ask what he’s reading, shyly admitting it’s some poetry he loves. Ends up reciting you the whole thing, looking into your eyes intently as he wishes to actually be confessing each of those flowery words.

✧ Grabs your hand to lead you places whenever he finds something you just have to see! Blushes about it after the fact but in the moment the excitement just takes over him and he doesn’t even think about it.

✧ Begins sharing concerns and deeper thoughts with you once he trusts you as a sort of sign of that feeling. He hopes you understand that he doesn’t disclose to just anyone.

Sam

✧ He wants to talk to you so bad, but also you’re the most gorgeous person he’s ever seen and how does he do that??? So sweet and attentive with his gaze when you do talk, so that could clue you in.

✧ He definitely gives you the biggest and best of anything he prepares, smiling softly at you as he dishes it up!

✧ Offers to tell you stories of The Shire, especially if you’ve never visited it yourself, and you can see the love for it in his eyes as much as you can hear it in his voice. Shares a few about his old Gaffer, too!

✧ Trips over his words from time to time. He’ll accidentally say the wrong thing and nervously try to laugh it off not realizing how adorable he looks when he blushes ☺️

✧ Sees a pretty flower on the road and immediately thinks of you, plucking it up and twirling it thoughtfully before extending it your way gently, naming his discovery as he does so.

✧ Would give you the shirt off his back if you wanted or needed. Offers you things from his bags a lot ranging from supplies that can ease your passage on this trip to the last of the sweets from The Shire he’d thrown in his pack pockets. Any task you don’t want to do Sam is jumping up to do for you!

Merry

✧ Medium obvious because he makes it his mission to get close to you and hype you up. If you’re oblivious or cynical it could be mistaken as him just being friendly, but it can’t come as a shock the way he’s so eager for your presence!

✧ Acts like you being amazing at things you’ve never even done is a foregone conclusion, like it could be your first time firing with a bow and he’ll be telling everyone what a natural you’ll be, urging you to go on and show them!

✧ Faintly embodies the old adage ‘if they tease you, that means they like you’. He sometimes makes up stories to see if you believe him, chuckling merrily when you do but quickly giving up the ghost again so you don’t have the wrong idea. Others he’ll just poke fun at things you say and egg all of your jokes on, too!

✧ Winks at you on the off time you two make eye contact with each other.

✧ Holds out his hand to you and gives a small bow every time he invites you to dance, asking if he may have it with a devilishly charming grin before he pulls you close.

✧ Whisks you away when he wants you to himself, taking you on a sightseeing adventure or even just foraging. Turns it into an over-the-top skit of him searching and protecting you from the threats of the forest that has you giggling!

Pippin

✧ Oh, you’ll be able to tell! He tries his best to be smooth and is super complimentary and generally wants to be around you 25/8. Even if it comes across goofy, you have to give him props for being forward with his intentions 😌

✧ Practically jumps out of his seat to be the one to help you with anything, whether it’s going fishing, gathering berries or firewood, getting some training in…you name it, he wants to be there for you if you need him!

✧ You may catch him staring at you, whether it’s in awe of your beauty or just straight-up checking you out depends on his mood, but his eyes are almost always flicking back to you in idleness.

✧ Remembers every single detail you share about yourself, like EVERY SINGLE ONE. Knows all your preferences by heart and frequently suggests playing your favorite game or offering to sing your favorite song, likely with an invitation to dance too! Pippin will chime in about your dislikes or allergies before even you can.

✧ Casually begins breaking touch barriers with small gestures like putting a hand on your shoulder during a mock apology for his cousin’s behavior or sitting with your arms brushing. If you don’t seem to mind, he’ll get bolder, slinging an arm over your shoulders during a jolly moment!

✧ Not afraid of compliments, definitely not! Unabashedly (well, mostly anyway, he hides a blush well) tells you that color looks great on you or what a pretty face you’ve got just in casual conversation.

[clemswinecorner]

Datenight [George Clarkey]

Summary: George and Y/N go on a date, without any of their friends knowing they're dating. Or do some of them?

Wordcount: 1k

Warnings: sexual innuendos and alcohol, other than that it's fine

Based on this request, as a response to neat :)

Main Masterlist

It wasn’t the first time they were out in public for a date, and they were close enough friends for it to not be seen as one. It was, however, the first time they were out in Central London, where any of their friends could decide to go to the exact restaurant they were sitting in the corner of. 

“I’m glad we’re doing this. That we’re able to just have some time together, going out, that we can have dinner together,” she says, looking at the man in front of her. “Well, I’d hope so, it’d be unfortunate if we went to dinner and we couldn’t eat,” he jokes, making her roll her eyes with a fond smile. “You know what I mean. I’m really happy to be with you,” she just says, making him smile. He reaches over, their hands on top of each other on the table. His thumb softly grazes her hand. “I’m really happy to be with you, too.”

They spend their first and second courses simply talking, joking around, looking at each other. Of course, it wasn’t a date night without some shameless flirting. George looked extremely handsome in his black button-up, and god, the short sleeves made his arms look extremely good. She had to keep herself from looking at them, the same way George had to remind himself not to stare too long. She was wearing a tight-fitting, white, off-shoulder top, and god, he wants her to never wear anything else ever again. 

As they were waiting for their dessert, their cheeks were a bit flushed from the wine as they giggled together. George lets out a content sigh, leaning back to look at her. “You know, I know I don’t say it a lot, but you’re an incredible person. A good shag too, if I may say so myself,” he jokes, making her giggle again as his expression softens. “Seriously, though. I’m really glad this is working out for us, you’re one of the best things to happen to me,” he quietly admits. She smiles at him, taking his hand that’s resting on the table. “I’m really glad, too, George. I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else,” she says, making a small smile appear on his face as he shyly looks down. A comfortable silence falls over them, the couple simply enjoying each other’s company and the shared feelings between them. “I’m staying at yours, right?” She breaks the silence right as dessert is served. They both thank the waiter before continuing their conversation, “Yeah, the boys went out and would stay at Arthur’s, they said, telling me I’ll have the house to myself after ten,” George answers, grabbing his phone as she nods. “This looks so good. So you’re telling me we could've had a cosy night in without the boys?” She teases opening the camera app. She looks up to find George’s pointed at her. “What?!” George laughs at her reaction, “Just capturing your love for food. You look good, you look pretty. Happy.” She blushes at his comment, reluctantly taking a picture of her plate. “Which one did you get again?” She asks, looking over. “Uh, the crème brûlée,” he says, as she takes another picture of both plates together, commenting how good it looks. He smiles, looking at her adoringly, before briefly glancing out the window to the busy streets. She furrows her eyebrows as he sits up straighter, “Is that Arthur?!” She turns around, not immediately spotting the singer but recognizing the head of curls next to him. “Oh my god, yeah, they’re here. Should I go to the bathroom and you text me when they’re gone? I have to go anyway,” she says, already standing up. George nods, still with a confused look on his face. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll text.”

It takes less than five minutes before she gets back. “Any of them realise we were here?” She asks, pushing back her chair to sit down again. He shakes his head, taking his glass of water in his hand. “Maybe Arthur, he was looking in, but I don’t think Chris or TV saw me,” he twirls his drink before taking a sip. She looks at him thoughtfully. “Hey, if you want to tell them, that’s fine with me, you know that right?” He immediately nods. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I want to, eventually, but I’m keeping you to myself for just a while longer,” she smiles at him, as he looks around again. “Oh god, I just realised… They already think I’m on a fucking date,” George suddenly says. “Well you are, with me.” He chuckles at her comment, “Yeah, but they don’t know that! I won’t hear the end of it,” he groans, making her laugh along with him. “You’ll be fine. Are we finally going to eat this? I want a bite of yours.”

It’s nearly midnight by the time they walk back to George’s. They’d spend a little while more drinking the last of their wine, conversation flowing effortlessly. With the alcohol, the giggling, flirting and touching all increase, and they’re walking back leaning against each other, fingers laced together. “I’m glad we have the flat to ourselves, it’d be a long night if I had to go spend the night by myself,” George whispers, kissing her cheek. She giggles, turning to look him in the eye. “Hmm. Luckily we don’t have to think about that, because I’ll be yours tonight and every other moment of the day for the foreseeable future,” George giggles along, pulling them to stop. They giggle as he kisses her, their bodies completely together, almost forgetting where they are. She innocently smiles at him, “C’mon, let’s get to yours,” she whispers. When they arrive, they quickly make their way to George’s bedroom, too indulged by each other to think about anything else. Their phones are completely disregarded on his bedside table, neither of them looking at it until later that morning. George checks his texts for the first time as Y/N is doing her morning routine after their shower, to see one from his roommate. 

From: Arthur Hill

saw you and y/n having dinner last night, looking cosy ;) swayed arthur and chris the other way, they don’t have a clue. happy for you two, george. x 

[miguelhugger2099]

OMG imagine the one bed trope w miguel. like idk why itd happen, maybe like they’re scoping out an anomaly in another universe and somehow the portal back gets blocked and they gotta stay the night at a hotel, but miguel and reader are stuck in the same bed (she SWEARS she booked two beds but oops! all the rooms are filled up!) and like oh no they need this hotel!! so at first they’re really rigid and like miguel’s all tense, he’s like “i’ll sleep on the floor” but reader is like “no it’s okay we can share! i don’t move a lot in my sleep anyway” (that’s a lie btw.) so then like miguel’s wide awake in the middle of the night, and reader keeps shifting in her sleep, and they end up in a pretty compromising position if ykwim… and then maybe she wakes up and finds miguel like so flustered and starts teasing him a bit and then things heat up ofc… idk just a thought! it’s been so long since i’ve seen the one bed trope tbh. (fem reader btw plssss)

Forced Proximity

i tried with my best with this 🫠 i wanted to try something new instead of regular p in v i hope that's okay 😭 thank u for requesting! if anything, i'd be happy to redo this when my requests open again

Miguel x Reader, Suggestive/Smut, Word Count: 2,271

Just as you and Miguel were about to shoot your webs at the new anomaly, a black bubbly portal opened up and sucked them up into another dimension. “Dammit!” You cursed, groaning at the convenience of an anomaly escaping. Miguel is already beside you, mask eyes squinted in focus as he clicks buttons on his watch. “Where’d he run off to?” You ask him. “No clue. Trying to track him now but the touchpad isn’t responding.” He grunts and furiously taps his screen but it seems to be glitching. He tries to open a portal back to HQ but it only warbles a little bit before shutting close again. “Let me try.” You lift up your watch to try and press the same coordinates when it responds the same way: a little warping but it shuts close. “Lyla,” Miguel calls out and she pops up between you two. “Run an analysis on our watches.” Her small heart glasses fog up with various numbers and letters, codes that only she knows. “Looks like the watches are bugged, Mig. Probably an effect the anomaly had.” “So we’re stranded?” You rip off your mask and place a hand on your hip. “Yup!” She nods. “For how long?” Miguel pinches his nose bridge with his finger and thumb.

“Well, most part-time spiders are off doing other missions in other dimensions and the other half of them have the day off. No one will be available until morning.” “So, we’re staying the night.” You lift your arms up and slap them down. “I’m finding a hotel.” You turn and look around for any around you two. Miguel sighs and faces Lyla. “Is there another way home? Are we safe from the glitching?” Lyla nods, pulling up frames and data for him to look at. “Safe from glitching. Probably just a program issue. Maybe an update issue. Unfortunately, not even Margo is at HQ so your next bet is waiting for a spider to portal you two back.” She explains and glitches out of the air. He tries to find a new solution but comes up short, deciding to just accept it before he grows angry. Miguel hears you calling his name as you run back to where Lyla and him were standing. “Okay, I found a hotel! I talked to this lady up front–luckily the currency is the same as yours–and we got extra lucky,” You huffed with a wide smile on your face. “They’re pretty busy but she managed to get us a room with two beds and two bathrooms. Left her a tip, hope you don’t mind.” You placed your hands on your hips and continued to grin at the frown on his lips.

Miguel rolled his eyes and called for Lyla, her little form glitching back and perching on his shoulder. “Lyla, get back to base. Let the others know we’ve been stranded and call for backup whenever someone’s available.” Her vibrant yellow glare shifts as she moves, her hand coming up in a salute and a police hat glitching on her head. “You got it, boss! Have fun you two!” She giggles and phases out. Miguel passes by you coldly, heading for the hotel where you booked for the night. You yawn behind him, just wanting to rest after a wasted day of failing to catch an anomaly. You walked through the hallways of the hotel, checking down at your key for the number of your room. Once you found it, you slipped the keycard on the lock and opened the door. “Home sweet–” You cut yourself off after peeking into the room and what greeted you was a singular bed. “Wha–?!” You glanced back at the roomkey number and the plate outside, finding the two matching that this was indeed your room for the night. “I swear I asked for two–” “I’ll take the floor.” Miguel grumbles behind you, his entire frame stiff and rigid. You take a look up at him and his face is unamused and staring straight ahead to avoid your eye. “No, it’s–it’s fine,” You chuckle nervously and walk over to the bed. You pat the edge of it and try to convince yourself and Miguel that everything was fine. “There’s so much space. It’s like–what– a king size? We have plenty of room to share!” Miguel doesn’t seem convinced in the slightest, already making a move to grab a pillow. “I don’t even move that much in my sleep! Promise! Pinky promise.” You hold up your pinky to Miguel and he stops to stare at your hand with a deadpan expression. “Fine.” He grunts, placing the pillow back down and not wanting to deal with you any further since he was exhausted.

You, in fact, actually do move a lot in your sleep–Miguel figured out. He really was exhausted and expected himself to pass out as soon as his head hit the pillow but with you next to him, it was like the energy hadn’t left his body. He laid there straight as a pole with the blanket at his chest and staring at the ceiling. You were in dreamland, snoozing and sprawled on the mattress– blissfully unaware of Miguel’s misery by the situation at hand. You shifted around in your sleep, your hand hitting his shoulder or your leg bumping against his ankle. Miguel could handle it. He’s spent many uncomfortable all-nighters so he thought to himself that one more wouldn’t be too damaging for him. It wasn’t until you moved further to his side of the bed that had Miguel’s heart racing. You turned to his side, throwing your leg over his and your arm draped around his neck to bring him closer to you. His arm instinctively went under your body and held your waist while you pressed yourself against him, so as to not make the position uncomfortable for either of you. Miguel’s cheeks burned while you nuzzled to his chest, acting like he was some sort of teddy bear. He hoped his heartbeat wouldn’t wake you from your slumber. Your thighs were close together and any closer you’d start accidentally grinding on him. Miguel looked back up at the ceiling and prayed that you’d move soon.

His prayers were not answered. You woke up after feeling a bit too much heat and it became unbearable to sleep through. You blinked away the sleep groggily, wondering why the pillow you had been on had gotten a little more firm. You lifted your head to see you weren’t on your pillow but basically cuddling up against your boss. You looked down to see your legs intertwined together and turned your head to apologize when you stopped seeing Miguel’s cheeks flush red. His eyes did not meet yours but you felt the pounding of his heart. A smile curled up on your lips, apology wiped off your mind and instead leaning into wanting to taunt him for how shy he’s acting. “Miguel,” You tease with a bit of laughter. “Aw, c’mon. A little accidental cuddle gets you nervous?” Miguel glares at you from the corner of his eye. As you laugh, you continue moving against him. You don’t notice how he takes a sharp inhale when your knee brushes against his crotch as you lift yourself up. Your hands rest on either side of his head. “Did you even sleep? Or did you just stay up all night like some perv?” You snort, having the time of your life seeing your usually sulking boss look so cute with red scattered across his cheeks. Miguel squeezes your waist then uses both his hands to grab you and force you down on his thigh. You gasp in shock, all playfulness leaving your body as your core hits his firm muscle. The action ignites a spark in your chest that sends it straight between your legs, making you whimper, all in a split second.

You snap your head towards him, cheeks already burning and mouth dropped open in shock. Miguel meets it with a cheshire like grin, his own blush on his cheeks but less now that you’re  more flustered than him. “Careful,” He says. “Wouldn’t want to be some sort of perv, huh?” You could’ve sworn his voice dropped down an octave. You stutter, unable to respond back as he rendered you speechless. His thigh flexed and it sent a jolt up your spine with your cunt throbbing which he felt. Maybe it was him being tired, drained from the day that he was acting out of character. Too tired to care about the consequences while his mind clouded and numbed his usual feelings. For now, he enjoyed the way your hands gripped onto his shoulders, cute eyes wide open and feeling the delicious beat of your pussy on his thigh. He rubs your hips on his thigh, his muscle flexing to put some stimulation to your pussy. You squeak and lean forward as the pleasure runs through your body and makes you grow hot. “Miguel…!” You gasp and moan. You automatically grind yourself on him and his grin widens, leaning back to see the show. Miguel feels your wetness seep through the thin fabric of your suit and panties onto his own suit. He phases just a small part of his thigh out his suit to feel just how wet you’ve gotten with a little teasing. “Already?” He murmurs and your cheeks burn brightly. “You like this, huh?” “Fuck…” You huff out, hanging your head to not meet his gaze. Your nails dig into his shoulder as he moves your hips. “C’mon. Show me how much you like this.” You know he was only doing this to get back at you for teasing him, for booking a one bed instead of two and with how his patience had run out from being stranded here, you decided not to test that anger anymore.

So you slowly moved up and down his thigh with a soft whimper, shutting your eyes close while you did so. Your breathing grew heavy, and you shook with every slight movement on his end. Slowly, you picked up speed, the lust flooding your mind and the pace you were going at hadn’t been enough. You humped his thigh faster, still opting out of looking down at him. “Shit…Not enough…” You murmured under your breath, not thinking he’d heard you over the accumulating wet sounds on his skin and shuffling of bed sheets. “Let me help.” You hear him say and feel his hand by the zipper of your suit at the nape of your neck. Weak from your pleasure, you let him tug your suit off your torso. Miguel tapped your thighs as a signal to lift yourself up while he slipped the rest of it off you. You were now bare in front of him, his hands placed back at your hips. You still felt embarrassed, trying to cover up your chest with your arms and hands. Miguel wasn’t having it, growing annoyed at you covering yourself. He cupped the back of your neck and pulled you flushed down on his chest. “Keep going.” He growled. The rumble of his voice went straight to your cunt once more, succumbing to him as you began grinding yourself on him, skin to skin. Your folds smeared your juices on his thighs coating him in your wetness. The swollen nub of your clit rolled deliciously between you and his thigh and you panted softly as you tried chasing you high.

“There you go. That’s it.” Miguel murmured, bucking his thigh to your pussy to the same pace of your humping. He held your hip with one hand to help you and his other hand raked up and down your back, his talons scratching your flesh. “You’re doing so good. Good girl riding my thigh, yeah?” He purred which made you groan and buck your hips faster. “Miguel…” You breathed out. “More, more.” You pleaded. His talons pricked your skin. “Cum on my thigh first and maybe I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

Peter B. met you two once the portal fully opened up in your stranded dimension. He greeted you with a smile, Mayday babbling in her carrier. “Hey! Glad you guys survived the night. Took a minute to get you guys. Sorry about that.” He playfully punched Miguel’s and your shoulder. You beamed at him and held Mayday’s little hand, wiggling it around softly enough to make her giggle. “Hope it wasn’t agonizing.” Peter chuckles to you. You chuckle back and step away from Mayday, giving the two a smile. “Not at all. He’s surprisingly good company.” Miguel doesn’t react behind you. “Oh, yeah? Must be going soft. Big guy isn’t just pleasant for anybody.” Peter says. “Funny how things work out.” You grin and turn around to peck Miguel’s cheek and walk towards the portal. “I’ll see you guys later?” You give a wink and slip into the portal, your body phasing out and leaving the two men behind. Peter gapes at the warping space where you had just left and slowly turns to Miguel to see his friend, very much stiff but his face has a slight tint to it. “Did something happen–” Miguel shoves his face aside and phases his mask over his head to hide his cheeks. “Cállate.” He mutters and enters into the portal towards his dimension.

Peter gets snapped out of his stupor by Mayday babbling and waving her arms around as if cheering Miguel and you on. Peter looks down at her and grabs her little hand in his. “He’s growin’ up, huh?” Mayday squeals.

[doumadono]

Warnings: intermittent explosive disorder (IED), mentions of PTSD, a lot of angst, Bakugo dealing with impulsive anger outbursts, Bakugo being mean, aged-up Bakugo, pro hero Dynamight

A/N: yesterday, while chatting with my partner about Bakugo, a thought struck me (though it's just a personal theory, subject to disagreement) - Bakugo might exhibit signs of intermittent explosive disorder. His frequent bouts of anger, his brusque and often unkind demeanor, and occasional lack of control over his temper could be indicative of this. These headcanons delves into Bakugo's life as the second-ranked pro hero, Dynamight, as he grapples with the aftermath of the war

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

You meet Bakugo when he's the second-ranked pro hero, right after Deku. You're drawn to his charisma, confident personality, and the way he becomes protective of you.

Unfortunately, over time, you start to notice a lot of things that are just not right. His temper is extremely short, and he can explode with anger no matter what happens. It could be something he dislikes or someone doing something he doesn't approve of, and it immediately triggers a massive rage outburst. This can lead to him losing control of his own quirk, resulting in him destroying things.

After a routine checkup, the doctor suggests taking some tests, and the results are devastating: Bakugo is diagnosed with intermittent explosive disorder.

Naturally, this news infuriates him, and when he returns to your shared flat, he destroys his own little office in a fit of rage.

Bakugo's intermittent explosive disorder makes it difficult for him to control his anger, and he will often lash out in violent outbursts.

Bakugo's intermittent explosive disorder manifests in unpredictable outbursts of anger and aggression, often triggered by seemingly minor frustrations or perceived slights. His explosions can range from verbal tirades to physical violence, leaving destruction in their wake.

During his outbursts, Bakugo lashes out verbally and physically, unaware of the damage he inflicts on those around him.

Despite his efforts to control it, Bakugo's explosive temper often alienates him from his friends and loved ones.

His relationships with people he considered colleagues or sometimes friends become strained as they struggle to understand and cope with his unpredictable behavior anymore.

You're often the target of his outbursts but refuses to give up on him, believing that beneath his volatile exterior lies a wounded soul in need of understanding and support.

Even Mitsuki tries to intervene. "Honey, you need help. This isn't healthy for you or anyone around you! We're here for you, son. We want to help you get through this."

But of course Katsuki declines. "I don't need your help! I can handle this on my own!"

Bakugo's disorder takes a toll on your relationship, testing the limits of your love and patience. There are moments when you feel helpless and overwhelmed, questioning whether you can handle the emotional rollercoaster of being with him.

You learn to recognize the signs of an impending outburst and try to diffuse the situation before it escalates, using gentle words and gestures of affection to calm him down.

Bakugo's disorder has left him feeling like a monster, like a beast that's been unleashed upon the world with no hope of redemption. He's consumed by guilt and self-loathing, convinced that he's unworthy of love or forgiveness.

Deep down, Bakugo is aware of his condition and the pain he causes, but his overwhelming anger blinds him to the consequences of his actions.

Bakugo's disorder causes him to push you away frequently, convinced that he's too dangerous to be around. He believes that he's protecting you by keeping his distance, even though it breaks his heart to do so.

Bakugo's disorder becomes a constant source of tension between the two of you, with every interaction tinged with the fear of setting him off.

Finally, after months of suggesting and almost begging, Bakugo agrees to try something new and allows you to take him to a psychiatrist. The doctor prescribes him Fluoxetine, and after some time of taking the medication, his rage and anger outbursts become smaller and less frequent.

You don't just leave it there. You suggest he should think about therapy, and after some reluctance, he agrees.

After attending several sessions, you both discover that Bakugo's disorder is linked to PTSD he developed post-war and after being dead for a while. Suddenly, everything becomes clear, and you not only understand your boyfriend better but also know how to help him effectively. Hearing about his traumatic experiences brings tears to your eyes, and you cry a river upon realizing the extent of his suffering.

Over time, and with the combined efforts of you, his parents, and his friends, Katsuki starts to make progress in managing his disorders and becomes a bit calmer with his emotions. Of course, everyone remains super careful not to do anything that might set him off.

Being Dynamight's partner is tough, and you know it better than anyone. But despite the challenges, you're not about to leave him. He's the love of your life after all, with all his strengths and weaknesses.

[sturnioloszn]

IN LOVE WITH A CRIMINAL - C.S

summary; after almost being caught committing murder, chris reassures you that everything is fine and helps you relieve some nerves...

warnings; smut, mentions of committing a crime (murder), gun kink.

a/n; i'm lowk stepping out the comfort zone w this one, so if it's dogshit, we know why. btw, if u don't understand the relationship, chris and y/n work together as hitmen (or ig hitman and hitwoman).

★ ° . *　　°　.　°☆ 　. * ● ¸. 　　　★ 　° :. ★　 * •

I sit on the edge of the bed, leaning down to undo the straps on my black heels. I'm usually focused on how sore my feet are after wearing heels for several hours, but my mind is engrossed with one thought.

It wasn't uncommon for Chris and I to be paired together for hits; actually, we worked well as a team. But tonight didn't go as smoothly as it was meant to.

It was supposed to be a straightforward night; while I kept the ambassador distracted, Chris would take him out.

Unfortunately, my charm worked a little too well, and the ambassador wanted to "find somewhere more private," so we kept changing locations, meaning Chris couldn't take the shot easily.

We eventually managed, but the authorities were on scene immediately, which wouldn't have been the case if we had stayed at the original location. Due to this, we were almost recognised, but we fled the scene just before they could recognise us.

Yet, I can't help but feel paranoid. I know what line of work I'm in, and yes, I know the risks, but it's still an insanely scary thought. What if they saw my face? Would I have to be a fugitive? Would I have to live the rest of my life in the shadows to prevent from being seen again?

Fuck.

The sound of ammo hitting the bathroom counter snapped me out of my anxiety-ridden thoughts. I slowly stand up from the bed, stepping out of my heels and heading towards the bathroom in the hotel room.

I reach the doorway and see Chris at the countertop, he's clearing the gun that was used tonight. I lean against the door frame with my arms crossed over my chest as I watch his hands work the gun. I won't lie, Chris was hot as fuck, he had a sharp jawline and a beautiful side profile with gorgeous brown hair that fell over his forehead.

But it doesn't matter how sexy he was, there's no way anything could happen between us, especially with work. It would just get way too messy.

"Do you think they saw us?" I ask, breaking the deafening silence that was lying between us.

"No," he replies coldly. I know he was somewhat upset at me due to the fact that I couldn't keep the ambassador in one place, making his job harder.

"There were a lot of them... what if they did see our faces?" I say, now beginning to share my inner conflicts with him.

"They didn't. Stop stressing," another cold reply.

"They saw us leave though, we had to have looked suspicious, right?" I question once again. I could sense he was getting annoyed at all my questions but I really couldn't help it.

"We're fine," he huffs, as he sorts through the unused ammunition. I watch his fingers work diligently, organising everything so carefully. I wonder what else his fingers would be good at.

Fuck, I really have to stop thinking these things, because I can only blame myself for the dampness in my panties right now.

"Listen, it's not your fault, okay?" He sighs, turning his head to finally look at me. I think he feels slightly bad being so harsh on me, even though it really isn't my fault that I'm so hot.

I nod at his words, dragging my eyes to the floor to avoid eye contact. He takes a few steps towards me and places his index finger under my chin, tilting my head high enough so that our eyes could meet.

"I mean it...I'm sorry for being a dickhead," his words are soft and sincere, almost enough to make my knees crumble completely. "And no, I'm sure they didn't see us. Stop stressing your pretty little head about it,".

He's so close that I can almost hear his heartbeat, and the small touch he has on my skin is enough to burn up my entire body. There's no way he can't see the effects he has on me.

"What can I do to ease your mind, hm?" He says, moving his finger from under my chin and using his entire hand to cup the side on my face; his thumb caressing my blushed cheek softly.

"Nothing, I'm fine...I probably just need some sleep," I say. But even if I take him up on his offer, what is he really laying out on the table? Maybe I'm reading too far into this.

"Nothing? There's absolutely nothing I can do f'you?" He asks, lowering his head to my neck and planting a soft kiss there. I lean my head back, surprised by his actions.

Chris and I have been strictly colleagues, and other than the occasional flirty joke, there's not been anything else between us... until now.

"Chris..." I whisper, almost as a warning, as if someone could catch us at any moment.

"Hm," he mumbles against my neck, still peppering small kisses. I sigh and give into his touch. He feels me surrender, and he moves his hands to my curves, drinking them in with every touch.

"This dress looks so fucking good on you, y'know that?" His words are barely recognisable, so I weave my hands through his hair and tug his face away from my neck. I guide him towards my lips and it doesn't take long for him to crash his perfect, plump lips into mine.

The kiss is instantly hot, burning even, and the feel of his hands all over my body definitely doesn't help with the heat. His hands slip down to my ass, grabbing handfuls. A light gasp leaves my mouth, surprised by his direct actions.

"Can I make you feel good?" He asks, briefly pulling away from my lips. There's a look of hunger in his eyes, which makes him look even more irresistible.

"Please, Chris," I reply pathetically. By now, my panties are soaked, and we're both still fully dressed. God, what is he doing to me.

I feel him reconnect our lips and slide his hands under my ass to my thighs. I feel his arms tense, and my feet lift the ground. He places me onto the bathroom countertop, and I wrap my legs around his torso.

His hands find my hips again, but instead of stopping there, they continue downwards towards the slit in my dress. His right hand slips under my dress, and he reaches for the fabric at my hip.

He invites his left hand under the dress, too, finding the fabric on the other side of my hip. He tugs both sides down, removing my panties completely.

He looks up at me, his cold, blue eyes meet mine. I've never seen anyone with eyes as pretty as his; they really are his best feature.

"Do you trust me?" He asks, his eyes locking me in a trance. I nod, unable to get any words past my lips.

"I need you to use your words," he speaks again. If he keeps speaking like this, my composure will be out the window any minute.

"Of course I trust you, Chris," I say, wondering why he's even asking me that. He then turns and grabs the gun next to him. What is he doing?

He returns his attention back to me and slowly spreads my legs. My dress rides up, leaving me more than accessible to him.

"Fuck, look at how soaked you are and I haven't even touched you yet," he groans, and I can see the buldge in his trousers form.

He then does something that I would have never dreamed he'd do.

He took the barrel of the gun and ran it between my folds, lathering it in my fluid. The cold metal of the gun against my hot core makes me jump slightly.

"C-Chris... what are you doing?" I ask, my breathing getting shallower.

"Shh, just let me take care of you and ease your worries," he says, his eyes never faltering from my dripping cunt. I throw my head back and enjoy this new sensation that I'm being guided through.

Then, out of nowhere, I feel the gun slip into me. No way he's fucking me with a gun.

"Fuck, Chris," I say, bucking I'm hips slightly. I'm not completely opposed to this idea but it's definitely something new.

Thank God I saw him take out the bullets otherwise my stress level would be through the roof.

He starts pumping the gun faster and faster, and a familiar heat is building in my stomach. Moans start spilling from my lips uncontrollably and my hands find their way to his hair again.

"Chris, p-please... don't stop," I say, at this point I'm fucking the gun back, and I'm so close to euphoria.

"I wasn't planning on it," he breathes out. A few strokes later, and I'm spamming around the gun, letting my wetness coat it as Chris' name, along with a string of curse words, leave my mouth.

He slowly removes the gun from my hole and looks at it in wonder before turning to me.

"I've never been more turned on in my life," he says, his eyes bouncing back between me and the gun.

I'm sure I look a mess right now, I'm panting heavily, my hair is frizzy, and mascara is likely running down my face, yet Chris doesn't think twice about calling me beautiful.

"What does this mean for us?" I ask, pulling myself down from the countertop, grabbing onto Chris to steady myself.

"I've liked you for a while, y/n, I was tired of pretending like I didn't need you," He admitted. My cheeks are definitely blushing, and not because I just orgasmed.

"Me too... but what about work?" I question, work is the main reason I hadn't made my move. I'm already a criminal, I can't be in love with one, too.

"We'll make it work, now stop worrying about everything, I'm going to run you a bath, and you're going to relax," he says, placing a soft kiss on my forehead.

★ ° . *　　°　.　°☆ 　. * ● ¸. 　　　★ 　° :. ★　 * •

a/n; well... I don't think this is too horrendous (if it is, keep ur mouth shut otherwise i'll cry). alsooo, 151 notes on my last fanfic?? u guys are insane but i appreciate it sooo much, thank youuu and love youu smm 💙

[acotarxreader]

Timing

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis: Timing works against you and Azriel as a series of unfortunate events lands the two of you alone for the night with a broken down car and a breaking down friendship

Warnings: Angst, Modern, I don't know how cars work, rough draft writing

A/N: My first modern fic for these guys, hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think of a more modern setting!

Requests Open!

-------------------------------------------

“We're going to die”

“We're not going to die Cassian, calm down”

“We're going to die”

“We're not going to...GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY JACKASS!!!”

“I agree, we're definitely going to die” Rhysand chimes in from the backseat.

“Would you babies calm down for fucksake I know what I'm doi...OI PEABRAIN! YEAH YOU! YOUR BRAIN IS THE SIZE OF THAT GAP YOU LEFT! SHARE THE FUCKING ROAD!.... Bastard” 

“Yup, we're dead” you heard Feyre whine from behind you before launching into a prayer. You swerve the car tightly around the corner, the only way you know how, sending your friends in the backseat skewed.

“Fucking hell YNN!” Cassian grabbed the overhead handle whispering his own prayers. 

“If you cook like you drive then Gods help us” A now slightly green Rhysand adds, helping Feyre to sit back upright and tighten her safety belt further.

“If we even live that long” you hear Feyre whisper.

“The utter lack of faith that my friends have in me is really quite disheartening….who wants to bet I can make all these green lights before they change?”

“No!” They all scream in unison as you laugh and accept the challenge.

The car hit the curb outside of Azriel’s house, it hardly reaching its stop before Rhysand tumbled out onto the grass practically kissing the ground leaving you rolling your eyes from the driver's seat. Cassian lay across the grass alongside Rhysand shortly after, both thanking the Gods to be in one piece. Azriel laughed from the porch of his home, slogging his rucksack over his shoulder before locking the front door and strutting down to his friends. 

“Let me guess, YNN is driving?” You replied with a small wave of your fingertips as you leaned against your car door. 

“Nope no definitely not, I'm driving the rest of the way, I refuse to arrive at the camp in a casket” Cassian rights himself again before standing to remove the keys from the ignition, receiving a dirty look from you. 

“You’re all such cry babies” you laughed, pulling your bag out from the trunk of the car as the rest of your friends tried to fight off the seasickness your driving provided. 

“Shit!”

“What’s wrong YNN?” Feyre rested her head along the headrest of the back seat to meet your eyes on the other side of the car boot. You had begun to pull out the contents of your bag, Rhysand now joining your side. 

“I forgot my medication, I have to go back” the group groaned, causing a guilty feeling in your stomach to form. You were all already behind schedule, with a lot of other college students already well on their way to blackout drunk at the campsite for spring break. 

“I’ll drive you back in my truck for it, let all the others go ahead so we don’t lose our spot?” Azriel offered

“How unusually kind of you Az” You scoffed

“Fine, die, suits me, I’m on music” Azriel shrugged, throwing his bag on top of the contents of yours in the trunk. The two of you locked eyes, a standoff beginning to take shape. The both of you had a rocky relationship at best, it being amplified when Azriel slept with your cousin when she visited last year. 

“Okay but I drive”

“Suits me, I hate driving” Rhysand looked between the two of you, almost certain someone would be arriving at the campsite in a casket. 

—-------------

“YN, if you crash my truck we're going to have some serious issues”

“I paid for gas so therefore it's my truck” you chewed out, the wheel spinning through your hands as you went along the mountain trail, a good two or three hours behind the rest of your friends. 

“That wouldn’t hold in a court of law” You accelerated into the turn, sending Azriel crashing into the car door with a thud. You had been driving for almost an hour, taking one of Azriel's shortcuts that had taken you well and truly off the beaten path through a wooded area.

“Seriously! Was that necessary!?”

“I don’t want to miss out on any more of the fun”

“It’s not my fault we had a leak in the tyre, I never drive this thing, it was bad timing!” he folded his arms tightly into his chest, regretting his act of kindness. The engine screeched at your harsh handling, Azriel clenching his fists until they drained of colour, his leg bouncing off the floor. 

“Stop shaking your leg it's distracting me”

“You’re making me nervous!”

“And you’re making me insane!” Your hand found the knob of the radio, twisting it to release 80’s pop music at deafening volumes to drown out your singing.

“YN! SERIOUSLY! YOU’RE IMPOSSIBLE” He moved to turn it down, you batting away his hand as the car ploughed up the steep incline of the hillside before barreling down the open road. 

“Driver controls the music!”

“It’s my truck!” Azriel shouted back, you drowning him out with George Micheal. Azriel huffed, reaching for the two-litre bottle of Coke at his feet. 

“WAIT A-” It was too late, the bottle practically exploded as Azriel opened it, the speed of your driving shaking every ounce of the liquid sugar. 

“HOLY SHIT!”

“YOU FUCKING IDIOT!!!” You finally slammed down on the brakes, skirting the truck off the side of the road into the dirt, the vehicle screaming out to you. 

“ME?! IT'S YOU WHO'S DRIVING LIKE WE'RE IN A RALLY!"

“OH MY GOODNESS IT'S FUCKING EVERYWHERE!” You ran your hands across your soaked face, the cabin of the truck now tinged caramel brown forevermore. 

“NO SHIT SHERLOCK” He snapped at you

“YOU’RE GOING TO DRIVE ME INSANE!” You shouted down at your ruined clothes. Azriel cautiously lifted the bottle to his mouth as you watched him out of the corner of your eye, infuriating you further and causing you to bat the bottle out of his hands back to his feet. 

“Fucking idiot” You scrunched your eyes together. 

“We’ll sort it out at the camp, it's only another…three hours” he groaned as you rested your head on the sticky steering wheel before exhaling deeply. 

“Its fine, this is fine” You readjusted yourself before turning the keys in the ignition, the truck huffing back at you.

“NO NO NO NO” you banged the steering wheel as the bonnet began to flood with smoke. 

“FUCK!” You threw yourself back against the soaked chair in frustration before leaping out and banging open the hood, followed by a string of colourful language as smoke filled the road. 

“How bad is it?” Azriel cautiously stuck his head out of the window as you attempted to look past the smoke. You stomped to his window, a piece of hot rubber in your hands.

“Oh...that looks like it's important…”

“Yeah it is...was, it's your timing belt...it was the timing belt. We're fucked! All because you don't do car maintenance!” 

“If you didn’t drive like a fucking lunatic it would have been fine!” You gave an exasperated shriek in reply, tossing the rubber to the floor and storming back to the hood of the car, hands on your hips. Azriel texted Cassian before sliding out of his truck to join your side, the smoke clearing. 

“Do you want the bad news or the really bad news?” You replied to him with a glare. 

“Okay okay, they’re already all way too drunk to get behind the wheel and Rhysand called his dad’s mechanic, I sent him our location and he can’t get up here until the morning, it's his kid's birthday” he said almost timidly. 

“Fuck” You cleared your lungs of oxygen, your hands lacing together on the top of your head. 

“And we can’t fix it? I thought you were good with cars”

“I’m not fucking magic, I can’t just pull a new belt out of thin air” You slammed down the hood before whipping the driver-side door back open, the sweet liquid now drying into a pure sticky mess.

“What the fuck are we going to do Azriel?”

“I guess we’re staying here for the night” He left the rusting hood to circle to the back of the truck, extremely thankful he had put your things in the back of it before splitting the group up. 

“We can’t sleep in here, it's disgusting” You huffed, slamming the door. 

“No need to break the door as well-” he regretted the joke once he became the recipient of your famous death stare “-we can sleep in the back” 

“Maybe you can take a look under the bonnet and think of something, you’re the engineering student” You were becoming desperate, the thought of being stuck in the middle of the woods with your best frenemy as night closed in becoming too much to process. 

“I’m doing civil engineering YN” he scoffed, throwing a leg over the back of the truck and spreading his sleeping bag across the freezing metal. 

“Oh great so if it was the road we were driving on that exploded you’d be of some use” you laughed, standing up on the tow bar to aid the swing of your leg into the back. 

“Precisely” He grinned, offering you his hand to help pull you in. 

The two of you exchanged your coke-covered clothing for the spare thicker layers you both had thankfully packed, settling into the small nest you had built in the back of the truck as the stars began to show you their faces in the sky. Azriel dug through his rucksack, fishing out two cans of beer chilled from the night air and offering you it with a smile. 

“We don’t have to miss out on all the fun” he tipped the top of his can off of yours as you both leaned on the cabin of the truck, watching the stars twinkle, hoping it would be enough to distract you from the growing cold. 

“This day has been crazy”

“Sorry I added to your stress YNN” You rolled your head along the metal of the cabin to smile softly up to him. 

“Sorry I drive like a maniac”

“I'm sorry you drive like a maniac too” You swung your hand out from under the sleeping bag to hit him into the chest with a thud as he chuckled.

“Sorry I called you impossible and a bitch YNN”

“You didn't call me a bitch?”

“Maybe not out loud” You laughed to him, finishing off your beer and sinking down further beneath your covers. The night sky was beautiful but the accompanying bite in the air was undeniable. 

“We’re going to die out here” you chattered out, the warmth the beer had provided to your system leaking out as Azriel discarded the two empty cans in his bag. 

“Probably, but at least it's a nice night” his shivering rattled against the metal mattress. 

“Maybe bears will eat us before we freeze to death”

“No bear is gonna catch me”

“Azriel there’s no way you could outrun a bear”

“Who says I had to outrun the bear? I just need to outrun you” his laugh carried through the woods to match yours until the strangely comfortable silence swaddled the two of you until the stress of the day took its full toll, lulling you both to sleep. 

-

The bright sun shone through the slots in the tall evergreen trees, heating the metal of the truck to a cosy temperature until those very rays crossed the path of your eyes, waking you from your deep and surprisingly comfortable sleep. 

“OH MY GOD!” You shot upright, the world blotting into focus, your sudden movement causing Azriel’s breath to hitch as he dragged an arm across his face, your legs still slightly tangled in one another. 

“For fucksake, its like living with a Chihuahua, what the fuck is wrong with you now Lassie?” His hand crossed his chest in an attempt to slow down his heart rate again. 

“Nothing, nothing happened, we were just cold, that's all” you collapsed back down beside him, breath returning to you. 

“Would it really have been that bad if something were to happen?” Azriel laughed through his stretch, the metal mattress a cruel mistress for his back muscles. 

“If you ever tell anyone about this I'll remove your kneecaps” you threaten.

“What? That you tried to make advances and planned this whole thing to get in my pants? No, I would never YNN” His laugh echoed across the hills again as you thought about his previous comment. You groaned again, running your hands through your hair.

“We were just cold, why are you acting like this is the worst thing to ever happen ever”

“Because it is the worst thing” You sat up again and Azriel followed suit, covering the part of him that showed all his cards. 

“Why?”

“WE’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO-TO INTERACT LIKE THIS! I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO LIKE YOU! ” Your hand gestured between the two of you.

“WELL WHAT IF I LIKE YOU?!” his raising voice only matched yours as frustration grew.

“WELL I DON'T LIKE YOU!”

“REALLY!?”

“NO!” In the heat of the moment, you lunged slightly forward, colliding your lips with Azriel’s. His warm hand cupped your face gently as your hands ran across his thighs. You pulled back almost as fast as you lunged forward. 

“Oh my Gods oh my Gods oh my Gods” You leapt out of the truck, pulling your sweatshirt tighter across yourself and began pacing while Azriel stared at you, mouth slightly agape.

“Did you just kiss me?” His voice was low as though trying to speak to a spooked horse. 

“I-” The slam of a car door caused you both to jump as the mechanic rounded the truck with a smile and perfect timing. 

“Right let's get you two love birds back on the road”

“We're just friends!” You quickly shot back, the mechanic giving you a weird look before heading back to the bonnet of the car alongside you. What the hell just happened was all Azriel could think.

-----------------------------------------

Whatcha think?!

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Sexy Dilf Suit For Sale!

Check him out, Internet! I'm selling meat-suits again, and this one is a stud!

I caught him at the park a few years back. The guy casually passed me like he wasn't the sexiest motherfucker I'd ever seen. He was shirtless of course, jogging in a tight pair of running shorts that really showed off his strong legs. He was a lot less hairy back then, when he used to keep all that fur trimmed neatly. I followed him to the park's restroom and converted him there. He had earbuds in, so it was ridiculously easy to sneak up behind him at the urinal. I dragged him into a stall and spent the next few hours hollowing him out. I wore him home that night, and my boyfriend was ecstatic to see me in such a hot dad. The first thing I did was use that guy's low voice to order my partner to, "Pull out daddy's penis."

We spent the night breaking the suit in. It was fairly obvious that the man was a virgin to gay sex. He felt sensitive and tight in all the right areas, and he hid a girthy python between his legs...

This suit was a favorite for public dates. I loved the way men and women stared at me while I was in him! He's honestly one of my favorites, but unfortunately, it has to go. Last week I wore him out to dinner with my boyfriend. Inside his skin, I donned a form-fitting suit and gelled his hair back handsomely. We were cozied up in an expensive restaurant when she came in. "Sam!" she yelled, "You-you're my Samuel!" Obviously, the poor woman was this guy's wife or something. She burst into tears in the middle of the restaurant, wailing about kids that I supposedly shared with her. I tried to convince her that I wasn't this Sam guy. I even made out with my boyfriend in front of her as proof, but she insisted I was him.

Ultimately, we left our date early, and now there's some lady running around looking for the person this meat-suit used to be.

So that's what brings me here! Part of me can't bear to get rid of him. I loved being inside that guy, but I can't keep him around here! I'd like around $5,000 for him, and I'd like to know that whoever's buying will wear him far away from here. That poor lady doesn't need to see him walking around town, completely unaware of his wife or kids.

Like I said, you can expect a lot of attention, strutting around with his handsome body and face. I've never worn him to a club and not had somebody offer to buy my drink. He's just too darn handsome, especially if you show off the goods! The old Samuel was probably too timid to highlight his juicy bubble butt or bulging crotch, but they are very popular with other gay men! Expect a lot of wandering hands!

Anyway, hit me up if you're interested. It'll be laying outside while I wait for an offer. His skin tans beautifully, so I figured I might as well bronze him up for ya!

[jasperxkuromi]

Regressors that are (bodily) older, please interact!

Later 20s, 30s, maybe even older? I would love to hear from you and maybe even your stories if you don't mind sharing!

I want to meet more people like me and also show others that age regression doesn't just suddenly "stop" at a certain age

Some of us:

Didn't discover regressing/didn't understand their involuntary regression until they were older

Wasn't in a safe space mentally and/or physically to be able to regress the way we want to

Didnt "grow out" of regressing. I think a lot of people outside the community assume we will all grow out of wanting to regress at some point. Maybe some of us will, but some of us won't. Regressing can be a safe and healthy coping mechanism, no matter your bodily age!

And probably many other reasons I can't think of at the moment lol

I would love to get to talk to older regressors, or if there are any groups/discords, I would like to know those too :3

I'm gonna talk about my story a little under the cut, but I don't exactly recommend reading it if you are little right now! I am going to be talking about s3xualization of agere and children's media unfortunately.

I started age dreamer/involuntarily regressing when I was in high school without really knowing what it was. I was really into MLP FiM during its height popularity. I watched the show, collected and played with the toys, did coloring books, took my MLP blanket to school ever day. You get the idea.

I discovered regression here in Tumblr, but this was yeeeeaaars ago, like back when nsfw was still allowed. The line between ddlg and agere wasn't as solid as it is now. Or maybe it was just because I was a kid and couldn't understand better? Either way ... i ended up getting wrong ideas of what agere had to be and ended up scaring myself off. I also had adult roleplayers leaving really inappropriate comments on my posts that made me feel icky. I thought agere had to be s3xual and scared myself off.

We also unfortunately probably know the uhhh .. types of fan art that was popular of MLP. And it just ended up making me lose interest in the series. The stuff was everywhere and it was hard to avoid even if you were vigilant.

I never got a real chance to understand what healthy, voluntary regression was. I still was an age dreamer, but most times when I involuntarily regress it is out of extreme stress and it isn't fun or pretty.

I had a lot of bad things that happened to me last year and in turn I am having more health issues. Chronic conditions I already had getting worse, and new ones popping up. My mom (the one who birthed me) has been helping me a bit, but it has still been a lot of playing adult. Making phone calls back and forth, filling out paperwork, figuring out disability leave, paying bills, etc etc. I started age dreaming more and more often to cope with the stress. Like I randomly one day bought a DVD player and sets of Winnie the Pooh and Scooby Doo DVDs lmfao.

I also never stopped collecting stuffed animals and came back to collecting dolls again last year. It helps that I have friends IRL who I don't think are regressors, but still enjoy collecting with me. (my friends don't know yet, but I think they would be accepting if I told them, or they might already assume I regress tbh)

I have kinda had age regression on the back of my mind for several months, but was scared to look back into it. I was scared of going through the same thing I did back in high school. But also denying I am a regressor and that I still need to heal my childhood wounds was getting heavier and heavier on me. I am sooooo thankful I finally felt safe to begin exploring regression again ♥️😁

Side note: while I absolutely don't care if people do ddlg and similar stuff as a kink/fetish, I am thankful that the distinction between that and agere is more distinct now. It is important we protect minors and other vulnerable people from having the same sorts of things that happened to me (or worse) from happening to them.

[obsessedwithtoomanythings]

Keep Your Eyes Open

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Reader

Warnings: Smut, P in V, female anatomy, reader is called she, lots of talk of guns, but no gunplay (I mean, it’s on the table and it’s in her hand, but it’s never explicitly used for the sexual stuff), dirty talk, crush confessions, Leon asks her out then fucks her.

Words: 4K

A/N: This is my first smut in forever. Cheers to Leon S. Kennedy for bringing back that smut inspiration! Inspired by this post! Thanks to @angelltheninth for letting me write it!

“Listen, you know I consider you a friend… but-” Hunnigan starts, eyes filled with concern as she looks over the piece of paper littered with holes. Let’s just say more of my shots ended up in the wall behind the target than the actual target.

“I know, that’s why I’ve been going every day, Ingrid.” My defense is pointless, and we both know that.

“Your firearm recertification is in 3 days. If your accuracy doesn’t get better by then, you won’t be allowed to carry a gun. Do you understand what that means?” She asks as if I haven’t been losing sleep over the issue.

“I know.” It means I’ll be the only agent in this fucking building who isn’t carrying a gun. “I’ll become ‘the girl who can’t carry a gun’ faster than you can say ‘fuck off’.”

A scowl comes from the agent in front of me. “Language,” she reminds. “Maybe you should ask another agent to help?”

“And let the whole building know I’m about 11 shots away from failing my recertification? Pass. I’ll just go practice some more,” I scoff, before turning on my heel to step toward the door.

“Just think about it! I know a lot of agents who aren’t dicks and who are more than willing to help!” She shouts, but I’m not listening anymore. I step out of Ingrid’s office into the cool hallway, shutting the door behind me with an almost silent click. Taking a steadying breath, my feet begin to carry me toward the place I’ve been seeing in my nightmares lately. The shooting range.

“Hey, rookie!” I hear a voice say, halting me in my tracks before I was able to close much distance between me and the stairs. I turn my head toward the voice. Leon Kennedy.

“What’s up, Agent Kennedy?” It feels formal to call him that, but while we’re in this building, it feels wrong to call him by his first name, given he is technically my superior.

“Agent Kennedy? Feels a little formal,” he says with a teasing tone, and I chuckle at him voicing my thoughts.

“Well, we are at work,” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest. Leon and I have become an unlikely pair of friends. The best agent in practically the entire country and the agent who is about to fail her firearm recertification. ‘Maybe he’d be willing to help me?’ The thought is dismissed as quickly as it appeared. ‘And make him think you’re incompetent? Pass.’

“True. Still feels weird though, Agent.”

“Wow!” I gasp in feigned surprise. “I’m not ‘rookie’ anymore?” A small smile makes its way across his lips as he chuckles.

“You’re definitely still ‘rookie’, just felt like being nice.” His comment is followed by a brief roll of my eyes.

“Okay but seriously? What’s up? I have some stuff I have to do, unfortunately,” I sigh, anxiety filling me again.

“Well, I wanted to see what you were up to.” The smile is still there. Any idiot with eyes can see how attractive Leon is. Bright baby blues, cut jawline, nose that anyone would be lucky to sit on. I have definitely had more than my fair share of daydreams starring the agent in front of me.

“I was headed down to the shooting range. I have my recertification in 3 days.” I pray he’ll opt to find something else to do.

“Oh, that shit’s a cakewalk.” Yeah, for you.

“I really want to practice a bit more. I get nervous before stuff like this.” Admitting this is not an easy feat, my cheeks dusting a light pink in embarrassment.

“Okay,” he says, and for a moment, I think he’ll depart with a ‘good luck’ and a wave. Why the hell would I be so lucky? “I’ll come with. I’ve taken that test a few times so I’ll be able to reassure you that you’ll pass with flying colors.” My eyes widen significantly, and the nerves suddenly take over my tongue.

“N-no!” I stutter, much louder than I intended. His eyebrows furrow over in confusion at the sudden outburst. “I-I just assume you’ve got better things to do.” Smooth.

“Not really. I was hoping to spend some time with you, so it’s no big deal.” Kill me now. He moves toward me, wrapping an arm around my waist to turn me and walk toward the range. Maybe it won’t be so bad.

This is going worse than I could have ever imagined. The target has maybe 3 holes in it and I’ve unloaded a whole clip of 15 shots.

“Well, it’s better than the last clip,” he chuckles, eyes still locked on my practically unscathed piece of paper. The shots didn’t even hit anything vital. I drop my head to the countertop in front of me in defeat.

“I may as well just hand over my gun right now,” I mutter into the hard surface below my forehead. Leon’s hand rests on my back comfortingly before he speaks.

“No, come on. I’ll help you,” he says, bringing the target closer to switch it out for a new one. I turn my head toward him with raised eyebrows, mostly in a ‘how can you possibly fix this?’, my temple resting against the cool surface now. “I noticed a couple of things you can fix that’ll help.” A sigh, forehead back on the counter. Leon pats my back again. “Seriously. Come on.” I rise up again, cheeks red from embarrassment as he pushes the target back to the required distance. Not that I think I’d do any better if it was closer.

“Leon, it’s pointless.”

“No, it’s not. Raise the gun.” I roll my eyes and do as he instructed. “Okay, first off, you’re locking your elbows. Loosen up.” He says, tapping a finger in the crook of my elbow. A chill runs down my spine at the contact. ‘Wow, it’s been too long since I got laid.’ I drop my elbows slightly, noting that it definitely feels awkward.

“This feels weird,” I mutter. Leon smirks.

“I’m sure it does if you’ve been firing with your elbows like that. Loosening them helps with controlling movement caused by the recoil.” He explains, and I’m grateful he’s actually telling me reasons, as it’ll make it easier to remember. “Do you fire with your feet like that?” I glance down at my position, my feet across from each other, shoulder width apart.

“Yeah?” I say, forming it as a question.

“Bring your dominant foot forward. It’ll steady you more,” He says, his tone definitely airing more on the professional side.

“Sir, yes, sir.” The words are mumbled with a light giggle at the end, and a small smile raises the corner of Leon’s lips.

“Okay try firing now.”

I squeeze the trigger slowly, the jolt surprises me which causes my eyes to close for a split second, and to steady myself, I accidentally move my feet back into their original position. The shot lands in the wall. Again. The disappointment on my face must be tangible from a mile away.

“Okay, I think I can fix this actually,” he says, and I sigh in defeat.

“Yeah I’m sure you can, super cop.”

Suddenly, as if the world is working against me, his much larger frame is pressed against my backside. Feeling his chest rise against my back and his hips grazing my ass, I breathe in a quick gasp. Completely enveloped in his scent, hard lines of muscle and heat practically radiating from him, it’s a miracle I don’t melt into a puddle right here on the concrete. His hands find my ear protection, removing the makeshift headphones from my ears, much to my confusion.

“The problem is,” he says, his breath tickling my ear, and I swear he can feel the shiver that runs down my spine, pooling in my panties. “You’re scared of it.”

“W-what?” I stutter, completely affected by his presence.

“You’re scared of the gun. The recoil scares you, and so does the sound of the shot,” he explains, voice barely above a whisper. “I think you’ll find the sound isn’t nearly as loud as you think.” His arms come up, fingers grazing along my skin which causes goosebumps to rise across my arms. He rests his hands right below my elbows, the warmth practically seeping into my bones. “Let me take the recoil. Just focus on keeping your eyes open.” His words send a wave of heat through my spine and I try and fail to not shift against him. His leg shifts forward, forcing my dominant leg into the position he recommended earlier, which presses his hips tighter against me. I almost topple over from the overwhelming sensation of heat from him mixed with his intoxicating scent filling my senses, and for a moment, my vision blurs and I squeeze my eyes shut to clear the sight. Like flipping a switch, his fingers graze my chin, lightly pressing against the edges of my jaw to get my attention.

“Leon, I can’t-”

“I believe I asked you to keep these open, sweetheart.” The agent’s voice is rough in against my ear, and I can feel the vibrations from his words rumble through his chest against my back. It feels like I peel my eyes back open as they beg to remain closed, and I attempt to get my focus on the target in front of me instead of the man behind me. “Now, squeeze the trigger.”

As I do, his hips move forward against me, and I release a gasp. Focusing on keeping my eyes open. The shot rings out, not nearly as loud as I assumed without the ear protection on. Exactly like Leon said. It makes contact with the paper, inches from the paper’s bullseye. My jaw drops at the sight. I actually hit the target.

“Good girl,” he mutters, arms dropping to rest against my waist tenderly. “Told you. You were focusing on it too much.” I feel my arms relax, pointing the barrel of the gun toward the counter as I attempt to turn around to face him, but his frame is like a brick wall.

“Leon,” I begin before another intake of air comes from my chest as Leon’s lips land on the soft skin of my neck. The reaction is immediate, my hips canting back toward him as I set the gun down.

“Nuh uh, baby. Pick that back up and finish unloading the whole clip,” he breathes into the column of my throat. “Want you to get used to this stance so you’re ready for your exam.” The light kisses quickly dissolve into small nips and bites, a moan tearing from my lips as my head lolls back, resting on his shoulder. He stops immediately.

“Leon wait-”

“I told you to finish firing the clip. It’s only 14 more shots. I think you can handle it.” A breath breaks from my chest as I lean forward, arms coming back up into the position Leon had put me in, although his hands remain on my hips this time. The gun goes off again with a bang once, twice, three times, landing in similar spots as the first shot, although they are definitely getting closer to the edge of acceptable. They are hitting the target though. As I squeeze the fourth shot, the man behind me pushes his hips forward again. “Stop thinking, sweetheart.”

“You know, if you wanted to fuck me, you could have just asked me to dinner.” The words come out much more breathy than intended, and I feel like I’m waving a neon sign that says ‘I want you to fuck me’. He chuckles lowly against me, his breath tickling my ear once again.

“I wasn’t sure how you’d take that,” he admits.

“But pushing your hips into me isn’t more forward than that?” I tease. Fifth shot. Only 9 more. He shrugs.

“I came up behind you to gauge the reaction before I did that though, didn’t I?”

“And what did my reaction tell you, Agent Kennedy?” My words are much softer now as if talking louder would shatter the mood of the room, which is alight with tension.

“That you want me to fuck you silly.” Sixth shot. “Did I read that right, rookie?”

Seventh shot. I nod gently, trying not to seem eager, despite the fact that my panties are practically ruined by this point, heat gathering in my lower belly and twisting.

“Leon, can we just-” His fingers skim over the waistline of my skirt, just barely dipping below it.

“No. Not until I know you’ll pass that recertification.” He’s gone back to nipping at my neck until he finds that patch of skin where my neck meets my shoulder. A moan leaves my lips unbidden, and I can practically feel his smirk against my skin. “Go on, sweetheart.”

Eighth shot. More than halfway done. His hand drops down further into my skirt until it’s grazing across the damp spot on my panties and I feel more than hear the low groan that he releases. “Fuck, baby.” My arms go lax as his fingers draw a single circle over my clit through the delicate lace before he moves to remove his hand altogether. 

“Leon, no,” I protest as he presses his lips against my ear, intentionally using a low rumbling tone.

“Finish. Firing.” The command springs arms back up into position.

Ninth shot. Tenth shot. Eleventh shot.

“Doing so good, baby,” The praise goes straight through me, a wave of arousal leaking through the lace. Hands dropping back down to my clit, Leon pushes my panties to the side easily, swirling a finger through the wetness pooling there before bringing it up to press cruelly against my nerve endings. “Is all this for me, sweetheart?” Twelfth shot. I nod, lips pressed tightly together to muffle the squeaks and sounds attempting to leave my throat from his attention. Thirteenth shot. One more.

As I squeeze the trigger on the final shot, Leon’s fingers press into me harshly, hitting that sweet spongy part inside unintentionally and it causes a jolt in my limbs. The shot hits the wall with a pop. I hear a brief ‘tsk-tsk’ in my ear before he speaks.

“Reload.”

“But I-”

“I said, reload. You’re gonna do all fifteen again.” Dread takes over and I feel tears pool in my eyes in frustration, and Leon coos in my ear at the sight. “Oh, poor baby. You can do this.”

“Leon, please, I can’t. I need-” I gasp, setting down the gun on the counter being careful not to flag either of us. (cause gun safety is a thing).

“What do you need, baby? Tell me.” Cocky asshole.

“You.” The word is nothing but a plea.

“Aw, baby. How about I give you what you need, and then you fire off those fifteen shots? That sound like something you can do for me, pretty girl?” I nod eagerly against his shoulder before his hand is between my shoulder blades, pressing my chest to the chilly countertop.

“What about the door?” I ask, breathless and red in the face.

“I locked it when we came in here,” he mumbles as he grips the hem of my skirt and brings it up until he can see the damp lace covering me. Did he plan this? The question surfaces but before it can leave my mouth, my panties hit the floor around my ankles. “Fuck, I wanna taste you,” he whispers, more to himself than anything, but I groan in protest.

“Please just fuck me, Leon,” I practically beg, impatience leaking from my pores at this point.

“I don’t know babe, I’m kinda hungry,” he says, and I don’t need to turn around to know his signature smirk is plastered on his face.

“I will let you later, I promise. I need you right now. Inside.” His chest presses to my back, bringing his mouth close enough to hear him as he speaks.

“Later? You saying you want more than just this?” The clinking of his belt is audible over my heavy breathing because of course, I’m the only one out of breath. I nod. “I wanna hear it, sweetheart.”

“Yeah. I like you,” I start, arms splayed out flat over the top of the counter, fingers searching for purchase.

“Maybe we should get dinner after this then?” He asks, still smiling. I nod.

“Fucking finally,” I mutter and upon hearing this, Leon laughs. Not a deep chuckle, not a teasing sound, a real laugh. An almost embarrassed laugh. Hands finding my waist and giving them a reassuring squeeze.

“Took my time with it, didn’t I?” He asks, and I can hear the nerves in his tone. He’s embarrassed. Like, really truly embarrassed.

“Yeah, you sure di-” The words are cut off as he presses the head against my entrance, dipping the tip in for the briefest of seconds before pulling out and repeating the process. It feels like hours of this torture, his teasing thrusts and slight grazes over my clit before he finally, finally, slides in to the hilt, bottoming out in one stroke. We both release groans at the sensation of my walls molding to accommodate his length, twitching, and spasming as I tighten unconsciously.

“Holy shit, pretty girl, I wasn’t expecting you to be this tight,” he growls into my spine, hunched over my frame as he collects himself. When he does, he leans back, hands moving from my hips to grasp my shoulders, bringing my front away from the surface til I’m practically upright, his cock still nestled snuggly in my heat.

“What are you-”

“Now, reload the gun.” His tone sends a wave of slick down around his length, and he rumbles a groan against my collarbone.

“What-”

“I told you that you were gonna fire off those fifteen shots.” My hands shake as I grasp the glock in my hands, reloading and then trying and failing to return to my stance, so I opt to just position my arms correctly. “Good girl.”

My finger in place, I take a deep steadying breath squeezing. Leon pulls his hips back and slams back home as the shot rings out, and I stop a scream from ripping free as my hands fly back to the counter.

“Lee, you can’t just do that.” The words come out as more of a moan than actual words, the syllables slurring together like a girl who’s had one too many drinks.

“Yet you still hit the target,” he says proudly. I look up and notice that there are fifteen holes in the paper. Sixteen total shots were taken and only one missed. Shit if I had known this is how to get good at shooting, I would have asked sooner. “Come on. You got fourteen more, sweetheart.”

The other shots follow the same routine as the first.

Shot.

Thrust.

Praise.

By the time I’m on the last three shots, my whole body feels like it’s on fire, every inch covered in sweat from his punishing thrusts, tears dripping from my eyes.

“You are doing so good, baby. Three more.” He sounds as wrecked as I feel, voice gravelly against my pulse. His hands grip beneath my elbows again, pressing them back into the correct form. “You are so close.”

The bullet hits the paper with an audible pop. His cock slams back into me, tip hitting my cervix hard enough that I’m pretty sure it’ll be bruised. Broken moans fall from my dry lips, mouth feeling akin to sandpaper.

“Good job, baby. Two more.”

“Please just come for me Leon, I can’t anymore,” My arms droop, barely able to hold the weight of the gun that I’ve grown used to by this point.

“Come on, you can do this. It’s just two more shots. You are doing so well,” he reassures before sinking his teeth into my skin, leaving a plethora of bruises and marks across the tender flesh. 

“What if I miss?” I ask, anxiety poking through, mind locked on how he stopped last time.

“I won’t stop this time. You’ve more than made up for the shot you missed earlier.” I sigh in relief. Forcing my arms back up, I try to steady myself before Leon’s fingers find my clit and I squeal, completely losing my aim due to the tight circles he’s rubbing. “Take the shot, baby.”

I fire, bullet catching the edge of the bullseye and I feel a swell of pride before Leon presses a deep thrust accompanied by a swirl on my clit, and his name spills from my lips as a plea.

“Please come for me, please.”

“Tell you what, if you get a bullseye, then I’ll cream this little pussy, how’s that sound, baby?” The pace of his fingers doesn’t change, and I can really only nod, mind barely able to remember why we were in here in the first place.

Taking aim. Deep breath. Squeeze.

The bullet lands dead in the middle of the red target. I practically drop the gun from my fingers, relief overtaking my senses.

“Atta girl,” Leon groans, pressing my frame onto the counter as he picks up speed to a fast pace, leaning down to crowd against me. My fingers reach up behind me, bent at the elbows, to cling to his hair that grazes against my temple as my eyes squeeze shut. His name is a broken sound coming from my lips as the coil in my gut tightens with each twirl of his fingers and each pass of his tip against my sweet spot. “Open your eyes when you come for me, rookie.”

Most of his words are just a jumble as the coil snaps and a scream rips from my already sore throat, but I can make out a ‘good girl’ and ‘creaming my cock so good, gorgeous’ here and there through the haze of my orgasm. It takes a few more thrusts before Leon groans and curses, lips pressed to my spine as he spills himself inside my still-spasming hole.

It takes a few moments for us to move again, deep breaths the only audible sound in the silent room. He’s the first to move (him and his damn stamina), sitting up to stand before slowly pulling his length out, watching as his seed trickles out slowly and groaning at the sight. Leon reaches down, pulling my panties back up and adjusting them into place tenderly, mindful of the soreness he had no doubt was blooming. With a small tug and some slight wobbling on my end, Leon helps me into a standing position facing him now, small of my back barely resting against the edge of the counter as his hands hold me steady.

“You alright?” He asks, and I giggle and smile in response, leaning my face forward into his shoulder. He chuckles to himself, pressing a kiss to my hair. “I mean it, you okay?”

“Mhm. I’m good. You owe me dinner though.”

“Of course, need me to carry you?” I nod through a wave of sleepiness.

“Wait,” I say, hands on his chest as he looks at me, blue eyes shining with concern. “Can you kiss me?” I ask, shyness returning full force, and he laughs again. In favor of answering, he leans forward, pressing his lips against mine in a sweet, tender kiss. His lips are dry, as evidence of our exertion. We pull back from the kiss with dumb smiles decorating our faces, and he pulls my skirt down to cover my panties, planting another quick kiss on my mouth.

“So where do you want to go to eat?”

I step out into the hallway, flat shoes making far less noise than my usual heels. Leon looks at me expectantly.

“So?” I skip up to him, lips finding his as my arms wrap around his broad shoulders. Pulling back, I shoot him a smile before speaking.

“Guess who just passed her firearm recertification with flying colors?” I tease.

“Nice! See? I told you, cakewalk.”

Tags: @house-of-kolchek