#or else will would be wearing short shorts

[osachiyo]

searched pervy xavier here and am very disappointed that i do not share this notion with anyone else 😔

tws: n/sfw content, panty stealing, getting caught, mentions of non-consensual recording, masturbation, reader brings other ppl home, he’s a lil pathetic but we love him, 0.6k+ wc, jealous!xavier, he’s a lil nasty tbh, my writing is messy here cuz I wrote this on a whim apologies if there are any errors ₊ 𓂃 also nonnie me 🤝 you … but imagine him as your pervy roommate . ps. art by rororo_mg on X + star dividers made by @saradika-graphics (check emout!)

Perv roommate!Xavier thinks you’re so damn cute, honestly, you're just the sweetest thing ever. Every morning, he can't help but smile when he sees you in the kitchen, making breakfast for the both of you. There's something about the way you move so effortlessly, humming to yourself while you cook, that completely melts his heart and makes his cock stir in his sweats. He can’t help but stare at the little shorts barely covering your plump ass fully.. fantasizing about walking up behind you and bending you over the kitchen counter. Xavier imagined how your cunt would taste on his tongue- how your pussy would gush in his face as he ate you out like a man starved.

perv roommate!Xavier makes a habit to purposefully drop stuff in front of you, giving you his best puppy eyes and requesting that you pick it up for him, and it worked like a charm every time. Little did you know that it was only an excuse to have you bend over in front of him— azure eyes raking over the tempting view you put on, saliva gathering in his mouth as he stared at the roundness of your ass. Hell, he could even see your puffy pussy lips through your tight shorts— were you wearing them on purpose?

perv roommate!Xavier who knows about your little toys— the baby pink vibrator that you use at night, not knowing your roommate is pleasuring himself to your sweet little moans and yelps. His hand squeezing his cock tightly, trying to imagine how your soft cunt would feel around him— or even your cute little mouth. He’d try and match his thrusts to your moans, and it makes him cum embarrassingly quick— sticky white goop spilling on his bedroom floor and hands, leaving him panting. Maybe he should set up a camera in your room sometime..

perv roommate!Xavier who gets jealous when you bring a random guy home one night, telling him that you’ll try not to be loud. ‘Why would you bring another guy home when he was right there?’ — he thought, as he heard the wet, lewd sounds of you getting fucked by another man. Fuck, it made him mad but also he couldn’t help but get turned on by it. The sounds of your bed creaking- slamming against the wall, your wails and cries of pleasure as you got pounded into the sheets made Xavier’s cock throb in his pants. God, he really was a freak— getting off to another man fucking the girl he liked.

perv roommate!Xavier who would insist on doing laundry for the both of you— but that's only an excuse to steal your panties. He can't help it, y'know? They're so cute and pretty.. and just perfect to wrap around his cock while he fucks his fist with the thought of you in his mind. Sometimes he even likes to sniff 'em, groaning out loud as the scent of your pussy floods his senses. He can't help but lap his tongue over the small wet spot on the thin material, suckling at the spot where your clit would be— moaning and whining as spurts of pre leaked from his cock.

perv roommate!Xavier who was currently jerking his cock with your used panties wrapped around his cock in the living room— shamelessly getting off to the thought of fucking your sweet, warm little hole while you were at work. He was so focused on how you would feel around him, that he didn't even hear the front door open. You could only gasp at the sight— his cream colored sweater pulled up and pants pulled down, and clenching and unclenching with each pump of his hand- wait.. were those your panties?! Before you could even reprimand him— or even get a word in, for that matter, Xavier's head whipped to your direction as he heard the small noise— his panicked blue eyes catching your own shocked ones.

"Oh. Shit."

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

solo chan masturbation

warnings: gn reader, mentions of oral, unprotected sex, imagined sex while someone else is in the room? idk how to explain that lol

an: am i posting a smutty drabble at 9am on a sunday? the lords day? yes, yes i am. in christopher’s name we pray.

masterlist

‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼ adults only • mdni ‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼

chris leaned back in his chair, legs spread wide, hands rubbing over his clothed bulge. he liked to take his time, would much rather go home to you, or at the very least give you a call. but it was late and he knew you were asleep. he needed to finish this track. it was due tomorrow, but he couldn’t focus. his cock was so painfully hard.

he closed his eyes, doing his best to picture you kneeling in front of of him, hidden under the desk. it was a fantasy he conjured up quite often actually. your cute little hands hooking in the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down to his ankles. he did just that, lifting his hips off the chair to scoot his clothing down his legs. he imagined your face, your pretty eyes, looking up at him from under his cock. your little tongue giving quick licks to his balls as his heavy shaft rested against your cheek.

his fingertips ghosted over his leaking tip as he imagined it. he reminded himself he needed to be quick. he had work to do. he couldn’t wear himself out too much. just a quickie. just enough to clear you from his system for a little while so he could focus.

as he wrapped his hand around himself, he imagined it was your lips. he imagined he was sliding into your warm mouth, instead of his fist. one of your favorite things to do was have him in your mouth, he knew that. so it happened frequently and he could picture it vividly in his mind. what your tongue felt like as it laid flat against the underside of his shaft, teasing the vein that ran to his tip.

sometimes when he was feeling impatient, he would tangle his fingers in your hair and force you to take him down your throat. the tip of your nose brushing his little dark curls at his base as you gagged around him. he loved the sound of it. loved the feeling of your drool sliding down his skin, dripping onto the floor.

“fuck..” he breathed, eyes shut tight, lost in his fantasy.

sometimes he would let himself wonder what it would be like to have you suck him off under the desk while there were other people in the room. of course, he would never actually do this. but sometimes, like in this moment, he let his mind wander to the thought of you taking all of him, your lips brushing against his balls, as seungmin recorded his part in the booth.

he imagined your groans leaking out from around his cock, trying to remain quiet as you touched yourself over your clothes as you pleased him. he thought about what it would be like to give seungmin direction, tell him to hold this note longer, pronounce this word like this, as he fucked himself into your mouth.

would he be able to keep it a secret? would he be able to hold himself back? or would he have to tell seungmin that his part was finished, just so he could get him to leave. so he could pull you up from the floor and bend you over the desk, your face against the keyboard, accidentally erasing all the work he just did with seungmin. but he wouldn’t care.

he imagined burying his cock deep inside you, finally getting some relief.

“shh.” he whispered aloud to the empty room, talking to imaginary you. “just let me— fuck. just let me use you.”

the sound of him fucking his fist filled the dark studio. but in his mind you were begging him to cum, begging him to fill you up.

the thought of your fucked out expression as you looked over your shoulder at him, your lust filled eyes and messy hair, your drool covered chin, sent him over the edge.

“fuck.. fuck i’m cumming..” his cock twitched in his hand and he quickly reached for a tissue from the box he kept just for this reason. he placed it against his tip, catching all of his release. what a waste, he thought. it belonged deep inside you, not in this tissue. that was your cum. it belonged to you.

he caught his breath, cleaning himself up and tossing the tissue into the trash. the embarrassment washed over him then as he opened his eyes and returned to the real world. the studio was still dark and empty, the clock read 3:45 am instead of 3:15, and his computer was still open to the song that had been frustrating him so.

though embarrassed, he also felt relieved, his body felt relaxed. he pulled his shorts back up and straightened himself in his chair. he was determined to get this finished.

so he could go home and fuck you properly.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

♡ pls reblog if you liked it! it truly helps a lot and makes me smile :) ♡

©hyunjins-orange-slice-too i do not give permission for this work or any of my work to be translated, copied, or reposted.

[beckwritesif]

The vast stretches of lone trees and wild grass of the rural countryside lures the ego overboard, pulling consciousness off course into addiction, delusion and seduction’s disintegrating madness. You barely pull yourself home from there every evening, the sun telling your time, the birds your weather forecast. One day you might not return home at all.

From the Mud is a Midwest gothic inspired horror set in a solitary countryside occupied only by two small towns and stretches of untamed nature. You play a troubled cowboy/girl/puncher who‘s ground deep into a maddening, repetitive routine that a string of deaths suddenly upends. The sheriff of the neighboring town along with a driven journalist and an old friend whose bridge you’ve long since burnt comes to town having heard the news. As you’re hunting for the culprit and running from yourself, your quiet life on the ranch is disturbed, forcing you to keep your cards close and choose your company carefully. But the most pressing matter proves to be whether you can trust your own mind.

From the Mud

☆ Interactive fictional psychological horror written in choice script

Features

Play as either a man, woman, or other

Choose your appearance from overall features to minor details

Experience nuanced romance as either straight, gay, or bi, or forgo romance altogether

Choose whether you’re religious or not in an overly christian rural town

Experience the world react differently towards you depending on who you identify as

Get wrapped up in the chaos to solve the mystery of several murders

Lose touch with reality and slowly question everything around you

Reject the possibility of unnatural forces at play, or believe

Rot in a jail cell

Ride a horse!

Play a game mostly not driven by numbered stats but meaningful actions and a fuck ton of trackers

Demo TBA soon | pinterest

Basics about some of the important characters and other below

The Sheriff ☆ Zachariah “Zach” Mallory ☆ a man in his mid thirties

Sheriff Mallory works from his office in Two Rocks, and though his occupation means working closely with other people and seeing to their needs, it would be indolent to describe him as being good with people. At all. Being abrasive and ill-natured, the man does, however, suit the role of authority well. When the angry crease on his forehead soften, you might find there is something else within his tired eyes.

The sheriff has dark brown, chin-length hair and a matching little effort short beard. His sand-colored skin is sun-kissed from being outside, the circles under his eyes almost a purple kind of shade. Under a heavy set of brows sits a pair of dark blue, almost stormy gray eyes. Standing at an imposing height, Mallory is nigh refused anything, and can’t be forced to wear the ugly uniform his rank requires. Instead, he sports a simple white fitted t-shirt and a pair of well-loved denim jeans.

The Journalist ☆ Candy Tillman ☆ a woman in her early thirties

Working for the local news station in Two Rocks, Ms. Tillman has through work experience and excellent mentoring from her predessessor become a hound chasing stories and truths. She is both idealistic and romanticizing (that which shouldn’t), and yet entirely unsusceptable to bullshit. When her facade falters who will accept her then?

The woman with the sweetest name has blonde hair that falls to the middle of her shoulder blades, which she loves to blowout. Her tan skin is contoured by a natural style of makeup, her small, light blue eyes painted. Candy is average height, reaching taller stature with her go-to minimalist pumps. The journalist prefers simple, feminine silhouttes of clothing, keeping up with the times.

The Best Friend ☆ Blythe Abel Goodwin ☆ a woman in her mid twenties

Blythe is your best friend who you grew up with in Ashley and who stuck around when everyone left, though you know she would’ve loved to leave just as much as you once did. In response to the death of her dreams and the narrow-minded opinions of the general inhabitation of the area, she has defiantly become a person of unique and unpredictable character. You’ve known each other through thick and thin, but is there a side to her yet to be discovered?

Your childhood friend is a contrast-filled woman just under average height. Long, black, cascading hair falls from her head down to her mid-back. Choppily home-cut bangs frame her small face. Her fair skin turns rosy in the cold. Blythe’s almond eyes that are sometimes obscured by a pair of reading glasses, are hazel. She wears whatever the fuck she wants.

The Colleague ☆ Ford Wiley Mallory ☆ a man in his early twenties

Ford Wiley is the younger half-brother of Sheriff Mallory and your colleague on the ranch. Working there only half-time, the younger Mallory is dedicated and driven only in the field of his passion; music. His band has only ever played at the local bar, though. Reserved and perhaps somewhat more thin-skinned than most living out on the countryside, Wiley makes do with refreshing optimism. Whether this optimism is genuine or fabricated is yet to be revealed.

Your part-time cowboy coworker has long, wavy brown hair that he sometimes makes an effort to style, and otherwise lets it live its own life. He and his half-brother have little in common, appearance included; Wiley has olive skin covered in freckles. His eyes are dark brown, and he is of average height. The musician’s clothes consist of unwanted (by himself) hand-me-downs from Zachariah and ill-gotten items.

The Old Friend ☆ Sawyer “Saw” Brennan ☆ a gender selectable person in their late twenties (m/f)

You grew up with Sawyer along with Blythe, and the three of you braved your childhood and youth in this godforsaken place for years. But they left when things got hardest, and you haven’t been able to get past it even after all these years. Over the years Sawyer has been away they’ve grown into a person you barely know anymore, and you struggle with their sudden return. Will you be able to understand and forgive them for leaving?

Sawyer has inky brown curly hair, worn long (f) or short (m) and loose, carefully taken care of and styled. They have warm brown skin and sharp eyes to match. Your old friend is tall, fitting their frame into oversized graphic t-shirts and either color matched sweats or baggy jeans.

My intentions with this game: It is not supposed to be a beautiful story, it is supposed to be ugly. Writing this game in the way I am is my taking a step away from perfection and seeing where my unpolished writing takes the story. I have been ruled by fear of inadequacy and a desire for ‘perfect timing’ long enough. If I continue to wait for the ‘right moment’ to create, I will end up not creating at all. My only desire now is to simply create, and continue doing so until I have something to show for it.

[dustpages]

PornMum

I opened the front door of my flat with a loud bang. I was pissed, the shooting was called off last minute and I had travelled for two hours to reach the location.

" Hi, Mum." my little boy greeted me from his bedroom. 

It was the middle of the summer and the only thing he had been doing so far was reading and playing video games, I was aware he didn't like to socialize with his peers. I was his only parent, his father left us when he was just born.

" Honey I'll be to you in a second.” I yelled across the house walking to the kitchen to get myself something to drink. I was thirsty and sweaty, even though I had dyed my hair blonde and I was wearing just a top and skirt the heat was unbearable. 

I took some cold water from the fridge and drank it at once.  

I put the glass back in its place and headed to my son’s room, knocking softly before entering. He looked up from the screen and smiled. "How have you been?" I asked him sitting beside him.

He shrugged. "Alright, just read some manga."

"You need to go out more." I opined, trying not to sound too harsh but concerned about him being stuck at home all day long without seeing anyone else. 

He swiftly dodged my gaze and sighed deeply. " Whatever. Why are you home so early today?" he questioned. 

I sat on his bed. " My last schedule was cancelled last minute." I explained without giving him too much information.

He was just 12 years old and being told I was one of the most successful, requested and appreciated JAV actresses in Japan wasn't something I would share with him. He knew me as Mina, the kind and loving mother who always cooked delicious dinner for him. Not the one that was an adult film actress. 

"Oh, what happened then?" he asked innocently. 

I tried to explain my situation without making any reference to the industry I worked for. " The director told me they wanted to postpone it. So I came home." 

He nodded. " I see."

I glanced at him, looking him in the eyes. " Hey, do you want to eat something? I'm hungry, let’s prepare something together." I suggested with a smile. He agreed.

We went to the kitchen hand in hand, he was still short and thin for his age. But his blue eyes made up for it. We both loved cooking and baking, especially him since he enjoyed eating sweets, I did my best to make sure he had a balanced diet.

While we were cooking some of the tomato sauce for the spaghetti landed on my clothes, staining both top and skirt. 

" Dammit." he cussed. He has stirred the sauce with too much energy causing the little mess on my outfit.

" Do not worry, honey." I reassured him and got off my skirt and top right there in the kitchen. His eyes widened in surprise.

"What are you doing, mum?!" he said, sounding embarrassed.

I giggled and caressed his cheek. " Don’t be silly, this is nothing. You’ve seen my butt many times before." I teased him, bending over to clean the stains from the floor. 

My ass was on full display for him and I could feel him staring at my cheeks, so plump and round, my pussy lips covered with just my small panties. It was nothing new for him to see me almost completely nude since I rarely wore anything around the house but his reaction was strange, he looked flushed and nervous. 

“ Mum... Are you going to take your underwear off as well?" he stuttered. 

I turned around to look at him. " What?! No! Of course not." I laughed nervously. " Unless you asked for it."

He became red as the tomato sauce. " I don't know what you are talking about." he ran out of the kitchen and into the living room.

I sighed and turned off the stove. Slowly I made my way to him, who was sat the sofa fidgeting with his hands on in lap.

" What's wrong baby?" I asked him sitting next to him.

He didn't say anything for a good minute, busy in deep thought. " I do have a problem in my underwear," he affirmed not sparing a glance to me.

"  How come?" I inquired.

" They're wet." he whispered so low I barely heard it. " And it doesn't stop leaking." he continued. 

His words sent shivers down my spine, I couldn't believe it. 

" Let me see." I gently pulled him to stand and unbuttoned his trousers. His briefs were soaked through with precum. 

" This is normal honey. All boys your age leak precum now and then. Especially when they see a hot girl." I told him trying to reassure him. He blushed again.

"It never occurred before." he panicked.

"Well, maybe you liked what you saw earlier." I mused.

 " Maybe you liked your mum’s body." I added teasingly. 

" That’s ok honey, it’s normal to think your mother is sexy." I encouraged him.

He seemed to relax a bit. " But it’s not appropriate." he complained.

I stood up and cupped his face. " Nothing is wrong, honey. You’re my son, but also a boy." I comforted him, feeling somehow attracted to him.

" Now, if you excuse me I'm going to change. You can stay here or join me." I winked at him. His eyes fixed on mine for a few seconds before nodding in agreement. 

As soon as we were inside my bedroom I closed the door and locked it. Then I stripped from my bra and panties. My son looked at me wide-eyed, taking in my naked form.

" Come here." I said walking to him. I felt him tremble as our bodies touched. My hands caressed his back, slowly descending to squeeze his bum. 

"Do you like it?" I asked him. He nodded shyly.

I kissed his neck softly, moving my hands to grab his cock through his trousers. He gasped as I stroked him over his pants. " Take it out for me." I commanded him. 

He obeyed me pulling out his dick. It was bigger than expected for a boy of his age, yet far from the ones I had to deal with at work. I gave him a few strokes while kissing his neck and biting his earlobes. He moaned in pleasure. 

" Mum, my member doesn't get soft." he affirmed worriedly in between moans. 

"  It’s ok honey. I'll make it soft." I assured him. I knelt in front of him, licking the tip of his penis. His legs wobbled.

" Mum..." he moaned my name. I took him fully in my mouth sucking and bobbing my head, tasting him for the first time.

I worked shipped his dick for less than 2 minutes and he shuddered in front of me. "I- I'm feeling a warm sensation spreading all over my body." he stated worried. " What is happening?"

I chucked releasing his dick from my mount and enveloping it into my hand. " You are cumming." I explained stroking faster.

" Am I supposed to feel something like this!?" he shouted losing control over himself.

I kept stroking until he exploded all over my breasts, covering them with his load. He fell on the bed exhausted, breathing heavily. 

I wiped my chest clean using some tissues and lay next to him. " See, it’s ok baby. There is nothing to be ashamed of." I told him smiling. He nodded still catching his breath.

" Mum can you explain to me what just happened?" he questioned me shyly.

" You see,  honey, you reached orgasm. Your member released semen and it felt good." I explained to him.

His eyes widen in shock. " Does it happen to women as well?" 

I laughed at his ingenuity. " It does, you made me  so horny that I want to have sex right now." I confessed.

He blushed but said nothing. Instead, he stared at my breasts. I could tell he wanted me to. 

" You want to fuck me, don't you?" I asked bluntly, biting my lower lip.

He looked at me puzzled. " What does it even mean?" 

I chuckled. " Let me show you instead."

I climbed on top of him and started grinding against his thighs. He hardened instantly. 

I knew I should have gone easy on him. It was his first time and me being used to dealing with men more experienced and older than him was a risk for him, if I did go to ride him the same way I usually did with other cocks he would break in half. But I couldn’t help it, I craved him so much. 

I was horny to stop and he looked so cute under me, so innocent. I needed to fuck him, I needed him to fill me and stretch my insides.

I rubbed my slit against his hardness, feeling the head of his dick poking me. 

" What are you doing?" he whimpered.

" I'm riding your dick baby." I moaned. I aligned myself perfectly with his member and impaled myself on it. He let out a sharp intake of air as he felt himself inside of me. 

The feeling was satisfying, he wasn't big enough to give me any issue stretching my pussy. I started to move my hips up and down, feeling his cock hitting my cervix each time I lowered myself onto him. I was moaning loudly and panting hard.

He was enjoying it as well, he held my waist firmly with his hand. I leaned forward and kissed him, feeling his tongue dancing with mine. Our teeth clicked together as I bounced on him harder and harder.

As I was expecting his member throbbed inside of me after a few minutes. I had to play smart not to make him feel bad about his performance, even though I was enjoying it thoroughly. 

" Baby, I can't take it anymore." I lied. " Please cum."  

His eyes lit up. " Really?"

I nodded and kept bouncing on him, not letting him stop thrusting into me. " Yes, cum inside of me." I begged.

He gasped at my words and buried his face into my neck as he unloaded himself deep into my womb. His arms wrapped tightly around my back, holding me close to him.

When he finished pumping his seed into me we collapsed on the mattress, panting and sweating profusely. " Did I do a good job?" he asked me shyly. I kissed his forehead. " Perfect."

I couldn't afford to tell him I wanted to keep going all night long." You can sleep here, tonight." I informed him. 

He hugged me tightly. " Thank you mum."

I wrapped my arms around him as well, feeling how his heart was still beating fast and strong.

The next few days flew like always, I had been called for a few shootings and my baby kept staying in his room days in and days out. 

It was a tiring Friday night, I plopped on the sofa wearing a white top and a matching pair of shorts. I had worked all the afternoon filming different scenes.

" Baby, I'm back." I called my son.

He came into the living room carrying his laptop, he was dead serious. " We need to talk." his blue eyes made me shiver more than the air conditioner. 

" Wha.." I tried to speak, but he cut me off. " Hear me out first."

It was unusual for him to be this cold with me. " I was doing some of my homework today and one of the requests was to look on Google for some information about our relatives and guess what happened as soon as I entered your name?" he was slightly losing his temperament. 

"  I don't understand." I said confused.

" All the results were about you and your career as AV Idol!!" he exclaimed. " All those fucking films you've done! And how people call you 'JAV Queen' because you are the most requested actress!" 

I stared at him shocked. " Well.."

" Well, what?" he interrupted me again. " You told me while we were fucking that you couldn't take anymore, and yet your last video that hit the charts was you begging a man with an 11 inches dick to keep fucking you and filling your tight pussy!"

My jaw dropped. " Um... I didn't want to lie to you." I stammered. I wanted to hide under the rug.

He shook his head. " Of course, you didn't!" he yelled. His little body was shaking in anger.

" Baby let me explain." I talked in a lower tone.

" Alright." he affirmed. " Explain to me the reason why you lied to me during our first time."

I sighed, hoping for the best. " Because I wanted to make you feel good about yourself." 

He glared at me. " If you cared about me you would have told me the truth." he huffed.

" Baby!" I pleaded. " You have seen in my videos how wild I am, I didn't want to break you or to scare you. And I wanted you to have a special time with your mother, no matter the circumstances."

He crossed his arms and pouted. " Is it true you love other men more than me?"

I shook my head. " Absolutely not! I love you more than anything in the world, but I enjoy sex with them."

" I'm well aware of that now, no need to remark it." he spat.

I sighed and walked in front of him. " What do you want me to do to make it up to you?"

I raised his chin defiantly. " Tell me."

He avoided my gaze. " Have you saved enough money?" he questioned. 

" More than you and I can spend in a lifetime." I replied honestly. " Why?"

He stared at me dead in the eyes. " I want you to retire, to leave that disgusting industry behind you and be just my mother, the one who is just special to me. Just my mother."

I looked at him, feeling conflicted. " Baby, money aside, how are we gonna deal with the lack of affection I crave for?" I asked him softly.

His eyes flamed. " I crave for you. I'm young and you could mould me as you please to fulfil all you need." his voice was firm.

I smirked widely. "  You do, huh?". " Yes." he nodded.

" Show me then." I challenged him. 

And he did, he proved to be more eager and greedy than any other man I had ever met. He ate me out like he was starving, making me scream and squirt in his mouth.

" Bed." I moaned, my legs were trembling from my climax. He took my hand and walked to my bedroom. 

" Baby, we are not done yet. You know, right.?" I asked him kneeling in the middle of the mattress. 

He nodded and crawled towards me. I reached down and grabbed his dick into my hand.

" I'm gonna make you ready." I stroked his length slowly and licked his head, taking him into my mouth and sucking hungrily. " You taste so sweet, baby." I praised him, feeling his precum leaking on my tongue. 

He moaned in delight and grabbed my head with his hands, pushing me down on his cock. I gagged a bit as he fucked my mouth.

After a few minutes, I pushed him away from me and lay down. " Fuck me now, baby." I urged him.

He positioned himself in between my thighs, lining up his member to my pussy and pressing it into me. He filled me, his thickness stretched my inner walls and I screamed in pain and pleasure.

" Harder, baby." I egged him on. His thrusts were slow at the beginning but became rougher as he gained confidence.

He slammed into me furiously and I let out screams of joy. He grabbed my ankles and placed them on his shoulders, pounding me relentlessly.

I felt him pulsing inside of me and squeezed my muscles around him.

" Cum, baby." I demanded.

He let out a strangled cry and released himself into my hole. I felt his hot seed coating my insides and it was glorious, so much so it triggered my orgasm and I climaxed around him. He collapsed on top of me, spent.

" That was great baby." I purred satisfied, stroking his head.

" Can we do it again?" he asked curiously.

" We will. Soon." I promised him. " You’re gonna be the king of this house from now on." 

He laughed. " Funny. Are you gonna retire for real?" he questioned. 

" I will, but there is one last shot I need to do the day after tomorrow that I cannot cancel so out of the blue." I replied. " But I want you to be on set with me, to see how everything goes." I proposed.

" Ok." he agreed. I cuddled with him and drifted away, thinking of all the dirty things I wanted to do with him. 

The day of the shoot arrived and I was nervous but excited at the same time, not only because it would be my last scene but also because my son would be present to watch it. 

We drove to the location which was a luxurious mansion, I had shot here a few times already and I knew exactly where I would find my colleagues and the crew. 

We reached the dressing room and my son followed me in, watching as I undressed and put on the costume chosen for the occasion. It was a black dress and a pair of high heels.

" It's not bad." he commented as I spun around to check how my dress fit me from behind. 

I looked at him amused. " Just not bad?" 

He looked on the floor. " You are extremely sexy." he mumbled.

I laughed. " You're such a good boy." I praised him. I leaned down and pecked his forehead, noticing as he blushed. 

I cupped his chin. " Remember, this is all for fun, and you need to remember that."

He nodded solemnly. " I promise to behave." 

" Good boy." I kissed him again.

The producer of the film came into the room to fetch me. " Hey Mina, we are all ready for you outside. This will be your last scene, do your best.

I grinned. " Of course." I waved at my son and left the dressing room. 

I stepped on set and found my partner for the shoot, the famous 11-inch dick named Jax.  He was a tall guy with broad shoulders, dark brown hair and hazel eyes. His cock was so thick that the guys on set used to compare it to a cucumber. 

" Hello, Mina." he greeted me with a smile.

I returned it. " Nice to meet you again."

" So, we will be playing as lovers cheating on their spouses and we end up having passionate sex." the producer explained.

" Sounds perfect." I approved, already knowing the script. 

" Action!" the director shouted. 

The scene began with us dancing and drinking alcohol at the party hosted in the house. It went smoothly until we reached the part where we were meant to kiss passionately and start fooling around. 

Everything changed when he slipped his hand into my dress and grabbed my breast. My eyes darted to my son standing behind the camera, he looked surprised by the sudden touch but not upset. He had an odd expression on his face, a mixture of confusion and lust. 

The scene proceeds with us groping each other. Jax pinched my nipples and slid his hand up my thigh and to my mound, caressing it through the fabric of my panties. I gasped in pleasure.

I glanced at my son again, he had a hard time hiding his boner and I felt sorry for him. " Sorry honey." I mouthed to him, hoping he could read my lips. 

He didn't seem bothered and gestured for me to continue.

We moved to the sofa and the director ordered us to remove our clothes. I obliged stripping out of my dress, leaving me bare apart from my bra and panties. Jax followed my example.

"  Let's try some foreplay, Jax can you eat her out." the director said, addressing my partner.

Jax didn't need to be told twice, he pushed me onto the sofa and settled himself in between my legs. 

His tongue was very skilled and had me writhing in pleasure within seconds, he licked my labia and my clit, sucking on my nub greedily. I moaned loudly as I felt myself nearing my release. 

My hand pushed him deeper into my folds, urging him to go on. He lapped at me eagerly, sending sparks through my body.

I looked at my son again and found him touching himself through his trousers, his face was red in embarrassment. I felt sorry for putting him in that position, but at the same time, it was arousing to see him so affected by the sight of me getting eaten out. 

Jax stopped suddenly and my gaze snapped back on him as he kneeled in front of me, holding his throbbing member. " She tastes wonderful." he complimented. 

I spread my legs further inviting him to enter me. He plunged into me, stretching me like a rag doll. I arched my back at the sudden invasion and moaned. 

" Mina, you have a tight pussy." he grunted. " I'm not even halfway in."

He began thrusting, slowly at first, allowing me to adjust to his size. Once he was fully seated in my channel he picked up his pace, pounding me fiercely.

I moaned at his ministration, my hands clawed at the cushion of the sofa.

" Oh god!" I shouted in pleasure. " Yes! Fuck me like that." I cried out as he hit my spot, rubbing it repeatedly.

My body trembled as he kept ramming me, I was at his complete mercy. My orgasm came overbearingly, causing me to convulse wildly. 

He fucked me through my climax, not stopping in the slightest. 

He was proving himself to be one of the best actors in the business. " Change position." the director ordered. 

We ended up in a reverse cowgirl. My legs were still trembling from the aftershock of my climax but I managed to sit on him, impaling myself on his cock.

I started to bounce on him, rubbing myself against his pelvis. His hands grabbed my tits from behind and kneaded them roughly. 

I was getting close again he rubbed my clit with his big fingers, making me clench around his shaft. " Yes!" I screamed, reaching another orgasm.

I collapsed on him, feeling exhausted from the intensity of my climaxes. He lifted me from his member, causing me to whine from the loss of him.

He pushed me face down on the sofa and entered me doggy style. 

His thrusts were savage and violent, he pounded me relentlessly. I loved it, the feeling of being owned by him. My body shook as he slammed into me, my tits jiggling.

His hands gripped my waist, keeping me still and preventing me from escaping his onslaught. 

" Fuck yes! Give it all to me." I screamed as he drilled into me.

"You adore my fat dick, don't you slut?" he groaned in my ear. I nodded eagerly.

Suddenly he slowed his thrusts and his member started to twitch inside of me. " Ahhh! Cum inside of me!" I shouted, squeezing him tightly.

He moaned and spurted his load into me, coating my insides with his seed. His movements were becoming slower and slower until he stopped entirely. He pulled out of me leaving me empty.

" Cut!" the director announced. 

I felt dizzy from the number of climaxes I had reached and tired from the scene. Jax helped me stand up and I thanked him. My gaze wandered searching for my son, finding him sitting far behind the camera and staring at me with an unreadable expression. 

He approached me with hesitant steps, avoiding eye contact. " So, you liked it, huh?" I teased him. 

" At first yes, while you were still making eye contact with me." he asserted. " But not at all while you two got lost fucking like animals." 

I chuckled and patted his head. " Baby, you gotta understand  that sex is not all about romance, sometimes you just wanna get lost in the act."

He avoided responding to me and walked back to the car. I pitied him, he must have been hurt by the way I acted during the shoot. 

I got cleaned and bid my farewell to all the cast, I found my baby boy playing with his phone while leaning on the car. He barely acknowledged my presence when I sat next to him. I drove back home, not daring to ask him how he felt.

" I'll order some dinner and we can watch a movie together, how does it sound?" I proposed as soon as we were in the safety of our house. 

He shrugged and kept on his phone. I decided to give him space and not bother him for the rest of the evening. 

I woke up to the sound of a knock on the door. " May I come in?" his voice was low and tender.  

I sat up and opened the door. " Of course baby, what are you doing here so late?"

He walked into my room and closed the door behind him. I could smell his cologne, a scent so fresh and enticing. " Can I sleep here tonight?" he asked shyly. 

" Of course." I welcomed him.

He hesitated not moving a centimetre. " Baby, if you want to be my partner you gotta be more confident within yourself." I began. 

" I quit as you requested, now let me show you how good I am." I added signaling him to lie with me on the bed.

He complied and snuggled next to me. I cupped his face. " Don't you want me, baby?" I whispered seductively. 

"I do." he confirmed. I kissed his lips, tasting his sweetness.

" Good. Now, let’s take off these pesky clothes." I cooed.

He stripped quickly, showing me his lean body and his hard dick. It was still impressive considering he hadn't hit puberty yet.

I removed my shirt and panties and straddled him. " Show me what you can do." I dared him.

He held my hips and guided me onto his dick, impaling me easily, I squeaked in shock. He moved his hips under me and I bounced on him, my tits swaying wildly as he pumped into me from below. 

I leaned forward and kissed his forehead, feeling the sweat droplets forming on his skin. I pressed my chest to his and kissed him passionately as he fucked me.

He reached up and played with my tits, fondling them gently. I moaned at the pleasure of it all. His finger traced circles around my nipple causing me to shudder.

He picked up speed and his thrusts became more intense, slamming into me repeatedly. I cried out in bliss from his ministrations. 

" You are gonna came me cum." I told him staring into his eyes.  

His eyes darkened. " I know, you are." he affirmed.

" Yes, baby." I moaned. I rubbed myself against him feeling his thickness fill me.

He grasped my waist and rolled us over, putting himself in control. He pinned me beneath him and fucked me savagely, his thrusts powerful and deep.

" Ahhh!" I cried out, my body shivering in ecstasy. " Make me yours." I begged.

He grunted, his expression twisted in pleasure. " Mine." he muttered. " Only mine."

His body tensed and his cock pulsed inside of me. He growled and spilt himself into me, filling my hole with his load. 

I orgasmed around him, squeezing his dick and milking him for more. 

We stayed connected for a few moments, breathing heavily, sweat dripping on our bodies.

I rolled my hips around his sensitive length. " You did good, baby." I made him moan. " But mommy demands more." 

He sighed happily but concern. " I'll do my best." he promised.

" Oh baby, I won't let you do anything less than your best and more." I rolled us once more. " You stay still and let me take care of you." 

He nodded. " Whatever you want."

I began to move my hips slowly, rotating and grinding around his semi-erect cock. His breath hitched in response. 

"You want my mouth again?" I teased. He nodded vigorously. 

I crawled down his body and took him into my mouth, sucking and licking his head and shaft.

His member grew bigger in my mouth as I pleasured it with my tongue. His hips bucked up as I sucked him, eager for more of me. 

He gasped and claimed me on him, I aligned him at my entrance and sank onto him, taking his length in one go. 

He cursed at the feeling of my inner walls gripping his hardness. His eyes roamed my body, drinking in the view of me on top of him. 

I rocked my hips, taking him deep into my core. His hands kneaded my ass as I bounced on his dick. 

I leaned down and kissed him, moaning at the feeling of his tongue in my mouth. He sucked my bottom lip and nibbled on my neck.

I moved my hips faster, increasing the pace of our coupling. His hand reached down and rubbed my clit, causing me to moan louder. 

" Yes!" I shouted as he rubbed my bud with his fingers. " You know how to make me  feel good."

His hand felt magical on my body, playing my clit. I rode him harder and harder, feeling my orgasm approaching rapidly. 

" Baby, try to hold back." I warned him, my body gave in and gushed out a torrent of liquid all over his stomach and cock.

I kept grinding on him through my climax, my muscles clenched around him.

He grunted in pain and pleasure. " Mommy!" he cried out. 

I held him still inside of me during my climax. 

I leaned in, kissing his lips eagerly. " Bravo, you didn't come yet." I praised him. " Now do all you desire to  me." 

His eyes darkened in desire. " Turn around." he demanded. I complied, crawling on my hands and knees in front of him.

" Spread your legs." he ordered. I did as told.

" What a beautiful ass you have." he complimented, slapping my cheeks lightly. 

I moaned at the sting. " Harder, baby. Spank it."

He obliged smacking me harder, reddening my skin. 

" Now, fuck it." I demanded. He didn't hesitate to plunge into me from behind, driving his cock deep inside of me.

His thrusts were brutal and relentless, he slapped my ass every time he bottomed out into me. My pussy clenched around him in pleasure.

" Ohhh!" I screamed.

His grip on my hip tightened as he fucked me wildly, his balls slapping against my thighs. His grunts were becoming more desperate and loud.

I leaned forward, bracing myself on the headboard. He bent over me and grabbed my tits, fondling and twisting them. His hot breath brushed against my ear.

" You like this?" he panted. " Being fucked by your son?"

"Yes." I breathed out. " More." I pleaded.

His fingers found my clit and rubbed it vigorously. I was close to reaching my climax again. 

" Cum with me." I ordered.

He didn't argue. " I'm going to cum!" he shouted and slammed into me one last time before he emptied himself inside of me.

I squeezed his cock as he released his seed, milking him for all his worth. He collapsed on top of me, spent. 

We remained there for a few minutes, his weight pressing down on me and his breath on my skin. His member still inside of me. 

" That was great baby." I praised him.

He rolled off me and we cuddled in bed. " Thanks." he replied.

" You deserve it." I caressed his cheek. " I love you." I admitted. 

"And I love you too, mum." he answered me. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, his eyelids drooping shut. I watched him fall asleep, lulled by the rhythm of my heartbeat. I wrapped my arms around him and fell asleep too. 

I woke up by the tip of his fingers tracing different paths on my body, his eyes looked at me with utter devotion.  " Hi." he greeted me.

We cuddled for a bit, he got more clingy and affectionate than ever. " Baby, you gotta think to find a girlfriend sooner or later." I stated.

He frowned and squeezed my flesh in his hand. " Do not say blasphemous things." he hissed. " I won't leave you alone NEVER."

I smirked. " That's my boy." 

Flesh pressed on flesh, as we explored each other’s bodies with carnal abandon. Together we steadily built to a crescendo of ecstasy. Our faces contorted with bliss,  our breaths quickened, and our bodies tensed. We were one being, united in our mutual pleasure.

We crested the wave of rapture together. I cried out, overcome with euphoria, as he filled me with his essence. His cries mingled with mine, creating a symphony of passion.

As our bodies calmed, he collapsed on me. We shared a tender kiss, savouring the remnants of our climax. We basked in the glow of our union, our souls entwined in love.  Our embrace was eternal, a testament to the depth of our bond. We knew that nothing could ever sever the ties that bound us together.

In the silence that followed, we shared a moment of pure understanding. Our connection transcended the boundaries of familial relations, and we were one in spirit and flesh. Our love was pure, untainted by the judgement of others. We had discovered our brand of heaven, right here on earth.

Together, we embarked on a journey of endless exploration, driven by the burning fire of our desires. Every day brought new experiences, fresh adventures that fueled our passion. Our love thrived in the secrecy of our sanctuary, free from the world's prying eyes.

In our hidden paradise, we indulged in a life of hedonistic pleasures, surrendering ourselves to the whims of our hearts. We revelled in the ecstasy of our love, secure in the knowledge that we were truly, madly, deeply in love.

[sepherinaspoppies]

ooh okay! this gives me something to do lol since im currently struggling to finish this damn paragraph...

this is for Vidalia Torres

🎶 - It's very hard for me to describe Vida's voice. Since I'm her author, I know how she sounds like. Though, I can say she does have a gentle voice, smooth but stammers a bit when anxious. It's not super high pitched, but maybe somewhat. She is no fan of raising her voice either.

👀 - Vida is short, perhaps around 4'10-5'1 range. She inherits her height from her abuela, Selena. Yet Selena is around 5'2. Not only does she inherit her height but skin tone as well. I envisioned Vidalia to have a dark tan complexion with straight-dark brown hair and silver strands of hair that she believes is vitiligo hair. But later in the story it is revealed where the silver comes from. She has a long neck, high cheekbones, only one dimple, and multiple moles on her face and body. Vida isnt super slender, but not plump either. She is full breasted and average sized hips. Vida has two vertical scars at her back from emergency surgery she had when she was born.

💐 - anemone!

👗- I see Vida having a love for medieval bohemian clothes. She is very much into wearing second hand clothes. She taught herself how to use a sewing machine and wears whatever she invented.

🌼 - Mexican artisan-boho aesthetic? I'm not too sure lol

💌 - Very giddy but suspicious cause who on earth would give her one 👀

🤦‍♀️ - when she said another man's name during sex LMAO

😊 - her work and family.

💢 - I think Vida would try her best to ignore whoever (Aemond) is annoying her. But if they continue, she'll start to curse them out lol.

🦸‍♀️ - I'm gonna go with Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz lol.

🐕 - Cats and horses!

🥘 - Chocoflan or Pizza

🍸- Strawberry tequila sunrise or a margarita

🌹 - Mmm, Vida loves anything earthy and sweet.

😱 - Being stuck in Westeros forever with Aemond.

🎁 - Vidalia loves gifting because she adds so much thought to every gift she gives, a personal touch. I think she'd tear up if someone gave her a gift lol.

🎳 - Definitely reading. Anything and everything.

👤 - Alone, but she doesn't mind being around family.

🤝 - I'd say she is. Alike her grandfather, she likes helping people. She sucks at communicating though, but it's something she's learning to be better at.

🍁 - Fall. It's spooky and dark. What else can I say lol?

Describe your OC or a character ask game

🎶 - How do they sound? Describe their voice

👀 - How do they look like? Give an overall description of them

💐 - Their favorite plant/flower

👗-Describe their style

🌼 - Assign them an aesthetic

💌 - How would they react to a love letter?

🤦‍♀️ - Something that continues to embarrass them to this day

😊 - Something that always makes them smile

💢 - How do they handle being annoyed?

🦸‍♀️ - What would they dress as for Halloween?

🐕 - Favourite animal?

🥘 - Favourite food?

🍸- Favourite drink?

🌹 - Do they have a signature scent? Perfume, shampoo or alike?

😱 - Their biggest fear

🎁 - Are they good at giving gifts? How about receiving them?

🎳 - Do they have hobbies? If yes, what are they?

👤 - Do they enjoy being alone, or do they thrive around people better?

🤝 - Are they good with people? Are they able to get along with people and communicate effectively with the people around them?

🍁 - Their favourite season and why?

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

HELLO can I ask for sol,hyugo and geo with a mc that is obsessed with it's own appearance, like having a strict diet, body and skin care religiously and wearing uncomfortable clothes like corsets just to be pretty.

Sorry if it's too long, love you writing 🍬💕

ENSNARED

This is the second oldest request I have in my inbox, hope this fulfilled your expectations, Anon! Thank you so much for choosing me to write this for you. <3

TW: There are themes involved with hating your body, as well as depriving it of food, sleep, etc. to feel attractive.

You all have traits that make you worthy. Remember that.

-- Signed solemnly by @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer AKA Sky Fort(resse)s and Burning Citadels

To commence this: Sol is a very insecure man. He may not appear it, nor act it, but deep in that depraved mind of his - looks are crucial to him. He has standards, of course. He dresses the way he wants, wears whatever makeup he wants, but he still ensures he looks ‘pretty’. Especially for you, he’s willing to ditch all his values and morals for you, just say the word. In short, he understands the urge to appear perfect or have glass skin or to be the most fashionable.

He’s always found you beautiful, to be fair everyone does (they’re not worth your time, he thinks), but you’re ethereal in his eyes. Always was, always will be.

You are by far one of the most fashionable people in all of your classes: your hair is pinned and styled, your clothes scream wealth and expense, your perfumes and cosmetics are a compliment to your features and by God your outfits fit your figure so well. You’re a model, essentially. People state you’ve been stopped on the streets by alleged modelling agencies.

You didn’t trust them enough to accept, however. As you should’ve, this city is dodgy and shady in more ways than Sol has jacked off to you - and that’s a massive achievement tbh.

On the surface, you appear unfazed by the envious looks of passer-bys, confident and composed in your own skin. However - like he knew suspected - as he got to know you, he recognised all the signs, all the subtle cues that indicated just how ‘perfect’ you had to look. How obsessed you were about your appearance, often losing sleep and forcing yourself to avoid food just to feel like you were becoming more ‘beautiful’.

You both should watch The Substance let’s be ffr, that movie perfectly explains what it’s like to be you. (sidenote: the movie’s fine but honestly it went way off the rails halfway through - just my opinion though)

He would often compliment you, and you would smile and thank him. Deep down, however (which he eventually realised and panicked about) was the intrusive, all-consuming thought: He likes this version of me, he could never like the real me, I’m too fake for someone as authentic as him. And then you go even deeper into that cycle.

In terms of romance, it’ll probably stem from a moment of rage or frustration, mostly on your part. You’re so tired or maintaining, editing, fixing yourself every fucking day that you lose it. Fully fucking lose it. You tear at your hair, pull at your skin, smear your makeup and just sob in the shower.

You don’t go to school that day, by then Sol and you (and Hyugo!) were friends for a while, and he was nervous when you weren’t around that day. They both texted you, with little response if any at all. So he brings your favourite snacks (he knows you don’t eat sugar so he brought dried fruits instead). 

What goes down is a mix of you being comforted, him relating to you, both of you opening up, maybe sleeping ontop of each other (look you’re tired okay). 

Obviously it’s a lot more violent and volatile than just that, but you’re in deep. You’ve been stuck in this cycle for years, it’ll take a lot to start pulling you out.

So you guys agree to pull each other out together.

Him (and Hyugo) both value their own appearances, but their aim is to convince you to dress well for YOURSELF, not anyone else.

When you and Sol are dating, you’re still very vain and worried about how you look, but the urge isn’t as potent, more as a source of comfort than anything else - or so you say. Sol definitely makes you eat and sleep more though, and to an extent (hint: a huge one), you feel a lot lighter. A lot saner and a touch happier.

You’re both pulling each other out together, and Sol often displays his love for you (and your body) through significantly more than just validation…

Mans definitely hugs and holds you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear about how worthy of love and affection you truly are.

Maybe one day you’ll grow to tell such kind things to yourself.

“You look gorgeous, pumpkin. Heh, who am I kidding, you always do.”

“Nothing makes me happier than seeing you at ease and content, darling.”

“I love all of you, always have, always will.”

Hyugo is a raging fan of hot and cool women (shh dw he thinks hot men are epic too); he absolutely loves them, he thinks they’re awesome. He’s someone who can definitely appreciate a person who caters to themselves and generally hold themselves in high regard; and from the looks of it…you seem to be both of those things. After all, you’re considered a beauty by most if not all of the school (and some faculty members but that’s for him to use as blackmail in the future).

He 110% does consider you appealing at first glance, you’re put together, composed, sure of yourself. In short: confident. He likes that trait, the ability to see yourself highly and to deflect any hits that are tossed your way.

He originally doesn’t see it as much more than that, a small acknowledgement of ‘that person’s cool’…until that day on the rooftop.

Then it turns into something a touch more…intimate? I mean, violence is an intimate thing, in certain contexts. It’s just not a type people would want to find themselves in…heh, well, normal people at least.

After him and Sol acquaint themselves with you well enough, he begins to perceive cracks in this facade of yours - Hyugo has a very highly-tuned sixth sense (canon idfc this is something he has to have with the shit he gets up to) - and gets curious.

You seem like a nice person, a good person even, but there’s something *off*. He tries to think about it, tries to put his finger on what he suspects you conceal from the world. So, like the magnificent detective he is, he decides he’s going to investigate and through his many contacts he discovers you’re extremely vain and self-regulatory about your physical appearance.

He doesn’t think that’s the cause at first, until he gets to know you better and it hits him just how willing you are to damage yourself just to fit the standards of the year, if not month. He notices how trendy you are, how you always seem to have the newest bags, clothes, makeup, shoes, etc. 

He does some digging, in his spare time (only due to intrigue, totally out of curiosity and nothing else) and finds that you’re in a very deep debt. Mainly from your obscene amounts of fashion-esqe purchases. That’s when he fully realised how bad this compulsion of yours is.

During your friendship, he starts gingerly bringing up things about trends, usually starting from his end - video games - and you end up mentioning fashion and clothes.

Then he picks up on how gaunt you look, even under the contouring and makeup, his bony your hands are, how frail you seem to be.

He’s contemplating kidnapping you at this point, and eventually he bites the bullet and just bluntly asks you why you’re starving yourself. You become highly defensive, immediately shutting down the conversation.

Soon enough he becomes more forward with his prior gestures of offering food, being a touch insistent you eat. You look like you’ll collapse at any second, and he has to fully resist his urge to force-feed you - mostly to remain on good terms with you - until you actually collapse.

Most people are shocked, but the more perceptive ones aren’t remotely surprised how bad it got. You had a conviction that beauty was everything, and you were stubborn as they come.

It’s when you’re finally allowed out of the hospital that the two of you get into an actual argument. He’s upset that you’re willing to die in pursuit of something entirely subjective and you’re angry he thinks he has the right to boss you around.

Soon enough it explodes, and he blurts out his feelings, freaks out, and storms off; deciding to end it there before he reveals anything else.

You, on the other hand, are shooketh.

Con? Fuzzled.

Bam? Boozled.

Flabber? Gasted.

Eventually, you start to see things from his perspective, from other peoples’ perspectives and you feel depressed all over again. You fucked up. You failed to maintain perfection. It’s the imperfections that made this happen.

Obviously you know it’s not true, logically there’s no way it is. But you’ve not cared about logistics for a long fucking time.

You find him soon enough and you both talk, actually talk. Something something feelings and hurt and comfort something something let’s date.

Hyugo has plenty of his own secrets, as do you, but despite it all? You both know the other would never leave, because…you just feel it. Some small hopeful part of you feels safe with this partner…and soon so do both of you.

He’s a very supportive partner, he even helps you get out of debt ffs, he’s willing to do a lot to help you. Often compliments or expresses affection whenever he sees you, especially if you’ve eaten or he knows you’ve been taking care of yourself. Encourages you to list good traits of yourself, or to do something that involves not thinking, like crocheting. Or shooting. Or cooking. Stuff that grounds you. Whether you take any of those on is up to you, but he’s a caring person, and despite the shit he’s done he does want you to be and feel better. Sometime later on, you feel a sliver of that light return to the pit of hollow self-loathing and the world feels a touch less grey.

“Hey! How’re you feeling? Awesome, hey uh, wanna go out today? Just us two, no pressure. :)”

“As a certified sexy person I wish to remind you that you look very sexy this fine day.” 😔🫡😈 (this is said very solemnly mind you)

“You smell nice...” *subtly inhales*

To summarise this entire extract, Geo has his own insecurities - but they’re significantly more repressed than any other member of the main cast (Hyugo being a close second imo). He can empathise with the desire to feel content with ones’ own appearance, not that he’d ever state it.

He’s someone who does value fashion - cosmetics in particular, he definitely wears eyeliner and lipstick- and the art of taking care of yourself and your wellbeing, but he never felt the urge to destroy himself in the pursuit of beauty like you do. 

He considers Crowe one of his ‘close’ friends and considering how highly Crowe views you, he’s got some tidbits of info on you, like how you’re incredibly self conscious. He found that odd, because from whatever times he may or may not’ve seen you around, you emanated self-assuredness - if not cockiness - alongside your particularly fancy way of dress.

He can admit, he was a touch impressed with how dedicated you were to maintain yourself, until he began noticing small things in your stature and general nature. He doesn’t know why he observed such minute details, but whenever you hung out with the group, you seemed a touch out of it. A bit depressed, especially when someone complimented you - like Brittney or Jess.

He was somewhat certain you were fishing for compliments, until he realised that he doesn’t trust compliments either, so he somewhat erases that thought of you.

He does end up liking you after a long time, for your personality - we all hope (it is dw) - but he does notice how you alter your outfit style and makeup to something more conventionally appealing in Japan (idk man someone out there’s definitely done this to impress a crush), or just noticed how if you realise he likes something, especially in terms of physicality (it’s not for attraction it’s for the ✨aesthetic✨) you end up adopting said traits.

He eventually does recognise (probably because someone pointed it out, like Deryl - bless his heart he had no bad intentions) that you are doing this to impress him.

He’s not impressed, if anything, he feels a tad peeved. To him, actions like that indicate desperation, and he does not want to be surrounded by desperate people (he’s got too many simps and he doesn’t need anymore)…but you’re not a shallow person, he feels that.

Unfortunately he has fuck all idea on how to actually bring this up, so he doesn’t.

In fact the only way you stop is when he makes a snarky remark about it (he didn’t mean to come off as an asshole he swears) and you just look…melancholic.

In your eyes, you’ve learnt that beauty and appearance is what gets you people, and it’s worked so well before…so why isn’t it working now. You don’t want to seduce or trick anyone, but you want to be seen as pretty. Beautiful, even.

Geo’s indirect rejection of this made that void in your heart - that one that convinced you long ago how shallow and unworthy you genuinely are - swell and pulse. It stung.

That, along with the magnitude of invalidating, cruel thoughts sent you into a spiral. You let yourself go, and you let yourself drown.

And everyone noticed, when you marched into school after a couple days with makeup messily caked onto your face, your hair done in a way that tore at your scalp and hair strands and your outfit so tight that you had to move like a machine just to get around. The desire grew stronger, grew in intensity and you were losing it.

Geo does not understand until Brittney realises it that he may or may not have been a catalyst for this. He has no clue how to deal with this, like he’s so stumped that he has an argument with ChatGPT.

Soon enough, he decides to just try and interact with you and pray this doesn’t end up in flames.

Something something awkward confession something something angst and hurt comfort something something eventually romance starts.

Anyway in terms of romantic relations, he’s unsupportive of these inhumane rituals you’ve been doing on yourself, so he makes you cease.

He doesn’t want to be nasty about it he just thinks it’s stupid and doesn’t want you to suffer anymore. He does care for you.

Will drop random words of validation every month or so, and you cling onto those words, because they’re genuine. They’re authentic, and you grow to feel more comfortable in receiving them, and, most importantly: giving them to yourself and accepting them. Bit by bit.

“You look nice. This suits you.”

“You’ve eaten, I hope?”

“You look healthier. Keep it that way..”

Banger women and banger tits: two things that Brittney Claire has in spades and also highly appreciates (mantits also count dwdw). She’s someone who values appearance as well, often putting in insane amounts of time for her hair snd skincare alone (Geode quivered in fear when he heard the number). She’s also someone who’s experienced her fair share of dark times and loneliness, so she definitely understands what it feels like to need to feel attractive, to feel wanted and needed, even if it’s ingenuine. 

She’s someone who - like you - displays confidence and self-assurance, especially in the face of people she holds disdain and even resentment towards. Someone who understands the empty feeling that comes with years of self-loathing and the undying belief that you’ll never be worth anything if you’re not beautiful. What worth does someone - especially a woman - have if she’s not beautiful?

Looking back, from the perspective of someone with a much healthier support system and overall mindset, she knows she has worth, knows she’s awesome and has good qualities…but some days those feelings return. So she gets it. 

Frankly, the first time she meets - hell, even sees - you, she instantly knows. How could she not, she used to be similar to you. Trendiest outfits, being the circle of attention, knowing all the news and rumours and pop culture references (she still knows them, just refuses to change herself for them). She believes she only genuinely stopped trying to fit in when she discovered Gyaru fashion, almost slipped back into it when she got humiliated that one time, and crawled back out when she had Jess and Crowe (and to a minor extent, Geo) for support.

She knows you don’t have genuine friends, or ones that possess depth; so she decides to try and get to know you through shared classes.

You originally somewhat ignore her (totally not due to your envy of her being able to be herself no never), which tempts her to give up, but she’s a spiteful lady sometimes. Spite is a very good motivator.

Eventually, you both end up talking and the more comfy you become, the more she realises how similar you both were and still are. She decides to introduce you to her friend group, to which you reluctantly agree (due to the rumours) and you’re pretty well-received. 

Brittney does eventually start opening up to you, and you do as well - bonding over your shared experienced and values - her offering an olive branch if you want support, to which you agree…but never take up.

Hell, soon enough you grow distant again, and oddly enough she’s peeved. She doesn’t get why, well…she does, but you seem to mostly avoid her specifically. Did she appear fake to you? Did you think she wanted to harm you?

Maybe, honestly. She had - still has - that same mindset to an extent. That jaded outlook on reading peoples’ angles and intentions.

When she eventually confronts you, you both escalate it to a fight, mostly because she’s genuinely trying to help - despite having the communication skills of a tortoise in water - while you’re being hyperdefensive over yourself and your habits of extremist beauty obsession.

You confess you’re jealous of her. Highly jealous, the fact she has genuine friends, that she can fit in, be herself, etc. You apologise for being such a bitch, but it hurts you deeply.

She eventually relents and calms down, before you both start a proper friendship. You two and Jess are a banger trio, often going shopping together, going to cafes or simply talking. A group of support and trust, one that’s rare in a place like Titan City.

It’s then you two begin to develop feelings, and eventually things happen and you two get together.

She’s gonna be protective of you, you both defend the other from rumours and shitty people and serve as pillars for the other when they’re feeling low. You guys empathise with one another in ways many others simply cannot - and that’s a bond neither of you are willing to squander.

You guys definitely do each others’ hair and makeup and nails btw.

“You look…pretty! Pretty…uh…yeah. Very pretty.”

“Ugh, times are hard for hot people like us, right? Jessie Sitrus agree with me this instant!!” 🗣🗣

“I get it, but hey! It gets better, trust me. I’d know. And we’ve got each other, right?”

[soobnny]

the alchemy — athlete!chan x reader ; established relationship (0.9k words)

where’s the trophy, he just comes running over to me

olympic inspired fic

Chan told stories.

His hands, rough with hard work, held strength and sacrifices. Years of training manifested in his calloused palms, in the occasional cuts and bruises.

They were proof of his passion, his dreams, his ambitions.

It’s almost funny how that entire world he had crafted with tears and sweat and sacrifices all boils down to a single moment, to right now, under the watchful eyes of thousands. Maybe even millions.

On the other side stood a realm, a place he can reap the efforts he’d planted step-by-step. He can faintly see victory from where he’s standing.

The crowd is a blur of color and noise. There are hands with flags waving, faces of anticipation, voices that brewed with support. Chan can feel the weight of the entire stadium pressing against his chest.

There is drumming, and beating, and shouting, and cheers.

And then static.

He breathes in, the space falling away in consequence. There is only the wall of focus he’s just built for himself—only the track, the runway, the pole, the leap.

The bar was set higher than it had been on his first attempt. A podium finish was in his reach with the pole in his hands and the runway in front of him if he would just make this jump.

A sharp breath.

The faintest rustle of the uniform he’s wearing.

And then the low hum of static.

There is nothing but the vault.

His pulse is thudding in his ears, heartbeat echoing a steady beat of anticipation. The sound of his shoes hitting the ground seemed louder than it was earlier.

There was only one thing to do now.

Chan’s gaze falls straight to the landing zone. He zeroes in on the marks, the mat awaiting his landing, the exact moment the pole would bend, how his body should fly above the vault.

That entire world, the callouses in his hands, the roughness of hard work, the countless hours of repetition were all about to be reduced to that one line on the horizon.

His grip tightens on the pole, familiar yet too rigid for comfort. And then he’s at the starting line.

At a last effort of any fragment of comfort, he searches for you where you stand. You were there, always have been, with eyes holding softness, and hope, and comfort. Something no one else could ever replicate.

A flicker of a smile curves at his lips, and then, as if his body has always known the exact timing, his legs start to move. One step, two steps. One after the other. His speed picks up, his hands instinctively tighten around the pole as it digs into the ground beneath him, and then he flies.

Chan flies, and the crowd falls silent in anticipation.

His entire world spins in such a short amount of time, even stills as his body—taught with the thrill of possibility—twists. There is muscle memory in the way he soars in the air, the same air heavy with the taste of victory that wasn’t his yet.

Gravity takes over.

Everything else falls behind him. Flashbacks of late night practices, and crying, and thinking he’s not good enough. Moments when he’d almost given up. Days when he’d felt like his efforts were going nowhere.

You’d always been there to help him back up.

You. You. You.

Thud.

His body hits the mats, and the sound echoes for half a second.

Just like that, it was done. He had done it.

His breath comes back in quick bursts, heart hammering in his chest.

When the mat propels his body back up, he lands on his feet. And before he can really process the victory he’d been working upon, he’s already turning. Sprinting.

The only direction to go now was the stands, the only direction left was to you.

You. You. You.

His legs carried him faster, and faster, and the world moved in a similar slow motion as he was when he was flying. The cheering, the flashing lights of cameras, the explosiveness of the stadium, everything was abandoned in the background.

Chan barrels into you, arms pulling you into the tightest embrace he could muster. For a moment, nothing else mattered—the gold medal, the record, nothing. Except for the fact that he had made it, and you were there with him to see it happen.

“Channie” is the only word you can muster, voice thick as you loop your arms around his neck.

Apparently, it’s also the only word he needs to pull himself back, hands resting on your shoulders as if needing to anchor himself to the moment. His eyes look into yours for a split second.

His eyes told stories too. It was always his most honest and obvious tell. And right now, they were looking at you with so much love.

Yours, with pride.

“Baby—“

Without warning, his lips find yours.

You feel everything in one kiss. The adrenaline, the years of work, his entire world. Chan leans into you, breathing you in, feeling the surge of everything he had accomplished into someone that felt like home.

Fuck, you make him happier than any Olympic gold medal ever could.

Somewhere in the distance, the announcer’s voice rings out his name as champion, but all he can ever see and hear right now is you. It was done. He’d made the vault, now all he needed to do was hold onto you.

There’s plenty of time for the rest later, plenty of time for celebrations, for the podium, for the journalists.

Right now, it was only ever you and the bright smile on your face, and the same smile he’s mirroring on his own.

And right now, in this moment, Chan doesn’t have to jump to know what it feels like to fly.

[saphiccarma]

Hi! If you are taking requests, what about Agatha Harkness x wife reader? Where Agatha returns to the home exhausted after a day pretending to be Agnes. So reader prepares her a relaxing bath and things escalate ✨SMUT✨

- Just Relax

Relationships - Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary - Agatha's exhausted from spending all day pretending to be Agnes and you know a couple ways to help her relax

Warnings: sub Agatha (ish? but not really cuz there's no sub/dom dynamics), fingering, nipple play, neck kissing, bath sex

A/N: y'all i'm going through a massive writers block right now T-T. it came out of nowhere and this was my attempt to get out of it so I apologise if it's bad

You sit on the couch, a book between your hands with old, worn pages, as you read. It was a book that you technically shouldn't have since it didn't exist in the current time period, at least according to Maximoff's weird sitcom, but after some persuading Agatha let you keep it. It was the least she could do after dragging you into this crazy hex that you wanted nothing to do with. But when Agatha had brought the idea up with that pretty smile of hers and a wicked gleam in her eyes, you had to agree.

You played the perfect image of a little housewife, remaining at home and keeping the house tidy while Agatha 'worked'. She adored the short skirts you would wear and sometimes the tight shirts, enjoying the way your front would be covered in water sometimes after doing dishes or washing something outside. Agatha loved to tease you, her eyes flickering up and down your body, tracing over the bare skin that was revealed by your skirt, and over your curves.

The front door clicked open, and your head glanced up. You scrambled off the couch, setting your book down before gliding across the floors in your socks that were not from this time, and skidding to a stop in front of Agatha. She looked exhausted, and to anyone else they would think she was pissed. Based on the firm set of her lips, the tightness in her shoulders, her brows furrowed together, and her eyes hooded with frustration. But she was really just tired.

Her eyes land on you and they brighten a little bit as you smile, wrapping your arms around her neck. Tenderly, you press a kiss to her lips, pouring love and care into the touch. Agatha sighed into your lips, her shoulders loosening beneath your touch and her arms curling around your waist gently.

You played with the stray hairs that dangled at the back of her neck, "Hi gorgeous," you whisper, foreheads resting together, "You look tired."

"No shit," Agatha scoffs, her hands squeezing your hips lightly. Her breath is warm as it fans against your face, tickling your skin, and her perfume wraps around you like a warm embrace, pulling you in. Despite her blunt words, she looked at you in pure adoration, a look that wasn't often associated with the witch-killer.

"What if I go prep a bath?" you mumble, pecking her lips, "Let you rest a little, yeah? And maybe if you're up for it a little fun?"

Her eyes sparkle at your words, "Sure sweetheart," she slaps your ass, "Go get that bath ready, I'm gonna get something to eat."

You grin up at her, squeaking at the sudden movement before scurrying up the stairs. Her footsteps echo heavily behind you as she heads to the kitchen. The bathroom sits in the corner of your bedroom with the tub fitting snugly inside. Turning the nobs, you get the water running, making sure it's nice and warm, you undress, knowing more ways than one to help Agatha relax. It's minutes later that Agatha walks in just as the bathtub is right about full and she raises a brow at you.

"I thought I was the one taking a bath?" she questioned, but a smirk played on her lips, "Not that I don't mind.

"Though I could help," you shrug, turning the water off before moving towards Agatha. You grab the hem of her shirt and gently tug it over her head, before slowly unclasping her bra, admiring the sight before you. Tugging her pants and panties down next, you’re practically drooling, and based on Agatha's small chuckle she can tell. Guiding her towards the bath, you lowered her in before sitting behind her.

Her back presses up against your breasts and your legs bracket her in. You run your hands down her sides teasingly, trailing along her curves and to her thighs, enjoying the way her breath hitches. Before she can reprimand you for it, you grab a cup and scoop up some water, pouring it over her head. Agatha sighs as the water trails over her, and you begin to lather shampoo into her scalp, nails lightly scratching. She hums in content, eyes fluttering shut as you begin to slowly clean her up.

You rinse her hair before applying conditioner. Your hands run over her body again as you clean her with a loofa, one hand doing that while the other teases her thighs, drawing the slightest hitch in her breath whenever you got close to her core, before trailing back down. Her hair was silky smooth as you rinsed out the conditioner, gently dumping water on her head a few times. Dipping your head down once you've finished, you press your lips to her neck.

Agatha sighed in content, her head falling to land on your shoulder, while you fluttered your lips over her skin. Your hands traced small patterns onto the inside of her thighs, silently teasing her without it being obvious. Slowly, your fingers swipe shallowly through her folds, just barely when you bite down on her neck. She lets out a shaky breath and her hands clamp down on your legs.

"Y/N," she warns lowly, your name falling off her lips, but you aren't deterred. You can feel the way she relaxes into with every passing second, all her muscles untensing and her brain unwinding from a day of pretending to be someone she's not. Your fingertips pressed against her clit, softly at first, but when she gave no reaction, you pushed a bit harder. You could see her bite her lower lip and you licked against her neck lightly.

"Let me help you." your voice is a low murmur against her neck, dark and filled with lust as your other hand comes up to her breast. Delicately, you swiped your thumb over her nipple, the peak already stiff in the water, "Relax."

If she wasn't in the water, you know she would be absolutely drenched from the way your fingers twisted her clit between their pads. You toyed with her breasts and clit for a moment, letting her get worked up. When she let out a low growl, you chuckled softly against her neck, pausing in your open-mouthed kiss along her neck, and poke at her entrance. Slowly, you plunged your digits in, her spongy walls clenching around you.

Lips pressing all over the bare skin of her neck, you nibbled on the soft spot just below her ear as you languidly pumped in and out. The bath water was cooling around you, but you hardly cared, intent on helping your wife relax from an exhausting day of pretending. "I love you," you whisper against her neck, biting down softly as your fingers curl against that special spot in her cunt. She lets out the smallest of whines, which is a huge victory for you, and it spurs you on.

Picking up the pace your fingers begin to hammer into her, thumb hitting her clit harshly. Her nipple was twisted between your fingertips as you continued your restless assault on her neck. Her body twitched beneath you, ripples flowing through the water with every little movement. Your fingers twisted and scissored inside of her, lips nibbling and nipple being twisted between your fingers. Agatha began to come undone with every passing second, her sounds becoming louder and breathier.

"Y/N," your name was a breathless plea on her lips, a rare moment of vulnerability for her. Her hands grasped at your wrists, pushing your hand further into her core as she started to squirm. You began to pound into her harshly, obeying her silent command to give her more. Her thighs started quivering and her breathing became more ragged, eyes squeezing shut. "Please," she whined quietly, hardly audible.

You smirked into her neck, pressing just right against her clit and splitting your fingers enough that had her coming apart, moaning your name. Her body shuddered against you as your lips tickled her neck lightly and thumb swirled over her sensitive numb slowly.

As she came down from her high you pulled out, placing a tender kiss to her jaw, "More relaxed now?"

"Yes," she sighed, turning to pull you into a harsh kiss. Her tongue explored the warm cavern of your mouth passionately, lips melding to yours, "So much more relaxed."

[killerelysia]

Bro Luna's one of my fav OCs I wanted to write something for her. I legit love the OC please, Plus their art is chef's kiss! Do I need to say more?

Before the Disaster... (The kid at the back) Crowe x OC! (Not Sol, Sorry)

(The OC belongs to @kazueisaloser)

Happy belated birthday to Luna (Please give her a happy ending, Oh creator)

It was always another day.

Luna sat at her usual spot her eyes fixed on the horizon. The sunset painted the sky in breathtaking strokes of gold and crimson, but she felt none of its warmth. To her, it was just another sunset, another reminder that beauty existed in the world—just not in her.

Her fingers absentmindedly tugged at the hem of her oversized sweater, one that hung loose enough to hide everything she hated about herself. She didn’t even know why she wore it anymore; nothing ever seemed to help. Her reflection in the glass caught her eye, and her stomach twisted. The faint outline of her face felt like an accusation, like it was mocking her.

Her heart sank as a familiar wave of self-loathing began to creep in.

"Why can’t I just… look normal?" she thought bitterly, her nails digging into her palm. Her reflection stayed silent, staring back with empty, striking blue eyes that she could never bring herself to like. People often told her how beautiful they were, how beautiful she was, but the words fell flat. They didn’t see what she saw. They didn’t have to live in her skin.

The compliments always felt like lies, cruel little reminders of a world that refused to understand. Even when her friends laughed and joked with her, even when strangers turned their heads to admire her, Luna could only see flaws—glaring imperfections she couldn’t escape.

The sun dipped lower, and shadows began to spill into the room.

She let out a shaky sigh, resting her forehead against her knees. The room felt so cold, so unbearably quiet, save for the muted hum of her thoughts echoing louder than she could handle. She wanted to scream, to shatter the silence and tear apart the version of herself she couldn’t escape.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

Instead, Luna stayed there, She clenched her fists tighter, tears pricking at the edges of her eyes. She hated this—hated herself. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t stop comparing herself to everyone else, couldn’t stop wishing she could tear herself apart and rebuild someone better. Someone worthy.

"Why can’t I be enough?"

The thought hit her like a punch to the chest, stealing what little air she had left. Her breathing hitched, and before she knew it, silent tears had begun to fall. They streaked down her cheeks, hot and unrelenting, like they’d been waiting all day for this moment to spill out.

And yet, even in her lowest moments, she bit her lip and swallowed her cries,

Determined to wear her soft smile again tomorrow.

After all, it was what everyone expected.

Crowe stood a short distance away, staring down at the bouquet of roses in his hands. The soft rustle of the petals as the evening breeze passed through them reminded him of her—delicate, beautiful, and entirely unaware of her own brilliance. The note, folded neatly between his fingers, felt heavier than it should have, its simple words carrying the weight of his unspoken feelings.

He sighed, glancing upward to the sky, where the faintest stars were beginning to dot the deepening blue. He had spent hours staring at them the night before, hoping for some kind of clarity. And then it hit him: the brightest, prettiest star wasn’t in the sky.

It had always been her.

Luna.

Crowe adjusted the collar of his shirt, brushing back a few loose strands of his dark hair. He wasn’t one for nerves, but this—this was different. For all his confidence, his charisma, he now felt like a lost boy, desperately hoping the roses would somehow speak the words his heart couldn’t seem to say.

He took a step forward, his polished shoes crunching softly against the gravel pathway outside the campus. He knew where she’d be—she always went there when the day felt too heavy, sitting quietly in her little corner to watch the sun sink beneath the horizon.

And there she was, just as he’d imagined.

Luna sat in her usual spot, her silhouette bathed in the golden glow of the fading sunlight. Her chin rested on her knees, and though her expression was soft, there was something undeniably sad about her. Crowe’s chest tightened at the sight, but it only strengthened his resolve.

He couldn’t keep pretending. Not anymore.

Drawing a steadying breath, he stepped onto the path that led to her. With each stride, his heartbeat thundered louder in his ears, drowning out everything but the thought of her—her shy smile, her quiet laugh, the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about the things she loved.

The distance closed between them, Crowe’s grip on the roses tightened. The note crinkled slightly under his fingers, but he didn’t care.

This time, he wouldn’t hold back.

This time, he would tell her.

Crowe walked toward her.

Crowe crept quietly behind Luna, his steps soft against the gravel path. His heart raced, not from the fear of startling her, but from the weight of the moment he had planned. As he reached her, he hesitated for just a second, his free hand clutching the hidden roses and the note tightly behind his back.

With a mischievous grin, he leaned in closer. “Boo,” he whispered softly near her ear.

Luna yelped, her body jerking slightly in surprise before she turned to see him. Her startled expression quickly melted into a sweet, familiar smile, one that tugged at something deep inside Crowe’s chest.

“Crowe,” she said warmly, her voice soft as her hand instinctively went to her chest, calming her racing heart.

Crowe chuckled, his grin widening. “Caught you off guard, huh?”

She playfully rolled her eyes but said nothing more, her gaze flickering back to the horizon where the last rays of sunlight were spilling over the earth. Crowe, still holding the bouquet and note behind him, moved to sit beside her.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The world seemed to shrink around them, the golden glow of the sunset cocooning them in a peaceful silence. Crowe finally broke it, his voice quieter than usual.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the horizon, though he glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

Luna nodded, her lips curling into a soft smile as she stared at the brilliant hues painting the sky. She didn’t need words to answer. Moments like these, surrounded by beauty and quiet, always felt sacred to her.

But this wasn’t just a moment for the sunset—it was Crowe. She didn’t have to put on a mask or pretend with him. Around Crowe, she could simply be. Still, the sunset held her tongue, its beauty too overwhelming for speech.

Crowe’s gaze lingered on her, watching as the light danced across her delicate features. His fingers tightened slightly around the roses behind his back as he spoke again, his tone softer this time.

“The sunset…” he began, his voice trailing off for a moment as he chose his words. “It’s kind of like you.”

Luna blinked, tearing her gaze from the horizon to glance at him, her cheeks flushing slightly. “What?” she asked, tilting her head in confusion.

Crowe smiled at her, the corners of his mouth tugging upward in a way that made her heart skip. “It’s breathtaking,” he said simply.

Her blush deepened, and she quickly turned her face back toward the sunset to hide it. The compliment felt like too much, too overwhelming, and she couldn’t bring herself to accept it. Her lips curved into a faint, almost sheepish smile. “No,” she said softly, shaking her head. “The sunset’s way prettier than me.”

Crowe’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t press. Instead, he shifted his focus back to the horizon, silently marveling at the girl sitting beside him who couldn’t see the radiance he saw so clearly. The roses and the note remained hidden for now.

Crowe’s expression softened, his voice gentle as he spoke. “I mean it, Luna,” he said firmly. “Don’t say that about yourself.”

Luna blinked, caught off guard by the seriousness in his tone. “What do you mean?” she asked hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Without a second thought, Crowe reached out and caught her hand in his, his touch warm and steady. Her eyes widened as she looked down at their joined hands, feeling the strength and sincerity in his grip.

“If you ever feel like doubting yourself again,” he said, his tone unwavering, “it’s okay. I don’t care if you believe me right now or not, but I’ll keep saying it anyway. Because I’ll always tell you the truth, Luna. Always.”

Before she could respond, Crowe brought the bouquet out from behind his back and held it out to her, the vibrant roses glowing faintly in the last light of the sunset. Nestled among the petals was the folded note.

Luna’s lips parted in surprise, her gaze shifting from the bouquet to him. “Crowe… what is this?” she asked, her voice tinged with both curiosity and disbelief.

Crowe’s smile was faint but genuine, his dark eyes holding hers with an intensity that made her heart skip. “It’s what I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time,” he said quietly. “I’m done hiding it.”

The realization hit her all at once, like a tidal wave. Her eyes flicked back to the bouquet, her mind racing as she pieced everything together. He was confessing. Crowe was confessing.

Her cheeks burned bright red, and she instinctively brought both hands up to cover her face, hoping to hide the blush spreading across her skin. Crowe chuckled softly, his voice rich with affection as he reached out and gently moved her hands away. His fingertips brushed against her cheeks, holding her face lightly, as if she might disappear.

“You don’t need to feel insecure around me, Luna,” he said, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity. “You don’t need to hide anything.”

His words left her breathless, but what truly undid her was the way he was looking at her—as if she was the most precious thing in the world. Her striking blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and her cheeks glowed a soft pink. In that moment, she looked so vulnerable, so pure, that Crowe found himself unable to look away.

“Crowe…” she whispered, her voice trembling as her emotions welled up inside her.

He smiled gently, brushing a tear from the corner of her eye with his thumb. “I mean it, Luna,” he said softly. “You’re beautiful. Inside and out. And I’ll spend as long as it takes to show you that, if you’ll let me.”

Luna held the bouquet close to her chest, the soft fragrance of roses filling the air around her. Her cheeks were still flushed, and her lips curved into an uncontrollable smile as her heart raced with the realization of what had just happened. Crowe—her best friend, the one she had quietly admired for so long—had confessed to her.

She could hardly believe it. Someone like Crowe—kind, charming, and effortlessly cool—had feelings for her. The thought alone made her almost squeal, but she held it back, instead squeezing the bouquet in her arms like it was the most precious thing in the world.

Crowe’s phone buzzed, pulling him out of the moment. He frowned slightly as he checked the screen and let out a small sigh. “Duty calls,” he muttered, his tone tinged with reluctance.

He stood, brushing off his pants, and glanced down at her, his gaze softening when he saw how she clung to the flowers. “I hate to cut this short, Luna, but I’ve gotta go,” he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

Luna looked up at him, her smile still lingering. “It’s okay,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with a mix of shyness and contentment.

Crowe hesitated for a moment, then leaned down slightly, his expression earnest. “Tomorrow,” he said, his voice steady. “Let’s talk more about… this. About us.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words, and she nodded, smiling softly. “Okay,” she whispered.

He returned the smile before stepping away, raising a hand in a casual wave. “Goodnight, Luna.”

“Goodnight, Crowe,” she called after him, watching as he disappeared down the path.

Once he was out of sight, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Hugging the bouquet even tighter, she allowed herself a small, delighted squeal, her cheeks burning as she thought about his confession.

Crowe… he really likes me, she thought, her mind racing as she imagined what the future might hold. The idea of them together felt almost too good to be true, yet she couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her face.

But as she sat there, lost in her thoughts, a strange sensation began to creep over her. Her smile faltered, and she instinctively glanced around, her grip tightening on the bouquet.

The feeling was subtle at first, like the faint prickling of goosebumps on her skin. It was as if someone was watching her—someone just out of sight. The once-comforting quiet of the evening suddenly felt heavy, and the shadows around her seemed darker than before.

She swallowed hard, her heart pounding for an entirely different reason now. Slowly, she stood, clutching the flowers protectively as she cast another wary glance around the empty campus grounds.

The sunset’s glow had faded into twilight, and the world around her was eerily still. The sensation didn’t fade, though. If anything, it grew stronger, the weight of unseen eyes pressing down on her with every passing moment.

“Hello?” she called out softly, her voice trembling as it broke the silence.

Luna’s gaze fell back to the roses in her arms, their deep crimson petals glistening faintly in the dim light. They were so beautiful—so alive in their vibrancy. Yet, as she stared at them, an unease began to crawl up her spine.

The red… it was striking, mesmerizing. Almost too much like… blood.

She leaned closer, the world around her fading into an oppressive stillness. The edges of her vision blurred as she focused on the roses, their once-delicate beauty now tinged with something ominous.

Then, the scene shifted.

The roses were gone, replaced by something far heavier in her arms. Her breath hitched, and a guttural sob escaped her lips as she looked down. Crowe’s almost-severed head rested in her hands, his lifeless eyes staring up at her. The dirt smeared on his face mixed with the vivid streaks of blood running from his neck, pooling onto the ground beneath her.

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head in denial, her voice breaking. “This… this isn’t real. You’re not—”

Her hands trembled as she clutched his head tighter, her nails digging into her palms. The dirt beneath her knees felt cold and damp, grounding her in a horrifying reality she couldn’t escape.

“Crowe…” she whimpered, her tears falling freely now, splattering against his lifeless face. She pulled him closer, her sobs wracking her body as she cradled him like something fragile, something that could still be saved.

“This isn’t real,” she repeated desperately, her voice raw with grief. “You’re not dead. You’re not—”

Her words choked off as she noticed the blood staining her hands, the same shade of red as the roses he had given her yesterday. The memory of his gentle smile, his heartfelt confession, flashed through her mind, and she let out a cry of anguish.

“Who did this to you?!” she screamed, her voice echoing into the emptiness around her.

The once-comforting warmth of his presence was gone, replaced by the cold, cruel weight of his severed head in her arms. The world around her blurred and twisted, the line between reality and nightmare dissolving as her sobs filled the air.

She buried her face into his bloodied hair, holding him as tightly as she could, as if sheer force of will could bring him back. The scent of roses lingered faintly, mingling with the metallic tang of blood, a cruel reminder of what she had lost.

Luna cried harder, the sound of her heartbreak shattering the suffocating silence.

Luna screamed, her voice piercing the cold, unfeeling night. It was raw and broken, filled with anguish so deep it seemed to tear through her soul. She shook her head violently, as if denying the reality in front of her could somehow change it.

“This couldn’t have happened! This can’t be real!” she sobbed, clutching Crowe’s lifeless head to her chest.

Her tears poured freely now, blurring her vision as she rocked back and forth on the dirt. The blood smeared across her hands and clothes, its sticky warmth chilling her to the core.

“No… no, no, no…” she choked, her voice trembling with desperation. “Crowe, please, wake up! You’re okay! You’re not gone!”

But the lifeless weight in her arms offered no response. The vivid memory of his kind smile, his steady hands holding hers, and his soft words from just yesterday flashed through her mind like a cruel trick.

“Who did this to you?!” she screamed again, her voice hoarse and cracking under the strain. Her chest heaved with the force of her sobs, each breath feeling like a knife in her lungs.

Her fingers tightened around him as though holding him closer could keep him from slipping away completely. “You promised me… we were supposed to talk tomorrow. You said we’d talk! You lied!”

Her cries echoed into the night, carrying her heartbreak to the empty sky above. The stars, once so bright and beautiful, now felt mocking in their distant serenity.

She buried her face against his blood-matted hair, her tears soaking into his skin. “You can’t leave me,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Not you, Crowe… not you.”

She heard a sound....

A pair of fiery red orbs grew wide like saucers as their owner beholds your slumped, blood-stained figure. His gaze reveals a mix of surprise, dread, and panic

"Luna..?"

"N-no... You shouldn't be here... You need to leave!"

His pleas fell on deaf ears. Instead, you stare at the bloody hand axe that he dropped, his equally bloody hands, and his dark shirt wet with red liquid.

He reeked of blood.

He killed Crowe.

The beginning of a nice friendship he said..?

It was only moments before disaster...

I'M SO SORRY FOR THIS. IT'S SO SHORT AND UGLY I DIDNT DO UR OC JUSTICE BUT PLS I WANTED TO WRITE SOMETHING.

Luna's moments before disaster... (⁠个⁠_⁠个⁠)

sol when I catch u sol 👿

[robynlilyblack]

Something magical

(kinda playboy!) Sirius Black x fem! muggle! reader

Summary: Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith...and sometimes that means running off with a pretty stranger

Warnings/tags: mentions of alcohol and drinking, first kiss, meet cute, strangers to something more, kinda loser! reader (but not really)

A/n: 1.4k words, little random one today ♡

Navigation | Sirius Black Masterlist

You nurse your drink, sitting alone while your coworkers are up dancing. They had insisted you come along, though you suspected it was more out of politeness than of genuine sentiment considering the empty booth before you. It's been a while since they’d come back to the table now, and you wondered if now was the best chance to sneak away, avoiding the awkward and insincere goodbyes.

Unfortunately that plan was short lived as some of the girls come back from the bathroom, giggling as they drop off their bags, slurring a little as they ask you to watch them as it's their song. Your head falls back a little in your seat, your happy mask falls revealing a defeated one, and you sigh a little as you take another sip of your drink

I’m such a loser

“Why so glum, sugar plum?” 

You sigh a little more as your eyes flick up, searching for the lucky guy or girl until...

“Up here darlin” he finally grabs your attention and your eyes snap to his, widening as they tentatively double check he definitely means you of all people, which he seems to get a kick out of, his smirk widening

“Did you really just say ‘why so glum, sugar plum’” you question with a slight giggle, eyes meeting his stunning grey ones as you sit up straighter

“Got your attention didn't I?” he defends with a wink and you shy away, looking back at your drink “Can I join you?” 

“Huh?” your head shoots back towards him “Really?” you reply more surprised than you mean to, causing your cheeks to heat, more so as it seems to make the man before you waver as well

Throughout the interaction so far he had been wearing an easy smile some would even consider a little cocky, but at the sound of your genuine surprise, it softens into something else, something you're not even he knows

“Would that be alright?” he asks carefully

“Oh…yeah of course” you gesture, moving a little deeper into the booth but then realise he might not have meant directly beside you “You meant here, right?” you point, to which he nods with a chuckle, more so as you shuffle a little more allowing him room to sit down

“So…” he starts, hand gently swirling his drink and drawing your eyes to the rings that beautifully litter his fingers “...what's got a pretty girl like yourself sitting all alone?” 

You let out a breathy laugh at the flattery “I’m not much of a dancer” you point towards your colleagues who look like their having the time of their lives

As his eyes follow your direction, taking in the scene, you take him in as well. It didn’t seem like this was his kind of scene either, he looked too much like a rocker to be in a place where the majority of men wore in suits and ties. If you were honest he looked too pretty to be anywhere but the cover of a magazine. And on top of all of that, there was just this air around him, like he was from another world altogether

“Your friends?” he wonders, leaning a little closer, thighs dangerously close to your own as the wisps of his curls threaten to tickle your cheek

“No, coworkers” you clarify with a slow shake of your head, meeting his side eye for a second before he looks back at them, nodding with a smile "I regret coming with them"

“I can see why...terrible dancers" he tries to cheer you up, taking a small swig of his drink “So why did you come out with them instead of…” he trails off, recoiling a little

“...actual friends?” you prompt and he nods with lips pressed together, looking thankful he hasn't offended you “The truth might make me seem like an even a glummer plum” you reply cringing, unable to stop the little sniff of a laugh that escapes at the end 

He grins at that and you can’t help but notice his free arm shifting to lay on the top edge of the booth “Try me” he gives you his full attention, something that makes you relax and feel safe...though your cheeks still feel like they’re on fire

"I figured being here was better than being home alone” you admit, looking down, not wishing to see his reaction and feel further embarrassment "My real friends worry I don't get out enough, that I'm alone too much"

After a second of silence you chance a peek up to find his soft smile hasn’t left "I get that...my friends are the same, though I have the opposite problem" he plays with his glass, a small scoff of a laugh coming through his nose "I don't have the best habit of going home alone" he makes his own confession before his head tilts “Why haven’t you left let?” he wonders, no malice or judgement in his voice "Besides my excellent company" he adds, lighting up at your giggle

“I want to...I just didn’t want to leave those alone” you nod across the table towards the small pile of bags

“Oh" his smile grows "If that's the only thing tying ya down” he places his glass down properly, standing up and grabbing one of the stray coats, throwing it gently over the bags before looking back at you, arm stretched out “Wanna get out here pretty girl?”

You smile back at him about to take his hand without a second thought when you stop yourself, glancing at your coworkers for a moment, then back at the man. You could be responsible, wait for them to get their bags and go home while also avoiding the potential heartbreak from the seasoned and flirtatious stranger before you, or…you be adventurous for once, take the leap of faith and maybe have a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life

“So?” he eyes you playfully, his smile positively beaming as you nod and accept his hand, letting him lead you out of the bar and into the snowy streets, unaware of your coworkers gobsmacked stares

“Where are we going?” you wonder with a laugh, coming to a stop as you wait for the crossing to flick to green, hearing cars hum as they whisk past 

He looks over at you with a toothy grin, turning to face you “Where do you want to go?” he leans down and flicks his nose upwards against yours, causing your heart to swoon and love at first sight suddenly seems like a very real threat “Got anything specific you want to do?” he raises his eyebrows 

“A few” you reveal “One more than the others” you grow brave, eyes locked onto his before they flick quickly down

“What’s stopping you?” he’s whispering now, the hot breath making you to feel lightheaded as he licks his lips

You giggle a little, licking your own before whispering back a soft “I’ve never kissed a stranger before” 

“I kiss too many strangers” he confesses, cheeks tinting but weirdly you don’t feel jealous, something about the way he’s treating you seems just as foreign to him

“If I tell you my name I'm not a stranger anymore” you reply, breathless with how his lips ghost yours "It's Y/n"

“Pretty name for a pretty girl” he states before connecting your lips

It’s softer than you’d thought it would be, sweeter, yet more thrilling than if it was solely fueled by passion. Never would you have thought the playboy boy in denim would kiss like a gentleman, that his hand would cup your cheek, thumb flicking over it like it was the most precious thing in the world 

“Wow” you breathe out, your chests heaving in time together as you pull away, opening your eyes to find his lips are plump, stained slightly around the edges from the remnants of your lipstick and your heart fills with new found pride at your handiwork

“Wow indeed” he lets out a breathy laugh, forehead kissing yours for a second before pulling back  “How does it feel to kiss a stranger?”

“Magical” you reply, looking down at your shoes as your unable to stop the silliest happy from smile taking over your face, but as you glance down at the floor you miss the twinkle in his eyes at your choice of words “How does it feel to kiss a girl called y/n?” you counter when you look back 

“Magical” he repeats your words but his are softer, like it’s the first time he’s truly meant them “I’m Sirius” he finally introduces himself

“Sirius” you confirm and he smiles, nodding “A pretty name for a pretty boy”

Thank you for reading ♡

[danacaptus]

YANDERE!READER x VICTIM!KAISER

dark content request, tasing, kidnapping, yandere!reader :o

You had been watching Michael for a very long time. At first, it was innocent: attending all his matches, cheering him on from the stands. But that wasn't enough. Soon, you found yourself sneaking into the lockers, stealing little keepsakes—a towel, a water bottle, anything that had touched his hands. Even that didn’t satisfy the gnawing hunger in your chest. Watching from afar wasn’t enough anymore. You needed him. The real thing.

Tonight was your chance. The practice field was eerily quiet, the floodlights casting long shadows as Michael trained alone. He always stayed late, pushing himself harder than anyone else, and you admired that about him. It was why he was the best, after all! Quietly, you managed slip into the lockers and poured a small vial of clear liquid into his water bottle. Your hands trembled with excitement, your heart pounding so loud you thought he might hear it. Once the deed was done, you hid in the shadows, waiting.

he finished at some point, his footsteps echoed through the empty room as he approached his locker. Michael felt relief at the view of the empty lockers, his teammates could get annoying. He grabbed his bottle, chugging the water with the thirst of someone who had given their all. The drink tasted odd—just a little off—but he shrugged it off and took another sip.

Then, the dizziness hit.

He staggered, blinking rapidly as his vision blurred. “Wha…?” he slurred before his legs gave out beneath him. His body slumped onto the bench, motionless except for the shallow rise and fall of his chest. Obviosly, you didn't lose any time! Imediately tip-toeing to him to make sure he was completely asleep. He looked handsome even in such a state, sweaty, tired and drugged; your couldn't help but feel giddy while dragging him out the lockers and making your way to your car. What a handsome man! You giggled. It took effort to drag his unconscious body to your car, but adrenaline was on your side as you laid him carefully in the back seat.

𓂃 ᡣ𐭩

The room was spinning when his eyes fluttered open, his head heavy and his vision blurry. It took Michael a while to notice that he wasn't in the lockers room, confusion turning into alarm when he noticed he was handcuffed. Before he could even say or think something clearly, you entered in the room─ your cheerful look worried him even more. Who was this weirdo? He was obviously being kidnapped and well─ it was scary, yeah. But he was more angry than anything, what could someone so weak looking do to him? You probably just wanted money. He noticed you had a plate in your hands, it had the delicious food you prepared carefully for him! You tried to give him a spoonful, but he quickly moved his head away.

“Who the hell are you?” he barked, his voice hoarse but filled with anger. “Let me go!”

“Oh, Michael,” you sighed, shaking your head as you approached him. “Don’t be like that. I’ve made this for you.” You held up a spoonful of the carefully prepared meal again, “You need your strength after all that training.”

“Get away from me!” he snapped, twisting in his restraints. His voice grew louder, angrier. “I don’t know what you want, but if it’s money, just—” He was so insistent, he had to eat something after training but he couldn't stop acting stubborn! You just wanted to feed him goodly like he need.

"Stop it, love! Let me just take care of you, i dont want your money" the smile in your face faltered, did you seem the kind of person that would kidnap him for money? He wouldn’t stop yelling, thrashing against the cuffs and calling you every name he could think of. Each insult felt like a dagger, twisting in your chest. Your patience was wearing thin.

“Michael,” you said through gritted teeth, your cheerful mask slipping. “Don’t make me do something I’ll regret.”

“Do your worst, do you think i want someone like you to be my maid? you crazy bit—” His defiance was cut short by the sharp crackle of a taser. The jolt of electricity sent his body convulsing, a strangled scream ripping from his throat. The sound of the taser crackling filled the room, blending with his raw, involuntary screams.

He thought he was too clever, huh? Well, disobedience is not tolerated here! Michael had almost forgot how this kind of pain felt, it made him feel as vulnerable as he felt back then, though more angry. He yelled you to stop, but you couldn't stop; he needed a lesson─ even if it made you kind of sad seeing your love like this!

"No, michael. If you dont obey, i'll have to discipline you!"

You just stopped when he was half-conscious, picking up his limp body from the floor. Gently, you cradled his head in your lap

"I will never let you go. I'll give you the most important things you need, micha!" You caressed the burn mark in his neck 'soothingly' while whispering those sweet nothing at him.

"P-please... Let me go" he managed to plead hoarsely. Wasn't he cute? It made you chuckle, but you also covered his mouth─ he shouldn't beg you to let him go, fate brought you together even though he doesn't understand it. "Hush, darling. You’ll thank me one day."

"I love you... forever" you whispered lovingly. He had to get used to it at some point!

This is my first yandere!reader and i made it for my first requestt so i hope its okay, i was chuckling while writting bc it was like punishing kaiser for hurting poor ness 😔 isagi count your days too :) /jk

[artsarasp]

Hello! I love your art style so much! It scratches an itch idk how to explain it lol

I also wanna ask how would sy!ming fan look like in the future? Would he still look like ur older ming fan art before or would there be some changes to the hair or accessories?

AAA thank you!! This is such a fun question!

They would look very different! While I don't know how "By hook or by Crook" is gonna end, sy!mf lacks the character traits that lead to my Peak Lord Ming Fan design! Since that design is based specifically on how Prim and Tiny write Ming Fan and how his interactions with Zhao De would evolve.

Peak Lord Ming Fan is insecure about himself, especially his appearance. That leads to him overcompensating with an excessive amount of jewelry because the notion that he's dull and bleak has been drilled into his head at this point and he's doing everything to not be that. Also his only reference on how to be a Peak lord has been Shen Qingqiu!!! The og goods! With all his problems! Ming Fan is stuck with his shizun's bitch resting face for all eternity!

Also, overall, this Ming Fan needs so much more therapy.

If I had to design an older sy!mf; First off, he wouldn't be as flashy, because he's not insecure! Like, he knows he's kinda got the short end of the stick when it comes to looks in pidw, but since everyone is usually otherworldly beautiful he's actually just a normal dude! He can be pretty with enough effort and he's poser enough to put in the effort when given the chance! He can certainly act more graceful and cool than og Ming Fan could too, that gives him more charm! When he gets out the ugly duckling phase he's gonna be quite cute, Binghe is gonna be so smug about having seen it before everyone else. Now I don't know how the story will end, so lets put in two possible endings for the fun of it! Ending 1 - Binghe and Ming Fan fuck off and become rogue cultivators. Ending 2 - Binghe and Ming Fan become emperors of the realms together after going to the abyss.

Rogue cultivator Ming Fan wears more practical clothes as well as hair do! Perfect for running around and getting into trouble with Binghe! Emperor Ming Fan needs to show off a little bit! Gotta be a lil bit more of a poser when you're an emperor, so he's got fancier clothes and he lets his hair down cause it looks better! :D Also, fun detail! Notice that while the two SY!MF kept their freckles, Peak Lord Ming Fan doesn't have them. That's because PL!MF is, again, insecure. Gotta get rid of all imperfections. Meanwhile, the other two are very happy to let Binghe kiss every single freckle on their cheeks <3

[loving-family-poll]

2nd Ultimate Incest Tournament - Round 2

Propaganda under the cut:

Anna/Elsa:

THE juggernaut Frozen ship, and I will never forget our glory days!! Anna's act of true love canonically saving Elsa, and then them having a bunch of children from Elsa's sneezes in the Frozen short… Iconic. They will ALWAYS be the most important thing in each other's lives (remember the time Kristoff was trying to propose to Anna, and she was like "Hmm did you see how Elsa was acting weird? I need to go investigate")

Staple for the incest and yuri fandom of the 2010s. Ridiculously romantic storyline of having the kind of true love that's stuff of legends, capable of trumping fear and breaking curses. They are willing to sacrifice anything for each other and we even have a dumbfounded person looking at how beautiful the other is atop of the stairs. Olaf is their baby I guess.

In their attempt to pander to homophobic fans and make a movie about sisterly love instead of lesbians, Disney accidentally made the most beautiful incestuous love story of all time. I just KNOW they were fantasizing about each other while Elsa was locked in her room for all those years. Yes, it's supposed to be a family-friendly princess movie. True sickos know that that's the point.

Elsa and Anna. Two sisters who are separated for thirteen years and yet those thirteen years only entangle them deeper – Anna haunting Elsa because Elsa will not let herself forget the night of the accident, holding Anna close as a child and sobbing… Elsa’s whole life after that moment defined by that moment, defined by protecting Anna and keeping her distance from Anna while yearning to be near to her as the years go by… Elsa sacrificing her everything in the desperate hope that Anna will be safe… If “love is putting someone else’s needs before yours,” then Elsa does that over and over for thirteen years even as she suffers from wanting all the time to be with her sister… – Elsa haunting Anna because Anna is separated from her sister but does not know why, separated from her sister but longing for her sister – and to both of them, the thought of the other becomes something to worship – until Anna gives her life to throw herself before Elsa and stop the falling sword – until Elsa can finally, finally touch Anna again but now Anna is frozen to solid ice, so the only thing Elsa can touch is the reminder that she killed the person she loves most in this world. And then Anna thaws and they cling to each other, united by love – by a desperate, all-consuming, true love that thaws Arendelle around them – and they still carry the thousand wounds from their childhood but they have each other, they love each other, they are in each other’s arms.

I cannot stress enough how intense the film’s focus on touch makes things for incest shippers. Not only are the sister’s separated, but Elsa cannot touch Anna skin to skin, must always wear the gloves, must always keep a barrier between herself and the one she most longs to hold, to touch. Imagine the exhilaration of that first embrace on the fjord. Being able to touch without fear for the first time in years. Imagine the relief.

I also want to cite this, from an anonymous submission to a headcanon blog:

"However, since protecting Anna also required her to stay away from Anna at all times, Anna became sacred, in a sense: something fragile and special to be watched over but never touched or spoken to. She would come to love Anna in much the same way people come to love religious icons: Anna had always been there and had never been there. She loved Elsa and did not know Elsa. She was warm and kind and dedicated and was under no circumstances to be tainted with Elsa’s presence unless she kept the tightest possible control over herself."

That fear of destroying Anna, of corrupting Anna by touching her, of letting loose the repressed part of herself - all of it comes together so exquisitely for an incest ship.

And after they rediscover each other, in Frozen 2? Their bond remains just as intense. The last word on Elsa’s lips before freezing is Anna’s name. Anna, when she realizes Elsa’s “death,” sings a heartbreaking song that includes the lyrics:

“I can't find my direction, I'm all alone The only star that guided me was you How to rise from the floor When it's not you I'm rising for?”

Their pain is born of their love, and their love for each other drives them both forward."

Lestat/Gabrielle:

what if you were a 21 yo blonde guy turned into a vampire against your will and you turned your terminally ill emotionally unavailable 50 yo mother in a vampire also and she immediately started to dress as a beautiful man (she is eerily similar to you…) and you thought that you weren't alone finally and she would understand you and finally accept you and you made out nasty style but then she realized that she still doesn't really give a fuck about you. and ran away into the forest. to sleep in the dirt.

conversely what if you were a noblewoman that hates all of her children and feels completely and absolutely alone all of the time and trapped in a life you do not want but then your least hated son (who looks exactly like you and who you feel insanely jealous of because he is able to live the life you cannot) turns you into a vampire and for an evening you feel happiness and you experience true freedom until you realize that this new more powerful existence which frees you from the social norms of your time ALSO makes you unable to change anything about yourself so you can't even CUT YOUR HAIR LIKE THE MAN YOU ARE. and ALSO your annoying fucking crybaby son is there still and you hate him a little because despite being what you WISH you were he does not accept that freedom? and insists on living among humans? so you run away to live in the forest and sleep in the dirt

Flamboyant bi son and emotionally distant transmasc mom duo who bond to survive abusive circumstances and start making out after he turns her into a vampire (which technically makes him her dad as well). Lestat describes her boobs in lurid detail and literally refers to them as "lovers kissing" in canon. Gabrielle ends up abandoning her sonlover after a couple years on the road together, causing him to literally bury himself under a house out of sheer misery. If they try to smooth any of this over in the books I will riot.

freaky, freaky man and his genderqueer mother who he’s totally normal about. they kiss on the mouth many times and are described as lovers

[valyrfia]

Which ships do you think would become even more toxic if yurified

Charlando is the obvious answer…..the Max and Carlos haunting the narrative of it all…..them thinking the other’s a slut for sleeping with *gasp* their male friends (whether they’ve actually done it or not is redundant)……constantly seeing the other as competition and threat to their own femininity and their position as “best female F1 driver”….hating each other’s guts and yet having a strange camaraderie they can’t share with anything else. All Charlando is perfect enemies to lovers (or enemies AND lovers) fodder but it does become a thousand times better when they’re both girls and you fold all the confusingness of being a woman into it. Charlando are my go to toxic yuri FOREVER. @cherrari just wrote some excellent Charlando yuri, if you’re interested in consulting the tomes.

I also think Carcar would make for excellent toxic yuri as in you’ve got this millennial European woman Carlos who has all these ingrained ideas about beauty and femininity and then you’ve got this Australian gen z woman Oscar who probably wears cargo shorts and her hair in a ponytail with a baseball cap on her days off but is still undeniably feminine. They’re expected to get along because they’re women but they don’t really like each other. Cue the toxic yuri.

Also third is galex just for the true homoerotic teenage friendship canon event.

[violentdelights-violentendss]

Could u do a scenario based around that one tiktok prank of wearing a towel in front of your s/o then pretending u open it in front of the camera while ur filming a tiktok ? with logan pls ?

Heyyyy! Of course! Someone else also requested this in the comments!!! Please request a thousand more things!!

•

Pranking Logan By Pretending to Flash the Camera.

Pairing: Fem!Mutant Reader x Logan Howlett

Synopsis: You decide to prank your boyfriend by pretending to flash the camera.

You lunged towards Logan, avoiding his punch. You pushed yourself with your super speed as you twirled behind him, trying to surprise him. Your boyfriend, however, knew you too well, expecting your move and throwing out an arm to stop you. Logan knocked the breath from your stomach, slowing you down enough for him to grab your waist and slam you against the tatami mats in the training room. You grunted as Logan hovered over you, holding you still with his right arm on your shoulder. “Got you, princess.” He grinned proudly, the drops of sweat gliding down his skin, disappearing in the neckline of his wife beater.

You closed your eyes: You were truly spent, having been sparring with him for the past hour. Exhaustion was pulling you closer towards the comfortable tatami mats, calling you to accept the defeat. But the glint of smugness present in Logan's face irked you, pushing you to collect the little droplets of strength that stagnated in your limbs. You, gently, twisted Logan's wrist, making him lose his only support. He fell to the floor, moving his arm to catch you, but he was too slow, his hand closing around the air where you had been a few seconds before. You landed your hands on Logan's hips, turning him around and pushing him down on the ground. He grunted, flinching in pain when you jumped on his lap. “I…got you!” You said, collapsing into his chest. Logan welcomed you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

"You sure did, princess." He complimented, sliding his hand down your body and giving a slight squeeze to your ass. You only managed to roll your eyes back at him teasingly, too spent to react. You guys laid together in silence for a few moments, just listening to your heartbeats slowly turn from erratic to frantic, as you calmed down, uncaring, or rather almost enjoying, the feel of your sweat mingling together.

“We should go shower, baby." Logan said, gently placing you on the tatami next to him. You had been with him so long it didn't even surprise you with what ease he picked you up, even after such an intense training session.

“We really should. I think I could fill up the pool with the amount of sweat I currently have on my body.”

“That is a horrifying image.” Logan chuckled, as he grabbed your outstretched hand and pulled you up from the ground.

“I'm so tired!" You yawned, rubbing your eyes. "How do you manage to predict my moves every single time." You asked, feeling the comfortable weight of Logan's arm slung around your shoulder.

"You're easy to predict." He said simply, shrugging his shoulders. You slapped his chest, and Logan pretended to grimace in pain. "Kidding, love. I just know you." You smiled as you pressed the button to open the doors of the male changing room. Theoretically, you should be going to the female one next door, but it was 2 in the morning: you knew no one would be there, and you wanted to be with your boyfriend. Logan thought the same thing, not even bothering to comment on the situation.

As you walked inside, you grabbed your phone from Logan's duffel bag. "Imma go pee real quick." You said, heading to the bathroom. Logan grunted in response.

You skipped to the bathroom, quickly doing your business. You washed your hands, deciding to doom scroll for a few seconds on TikTok. Just as you were about to lock your phone, a couple prank video stopped your thumb from hitting the lock button. You watched as a woman opened her towel, showing the viewers how she was wearing short clothes underneath her towel, making it seem she was naked underneath. She then waltzed in front of her unsuspecting boyfriend, pretending to dance and then opened her towel towards the camera, leading the boyfriend to think she was flashing the camera. He reacted quickly, jumping in front of her, and flailing his arms.

You glanced at your outfit, and quickly assessed you could pull off the prank just fine. Did you have any reason to do this? Absolutely not, but it was fun, and you loved messing around with your grumpy little Wolverine. You grabbed a folded towel from the shelves, thanking Professor X for always providing them. You unzipped your workout jacket, remaining in your tube top, thankful you had decided to wear it for the day. You glanced down towards your leggings and shorts combo, slipping both off, only putting the shorts back on. You grabbed the towel resting on the counter, wrapping it around you. You smiled: you really looked as if you were wearing nothing underneath.

You hastily tightened the towel, scrunching up your discarded pieces of clothing in your hands to render them a confused clump of black fabric, not letting Logan realize you were still wearing a few things. You walked out, throwing the clothes on the bench, right next to Logan who was pulling off his shirt. You almost drooled, shaking your head to remain focused.

“Logan?” You called tentatively, already placing the phone on the bench in front of you. “Before we shower wanna do a TikTok trend with me?” You asked, twirling your fingers.

Logan looked at you, wife-beater still in hand, his trademark raised eyebrow adorning his face. “I’m not so sure…I’m not as up to date with these things as you are. I am 200 years old after all.”

“I know you don’t feel exactly comfortable, and that’s why I don’t ask you often.” You said, looking at him with your puppy dog eyes.

He threw his head back, knowing exactly what you were doing. “The things I do for you.” He slapped his thighs, standing up in all his shirtless glory. “Fine, doll. Do your worst. Tell me what I have to do.” You squealed happily.

“Okay so, we just have to dance to this song about loving your partner.” Logan smiled tenderly. “And then right before the beat drops you kiss me.” You said, knowing the lie was shitty but heavily, oh so heavily, relying on Logan’s absolute ignorance on social media.

“Dancing,” he grunted. “Me?” He pointed his finger at himself.

You patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry baby, just move your hips like you would have a few decades ago.” You said, as you pressed the 10 second count down, pulling Logan by the arm to be in frame.

“I didn’t dance a few decades ago.” He grunted, standing next to you. The countdown reached one, and the music started blasting. You danced happily, watching Logan who stiffly tried to dance as well. He was basically just hoping from foot to foot, but that was okay: he was trying. The beat drop started to approach, and Logan slowed down his hopping to approach you. The anticipation in your fingers made them shake slightly as you wrapped them around the top of your towel dress, getting ready. You were thrumming with energy, excitedly eyeing Logan.

The minute the beat dropped, and Logan had been expecting you to turn to face him, you yelled “SURPRISE!” and yanked open your towel, standing slightly in front of Logan to delay his inevitable discovery a little longer.

Logan moved so quickly you only realized what was happening because your eyes had been trained by years and years of combat. His eyes widened, almost popping out of his sockets, before the man hastily wrapped both arms around your waist, trying to reach for the most important parts. His right hand landed on your crotch, splayed as much as he could, while his left hand wrapped and your chest; Logan cupped your left breast with his large hand, relying on the bulge of his bicep to cover the other one. Simultaneously to this, Logan utilized his inhumane strength to turn you around as if you were a piece of paper, giving his back to the camera just as the TikTok sound ended and the phone stopped recording.

“[Y/N], what the fuck?!” He said, looking down at you. “What, why are you laughing?” He barked, still holding onto you as tightly as he could. Your feet barely grazed the ground.

“Baby! Logan, you can stop squeezing my tits as if your life depended on it! I’m dressed,” you snorted, gesturing down to your apparent state of not undress. Logan looked down so fast you swore you heard his neck crack. The minute he saw the clothes enveloping your body, he let go of you. You landed on the ground, the towel sliding off your body, laying limply on the floor.

Logan dropped down on the bench, exasperated, running a hand through his hair. “If I weren’t basically immortal, I would have died. Right here!” He snarled, no real vehemence behind his tone. “I was just trying to do what you told me and then bam, I think you’re showing the world everything.” He slumped against the wall, rolling his eyes. “Fuck me.”

You grabbed your phone, still laughing, while simultaneously trying to reassure him. “Oh, Logan, please. I know this is only for your eyes only. It was a prank! Come on, don’t make that sad kitty face,” you said, squeezing his hand as you tried to stop another burst of laughter. Logan didn’t say anything, pretending to be mad at you. He turned his head away from you, but you saw the ghost of a smile dance on his lips, even if he was trying to repress it. You decided to try a different approach.

“I think I loved doing this. You know why?” You asked, starting to play with the hair on his chest. Logan just melted against you, even though he was trying to pretend to be mad. “Because I got proof, once again, that my boyfriend loves me to the moon and back. And…I also have the proof that you are so undefeated in battle because you have great reflexes.” You said. This seemed to fully derail Logan from his original plan of fake anger.

“Really?” He mused, raising his eyesbrows at you. You nodded, pulling out the phone and showing him the video.

“Look, look how fucking fast you pulled me away, and look, I have to put the video in 0.75 speed to even remotely understand what is happening.” You said, pointing out at the screen. You looked up, seeing Logan to now have a smug grin on his lips.

“I’m not so bad after all.” He chirped. You smiled up at him, nodding in full agreement. “Now,” he said, his face suddenly changing to serious. “Wanna actually strip, and head in the shower? We could have some fun.” He grinned, taking your phone and throwing it in his duffle back.

You licked your lips, hastily rushing to the shower room, leaving a trail of clothes behind you. Logan laughed loudly, something that didn’t happen off, slowly standing up, unbuckling his belt as he also made his way to the shower room.

[eustasskiddsprosthetic]

I have a terrible idea just now.

Do you know those consultants (?) the people who help brides decide on what wedding dresses to get for their wedding day. I feel like Ace would be great at that job. He might not understand aesthetics very well—he finds all that high key boring—but he would put the bride first in every decision he makes. He'd smile and his flirtish side would come out in complimenting the bride to encourage them. He has definitely beat up more than a few annoying entourage.

What if femlaw is a customer one fine day and Ace is absolutely smitten! He knows she's off-limits, like get it together she's getting married, but she's so pretty! Ace loves her pouty lips, piercings, tattoos and slightly muscular shoulders. She's also very shy and timid. To Ace, that meant very cute.

He's determined to help her find the dress of her dreams!

He's happy to see that she seemed to have a good man who's willing to pay whatever she wanted and seemed to treat her affectionately. She deserves that much, anyway. When Ace asked what she wanted for her dress, Law just looked away, very clearly embarrassed. He reassured her that whatever she wanted can't be 'that bad'! She just said she wanted something simple and figure-hugging. Ace said sure and went to work.

After thirty minutes, Ace returned with five dresses for her to try. Ace told her to knock the door three times when she's ready for him to add accessories. Law thanked him and closed the door.

Ace was surprised to hear her knock the door in just ten minutes. He closed his webnovel and walked inside. Fuck- She was stunning. Despite doing this for a living, he never wanted to get married but he was having second thoughts now. To have a beautiful woman willingly dress up, put in effort to feel pretty just to be with you was an honour.

Ace finally understood why some men would simp so hard for their wives. He sure hoped Law's man simped for her. A girl like that isn't common at all!

"Ace, can I be honest with you?" She said. She had only spoken a few words to him up to this point, and they were mostly pleasantries. He was surprised when she stopped him from putting the veil on her head, though he sensed there was a deeper reason than her not liking it. "I don't want to get married. I'm not ready."

"Oh?" Ace knew he looked stupid. "What made you realise that?"

"I knew it when I realised I love this dress," she said softly. Nearly tearing up, she said, "Which is why I don't see myself walking up to him in it. I don't think I love him as much as I think I do."

"What do you want to do? The consult is free, you're not obliged to buy anything-"

"I know. Thank you," she said. They looked at their reflection in the mirror. She looked so tired all of a sudden. She looked like she would pass out from exhaustion. Ace felt bad for her. "To answer you... I don't know. I've wanted to call it off for a while now. Might as well before I sign anything binding."

"How are you going to do that?"

That was when she laughed slightly. Granted it was a sarcastic laugh but Ace ate it up all the same. He knew he was falling for her.

"Again, I don't know. But I'm tired of waiting for a plan," she said. She smiled triumphantly at Ace like she was proud for even saying she wanted to rebel. That's it. Ace was gone. "I'm going to be reckless and I'm going to castrate him and take his money!"

Ace's heart squeezed.

"I'll help," he said easily.

She smiled like she accepted the offer. Ace fell in love for the first time in his life.