#or the most thankless one ever

[absensia-archived]

1.1 WHAT HORROR TROPE ARE YOU?

THE SACRIFICE. A knife to your back is your first memory – it will also be your last. You cannot help but let things into your heart, such is your nature. Time and time again, however, they hurt you and leave you to rot. But your heart remains open, and you continue to let more in. Is it kindness, at that point, OR IS IT SACRIFICE?

1.2 WHAT TRAGIC DEATH WOULD YOU SUFFER?

THE BETRAYAL. You die at the hands of the person you love most. Maybe there are tears in their eyes as they drive the sword into your chest, maybe there is none. There are certainly tears in yours. Your mouth will open to ask "WHY" only to spit blood instead. You will die never knowing if they loved you at all, wondering if you could've done something to prevent this, or if it was always going to end this way.

[a-hazbin-reader]

Please. Alastor x single mom?

Oh my god and imagine how he’d give her the best Mother’s Day ever after years of just her waking up to a normal day aside from her baby giving her a macaroni necklace or a card and now she’s waking up to a breakfast in bed and a day to relax I’m not getting emotional you are

Okay, but y'all are giving me baby fever fr with these asks

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: F L U F F, A little bit of sex towards the end but a very small amount

Description: ☝️⬆️

Whether or not you were a mother when you were alive, you certainly were one now. You took in and protected as many children sinners you could because nobody else would

You took care of toddlers all the way up to teenagers, it was an exhausting and thankless job but you don't think you could ever quit

Not when one of your kids comes crying to you because they scraped their knee, or they had their first heartbreak, or they had a nightmare

How any of them ended up down here was baffling to you, especially the youngest ones

You protected your family fiercely and have even gone toe to toe with overlords to keep your kids safe, earning you a reputation for being a mama bear

You loved being their mother and wouldn't give it up for anything, no matter your own sins

So when one of your little ones goes missing, you're panicking and searching everywhere for her. You spend all day trying to find her and asking anybody if they've seen her

After hours of searching, one of your teenagers calls you, telling you they found her but that you need to come home immediately. You don't need to hear anything more

When you get home, you find your little girl sitting in the lap of Charlie Morningstar, Hell's Princess. All your kids are gathered around her while she tells them about her hotel

Something you had been trying not to let them know about because you didn't want to get their hopes up only to be heartbroken. It was cruel

Not to mention the shady characters that probably stay there.

So imagine your irritation when all your children suddenly swarm you and start begging to stay at the hotel. Each one excited and hopeful to learn how to go to heaven

You can't tell them no so you try to dissuade them but they insist on going so you allow it. It's very reluctant agreement though.

You try to keep all your children close to you once you enter the hotel and see the others. Let's see, an angelic exorcist, a p0rnstar, a tiny murderous maid, a drunk bartender and one of the most deadly overlords around

You were unimpressed, and it showed as you held your kids a little tighter, not even hearing Charlie excitedly telling you about all the amenities

You have a difficult time letting your kids sleep so far away from you, all of them excited to get their own rooms. You often check on them throughout the night

More than once, Alastor has caught you peeking into their bedrooms to make sure they're still safe in their beds

You startle when you hear his amused laughter, nearly bumping right into his chest as you close the door behind you

"Nobody is going to eat them while they're asleep, you know."

You can't help but feel defensive, crossing your arms and giving Alastor a withering look

"That's not funny coming from you."

His smile only gets wider, gripping your chin and tilting your head up as he leans in close

"Darling, it's even funnier because it's coming from me!"

You insist on making sure your children eat a good diet, often making it yourself because you don't trust anybody else to do it. That and some of your little ones can be picky eaters

Often, Alastor stops by the kitchen to watch you, curious about what you're making and how much of it you plan to make

"My my~ That smells absolutely delicious, my dear~! What are you making?"

You're guarded, setting down the plates on the table a little harder than you meant to

"It's just an old family recipe, nothing special."

So imagine your weary surprise when he starts to help you cook, helping with the food preparation and even setting the table. You start to get used to his help, relaxing a little more each time you two stand hip to hip, cooking

He's even taken to sitting down to meals with you and your family, an amused smile on his face as he watches all of you interact. Eventually, he joins in the conversations, and your youngest ones get comfortable enough to even eat off his plate

"Don't take food from his plate! That's rude..!"

"It's quite alright, my dear~ I find it endearing~"

He's even in your corner when your picky eaters rise up and try to say they don't like what you made. Pushing their plates away and pouting

"Mom, I don't like it..."

You can't help but sigh and roll your eyes, exasperated and annoyed that you have to go through this again

"Yes you do, you've eaten this before and you gobbled it up... Just try it, baby."

They whine and try to refuse when Alastor speaks up, pushing their plate back towards them gently

"Now, now, your mother worked hard on this meal... We don't want her good efforts to go to waste, do we?"

"No..."

Your child whines but reluctantly takes their fork and begins eating, Alastor giving you a triumphant grin as he sits back down

You take a bite of your own food to hide the fond smile that wants to creep up onto your face

The hardest, scariest moment at the hotel for you was when you and one of your older girls got into an argument in front of Alastor

It all started over a party and a boy, you wouldn't let her go and in typical teenage fashion, she started to fight with you. The more you held your ground and said no, the worse it got

"Young lady, that is not a good environment for you! It is a disgusting den of perverts, drugs and uninhibited violence!"

You tried to stay calm and reason with her, but her emotions were running too high

"We're in HELL! There's no place here that's good for any of us! Why do you have to be such a bitch!?"

Before you can even open your mouth to reply, Alastor places a hand on her shoulder, his smile twitching and the sound of static buzzing

Your heart drops as you fear he's going to hurt her, instinctively moving forward to stop him

"Alastor-"

"Dear one, it's bad manners to talk to your mother like that. She only worries for you and wants to keep you safe. I suggest you go to your room and calm down, then come back to apologize to her. Hm~?"

He pats her head and nudges her to go to her room, turning to you and tilting his head. She looks embarrassed and a little ashamed, seemingly taking Alastor's words to heart

"Ah, teenagers~ Always so temperamental even when dead~"

You do your best to ignore the sudden heat on your cheeks, the way Alastor handled the situation having you feel some type of way

If Alastor were to have a type...he would have to say he's definitely drawn to the motherly type, it's a weakness of his

So when Charlie drags you and your gaggle of children to the hotel, Alastor has an inkling of the kind of trouble he's in for the moment he sees you

He's seen how you've come running out of your room in the dead of night because you heard one of your little ones crying from a nightmare. How you spend the rest of your night awake and rocking them back to sleep

Alastor has watched you run yourself ragged trying to get all of your children ready to go out for the day, juggling your teenagers yelling at you because they can't find their clothes and your little ones tugging on your clothes for your attention

He's noticed how you'll shield your family from sinners at least twice your size without fear. Not even he himself was an exception from your intense protectiveness

In the earlier days of your family moving in, Alastor had picked up one of your younger kids to stop them from touching something and you had panicked

He'll never forget how you had tore your kid away from him and held them tight, giving Alastor a intense look as you poked his chest

"Never do that again."

He had tried to brush it off and charm you with a smile, acting unbothered

"Darling, your family is in no danger here. I can assure you-"

"Bullshit. There's no such thing as a safe place or someone you can trust, not here."

You had stormed off after that and Alastor was left with a warm feeling building in his chest that has yet to leave

Your soft smile whenever one of your kids snuggled with you, the way you sighed and put your hands on your hips when they argued with you. Your voice when you sang your littlest ones to sleep

It was all so addicting for him, he found himself wanting to be a part of your family and the love within it

Without even realizing it, Alastor had begun filling the role of the father in your family, ending up getting attached to each of your kids

He learned what made them happy, what made them sad or scared, which ones needed hugs and which ones preferred words

Both you and Alastor began to work together as a team, and most people outside of the hotel just assumed you two were a married couple. A married couple with a small army of kids

You stop one child from bumping into someone, and Alastor scoops up the other two before they can do the same

Alastor will cook dinner and you'll clean up the mess while you both sneak the dessert that the kids don't know you have

All of you will hang out together in the lobby of the hotel, Alastor humming to himself and pretending to nap while your girls play with his hair and paint his claws

Your boys will all be cuddled up around you while you read a story to them, both of you enjoying the domestic bliss

There's a building tension between you and Alastor that everyone can sense, even the kids but nobody comments on it

Except Angel but he doesn't dare bring it up around you two

Your kids start pulling little stunts to get you two to end up together, offering to make you both dinner only for it to be classically romantic with candles, flowers and your children pretending to be waiters

Or asking embarrassing questions in front of the two of you, like if Alastor thought you looked pretty or if you liked Alastor's voice

Or wanting both of you to tuck them and give them goodnight kisses at the same time

The worst part is...it was totally working

The tipping point came when one of your boys woke up crying in the middle of the night, both you and Alastor barging into the bedroom

He was inconsolable, having obviously had a nightmare and repeating that he didn't belong here. He only quieted down once you and Alastor wrapped your arms around him

The three of you were cuddled up on a bed that was far too small for all of you, you couldn't contain your blush once you realized this

So Alastor offered up his room for the night, and the three of you snuggled together in his bed, Alastor's arms wrapping around you

You both woke up with more kids in the bed than you remember going to sleep with, your little boy having climbed onto one of his sisters instead

Leaving you tucked under Alastor's chin with your face in his neck, Alastor's strong arms around your waist and his face buried in your hair

The two of you had pulled away out of embarrassment, making eye contact before suddenly melting back together, soft smiles on your faces

"Alastor..?"

"Hm~?"

"I really want to kiss you right now..."

You two are unofficially, officially a couple after that. Grossing out your children by kissing each other, saying sappy things, just embarrassing them with how in love you are

It's so painfully domestic, but Alastor wouldn't give it up for anything. Not when the youngest ones grab his legs and try to hold him down, not when the teenagers get snarky with him. Not when you two bicker over what's best for the family

Even the more embarrassing moments, like when you two are in bed together, Alastor chasing his release as you lock your legs around him and dig your nails into his back

He's nearly about to spill inside you when there's a tentative knock on the door, making the two of you freeze and whip your heads towards the sound

"Papa..? Mama? I keep hearing scary noises, and I can't sleep..."

It's an awkward untangling of limbs and soft cursing before you two start laughing at how absurd it is

Or the softer moments when he looks into the bedroom to see you singing your kids to sleep, feeling himself grow relaxed and sleepy at the sound of it

His life has nearly completely changed since meeting you and your family, but he wouldn't change anything even if he could

Rosie often teases him about how much he's softened up for his family. It's all good-natured, though, she just as attached to them as he is

"So Alastor~ How's that little family of yours doing? Did your girls finally stop fighting over that boy?"

"They're lovely as always, but unfortunately, that boy seems to have been scared off."

"Such a shame~"

"Quite~"

Honestly, the only thing Alastor needs now is to find you a ring

@valerie-is-in-the-cupboard I know we talked about you writing a lil' something about this, so I tried to twist it up because I didn't want to inadvertently take any ideas you had!

[purplereina11]

New Signing, New Beginning Part 7

Mia Larsen was Barcelonas new summer signing

Alexia Putellas is a club legend who just can't seem to talk to her

Mia was staying with Keira the night of the El Classico, she was relaxing on her sofa watching the TV as Keira was getting the spare room ready, something she hovered to help with but was scolded so skulked away. There was some Spanish soap on the television her grandparents watched religiously, she found herself invested and if not home to catch it had them record the episode for her. She smiled at the text she got from her Gran assuring her she was recording the episode for her incase Keira didn’t watch it.

“Hey” Kiera spoke as she came into the living room, she looked at the TV “Oh god you like this too?” Keira flopped onto the sofa, “Alexia loves it, her and Lucy used to always talk about it, she used to watch it, I haven’t a clue what’s going on ever”

“Why did you not just put subtitles on?” Mia spoke like it was the most obvious suggestion and it probably was

“She wouldn’t let me, she said I would pick up Spanish better if I didn’t have them on” Mia giggled moving her head to look at Keira before her attention turned right back to the episode, “Not that has proved to be true”

“It’s nice you two are still friends”

“There was no bad blood there, we just.. ran our course I guess. Ona makes her so happy, and she’s a good person. She helps me a lot with my Spanish”

Mia hummed, “I noticed that, Aitana has the thankless task of the Catalan I’ve noticed”

“We don’t all grow up in multi lingual houses Mia” Mia smiled, “I think Aita has given up, to be fair it just wasn’t going in at all, languages has never been my thing”

“You understand a lot”

Keira nodded, “Yeah I understand it just can’t speak it” Keira pointed to the Tv, “Thought you were watching this”

“It’s fine, my gran text she’s recording it for me”

Keira swooned, “That is so adorable”

“Yeah.. she’s the best”

Both looked as there was tapping at the door, Keira furrowed her brows as Mia looked back to her silently asking are you going to get that, Keira pulled herself off the sofa and towards the door she pulled it, “Oh, hi” she smiled at Alexia at her door, Mia hadn’t turned around to see who was at the door she just snuggled under her blanket that little bit more.

She felt her body get goosebumps when she heard that voice, one she’d not heard in some time now, it had been maybe 4 days since they’re confrontation, Mia had lost count of the nights she’d laid awake replaying it over and over in her head. What she would say when Alexia made the move to make it less awkward between them again. If she had the chance. Mia had become an expert in not being where Alexia was until today.

Alexia opened her mouth to ask her question when she got the sweetest smile on her lips, “You watch this? Lucy said you hated it”

“Oh um” Keira looked and from here you couldn’t actually see Mia, “No.. Mias here, she watches it” Keira silently gained Alexia’s attention her eye contact told her to go say hello, “What did you need?”

“Oh, I needed sugar.. please”

Keira nodded, “I’ll put some in a cup”

“Gracias”

Mia sat tense whether the captain would come acknowledge her or not, she knew she was here but there conversation moved past Mia’s presence quite quickly. Mia’s chin rose to look above her, feeling her presence, her attention was fully focused on the show, Mia lowered her head back down. For a second she thought Alexia had pointedly come over to actively ignore her, “Hola” her voice was timid, Alexia was fearful she’d get the angry face from Mia that had played on repeat in her dreams.

Mia swallowed, “Hola” that came out quieter than she intended, Mia found herself wanting to make small talk but she figured she’d let Alexia fill the silence, she obviously came over for a reason. Maybe actually mustering up the courage to apologise, who knows.

Alexia glanced as Keira appeared with a cup, “Gracias” Alexia stared at the sugar in the cup, “You were great today”

“Thank you” Mia spoke softly, Alexia waited for her to say something else, smile at her, just even acknowledge she was stood behind her but she never. Alexia admitted defeat despite her abysmal attempt and retreated back to her apartment a few floors up.

“Mia” Keira said softly as she sat back down

“I know i did wrong but she started it”

“Are you 12?”

Mia smiled, “No, but she loves reminding me she’s the captain so she can make this right that’s what a captain should do”

+

Mia was fiddling with her shorts as she walked down the corridor, “Bon Dia” she rose her head and Alexia was right in front of her. Alexia smiled ever so slightly, she really wanted to make amends with Mia but she just didn’t know where to start with it.

“Bon Dia” Mia lowered her head again and went walking straight by her, Alexia took a breath turned grabbed her hand before Mia even knew what was happening she found herself in the meeting room door shut and Alexia blocking the exit. “I’m not doing this with you again”

“Sit down”

“No” Mia fought back, “Why should I sit down?”

“Sit” Alexia rose her voice slamming the chair back out from under the table, “Down”

The girls in the locker room next door fell silent hearing Alexia raise her voice, Keira swallowed there was only one person Alexia would speak to like that. There was only one other person missing.

“Sitting down isn’t going to happen, what, do you want” Mia had her back up, and rightfully so here Alexia was speaking to her like shit again. Mia could feel all these emotions swirling around her body as they stood silently neither making a move Alexia looking everywhere but her as she searched for some words to say.

Mia silently urged Alexia just to make this right, apologise, do something because holding her hostage in the meeting room wasn’t achieving anything. It was pointless. Futile. Fruitless. It was getting them no where. It wasn’t achieving anything. It was just building more anger and resentment towards the captain on Mias part.

“This is stupid” Mia moved by Alexia, she didn’t mean to bump into her as she opened the door.

“Stop” Alexia slammed the door back shut, turning Mias body to face her. They were incredibly close, Alexia could feel Mia’s breath. She was lost in every sense Mia was infiltrating. Her touch, her smell, her sight. The words weren’t coming yet again and she could feel Mias anger building again.

“Say something then” Mia whispered into the smallest gap between them, Alexia practically pushing her against the door.

“Please, just, sit down”

Mia put her hands on Alexia’s stomach forcing some distance, “That’s not what you needed to say” Mia slipped out the door making sure to slam it, the girls in the locker room heard the door slam followed by something clattering. Alexia had kicked a chair. Mia appeared in view walking straight through the locker room.

“Mia” Keira spoke getting to her feet

“I’m fine” Simply stated before heading out to the gym for today’s recovery session. It was Keira and Ingrid that went after her.

Alexia was noticeably missing for some time, she arrived finally her eyes scanning to see where Mia was. She was tucked in the corner on the treadmill, Pere talking to her, she didn’t say a word however. She was just nodding, she got a little smile towards the end.

Alexia plonked herself down between Mapi and Patri to began stretching, “I need your help” she directed at Patri, “I” Alexia looked to Patri and to Patri, her friend looked anguished. “I don’t know what to do, I keep making it worse.” The pain in Alexia’s face and voice was evident, the spaniard clearly torn apart about the way her friendship or lack there of with Mia was going.

“What happened?”

“I pulled her into the office, she wouldn’t sit down” Alexia looked like she was almost going to have a panic attack recounting the story.

“You shoved her into a door?” Patri asked

Alexia’s head dropped, “She’s never going to forgive me”

Patri put her hands on the captain’s neck yanking her to kiss her temple, “You need to speak to her, she’s just a person Ale why do you find it so hard to just speak to her”

Alexia shrugged, she knew she’d finally figured it out, but she would never get the opportunity to explain to Mia she doubted now.

+

Alexia sat nervously in the restaurant waiting on an arrival, Patri told her to be here and she’d get Mia here. Alexia looked at the time and she should have been here by now, maybe she’d arrived seen it wasn’t in-fact Patri she was meeting and just left.

Her head rose and she froze much like Mia had, their eyes locked over the restaurant, Mia instantly knew. Her dinner date wasn’t Patri. It was Alexia all along. She did think it was odd the restaurant choice Patri had suggested but it became clearer. A waiter approached Mia as Alexia rose to her feet, she told him with a smile she was meeting a friend and she’d seen her. That smile quickly dropped however as she began closing the distance to the table way at the back Alexia stood awkwardly.

“Buenas Noches” Alexia said softly watching as Mia took her seat, she lowering herself back down. She hoped they could work this out.

Mia placed her bag on the floor took off her jacket and poured herself a glass of water, Alexia felt it was a good start she’d at least stayed. It was a good sign.

“Don’t blame Patri”

Mia sipped her water finally looking at Alexia, “Who else am i to blame?”

Alexia shrugged, “Me i guess, I asked her to get you here so we could talk” Mia simply nodded as her glass was lowered back to the table

“Talk then” Mias attitude wasn’t helping Alexia’s sweaty palms but she knew it was justified. She had to ignore it. She needed to start the ball rolling tonight in making this amends with Mia.

“I don’t know how to speak to you” Alexia just started if she over thought what she was going to say or how to say it, it wouldn’t come out, “And I know it sounds stupid because we’ve had conversations but” Alexia stuttered slightly, “I feel like.. you are the only person that’s ever come here that when you look at me you aren’t looking at Alexia Putellas, you’re looking at.. me” Mia lowered her gaze, “I’m not used to that, and it makes me feel vulnerable around you. I don’t let myself be vulnerable around many people especially people i’ve just met. It scares me. And. I don’t know why but my natural reaction is to just be mean to you and i don’t know why. And i hate myself for it, i really wish i wouldn’t do that”

Mia rose her eyes back to Alexia’s as they were interrupted, Alexia ordered the wine she knew Mia liked when asked about food Alexia checked Mia knew what she wanted and they ordered. Mia sat back looking around the restaurant she’d never been here before, she looked back to Alexia. “Me to”

Alexia swallowed, “I’m sorry”

Mia softened almost instantly, she didn’t speak as the waiter brought over their wine and poured them each a glass, Mia gladly sipped hers needing the courage. She watched as Alexia looked past her out into the restaurant, Mia didn’t know how it got to this and maybe her avoiding Alexia only proved to deepen the tensions. “I don’t actually think your a dick by the way” Alexia moved her eyes to Mia, “Maybe a little bit but id had quite a bit to drink and i was out of order, i shouldn’t of spoken to you like that ever let alone in-front of the team”

Alexia let herself curl her lips ever so slightly, “I don’t even know what you mean by dick”

Mia lowered her head as she smiled, “In England we use it as an insult or to describe someone who’s being not very nice or aren’t nice, it’s a harsher way of saying jerk basically”

Alexia lifted her chin briefly now understanding, “Well as you say, I was being, a dick” Mia laughed, “What’s funny?”

“Just your accent when you speak English” Alexia tilted her head, “It’s cute” Alexia blushed, this was going better than Alexia thought it would be, even if Mias laugh was at her expense. Mia silently tore off some bread as she chewed she felt maybe she owed it to Alexia to tell her the truth. “You know when you asked me what Olga wanted”

“That was none of my business i shouldn’t of asked”

“It sort of is your business” Alexia’s face pulled in confusion, “As Captain… she wants me at Madrid”

“What?”

Mia shrugged, “She said if i say the word Toril would put an offer in in the January window”

“You want to go?” Mia simply shook her head eating some more bread, “Did you say that?”

Mia nodded, “Despite it appears it’s your life’s mission to make me hate it here, I like it, i enjoy the football”

“I am sorry”

Mia nodded finally making eye contact, “I know. But, we’ve been here before”

Alexia knew her apology was appreciated but she also knew her actions from here on out would speak louder. She needed to not let herself try to push Mia away just because she was infatuated with her in a way she never had with someone before. Mia was different. She knew that. She knew she’d be punching to even attempt to pursue Mia but the way she’d been behaving, it was never going to happen.

Patri had told Alexia Mia thought she was attractive. It gave Alexia hope.

“You do realise your now down a midfielder” Alexia rose her head from dipping her bread, “I’m going to kill Patri”

Alexia smiled, “I made her do it”

Mia hummed, “Bet the capitana line came out” Mia rose her eyes, “Am i really that scary to you that you couldn’t just speak to me”

Alexia shook her head, “You make me nervous”

Mias forehead wrinkled in response, “Why?”

Alexia shrugged, “Everyone else always seems to be so impressed by Alexia Putellas, you don’t” I feel not good enough is what Alexia missed off the end of her sentence.

“I am impressed by you, of course i am all you’ve achieved and what you can do. But i understand there’s a person behind all that, one that deserves just as much acknowledgment. I want to know you Alexia, not ‘Alexia Puetellas’ even though she is pretty cool” Alexia rose her eyes, “If that makes you nervous i’m sorry but you’re going to have to get over it, because clearly just not speaking isn’t something you want either”

Alexia laughed softly, “Why do i feel like i got you here to sort things and you ended up being the one to fix it”

“Because i’m just that amazing” Mia smiled sitting back sipping her wine, “Plus i need you on my side when I punch Patri tomorrow”

“I’ll hold her if you want” Alexia joked making Mia’s smile even bigger, “Although.. seems it was worth it”

Mia nodded as she spotted there food coming over, “Seems it”

Mia let Alexia come back to her grandparents in the taxi they stayed in the restaurant just talking for hours, Mia’s cheeks hurt from the smile Alexia kept on her face all evening, she was funny. Unintentionally witty and incredibly charming. If Mia wasn’t mistaken she could have sworn at one point they were gently flirting with each other, the ride to her grandparents home was held in a comfortable silence.

Mia unlocked the door and flicked on a light as she walked into the bungalow dropping her bag and keys on the table to her right she had breakfast at every morning, Alexia dipped her head as she followed her inside, closing the door behind herself. She took in her environment she smiled, it screamed grandparents, family pictures scattered around the space, “I’ll be back, make yourself comfy if you want”

Alexia simply nodded as Mia disappeared off into a room off the kitchen, she let her eyes scan around, her lips tugged seeing Mia’s picture the club took in her kit on her first day, framed on the mantel piece one side. Alexia let her feet carry herself to the opposite side, she scanned the family picture, she instantly spotted Mia big smile on her face flanked by Alexia knew were her parents she was the perfect mix of both. Alexia carried on wandering, looking at more pictures of the grandchildren, nearly all Mia’s pictures were football related, she either had on a football shirt, or a football was visible in the picture.

Alexia rose her eyes as Mia reappeared opening the fridge, “You were a cute kid” Alexia commented, Mia smiled as she got two bottles of water out of the fridge, closing the door coming towards her holding one to her.

“Thanks” she tittered at the comment

“Why is that funny?” Mia just shrugged, opening her water, “And you say I’m weird”

“No.. I say you’re awkward” Mia swigged some of the water, “You want to go sit by the pool?”

“You have a pool?” Alexia asked, Mia started walking backwards

“Follow me La Reina” Mia turned, she got to a door soon enough opening it to a rather large back garden considering the quaint size of the bungalow. Alexia shut the door behind her self as she saw Mia was already lowering her self to sit on the edge of the pool her feet dipping into the water. Mia spoke as Alexia silently joined her, “I like to sit here” she pointed up, “You get a real good view of the stars” Alexia watched Mia as she stared up at the sky clearly mesmerised, “You never saw this many stars in London” There was a subtle curve of Mia’s lips as she kept her gaze on the night sky, unaware how Alexia was admiring her taking in every inch of her, relishing in the interrupt view “My dad loved space, he was always so intrigued by it, he’d sit for hours at his telescope just looking. He never really liked football, but that was the thing we could talk about, instead of watching a game together we’d go look at the stars together” Mia laughed gently to herself at the memory, “Mum would hate how many space documentaries we’d watch, one Sunday he promised it would be finished before Barcelona played, it didn’t. She missed the first half, she was so angry she refused to cook dinner.” Mia swallowed as she seemed to catch herself, she glanced seeing Alexia watching her and lowered her gaze, “Anyway, you didn’t come here to listen to me witter on about space”

“I like listening to you.. it’s cute when you speak English” Alexia smiled proudly when Mia rolled her eyes shaking her head

“I’ll push you in the pool”

“You wouldn’t dare”

Mia looked to Alexia a playful glint in her eye, “You clearly don’t know me very well”

“You’d actually push me in the pool”

Mia smiled as the water bottle came to her lips humming as she nodded before taking a sip.

“When you think you know someone” Alexia jokingly shook her head, before she knew it. She was in the pool, Mia on the side laughing at her as she popped back up.

Mia was laughing it soon faded when she saw Alexia’s face, “No, don’t even think about it” Mia pointed at her, “Alexia” Mia couldn’t help but laugh when Alexia took hold of an ankle. “I’m sorry”

“Oh well” Alexia took her hand and pulled her in to.

Alexia was laughing when Mia appeared back through the top of the water, it was a beautiful sound Mia could listen to it forever. It faded when they realised just how close they were floating. Mia’s favourite thing about Alexia was quickly becoming her eyes, her dark brown eyes that always seemed to draw her in. Even when Alexia had nothing nice to say they were the softest part of her. They’d change colour in the sun and become brighter, they’d glint when she was feeling cheeky. 

Mia got goosebumps when Alexia’s arm slipped around her waist gently gripping her waist as she helped hold her up, it was an excuse to be closer in truth. Mia slipped her arms around her neck and they held each other silently for what felt like an eternity. But it still felt not long enough when Mia felt Alexia start to pull away, she smiled feeling her peck her check. Mia let her arms fall her hands resting on Alexia’s strong shoulders instead she spotted Alexia swallow a nervous lump in her throat. Mia whispered when Alexia’s eyes trained to her lips, “What you waiting for?” Alexia’s eyes shot back to Mia’s own, “Mapi isn’t coming”

Alexia let a simple breath push out in amusement, a warm feeling washed through Mia as Alexia came closer, it felt like fireworks going off inside her as her face leaned in closer. Their lips brushed together, tentatively. It was brief, sweet, innocent and she expected nothing less from the awkward Alexia. She’d felt Alexia’s shoulders relax under her fingertips the second their lips brushed, Alexia had been imagining this moment since the day they met. The way Mia’s lips would feel against their own, how her body would feel against the brits. It was everything and more than she imagined.

Alexia cleared her rambling thoughts her lips still painfully close to Mia’s that one simple kiss wasn’t enough. Her heart raced as she reconnected there lips, Mias body setting on fire as there lips moved in perfect synchronicity body’s pushing together as her back gently touched against the wall of the pool. The cold forcing her chest forward in an attempt to relieve the sting of the cold. She let her hands come to Alexia’s jawline when Alexia used one hand to hold her self up the other still around Mia. It may of been a slow kiss but it certainly was intense.

Mia licked her lips when they parted, both their breathing was unsteady and fast, they didn’t speak neither wanting to pop the bubble of bliss they were in. Alexia’s thumb was slowly moving up and down on her waist as there breathing was slowly becoming under control.

Mia spoke first, “Shall we um” she started when she saw Alexia’s jaw chatter very briefly, “Shall we get out, it’s a bit cold” Alexia nodded, she reluctantly removed her arm from around Mia and without her body against her own her jaw now had a mind of its own. The heat of Mia or between them no longer shielding just how cold this pool was.

Alexia hovered at the door, Mia looked back when she didn’t follow, “I’m dripping everywhere”

Mia smiled, “Your fine, it’s tiles it’ll dry” Mia kept going, she headed to the bathroom to grab them some towels. She smiled when she came back and Alexia still wasn’t inside. “Alexia you’re going to get sick just come inside” Mia put the towel around Alexia, “Please” Mia smiled when Alexia slipped by her into the home.

Mia showed Alexia her room, got her some dry clothes out and offered her the hairdryer she left her to it whilst she used her grandparents room to change out the wet clothes.

Alexia came out Mias room in a pair of her barcelona shorts and a plain grey jumper to see Mia already on the sofa the soft light of her phone lighting her face. She looked when she heard Alexia, “You, sticking around or do you want me to drive you home?”

“I’ll get a taxi”

“You’re not getting a taxi, you’ll either stay here or i take you home”

“Sorry, who’s captain?”

“My house” Mia rose to her feet with a smile, “My rules” Alexia got a smile like Mia hadn’t seen before, was this the Alexia everyone else got because if they did she was incredibly jealous. She was hot. “What you doing Putellas?”

“I’m not dragging you out it’s late”

“Ok” Mia glided by Alexia whose smile just got bigger, “No funny business though, i’m not that easy” Alexia laughed and as she turned Mia stood staring. “Why is that so funny?” Alexia shrugged, “You’ve been talking to Keira haven’t you?”

Mia got into bed moving over to the other side next to the wall, she tried to hide how amused she was with how awkward Alexia was being about the situation. It was just adorable. “I haven’t” Alexia lay flat on her back, stiff as a board, “Should i?”

“You could just ask me” Alexia turned her head to Mia and Mia was just honest, “I’ve had three relationships”

“Why did they end?”

“First one, just ran its course we were young, second, she moved to Germany for football so we ended that, Third that’s the one that Keira would say sent me spiral into ‘Fuck buddy era’ that we won’t count or get into”

Alexia turned onto her side, the casual conversation easing her into there wasn't an expectation, “Why?”

“She was 10 years older than me, based in America but it worked somehow. Til it didn’t when she asked me to marry her”

Alexia looked over Mia’s face, “Well the fact your not married tells me how that ended”

Mia smiled turning to her, “I said no, and that was that. Rather abrupt way to end something i was quite happy in but i was 24, i wasn’t ready for that and she obviously was being older.” Mia laughed softly to herself, “You know what they say to get over someone get under someone else, i sure did that” Mia looked away, “Don’t even know why I’m telling you that doesn’t paint me in a good way”

Alexia smiled softly, “Your just being honest, who am i to judge” Alexia took a breathe, “I’ve not dated in 5 years”

Mia looked to Alexia, “Not to ruin this moment but you not dating is a hate crime to all the gay women of Barcelona” Alexia thankfully smiled, “You get how hot you are right?” Alexia’s smile grew, “I’m being serious” Mia giggled, “Answer me”

“You think i’m hot?”

“I know Patri told you, that women can’t keep a secret unless it’s about who she’s sleeping with then she’s surprisingly quiet on the matter”

“Patri’s seeing someone” Mia’s eyes went a little wide, “Mia!”

“Buenas noches dulces sueños” Mia turned to face the wall smiling hearing Alexia laughing softly.

“I won’t say come on”

“No”

“Mia” Alexia reached forward and Mia squirmed under her touch, “Are you ticklish?”

“No”

Alexia laughed as she tickled Mia her body trying to get away but the wall blocking her route, Mia ended up on her back directly below Alexia’s gaze. “Tell me”

“No”

“Mia”

“Stop” Mia laughed grabbing at Alexia’s hand, she finally let Mia prize it off her but only because their fingers laced. “If you watch her, you’ll figure it out” Alexia furrowed her brows, “Watch her, all i’m saying”

The pair spoke some more before Mia was slowly falling asleep, she woke in the night and Alexia was wrapped around her. She smiled and let herself go back to sleep, in the comfort of Alexia’s strong arms.

+

It was match day as Mia entered the locker room Patri made a beeline for her, “Well?”

“Well what?” Mia looked up at her as she sat down

“What happened?” Patri looked awkward as Alexia entered the room.

“As if i’d tell you” Alexia took her spot beside her, “Liar”

Patri put both hands on either of Mia’s cheek, “I’ll find out, I always do”

“Big talk from someone with big secrets”

Patri narrowed her eyes and walked away, “I’m watching you”

“Enjoy the view my love” Mia pouted a kiss at her as she took her seat the other end of the locker room.

Mia felt nervous her and Alexia had been here before, today would be the day to see if they’d actually turned a corner or not.

Mia lowered her head as they started to hover to come out for the warm up, Alexia chose to stand beside her which she never did. “I’m serious” Alexia spoke hushed, “I want that pan cake recipe” Mia lifted her head and smiled, “They were good” Mia made Alexia pancakes in her Grandparents as Alexia sat patiently at the table watching her,

“I know, you had 5” Alexia couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as they jogged out for the warm up.

Alexia turned jogging backwards, “You promised you wouldn’t judge”

Mia mimicked the coach doing the warm ups, “No judgement just pointing it out”

+

Mia was starting today’s game, it was 20 minutes in and Barcelona were three nil up when she was pushing forward with the ball once again.

Mia was tackled and the whole stadium stood still. 

The thud was sickening the cry she let out sent chills down everyone’s spines. Alexia sprinted over to her, “Mia” she got onto her knees hand on her back, “Mia..”

“I think she’s broke my ankle”

Alexia moved when the medical team got to her, she walked away visibly worried, “Is she ok?” Keira asked

“She said she thinks she’s broke her ankle” Alexia said before moving back to hover worried for her, she couldn't just leave her side. She needed to be there for her.

Surely Mia’s season couldn’t be over just like that. It wasn’t fair. The team spent a long time with Mia before the signal was shown to sub her off and Alexia’s heart dropped seeing Mia’s face when she sat up. She looked devastated, players just knew when something was bad. It’s only a feeling players who’d gotten hurt know. It was the feeling they all dread.

When Mia was in the back she let her emotions out, hiding her face in her shirt as she cried this wasn’t suppose to be how it went, she’d had a dream start to life at Barcelona. It couldn’t all end like this. She heard a cheer go up, Barcelona were clearly fine without her scoring multiple more times. That fourth goal, Alexia scored.

She held up one finger on one hand and five on the other.

15 for Mia.

She had to be ok, she just had to be. There was no way around it.

[weathertheraine]

Pirate AU!! Thank you @stringofturtles for watching OFMD S1 with me and re-igniting my Pirate Emotions so I had the motivation to finish this. The first sketches have been sitting in my files for months so please forgive the fact that they look different skdfjh.

More fleshed out AU details under the cut !! :D

- The kids are a little older than canon - the third years in their early 20s - but the story still starts with the second and third years as an established crew who then pick up the first years and the coaches.

- Daichi as a Captain is of course very much like he is in canon. He works very hard to take care of his crew and takes on a huge responsibility for providing for them (as well as making sure they don’t die in idiotic ways). Suga is First Mate so it’s his job to make sure DAICHI is okay and not worrying himself to death. He also has a good handle on morale/the emotional state of the crew.

- Asahi is the first line of offence when dealing with other ships. He doesn’t like actually hurting people, but he’s good at breaking ranks and barrelling through defences to get hold of whatever Karasuno needs. He was ‘off the team’ and out of commission for a little while after he lost his hand (not seeing combat while he was in recovery, and needing to build up his courage again). Noya played a huge part in helping him back onto his feet, and has been kind of protective ever since.

- Noya’s job is to make sure the ship isn’t boarded, so he very rarely leaves it.

- Ennoshita and Kiyoko work together as navigators and managing the little money the crew has. Ennoshita is the only crew member in the beginning who can kind-of read (Kiyoko can only read a little), and they work a lot with maps and planning out journeys.

- Tanaka is great at intimidating opponents. His eyepatch is totally for show - he thinks it makes him look cooler and scarier. His parrot doesn’t often co-operate with him.

- Narita and Kinoshita take care of maintenance and supplies and making sure there isn’t gunpowder anywhere there shouldn’t be, as well as things like fraying rigging and rotting boards/canons secure and the like. Of course, things like that are everyone’s responsibility, but these two consider is theirs particularly. It’s thankless work but the boat would definitely have burned down by now if not for them.

- Enter the first years!

- Kageyama is a prodigy swordsman with a huge reputation as a lethal pirate, although most people who spread those rumours don’t realise he’s as young as he is. He was marooned by his previous crew for being a controlling Captain (who should never have been captain in the first place, having only his fighting talent as the real reason).

- Hinata recently ran away from home to “become a pirate” without much of an idea what that actually entailed, and ran into Kageyama without knowing his reputation. All he knew was that this guy was incredible fighter, and he demanded that he teach him to fight! He now won’t leave him alone.

- Tsukishima ran away as a very young child in an attempt to find Akiteru, whose sailing ship was attacked and lost at sea. He fell in with pirates along with Yamaguchi (who was picked up after surviving a shipwreck), and the pair ended up sticking together as they bounced from ship to ship, ready to run whenever it seemed like tensions were getting high. They (read: tsukki) are going to need to break this habit, if they’re going to be a real part of this new crew.

- Tsukishima and Yamaguchi can’t sleep if they’re not in the same hammock. Embarrassing. The reason Yamaguchi was so tiny as a little kid is that he didn’t get enough food. Tsukishima still tries to sneak him extra (and gets in trouble with Daichi).

- Tadashi ends up as a sharpshooter, one of the few kids who’s confident using a pistol

- Hinata and Kageyama spar together all the time. It’s GOING to end in a make-out the first time Hinata successfully beats him.

- Neither of them have noticed that Tanaka’s eyepatch switches sides.

- Yachi is picked up when the crew stop in a bar in her town. She’s a better-off girl, about to be talked into an politically advantageous marriage, and desperately wants to get out of her situation. “Running away with pirates” was admittedly pretty drastic, but anything sounds like a good idea when Hinata suggests it so sincerely!!

- Ukai is a washed up older pirate, without a crew. Takeda is a very unlucky literature teacher who just happened to be on a sea voyage. They both ended up taken as hostages by the same (meaner) pirate crew, who were then stolen by the Karasuno kids. Although, it’s kind of unclear at this point whether they’re actually prisoners… They’re being treated very nicely (especially Sensei) and are in danger of getting attached…

[trainwiz]

Mehrunes Dagon kind of gets the rawest deal of the daedric princes, and I feel bad for him.

Dagon's not just the god of destruction, he's the god of change, he's the god of revolution (of all kinds). He's the embodiment of one of the most fundamental forces in the universe, and he's in the most thankless business in existence.

When the ayleid slaves were being broken upon the wheel, it was Mehrunes Dagon who whispered to Alessia, who gave them the strength to shatter their chains. And what did they do after all was said and done? They made a new wheel, new chains, and thanked

When a wrong is righted, it's always Stendarr who gets thanked for the justice that was served. Never Dagon for giving the courage to speak out against that injustice.

When the mountain blows its top and spews ash that settles into the soil of Vvardenfell and the crops of the dunmer grow strong and bountiful, they thank the Tribunal for the harvest, and never for the volcano that made the land fertile.

He's been there since the start, since the first daedron ate the first aedron and gave forth light. But everyone's only ever thankful for the warmth of a fire, never the fire itself. He's behind every chance ever taken, every redemption and desire to do better.

No wonder he's so pissed all the time. Has anyone ever just told him "thank you"? I doubt it.

[maximoffwitch]

for the 1k celebration, could i please request from the smut list #126. "I'm sorry but, I don't think I can remain professional any longer." with natasha x fem(she/her) reader? 🥺

Keeping It Professional

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

warnings: 18+ !!! heavy sexual content, swearing, strap-on use (r receiving), fingering, reader has a praise kink, oral, mature content overall!!

word count: 2.7k

a/n: wow okay so this is like the smuttiest thing i have ever written i honestly don't know what i'm doing so pls be kind 🫣 also pls ignore the fact that this request is over a year old and from a celebration i never finished 😭 and as a reminder: this blog is 18+ !! (because this comes up in the story CEO is Chief Executive Officer and CFO is Chief Financial Officer :))

“You wanted to see, Ms. Romanoff?” You entered the large corner office, gently closing the door behind you.

“Yes, (Y/N),” the redhead didn’t even look up at you, her eyes still glued to whatever important documents she was reviewing. Natasha Romanoff was one of the most powerful CEOs in the city, if not the world, starting her own consulting firm at just 23. By the time she was twenty-eight, Widow Enterprises was the most successful firm in the entire country, making Natasha the first female executive and the youngest to lead an industry.

Oh, and she was also your boss. Working as Natasha Romanoff’s personal assistant was often a thankless job. The long hours and tedious tasks left little room for a social life, and your boss’s stoic perfectionism did little to ease your days.

“Please sit.” Natasha motioned to the two chairs in front of her desk, finally looking up and setting down her pen.

You obliged, taking a seat across from her. 

“Do you know why I called you into my office, (Y/N)?” The redhead leaned back into her chair, as she carefully observed you.

You frowned, quickly racking your brain for any reason why your boss could want to talk to you so out of the blue and, apparently, in such a serious manner.

“Did you want to discuss the upcoming board meeting?” You subconsciously crossed your legs and adjusted your slacks, a nervous habit you picked up in said board meetings—being one of two women in a room of men is nerve-racking, to say the least. “I prepared all the notes and slide decks, but did you want me to forward them to you to review?”

Natasha had stopped double-checking your work about six months into your tenure there, as you had proven yourself more than competent. But you would understand her hesitancy, seeing as this meeting was with corporate executives who, if you had to guess, possessed the majority of the world’s wealth.

“No, no,” Natasha nonchalantly waved her hand, “I trust you have that all under control.”

You let out a small sigh of relief before knitting your brows. “I’m sorry, Ms. Romanoff, but then I can’t say I know why I am here.”

Natasha hummed as she stood up from the chair and made her way around the desk.

“I have a problem,” she revealed, as she sat on the edge of the desk and crossed her arms before lowering her voice, “with you.”

You nearly choked on your breath, your own anxiety choking you. 

Seeing you were at a loss for words, Natasha continued, “Now don’t get me wrong, your work speaks for itself. I have no issues with the way you do your job. In fact, you are the best personal assistant I have ever had.”

Your eyes widened at Natasha’s rare compliment. 

“Then what,” you cleared your throat in an attempt to rid the nerves from your voice, “what is the issue?”

“The issue is.” Natasha pushed herself off the desk and circled you as if you were her prey. When she hovered behind you, she bent down and whispered, “I don’t think I can remain professional any longer.”

You remained frozen, clenching your thighs together, as the feeling of your boss’s warm breath against your ear caused a tightness to coil in your lower abdomen.

Natasha smirked at your body’s reaction, before gently running her fingertips across your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their path.

“Tell me you don’t want this.” She brushed a loose strand of hair from your neck, exposing more of your skin. “Tell me, and I’ll stop.”

You should yell that this was outrageously inappropriate, that you really shouldn’t be doing this in the middle of the work day, that this violated every single one of HR’s rules.

But you didn’t; you couldn’t. As much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you wanted her.

Craning your neck, you turned your head to meet Natasha’s salacious gaze and nodded.

Natasha raised her brow, amused. “Use your words, doll.”

“I want you,” you husked.

“Oh, I know you do.” She gave you a smug grin, firmly cupping your chin while running her thumb over your bottom lip. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you stare at me during meetings or the way you flaunt yourself around my office in those tight pant suits.

“Are you that desperate for attention, little one?”

“Only yours,” you panted, need bleeding through your voice.

“Good.” Natasha clicked her tongue, pleased by your answer, before guiding you to stand. “Now turn around.”

You obeyed and turned your back to her, gasping when Natasha gripped your hips and pushed you against the desk, her front pressed against you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” she growled as she pulled your hair, causing you to arch against her. 

“Every time I see you and your wide doe eyes, so eager to please, so eager to be fucked,” Natasha nipped your neck, and you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your mouth. At that moment, the redhead could not be more grateful for the soundproof walls of her office, “I want to bend you over my desk and give you what you want.”

"Yes, please,” you groaned, grinding your hips against her front, liquid arousal pooling in your stomach as you felt a bulge in Natasha’s slacks.

“Please what?” She kissed the corner of your mouth, as she nimbly worked her fingers to unbutton your pants, slowly sliding the waistband down.

“Fuck me,” you begged, “please.”

“So needy,” Natasha shoved her hand down the front of your black-laced panties, where she was instantly met with a desperate wetness.

“You are so wet, princess,” she teased, her fingers circling your clit slowly, “and I’ve barely even touched you.”

Before you could plead for more, Natasha plunged two digits into your heat, stifling your moan with a searing kiss.

Your tongues languidly danced together, fighting for dominance. Natasha quickly won that battle, simultaneously biting your bottom lip and curling her fingers deeper into your core.

“God, fuck,” you moaned as she pushed you down onto the desk so you were completely bent over at her will, your pants pooling at your ankles.

“Natasha is fine.” You could practically hear her smirk, but you were too far gone to say anything. All you could do was clench your walls around her fingers, silently asking for more.

Natasha added another finger as the heel of her palm rubbed your clit. You could feel yourself approaching the edge, and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold on.

“Be a good girl.” She leaned down and kissed the shell of your ear. “And come for me.”

“Natasha!” you cried out as you let the waves of pleasure crash over your body. Natasha kept her fingers in you, slowly pumping them in and out, as she gradually brought you down from your high.

As she finally slipped out of you, you whined at the loss. Natasha wrapped her arm around your chest, pulling you up and back against her.

“Taste.” She stuck her glistening fingers before your mouth, and you obeyed. Wrapping your lips around her digits, you stared directly into her eyes and swirled your tongue to taste your own pleasure.

Natasha’s eyes darkened at the action as you released her fingers from your mouth with a pop.

“You’re such an obedient assistant, aren’t you?” Natasha hummed, tucking a loose hair behind your ear. “I bet you’d do anything I asked, hm?”

“Yes,” you breathed, your shame long gone, as you submitted yourself completely to the other woman.

“Good.” She kissed the corner of your mouth before taking your hand in hers. “Now, come suck my strap.”

You stepped out of your pants, goosebumps rising up your legs as you were left only in your underwear and half-buttoned silk blouse. 

As Natasha sat down in her chair, she pulled her own slacks down her thighs, revealing a decently sized strap-on, and your mouth watered at the sight. You lustfully eyed Natasha, who scooted her hips to the edge of the seat.

“Get on your knees for me, pretty girl,” the redhead directed as she worked to unbutton her shirt.

You sank to your knees in between Natasha’s legs, ignoring the harsh vinyl floor beneath you. Softly rubbing your hands up her thighs, you stared up at her and took the tip of the plastic cock in your mouth.

Natasha watched you with an intense gaze, her eyes unable to leave the sight of her strap-on slowly disappearing deep into your throat. As you bobbed your head up and down, coating the dildo with spit, Natasha groaned, throwing her head back. 

“You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” She took a fistful of your hair in her hand, controlling your pace. “I bet your pussy is just aching to be filled by my strap.”

You wantonly moaned and increased the pace of your movements, causing Natasha to hiss, as the strap-on rubbed against her clit.

Natasha tightened her grasp on your hair and tugged at your scalp, sending a shock of pleasure through your body at the brief moment of pain.

“Are you gonna let me fuck your mouth, princess?” She looked down at you, waiting for your eyes to meet hers. Nodding slightly, you widened your mouth and relaxed your throat.

“Good girl,” Natasha cooed, as she brought her other hand to gently caress your cheek before firmly taking hold of the back of your head.

Natasha bucked her hips, hungrily chasing her own release. The squelching sound of the dildo plunging into your throat echoed around the office, as your eyes began to water. 

“So good,” Natasha threw her head back, still rutting into your mouth. “So close.”

Feeling herself right at the peak, she thrust her hips up and pushed your head down, causing you to choke and lose your breath momentarily.

“Fuck!” she cried, her body stilling as her orgasm washed over her. Gasping, you released the strap from your mouth. You looked up at Natasha, who was also catching her breath. 

“Come here.” Natasha softly hooked her finger under you chin. You stood from your kneeling position and moved in between her legs, leaning forward to meet her awaiting lips. 

This time, Natasha kissed you with less urgency and more passion, as if she had all the time in the world.

“You did so well, milaya,” she cooed, the praise along with the Russian term causing your walls to clench around nothing. Natasha grinned, as she saw your thighs involuntarily clench together. “You want to ride me?”

Though she posed it as a question, you could tell there was little room for debate. 

Nodding, you bit your lip and shrugged your shirt off your shoulders. You kept eye contact with Natasha as you slowly shimmied out of your ruined underwear.

The redhead followed your every move with blatant desire, gulping when she watched a string of wetness cling to the fabric as it fell down your legs.

Bracing yourself on the back of the chair, you straddled Natasha’s lap, hovering over the dildo.

“You are so perfect.” She kissed your exposed cleavage, biting your skin before soothing it with her tongue. “So perfect and so ready to be fucked.”

“Yes, Natasha,” you rested your forehead against hers as she teased your entrance with the strap-on, “please fuck me, take me, make me yours.”

“You’re mine,” Natasha growled, pulling your bottom lip between her teeth as she pushed the tip into your heat.

“Yours,” you sank down, the toy stretching your walls perfectly, and the two of you moaned in unison. Neither of you moved, allowing you to adjust to the size.

Slowly, you started to move, pulling another cacophony of sounds from the woman beneath you.

“Faster, (Y/N),” Natasha gritted through her teeth as she gripped your hips. “Ride my cock.”

You followed her commands and bounced up and down on her strap. Natasha eagerly bucked her hips up, matching your rhythm.

“Fuck, Nat,” your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as Natasha reached around you to unclasp your bra, allowing your breasts to bounce freely. 

“That’s right.” She pinched your nipples between her fingers, causing you to let out to a guttural moan. “You’re such a good girl, riding me like the slut you are.”

“Nat,” you pleaded, feeling the coil tightening in your abdomen. 

“Are you close, princess?” 

You nodded with a whimper, grinding your hips down onto Natasha’s.

“Chase your pleasure,” she whispered, as she brought your forehead to meet hers.

You stared deeply into her eyes as you relentlessly rode the toy. 

“I’m gonna come, Natasha,” you gasped, your breath hot against her lips.

“Not yet, darling,” she commanded, causing you to pout. Natasha slipped her hand between your bodies, her fingers ghosting over your clit. “I want us to come together.”

You let out a whine, your pace even more frantic than before, as Natasha began to rub tight circles against your bud.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” she grunted, her thrusts becoming sloppy. Pinching your clit, Natasha surged forward to kiss you, before mumbling against your lips, “Come with me, my good girl.”

You both cried out, pleasure overtaking your bodies at the same time. Melting into her embrace, you rested your head against her shoulder. The two of you basked in the post-coital silence, the toy still buried deep inside of you.

Remembering where you were, you lifted your head and tenderly smoothed Natasha’s disheveled hair. 

“How was that?” You gave her an amused smirk.

“Perfect.” She grinned blissfully. “You were absolutely perfect.”

“Better than you imagined?"

“So much better, my love.” Natasha gently kissed you, her way of thanking you for fulfilling her fantasy. Though she knew you got just as much pleasure out of it as she did.

“Good,” you separated, pecking her lips once more before demounting from her lap. 

“Where are you going?” she whined, removing the harness and tossing it aside as she watched you gather your clothes.

“James’s soccer practice is ending in twenty minutes, and I told him I would pick him up.” You fastened the buttons on your blouse before walking around the desk to where your pants were.

“Don’t we have a sitter for that?” Natasha joked, though you could tell she was still disappointed by your departure.

“We do.” You used the desk to balance yourself, as you slipped on your heels. “But I gave Kate the day off because I promised James I’d pick him up.”

“Fine,” Natasha stood up, pulling her own pants back up and buttoning up her shirt as she walked over to wrap her arms around your waist, “but I had other plans for us.”

You rolled your eyes fondly, straightening out her collar. “I was serious earlier about sending that slide deck over to you to review, if you want.”

“And I was also being serious earlier,” Natasha shot you a knowing wink, “I trust you have that all under control.”

“Good, because I do,” you smirked confidently.

“Best. CFO. Ever.” She emphasized each word with a kiss.

You preened at the praise, a slight blush tainting your cheeks. “Well, now I have to go be the best mom ever. Seriously, love, I have to go.”

“Alright,” Natasha relented, letting her hands fall from your hips.

“Don’t worry, we’ll finish what we started later,” you whispered, pecking the corner of her lips, as you slipped something in Natasha’s breast pocket. “I’ll see you at home, love.”

“Counting on it.”

You lightly patted her chest and winked, before making your way out of the office, making sure to close the door behind you.

After you left, Natasha cleaned up, ridding any evidence of your activities and reorganizing her desk. As she prepares to resume her work, powering on her desktop, Natasha feels something in her breast pocket.

Reaching into her pocket to retrieve whatever you put there earlier, she grinned at what she pulled out.

“Little minx,” Natasha chuckled, fiddling with your lacy black thong in her hand before tucking it back in her pocket.

Best. Wife. Ever.

[barbwritesstuff]

This might turn into an essay because I truly could write an essay about this, but I was replaying Blood Moon for the infinite+1 time and the decision to make Alek's job be a janitor has SO much to it that I love and adore, the contrast of him being the highest status and most respected member but also never really enforcing that (e.g. letting Sergi call him by his name instead of Alpha) showing that he's a practical leader - a leader who is there because he takes care of people rather than being in the position for power or vanity, and then him taking a job that is low status and a thankless and often unpleasant job, but one which is extremely important to the community, a community that would likely not recognise what an important role he's playing in their wellbeing and how that can also play as a metaphor for the wider theme of the role werewolves play in the city over the course of the storyyy <3 <3 <3 idek how much of if was intentional because there's SO much but at its core it speaks to the fact that you truly GET the genre

I really wanted my werewolves to feel like people. They're not monsters, they're janitors, wait staff, and post workers. They're parents, cousins, uncles, and grandmas.

Normal, working class, people. The sort that would move into a low income area of the city, enrol their kids in school, and pick up odd jobs to make ends meet.

I also just really liked the idea of the alpha being this kind, nice janitor guy. Like, he's cool. He's the guy you see catching the bus late at night. He'll share his sandwich with you if you're hungry, knows some corny jokes, and has his kids' photos in his wallet.

And he's the alpha of the local werewolf pack, not that you'd ever know that.

Also, perhaps more thematically, making the werewolves so human and so normal really meant I could ham up the vampires. I leant more into the horror with them, made them more alien.

I like werewolves and vampires as thematic opposites. They're each other's narrative foil. And so, by making the werewolves regular people who seem like scary monsters, it makes sense to make vampires scary monsters who seem like regular people.

The werewolves are the big, loud family that moved in next door. The vampires are the powers that be, the rich, the powerful, the established of the city, and they're much more dangerous than the newcomers could ever be.

Of course, Erin May is the exception. The young vampire that's there to show vampires don't start out monstrous, they were once normal people too. It's time and hunger that warps them.

[spencer-is-someone]

What really made Yor and Twilight's dispositions so different?

So, I think it's pretty plain to see that Loid and Yor are meant to be mirrors of each other in a way. They both carry out dangerous, deadly jobs, both of which they took up at a young age after the loss of their parents. While one could argue they are fundamentally different, I'd say where they differ most is in their dispositions, how they see the world, and how it all really traces back to their childhoods.

I think the most glaring difference between their childhoods is that Yor had Yuri, and Twilight had no one. Yor had a tangible thing to fight for, to protect, while Twilight had nothing but hatred for years. His reasons for joining the army were to avenge the deaths of everyone he loved, at least, that's what he convinces himself is true. I don't think Twilight, or [REDACTED] was ever truly a hateful person. He was a misguided child swayed by propaganda, and any attempt to undo the propaganda was...not the best. While it's not very obvious in the text, it's possible that [REDACTED]'s relationship with his father was tumultuous at best, but i don't think it was ever downright abusive. Though, it is obvious that his parents had a strained marriage, and that clearly had an effect on him and his relationship with his father's more anti-war views.

But Yor? I doubt Yor ever had a hateful bone in her body. Even when she kills, she makes it quick, as painless as possible. She shows as much kindness as she can, and I think that's due to a more 'tangible' reason to keep going. Yuri is a thing she can see, something she knows she has to continue to protect, otherwise there will be immediate and direct consequences.

When I say tangible, I am trying to illustrate the difference between her goals, and Twilight's goals. It's solidified for him when he's on the train platform, ready to step into his new life. He says he doesn't care about anything, that he'd not doing it for a reason. But he does have a reason, a far less tangible one that he can't exactly hold or feel or conceptualize. He wants a world where children don't have to cry. It seems nearly impossible, and I think he knows this. But it's what's kept him going for 10+ years as a spy, and the evidence is all around him. But it doesn't affect him directly, because he is no longer a child. It isn't until he has Anya that his own actions will really start to have more meaning to him, even more so than before.

Twilight and Yor have been fighting for the same thing all along, though, while his motivations are more broad and global, her's are closer to home. And I think that's why Yor is a more optimistic person, she has evidence that what she's been doing is worth something. But Twilight hasn't had that. And that's why I can't wait to see where his character goes; he has a tangible reason to fight.

TL;DR The reason Yor seems happier is because she has had a more obvious 'reward' of her tireless work, while Twilight has been living a thankless life.

[leth-writes]

Request heeded (yandere homelander x reader)

SUMMARY: You, Ashley’s omega assistant, have gotten a mating request.

(PART 1)

WARNINGS: 18+ as always on my blog, though the work is safe for work. Typical yandere shenanigans.

NOTE: So this work is very heavily inspired by Kept Omega by The FireCrest over on AO3, please head over and give it a read!

MASTERLIST 

Requests are open!

Being Ashley’s assistant was one of the most stressful things to ever happen to you. The beta was always moving, always angry, always yelling, and yet you were expected to remain cool and collected by her side. She was frustrating, and she drove you insane, but she was the most normal person you’d ever met at Vought, where you’d worked for almost a year.

Today, she was stressing about the newly revealed arrivals’ social media. It was her job, and by extension yours, to ensure everyone had impeccable public reputations. It was hard, thankless work, and yet it was necessary to keep yourself safe from being fired. You’d been tasked with researching Sage’s, Firecracker’s, and the Deep’s current reputations; neutral, bad, and terrible, respectively. Of course, when you presented your findings to Ashley, she’d screamed in frustration and ripped out her hair, before grabbing the files and storming out. You’d run out after her, doing your best to keep pace, though it was hard keeping up with the fast-moving beta.

The ride up to the 99th floor was the most awkward you’d ever had, even worse than after Starlight had quit. Ashley was silently fuming next to you; you were lucky she was a beta, or you were sure she’d flood the elevator with her acidic, sour scent. As it was, you could only see and hear her anger, not smell it. Your own scent, luckily, was held back by your scent patches. While everyone knew you were an omega, you wore scent patches to minimize risk. You wouldn’t take any chances, not with the Deep in the building.

Finally, the elevator opened, and Ashley stormed out. You followed, scurrying after her and keeping your head down. You were glad you’d chosen to wear a turtleneck that day, keeping your neck obscured and preventing the chill from creeping down your spine. You’d never been to the top floor before; it was freezing, like they’d left a window perpetually open. The halls were ornate, filled with posters and memorabilia immortalizing the various members, past and present, of the seven. Starlight was not present; you’d miss the alpha, she was kind, and her beta, Hughie, had a heart of gold. They felt like the only other sane people in the whole company, and yet you were stuck, unable to contact them if you wanted to keep your head and your job.

Ashley rounded the corner and pushed the doors to the conference room open, taking a brief moment to smooth down her shirt and calm her expression, before she entered. You followed after her, though you were sure you were not as composed as she surely looked.

The members of the Seven were already present, all sat except for Homelander, who stood with his back to you, facing out towards the windows. Ashley strode over to the makeshift desk in the corner, placing your report down; you moved to stand slightly behind her, lowering your head in respect. You could feel the tension ratcheting up in the room.

“We need to talk.” She began, voice confident and sure. You could feel Homelander turn around, cutting through the thick tension in the room and striding over to the horseshoe-shaped table. You could hear the featherlight brush of his gloves against the lacquered surface.

“Then talk.” Sage said, her arms crossed. Something about Sage freaked you out; maybe it was the way she always seemed three steps ahead? It was horrifying, like she knew you better than you knew yourself. You looked up, unwilling to keep yourself vulnerable in a room full of the most dangerous people in the world; Starlight had impressed upon you the need to never seem too anxious, for fear of them discovering your friendship, even if you hadn’t seen the blond in months. Besides, Sage was dangerous; she was the first and only beta to ever join the ranks of the Seven, which she’d only achieved through subtle machinations and manipulation. Normally, the shareholders would’ve never allowed a beta, they only wanted alphas in case of ‘danger’, but Sage had been so thoroughly convincing, so slick and clean, they’d had no choice. It hadn’t helped that she’d apparently blackmailed one of the shareholders with the knowledge that she knew of the secret omega daughter he’d kept safely at home, prevented from being able to achieve her dreams of an education at GodU. It seemed even the shareholders didn’t trust their omegas around the supes, knowing their record.

“Woah, woah, what’s she even doing here? I don’t gotta listen to her again, do I?” The Deep complained, leaning back so far his chair squeaked in protest. Sage sighed, shaking her head, before she looked at the alpha. “She’s in charge of rehabilitating your image, so yes, you do.” She shook her head again, exasperated, and looked out the window. You could sense the irritation rolling off of her in waves; you had to suppress a chirp of empathy, which you knew would only expose you and place you in a vulnerable position. The less they were reminded of your status, the safer you were.

Your eyes flicked over to the Deep, who was staring at Sage in chagrin. His scent, mint and moss, so sharp it almost made your eyes water, permeated the room. Sage huffed, unaffected; she was nose-blind, though she seemed to make up for it through hard work and her natural talent at deduction. You had to hold back the impulse to cover your nose and wave away the smell.

“Well, Ashley?” Homelander said, voice deep and calm. He had his hands clasped behind his back, now. Was the hero training so deep that he struck the poses without even noticing? You couldn’t imagine how much work had gone into learning to keep that facade up, constantly. Sometimes, you wondered if it was even a facade, or if that was his true self peeking through a shield of anger.

“Y-yes, sir…” She straightened at the address, brushing her hair back and making sure the papers were perfectly stacked.

“W-well, Sage’s reputation is… fine. It’s neutral; most people don’t know what to think of her, especially as she doesn’t have much of a history in the public eye. Her status as a beta may cause controversy if it gets out; we should get her false scent patches, just in case.”

Sage nodded; she’d probably expected as such. She didn’t even bother looking at Ashley. Typical for a supe, ignoring those they viewed as below them. It was clear Ashley had limited use to Sage, though she was more useful than you. You don’t think Sage had so much as looked at you, even as you’d handed her reports prior, in your entire time working at Vought. To be fair, though, she hadn’t been at Vought for long.

Homelander, seeing Sage’s tacit approval, motioned for Ashley to continue on.

“Firecracker… Firecracker has a dedicated fanbase, but her reputation among the general public could be better…” Ashley hedged, looking uncomfortable. 

Sage sighed, though she continued to look out the window.

Firecracker looked displeased. “Well, with my new show, I’m sure I can manage to drum up some more support.” She crossed one leg over the other and flicked her curly red hair back.

Sage nodded. Ashley nodded. You guessed that was that. Ashley skipped through your proposals for Firecracker. You were slightly ruffled that your hard work had gone down the drain on that front, but at least you wouldn’t have to work with her too much, as she operated with her own team, assigned by Vought. You held back a scoff.

“Finally, the Deep…” Ashley trailed off. Homelander simply waved for her to continue. 

“The Deep… Everything with Starlight has social media divided; you have some hardcore fans who believe you’re innocent, especially after everything Alistair… On the other hand, Starlight’s fans despise you…”

“And what’re you gonna do about it?!” The Deep said, arms crossed as he leaned back. His scent leaked out, moss intensifying until you had to cover your nose; you turned to hide the gesture, unwilling to catch his eye, just in case. You had him convinced you were a beta.

Ashley glanced down at your list of suggestions nervously.

“Well, I think… I think we should continue playing up the trauma from the cult, drum up some more sympathy. Maybe we can play off the Starlight accusations as a pattern of deep-seated hatred for the supes, especially after Homelander’s recent win.”

You huffed quietly; Ashley had taken credit for your ideas, again!

Homelander’s eyes shot up to you, then widened. 

You felt ice crawl down your back. Shit. Shit! He wasn’t supposed to hear that, you’d forgotten for a moment that he had super hearing!

He looked into your eyes for a moment, face completely blank, before he turned to look back at Ashley.

The Deep nodded, not having noticed the brief interruption. No one but Homelander had, of course.

“Ah, that’s perfect! That fucking bitch, she ruined my fucking life, it’s only fair she be the one to fix it!” He crowed, looking happy. The scent of mint intensified. It was almost too strong, and it burned at your nose and your eyes.

Ashley’s eyes flicked to Sage, then to Homelander. Sage still hadn’t turned around, though she’d nodded once to show her support. Homelander was deep in contemplation. You couldn’t smell him; you were sure he was wearing scent patches, though all you could smell was leather. You’d never been able to smell him; maybe that added to the sense of unease you felt around him? Most of the alphas in the building refused to wear scent patches, sure that they would never encounter an omega and thus never need it, as betas were less sensitive and alphas wouldn’t react to other alphas, bar extreme emotions.

“Okay… Okay. That’ll work. You’re dismissed, Ashley.” Homelander said, though his blue eyes were locked on you. They were unnervingly blue, cruel; you’d never liked being around Homelander, though you’d been lucky to never have to interact directly.

Ashley swept out of the room. You took a moment to gather your report, Homelander’s eyes locked on your form, and hurried out after her, ducking out just as the doors swung shut.

She was waiting for you in the hall, tapping her foot.

“Well?” She said, hand out for the report. You plopped it into her grasp, and she whipped around, hair splaying out behind her, before marching away. You scurried after her.

You hated being around Homelander and the rest of the Seven. They were creepy; while you didn’t know too much about Homelander, Ashley made sure to try to keep you out of the viscera and the mess due to your status, you had heard the rumours. They said he was scentless, alien, inhuman; god-like. You weren’t sure you believed them, he was still human, after all, but you knew something was off about him. You just couldn’t put a finger on what it was.

The two of you descended back down to Ashley’s office. The bustle of the normal employee-focused floors was comforting, the lack of supes present reassuring. The people down here could be mean, outright nasty if you were being honest about Firecracker’s crew, but they couldn’t hurt you in the same way the supes could. Most of the supes didn’t deign to set foot on the lower floors, viewing themselves as too far above the common ilk to grace you with their presence. Long gone were the comfortable lunches with Starlight and Hughie; now, you ate your lunch in the employee break-room. You were surrounded by people, and yet all alone. 

It was exhausting, trying to keep up the facade, deflect suspicions; most people had already forgotten your status, the only fact that kept you still employed. You knew, however, Ashley had chosen you for your discerning nose. You were able to pick up on the subtle changes that she often missed, she did have the dulled nose of a beta, after all, enabling you to assist her in the nonverbal communication she otherwise wouldn’t be privy to.

You were doing better than her other assistant, who’d been lasered in the head after ‘betraying’ Homelander by contacting the Starlight house, and who’d only been with her for a month before the ‘incident’. All you had to do was stay out of his way, and maybe you’d survive until he inevitably lost his shit and fired Ashley. You planned on retiring early, after all.

Now depressed at your current train of thought, you pulled out your phone, sending an email to Annie’s old account. It bounced back; you had been blocked. You sighed.

[sirsagrell]

The holidays have passed so it's time to yap critically about Veilguard some more.

So. I like to project themes and meanings on Dragon Age stories that weren't even necessarily intentionally put there by the writers. And how well Dragon Age used to lend itself to that favorite pastime of mine, was, I think, one of its main strengths.

Hear me out.

Dragon Age is a game, and a game is not a book. A Dragon Age narrative is not done being written until you the player play through it and fill in the blanks. And you don't just play a role, as in define the player character and make choices for them. Through the interplay between your character and the world, trough the influence you have on the world and the people in it, you pick out the themes and meanings that your very own Dragon Age narrative explores and expresses.

It used to be a damn fantasy writer simulator. No wonder it inspired so much creativity.

Some of it was intentional, and some, probably, not. Some, but far from all of it was due to the infamous Dragon Age Grey Morality(TM).

(Where that Grey Morality(TM) was executed well, and where not is a separate conversation, and that conversation has very much been had, extensively, over the past ten years. I'm not getting into that here.)

Most of this effect, however, relied on the simple fact that Dragon Age never presumed to tell you what the correct themes and meanings of a Dragon Age story were. (Yes, you could arrive at some really unfortunate themes and meanings with the story building blocks given to you, yes, I know. But you never had to.)

You were asked questions (Yes, some of them were stupid questions). But if you were in any way interested in thinking about the messy source material presented to you, you immediately arrived at questions even deeper than the writers ever intended to ask, and weren't some of them just fascinating.

Veilguard, I feel, almost stopped asking questions. Worse, when it does try to ask them, it tells you what the answers are supposed mean. Literally. In a tooltip (!) in the interface (!!). There's a correct way to read Dragon Age now, somehow.

I'd say the most egregious example of this shift is Rook's unquestionable heroism.

We, Dragon Age and I, used to ponder the meaning of being celebrated as the hero, regardless of what kind of person you really were. Or the futility of trying to be the hero when all the societal systems work against you. Or the terror of being the hero, when you're suddenly forced to become a whole societal system yourself. My Dragon Age protagonists had a really sad and shitty time being protagonists. 'Twas good for their souls.

Enter Veilguard and Rook.

You start the game and you're introduced to Rook, the game's hero. You are repeatedly reassured that you're the hero, and Were Chosen For Reason. You can attempt to express doubt about maybe having made the situation worse, and you're immediately assured by your companions that you shouldn't. "You got this Rook", the game repeatedly says. (It's thankless work, fixing the world, Solas shares, but Solas is from a different game and probably didn't get the memo.) Everyone is actually super thankful to Rook, even the people you left to be blighted, you're a universally good influence, after all, and you couldn't be two places at once, any reasonable person understands. You're doing your best. Don't you worry, your best will be enough.

Oh, and just in case you're still having doubts, Rook, all your antagonists are mindless and/or power-hungry fools, and, like, elfy Thanos. It is objectively correct to oppose them. By doing so you're not just saving people but helping the world move past the violence of the past and into a brighter safer future.

Honestly, I don't think I have ever played a game that went to such lengths to assure you you're the Good Guy here. I've never played Marvel games though, are they like that? Is this why…

This is getting too long. So I'll sum it up as best I can.

Veilguard isn't juvenile in meaning, not really. In tone, yes, in meaning, for the most part, no. It does tackle some heavy stuff. But Veilguard knows what exactly it means to say and it will beat you over the head with its message, until you know it too.

And that, to me, for a Dragon Age story, is just sad.

[edwardsissyhandsthtdanceslikeabb]

why exactly is geto such a good character?

(not compared to naoya but using naoya as an example lol. i have no opinion on naoya other than that hes apparently a misogynist but some ppl like him for some reason idk.)

geto is arguably jjk's best written character —which isnt an indictment of naoya but an anime only's premature opinion lol— and a testament to jjk's initial narrative strength. reducing geto's motives down to toji massively undermines the layers that catalyzed his breakdown, which ultimately, was loss and disempowerment leading him to break. it was him being unable to reconcile his moralistic outlook with the mechanistic nature of jujutsu society and the utter dehumanization it demanded of its sorcerers, it was his disdain for the self-sustaining nature of human vice and negativity and its perpetuation of their system of futile sacrifice and loss.

this disdain stems from the bleak reality of being surrounded by its grimiest depths, by the thanklessness of choosing platitudes and lofty ideals for those who spit in your face for it, who exploit you, objectify you. which is why amanai dying is what truly began his undoing, the personification of everything he believed to be worth fighting for snuffed unthinkingly by those he's told are too feeble to know better. its the malignance of pure ppl like haibara dying while evil endures, of the godless nature of being a sorcerer, and how its ungoverned and unphased by any morality or goodness or purity. and why it ended with him discovering the girls in the cage, the most innocent of society, who couldn't have possibly deserved it, who were persecuted for their nature, the actual people endangered for it. its him flipping the ontological framework jujutsu society operates on, questioning why they have to pay for humanity's vices and fallibility, why they cant fight back too, prioritize their own pitfalls, and thusly him giving gravitas to humanity's evil underbelly. while also recognizing the strength and brilliance of sorcerers and choosing to be selfish with this excellence, self-serving instead of self flagellatory, not leaving them to be fed to the beast of human weakness but instead unabashed in their talents and strength. bc at every turn he's told to temper himself, to fight for goodness, but is only ever met with cruelty, haunted by sorcerers' disenfranchisement looming over him.

contradictory to his newfound ideals, geto chooses family and love by vowing to sacrifice humanity instead, he reframes gojo and all those relegated cogs in the jujutsu machine to the ppl really worth fighting for, as precious enough to matter, to be sacrificed for. its why he forms a pseudo family while pursuing his plans, and why he embodies such a performative personality thereafter, bc ideals consume geto. he has to expunge himself of humanity and embody hatred bc that's whats contrary to his former ideals and disposition. that's what he thinks he has to be. but when the heart of his wants shine through, when he allows himself grace around those close to his heart, we see the core of who he is and always has been shine through (e.g at his death scene). geto sees vulnerability and sympathy as inherent to humanity and the things indenturing sorcerers to them, despite his fight for sorcerers being grounded in fighting for the weak, but he doesn't want to give into that human aspect to his motivations. he wants to determine his own future, beholden to no one. (e.g the reason he fights against kenjaku, and is given strength by gojo's words)

now naoya very well may be a better character and commentary on jujutsu society than geto, but using his attire as reason for it isnt exactly equivocal to the aforementioned layers i've outlined. geto's brilliance is in how aptly they condensed all these angles relative to his screen time. now that doesnt mean he's beyond critique: his characterization post-defection is a bit too caricatured for me, and amanai wasnt utilized to the extent that she could've been to complicate his motivations and expand/clarify his thoughts on humanity, plus his plan to exterminate humanity is just as futile as his former sorcerer work, but thats the point. that ideals are fallible and often arbitrary, and that being governed by them can be detrimental and self-destructive. geto wanted to protect those he cared abt above everything, and conjured smth just as grand and insurmountable as the jujutsu system to rival it without taking into account how that obfuscated things, that ultimately, ideals weren't ever what was important, but actually those around him. bc in actuality, what he's doing doesnt center them, it centers him. he who literally tasted the rot and gore of humanity, took it into his body and used it as a weapon for their service, until that poison metastasized and he vowed to amputate his brokenness, without realizing that he'd just opted for another poison instead. he's a tragic character.

having said that, you dont have to care abt him. but he's defintely not badly written lol.

[homunculus-argument]

Why are you Finns so miserable? From an outside perspective, as someone who lives in a country where our government has continuously failed us, your country seems to be nearly perfect. It seems like paradise.

I truly feel that most people living in my country would kill to live in one like yours. I would saw off my leg if it meant that I could have the guaranteed quality of life that you guys have.

So why are you guys so sad? Is it the cold? The lack of sunlight? I’m seriously at a loss here, because I feel like you guys really take your homeland for granted.

I have no idea. Being alive is simply an unpleasant obligation and a thankless duty that you owe to nobody in particular and gain nothing out of doing. I was literally born as an unpleasant obligation - my parents didn't like each other and they didn't like children, but they married each other and had two kids because that's what people are supposed to do. When we whined as kids about how we don't want to go to school, they'd just say "well I don't want to go to work, either, but unfortunately that's just what life is." Life consists of going places you don't want to go to do things you don't want to do.

My mother once told me that if I ever kill myself, she will go completely insane, just the way that my grandmother went insane when my aunt killed herself. I was like 15 at the time when she told me this, I had been three years old when the aforementioned aunt died. I had never known her, but I was raised with the understanding that the only reason to continue being alive is peer pressure. You don't get to die, you have to keep living because the people around you would be sad if you quit. It's a mutual hostage situation.

Back when the church had more power and death penatly was a thing, there were people who committed crimes that had a death penalty (or claimed to have committed them, depending on the crime) in order to get executed rather than simply commit suicide, because suicide was an unforgivable sin but if you were executed, you could still confess your sins before the final blow and die with hopes of going to heaven.

Finns aren't oblivious of how bad things are everywhere else, or how good we have it. That, too, is a source of misery. It's a whole country of "you have no reason to be sad, there are people out there with real problems" and being reminded that everything everywhere else is even more miserable than how we have it. That anyone else would be ready to kill or saw off their own leg to get to be here, and here we are squandering all this potential by sitting here like a miserable little piece of shit.

Frankly, I am baffled by the concept that there really are people who just genuinely, honestly, wholeheartedly want to live. Like as a preferrable option to having never been born at all. To me, finding happiness in life has always been a "when life gives you lemons, make lemonade" sort of thing, finding silver linings out of the unfortunate matter that I happened to be born.

[lilacs-and-vanilla]

HCs for having Spider-man Noir as a S/O (w/ scenarios)

General HCs…

- His age is never specified in the movie, the game, or the comics. I think he’s around early-thirties.

- He constantly has cold hands and he will use them.

- Like he’ll walk up behind you and stick them up your shirt along your back or your sides and watch you squeal and try to wiggle away before asking smugly “Oh, sorry. Just warming my hands.”

- Unlike other Spider-man variants, Noir wears glasses. I think he has a bit of poor eyesight.

- He will go through the “where are my glasses?” thorough sweep of the apartment to try and find them, getting frustrated when he can’t, before he finally asks you for help.

- When you find them for him, you unfold them and slide them onto his frowning face. He’s not upset at you, he’s upset at himself for making you find his things.

- He’ll make sure to kiss you and thank you profusely for your services.

- His dark hair is often disheveled from being in the mask for so long.

- He likes when you play with it, running your fingers through it idly while he rests his head in your lap after a long day of wearing the stuffy, identity-hiding fabric.

- He has the cutest happy trail on his tummy. Enough said…

- He is not a morning person. Spending all night fighting crime takes a toll on one’s sleep schedule.

- But he has the most gorgeous morning voice you’ve ever heard.

- He’s the “five more minutes” type of guy.

- He will physically lay on top of you to keep you in bed if he has to.

- If you manage to wiggle out from under him and are pestering him to get out of bed, he will groan and huff and fuss because he just “doesn’t want to and you can’t make him.”

And now some more of the spicy HCs…

- If you want it, he’ll let you tie him up. He could easily break any ropes or cuffs you put on him, but he wants to make you happy.

- He’ll tie you up if you ask him to, normally with webs against the headboard or from the ceiling. He won’t gag you though.

- He likes to hear your pleasured sounds, to hear his name come from your mouth.

- He doesn’t like to see his seed drip out of you. He doesn’t want you to waste it.

- He’ll keep himself in you long after he’s done to make sure it gets in deep (great cuddle opportunity).

- If he pulls out, he will use his hands to scoop his mess back inside you. He likes seeing the face you make when you feel him fill your insides and keep it there.

- He doesn’t like degradation. He hears enough insults and dirty language fighting crime. He certainly doesn’t want to hear it from his lover.

- He won’t do it to you either. He doesn’t think you deserve that. The farthest he will go is teasing.

- How long will he last when edged? He literally won’t. He will not last more than maybe two or three denials before starting to squirm, and buck, and whine, and beg you to let him cum.

- He loves loves loves praise. His job is dangerous and often thankless. Give him any sort of praise and you’ll have him wrapped around your finger.

- If you call him a good boy, he will melt.

- He’s a strict “keep it in the bedroom” kind of guy.

- But there was that one time he was so desperate that he came and found you one night when you were working late, hoisted you up along the side of a tall building, and made love to you against the wall.

- He’d tugged on your clothes enough to slip a hand under your thigh to support your weight, the fingers of his other clinging to the smooth concrete with that special little spider power of his.

- He’d pulled the front of his pants down just enough to free his arousal, letting gravity do most of the work as he rutted into you.

- He’d slipped the bottom of his mask up just enough to press his lips into yours, effectively stifling both of your sounds to prevent any possible late night bystanders from looking up to see such a display.

- He hasn’t done it since, and he gets embarrassed when you bring it up.

- Wear any type of clothing that accentuates your curves and he will turn feral.

- Especially if it’s your thighs.

- Shorts that expose more than they’re supposed to, stockings that squeeze your leg in such a certain way, a dress that hugs your hips and fits the outline of your waist.

- He just has a thing for thighs.

- Grabbing, squeezing, kissing, biting, anything.

- He likes resting his head in your lap or eating you out just to have his face close to your thighs.

- If your thighs are ticklish, he’ll find all those little sensitive spots that make you wiggle.

- The man will eat you out like a feral animal. He’ll shove his tongue as deep as it goes to hear you mewl like a kitten.

- It doesn’t matter if you’re on your back in bed, sat on a counter, pressed against the side of a building (on the ground OR in the air), or sitting on his face. He will suffocate himself to get a taste.

- In general, he’s fairly vocal. He moans and pants and growls, and if you’re edging him he can get pretty whiny.

- He likes when you pay special attention to his neck. Kissing, licking, nipping. If you do it right, it’ll tickle just a little.

- If you’ve taken care of him after a particularly hard day, he’ll collapse on top of you immediately after finishing, cuddle up until you’re both comfortable, and promptly fall asleep.

[teaboot]

Your post about art vs content got me thinking about the differences between the two. To me there is no difference besides the mindsets. One is of creator and the enjoyer, the other is content and consumer it removes the personhood, the joy/emotion, from the equation. Like a writer or video creator may not see their work as art so content creator maybe a way to refer to themselves comfortably but it sounds so machine, emotionless and lifeless, like a cookie cutter recipe mass producing something verses people lovingly crafting something...then again Disney uses a cookie cutter recipe for the most part and it brings out bangers cause people lovingly make it their own so maybe I'm thinking too hard on this

Does my long-winded rant make sense?

see, I get what you mean, but I still feel like the willingness to entertain calling art of any kind "content" reduces it to the facet of consumption where in reality, the experience of consuming art is not the sole defining trait of it.

Reducing arts like music, writing, painting, dance, voice acting, theater, etc. to the role of "content"- a thing created to be consumed, measured and valued by how pleasant or easy it is to digest- I feel that it was our biggest red flag to herald the incoming tide of AI "art".

Because if art is "content", if arts are nothing but consumable matter, then obviously the key to success is to produce as much soft, tasty, edible paste as we possibly can at the lowest possible expense.

It's the same issue I have with "meal replacements", diet culture, nutrient slurries, twenty-step skincare routines, 24/7 body padding and shapewear and laxative teas and "grind culture". It's not a cause, but a symptom, of the disease that is late-stage capitalism.

Things must be produced at low cost and remain in high demand forever. Things must be perfect and palatable and the new hit trend forever. People must pay hand over fist to consume without asking anything in return, and if they start dropping like flies at the unending unrewarded thankless demand of it all, then that must be treated as a weakness. We should all take pride in how much we can spend, pay, give, produce, and think as little as possible about what we ask for ourselves.

So, who cares if, of two identical paintings, one was made by a person and one was made by a computer program? It's the same work, so what does it matter? What does it matter?

I am an artist. I make art. I ask a question, make a statement, declare something horrific or challenging or upsetting or wrong or grotesque, and when you respond, we are together experiencing a conversation. We are existing, two people living one life and reaching out and touching across time and space. No matter the work, you're at the barest minimum saying, "I'm alive, and you're alive, and at one time or another we shared this same world, and at the end of the day we aren't too terribly different. My heart is worth sharing, and your heart is worth the struggle of understanding."

An AI-generated piece, a computer-generated voice, a CGI puppet of someone long since dead and gone, they cannot speak. They have no voice. Ay best, they are the most chewable, consumable, landlord-beige common denominator possible that you can sit and listen to like the lone survivor of a shipwreck listening to the same three songs on a broken record, and at worst, they're the uncaring vomit of an empty, unloving, value-addled hack wearing the skin of someone I know over their own.

When you abandon art to say that you make content, that should not be a point of pride. That's an embarrassment. That's not sitting down for an intelligent discussion with an equal, that's kneeling at the feet of the crowd and saying, "what do you want to see me do? I can be anyone you've ever loved. I can be them, I can be anyone, as long as you love me."

I can make content. I can be consumed. What do you want to consume? I'll make myself consumable. I'll make myself just like anything you like. And I'll make so much of it that you'll never have to go anywhere else, because it'll all be right here, and under all the cut-and-paste schlock you've seen before I will sit alone in the dark and the silence and I will know that I am safe, because I am valued, because I am desired, and I need to be desired or else I am worthless like a factory that no longer churns out steel or a hen that no longer lays eggs or a cow that is too old to make milk.

Content, the most literal meaning, is something which is contained inside a container. What it is doesn't really matter, and the best it can hope to be is something worthy of being scooped out and used.

Art is an experience that transcends value. Art is something you can eat without paying for. You can make it out of anything and anyone can do it. It can be crude and vulgar and bad, and that's a strength because it means something. It always, always means something, and it doesn't matter if you like it or not. It's not content because it doesn't fill anything. It's a living, breathing thing, and whether you want to birth it or eat it, then you're going to have to be willing to put the fucking work in

[hazyange1s]

Everyone gets insecure sometimes, even if they try to hide it — or run far away from it.

Like Ominis, who is terrified of himself. He wants to be good; wants to be the kind and gentle and true boy he promised himself he would be. Sometimes it’s easy, and other times it’s easier to be cruel. To spit venom at those who’ve wronged you instead of hiding your fangs. He feels that seed of darkness tended to by his family, and spends every day trying to stamp it out; disgusted and ashamed by his own baser instincts.

And Sebastian, who embraces those instincts — even when it’s clear he should ignore them. But he can’t help that he’s passionate. And oftentimes those instincts are correct, anyway. Still, it’s not a trait he’s always proud of, especially when it winds up costing him (and those he’s closest to) dearly. He’ll admit that it’s exhausting to feel everything all of the time. He drowns in it. No, that’s not it — he burns with it, fearing that one day he’ll destroy everything.

Garreth knows this fear of extremes. He’s always seemingly either too much or not enough. Too loud, and reckless, and brash; but still not intelligent enough, or responsible enough, or good enough. He tries to maintain his carefree persona, but the criticisms stack up. His friends, his professors, his parents… they all tell him to calm down. Follow the rules. Be more like your brothers. For once, he just wants to be allowed to be himself.

Natty, a Gryffindor through and through, just wants to make the right choices. She has to do the right thing™️, and most of the time the solution is obvious. But still she questions herself; looking back on every little turn she’s made on her journey thus far and worrying if perhaps she’ll never be able to save everyone. No matter how many fights she wins or lives she saves, there will always be evil in the world that she can’t extinguish — and that sense of helplessness plagues her more than she’d care to admit.

Poppy has always been on the outside looking in. It began with her family, who she wanted to love but secretly despised (and who resented her in turn), and just when she thought she’d found her place… it’s the same story all over again. She may brush off the rude comments, the nicknames — there goes Peculiar Poppy, at it again — but they serve as a constant reminder of her lot in life. Once in a while, it would be nice to truly belong.

Imelda doesn’t need other peoples’ approval to know who she is. She’s strong, and confident, and… well, she worked damn hard to get where she is today. Maybe she’s a little stand-offish, and sure she can be a bit cruel, but that’s how you protect yourself. She guards herself so nobody can ever take away from those carefully cultivated parts of her, and yes… it’s lonely. It’s thankless. Is she missing out on something greater than the brief high of success? Hasn’t she earned some love and recognition, too?

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Drawn to you | Pt. 6

(A/N) There we go. I'm so sorry about not posting last week. A lot came up and I didn't find the time to write anything. Also, I really enjoy writing human!Alastor, more so than I thought, so there's gonna be more of that.

Pairing: Alastor x bunny demon!Reader (no Y/N)

Warnings: murder...yep, sexism, nightmare, flashback

Synopsis: Will he finally remember you?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

“Alastor?”

When did he fall asleep? As his eyes widened, he spun around and came face to face with Charlie. She looked concerned, one of her hands raised as if she was about to touch him, but hesitated.

“Ah, princess. What can I do for you?”

The demon got to his feet and swiped his clawed hands over his coat as if to smooth out any wrinkles. Now that he was standing, Charlie had to look up at him, a motion that had always given Alastor a feeling of power, but right now, all he could think about was you.

“I’m sorry for waking you. I just wanted to check in on the two of you and offer to give you a break. You’ve been in this room for days now.”

It’s true. He has been here for days. Watching you sleep and heal. Watching you slowly get better. And if he’s honest, it’s the only reason he hasn’t marched up to Valentino and beat him to pulp. So no, he didn’t want the princess to take over. He wouldn’t be able to take accountability for what happens if he leaves the room without you.

“Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate the offer, but I’d rather stay here.”

Her face fell, concern washing over it again. She opened her mouth, about to object, but a quiet whimper stopped her.

Alastor whipped around as soon as he heard the sound leave your lips and rushed to your bedside. You were thrashing around, your face distorted in fear. You were having a nightmare. Charlie joined Alastor at your side, but he quickly shooed her away, reasoning that the more people you saw once you woke up, the more you’d panic. She hesitated, but after a few seconds nodded and left the room.

The radio demon turned all his attention to you now, still battling with the blanket on top of you. He gently grabbed your shoulders and pushed you against the mattress, trying to keep you from hurting him or yourself.

“It’s okay dear, I’m here.”

He continued to hold you down while whispering nonsense, trying to break past the panic of what you were experiencing at that moment and reach you. And it worked. You suddenly went limp, another whimper leaving your lips, but this time it was his name…but…not really his name.

“Ali…”

He blinked once…twice…three, no four times, his eyes glazing over as memories came rushing back to him. New Orleans…the radio station…and suddenly he felt the humid heat against his skin, the sweat causing his glasses to slide down his nose and he pushed them back up again.

Earth - late 1910s

He stood before his workplace, the radio company where he took over the late airings. With his usual smile, he entered the well-air-conditioned building and made his way up to the offices, on a mission to find his favorite coworker.

He quickly spotted her, shoulders slumped as she read over a page. His cheerful smile lost most of its cheer, no longer reaching his eyes as he gazed upon her back. She deserved so much more than working for thankless, egotistical men who couldn’t appreciate her genius.

With quick steps, he closed the distance between himself and her and placed his hands over her eyes, his grin returning to it’s usual brightness.

“Guess who?”

The chuckle that escaped her lips made his heart beat faster, a soft blush covering his cheeks. It was the loveliest sound he’d ever heard and at the same he wished to keep that sound to himself, he wanted to broadcast it to the entire world.

“Oh, Samantha, is that you?”

His shoulders shook as a bubbly laugh escaped his lips. He rarely laughs, but with her, it felt natural. He leaned down slightly until he could whisper into her ear.

“Would you prefer it being Samantha?”

She shook her head and Alastor lowered his hands, as the woman spun around in her chair, smiling at him. And…it was you. He finally recognized you.

“Now, how is my favorite lady doing?”

Gently, he took a hold of your right hand, guiding it to his lips to press a quick kiss against your knuckles, while you rolled your eyes. You always did but he still insisted on the gesture. After all, it was one of the only places he could kiss. At least for now.

“Ah, you know, same old, same old. Got my work done within two hours, wrote down my concept for the day and it’s not even lunchtime, got yelled at by boss-man once again,-”

As soon as you mentioned your boss, his eyes hardened and he glared at the office door that hid the fat man. If he could only kill him…maybe he would. In that moment he wondered how it felt to kill someone.

“Someone ought to take care of that bastard.”

Your eyes widened at his comment you raised your hands to cover his mouth. But he just chuckled and lowered them slowly.

“You can’t just say stuff like that. You’ll get fired.”

Alastor turned back to you with his signature smile. How adorble you were, always looking out for him.

“If I were to get fired for protecting you, it would be worth it.”

He watched a light blush cover your cheeks. You lowered your head to hide it, but he still noticed. Of course he did, he noticed everything about you. That coy smile you were wearing right now. Your favorite perfume that he could always smell on you. How you always seemed to sit up straighter when he was near. And the excitment in your eyes when you see him.

Alastor chuckled again, before carefully ruffling through your hair, making sure not to destroy your hairdo too much. You started to complain, but before the first word could even slip past your lips, he had stopped and instead started to fix the mess he had made. Then he turned back to you.

“So, what’s on your agenda today?”

You reached for the pieces of paper on your desk and went through them, Alastor listening intently and taking notes in his head. He loved your ideas and often used them during his broadcast. Especially topics he knew you were passionate about.

“Congress is supposed to vote on the 19th amendment in a few days. I really hope it gets signed.”

Alastor nodded. He’d definitely have to mention that, especially after you turned to look at him with that sparkle in your eyes. He smiled, he loved that side of you. Excited and passionate. Something he rarely found in the women around him, something that drew him even closer to you.

His thoughts were interrupted when his name was called across the office space. He looked up and saw his boss waving him over. His eyes flickered to you and he saw the disappointment in them. And he understood it all too well, himself being annoyed that he had to leave you.

“Gotta run, will you tune in tonight?”

Knowing his boss didn’t like to be kept waiting, Alastor started to walk away while still facing you.

“I always do.”

Once again his heart fluttered at your words, a giant grin spreading across his lips before he turned and ran towards his boss who was already looking annoyed. As soon as Alastor was close enough, the other man started walking, keeping silent until they were out of the office.

“Well, is she your girl?”

Alastor looked at his boss, confusion plain on his face, but shook his head once the other man confirmed he was talking about you.

“Hm…in that case…maybe I’ll call her into my office then. You know, get to it. She’s a real cutie.”

Alastor would never admit it. He usually was more careful with his killings, but at the moment he saw red.

With a strained smile, he asked his boss if he’d like to go out for a smoke, his treat of course. Once the man agreed, Alastor led him out the back door, where no one ever was, and distracted him long enough for the radio host to grab a loose brick and whack him over the back of his head. It was enough to knock him out, but that wasn’t enough. If he could have, Alastor would have beaten the man to a pulp, but he couldn’t get any blood on his person, so he instead decided to use his belt to strangle him to death.

Once he was sure the man was dead, he got to his feet, breathing heavily while his lips slowly pulled into a wicked grin. Oh, how good that felt. He only wished he could’ve watched the panic in his eyes while he died.

Still, Alastor’s mind quickly returned to the task at hand. He had just killed someone in the alley behind where he worked. He’s not sure, but there was a possibility, that others saw them leaving together and then he’d be done for. His mind was racing as he thought of what to do. He had to stage the scene, that much was obvious, but how?

Burglary.

He quickly reached into his boss’s pants and pulled out his wallet, removing all the cash before dropping the empty wallet next to the body. Next, he removed the large, gold ring from the man’s little finger, as well as his pocket watch. The last touch was taking off the man’s belt and wrapping it around his neck in place of his own, just so that the police would think that it was used to murder him and not search for another one.

Once done, he stepped back, a proud smile on his lips as he pocketed the objects he had just taken. He could use those to remember this. His first kill. But surely not his last.

@impulsivethoughtsat2am @dasimp777 @fanficwriter5 @wonderlandangelsposts @mo-0-o @xalygatorx @fairyv-ice

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