#personally i think. that if he gets to the point where he allows himself to do it

[bunni-v1]

Past and Future (Happy Birthday Lighter)

🍓Finished this shit at 4:30am, if y'all don't enjoy this I will kill myself. Anyway had fun writing this, it's more of me fucking around and finding out with Lighter's character, but I think it's fluffy and cute so... enjoy lol

TW: Mentions of Death; Suicidal ideation

Info: Lighter x GN!Reader; Angst to Fluff (?) Kinda?; hurt and comfort (i think??)

Word Count: 2k

December 27th. Two days after Christmas, five days before New Year's. Oddly placed on the calendar, awkwardly smooshed between two major holidays in New Eirdu. To most, it was insignificant, just another day. To Lighter it was something he dreaded each year. Between the holiday cheer and the buzz of excitement for the new year, it was nothing more than a looming cloud dampening his mood.

December 27th, Lighter Lorenz’s birthday, one of the worst days of his life.

He didn’t hate birthdays, they were nice when they were for other people. He had to admit he enjoyed getting gifts for others and seeing their eyes light up when they opened it, and the light atmosphere when everyone sang a horrendously off-key rendition of the birthday song was hard to hate. They were celebrations of the life of that person, a hurrah to cheer them into another long year until the next came around. He just hated his own.

Gifts and cake and warm fuzzy sweet nothings acted only as reminders that he was alive. He was alive, and everyone else who deserved to be wasn’t. Another marker of another year since he lost everything. He wanted to pretend it wasn’t there, maybe sleep until the 28th or run away for a while, but the girls wouldn’t let him.

They’d managed to weasel his birthday out of him about a year into his being here, and they made a point to celebrate it each year. Nothing big, they knew he wasn’t one for huge crowds outside of his fights, but still a party where they showered him with gifts and congratulations that he did not deserve. He didn’t have it in him to tell them to stop.

So, year after year he grinned and bared it with as much grace as someone as fucked up as he could. It wasn’t hard to be grateful for all they did for him, but it was always hard to smile and accept it like he deserved it. The nagging voice in the back of his head reminded him that he shouldn’t be allowed to be this happy, not when his stupidity cost the lives of good people – wonderful people, who he loved.

He usually only lasted until Burnice got out the nitro fuel, then he would quietly slip away from his own party to be alone. The quiet was easier on his mind than the distractions of colorful confetti and sweet cake made just to his taste. He liked to sit in the pain, to recede into that cocoon of hurt, as if to apologize to his friends by torturing himself. 

This year was no different, of course. Just as Burnice handed out the nitro fuel, he quietly slunk into the shadows, smiling to himself as the rest of the Sons of Calydon remained celebrating in his steed. He walked his way to his bike, sighing in the cool night air. The breeze on his skin was the only comfort from the hell in his mind.

He let the air out, hand tucking into his pocket to pull out the little thing of candy he carried around on him. The little lemon drops fall into his palm with ease, and he tosses them back with practiced ease. He rarely felt like smoking anymore, but his birthday was always a struggle. The heightened emotions made him want to take the easy route out, to fall back on his old ways and make stupid mistakes in hopes it would make him feel better. Instead of giving in, though, he sucked on those candies like a saving grace. It was the least he could do for his old friends.

As he stopped in front of his bike, he shoved the candies back into his pocket. Taking a second to himself in the quiet of the night. It was almost over, just a few more hours, and the pain would lessen back down to an ache again. A little longer and he wouldn’t have to worry about constant reminders of being alive, and he wouldn’t have to save face for everyone else’s sake.

“Lighter?” A quiet, soft, almost worried voice from behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder, eyes softening when he saw it was you. You’d been quiet about his birthday all month, not bothering him with any reminders. You knew, intrinsically, how much he hated it. You always knew everything about him, it was an infuriating quirk of yours that he would never want to go away. 

“Hey, dollface,” his voice just as quiet as he raised his arm for you to duck under, “got tired of the party?”

You press yourself into his side, enjoying the warmth of your personal heater, “I saw you leave and I wanted to make sure you weren’t doing anything stupid.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “Me stupid? Never. Just needed some air.”

“Is this getting some air just for you, or could you use some company?” You offer, giving him the reins.

He liked the alone time, he wanted to wallow in self-pity more than anything in the world. His head reminded him that he deserved to be alone on a night like this. Yet, your eyes flutter a little at him, and your lashes brush away those awful thoughts like nothing. 

“I’ve always got room for you,” he hums, giving you one last squeeze before helping you on the bike.

The drive is peaceful, the breeze cooling his hot skin like an apology from the world for all he’d been put through. He doesn’t think he deserves it, but he wouldn’t deny the feeling either. Your arms wrapped firmly around his middle, head pressed against his shoulder only calmed him further. It grounded him back in the present, reminding him that the past had long passed and that he still had things to live for.

The Sons of Calydon, who took him in and cared for him despite how distant he was at the start. The Proxies, who took special care to stop by earlier and give him a gift, congratulated him for being so strong and thanked him for his constant help when they needed it. The other former members of his mercenary group who, despite how much he wanted to deny it, held no ill will to him and wished him the best for the future.

And, of course, you curled against his back. You trusted him with your life, and he would easily lay his down for you – not that you’d let him if you had any say. You kept reminding him every single day that he was someone worth loving, that he was more than his past, and that he was the one who could define what his future looked like. It was hard not to picture it without you there, not with how attached he’d become to your little displays of love for him.

Displays like this, following him out of his party to make sure he wouldn’t do anything to hurt himself more than he was already hurting. He smiles warmly back at you as he eases his bike to a stop at his favorite quiet spot. You smile back pressing a kiss to his shoulder before moving to get off the bike.

You intertwined your fingers with his like it was second nature as you walked to the fence at the cliff's edge. From here you could see the endless desert, and the edge of the hollow, the moon peaking over it in an almost beautiful display. He helps you sit on the fence, placing a protective hand around your waist to keep you from falling forward.

Your hand presses his head into your shoulder, scratching at his scalp with such care it nearly makes his knees buckle. Another reminder of what he has that he couldn’t afford to lose. No one has known him the way you know him, no one has ever had the effect you have on him. It was almost enough to make all the horror of his past dissipate in his mind, but a small part of him still clung to it. Unwilling to allow himself to fully forget.

“You okay?” You ask, interrupting the quiet bubble that had formed around you.

He nods, “Thinking.”

“About…?” You urge with a raise of a brow, unbearably cute in his mind's eye.

He smiles, genuine for the first time that night, “About how much I love you.”

You shake your head at him, but you don’t argue with him about how he’s lying, or try and force him to tell you everything. You don’t need to. You always trust that he’ll tell you when he’s ready. It’s another thing about you that he couldn’t risk losing.

You let the quiet fall over you again, leaning into his chest with a content hum. He allows himself to indulge in your affections for now, preferring having you here in his arms than staring aimlessly at the skyline by himself. It was easier to swallow the ache in his throat with you to soften the harshness of the feeling, regardless of whether you knew you did it or not. 

He wonders, hopelessly, what his old friends would think of you. They would like you, he was sure of that. You had a personality that would let you fit right in with their eclectic group. The idea of you smiling side by side with them warms his chest, his heart aching as it fades away. A dream he’d never get to see.

He’s not aware that he’s crying, he’s not sure how long he has been crying, all he knows is that you turn to him and cradle his face in your hands. They wipe at his tears without needing to be asked, another quiet reassurance that you cared for him regardless of what was going on in his head.

Lighter sniffles pathetically as his eyes lock with your worried ones. You seem to know what's wrong without him needing to say it, which he likely wouldn’t be able to do if you weren’t able to deduce it on your own. You frown at him, bringing him down to kiss his forehead.

“I’m sorry it’s so hard,” You whisper, wrapping your arms around him.

He pulls you in tightly, desperate for the skinship you offered up, “It never gets easier. Everything is a reminder.”

“I know, that’s okay,” you press a kiss to the side of his face, “I don’t think you need to forget it, Lighter. I think you need to learn how to live with it.”

He closes his eyes, the hollow where they’re buried fading from sight as if looking at it would blind him now. He holds you even closer, letting your words sink in. Learning to live with it, sounded much easier than it probably was. Maybe you were right though, he’d done so much wallowing and running, maybe it was time he found a way to live with the pain.

“Mistake, failure, accident… it doesn’t matter what you call it,” you continue, pulling him back to look him in the eyes, “It’ll always hurt, but that hurt is a reminder of how human you are. You don’t want to lose that. Remember it, feel it, and they’ll never really leave you.”

You swallow, taking him in with those pretty eyes of yours. It’s not perfect, but it’s what he needed to hear tonight. He presses you into a kiss, soft and light and nervous. He was afraid you’d disappear if he was too rough. You melt into it, indulging him like he hoped you would. This was the only way he knew how to show you his appreciation, words would never be enough to display how deeply he cared for you.

When he pulled away you were breathless, face flushed from lack of oxygen, and indescribably beautiful. He smiled subconsciously at you, and you returned the look with all the love and admiration in the world.

“Happy Birthday Lighter,” You say soft as the wind still tussling your hair, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” He repeats back, and he feels the ache in his chest lessen every second he spends looking at you. You taught him a lot since he met you. A lot about himself, a lot about those around him, a lot about you. Most importantly, tonight you taught him that despite his past, he made a future for himself that he should be more determined to remember to protect.

[sokkastyles]

Hi.

Hope you are doing well.

Thank you for your answer on the previous question on Aang.

I saw your reblog of the post on TSR, where the anon says that Zuko wanted Katara to murder Yon Rah, and I legit thought, no where did Zuko say he wanted Katara to do that. He simply said that he could help her find the man who killed her mother and helped her when she needed it. I know this has been discussed, but does this idea come from Aang saying it's about revenge?

Also, on the comic panel where Mai says she cannot fathom betraying her father, I think it actually adds to Zuko's bravery to face Ozai and call him out. I think Zuko should have broken his relationship with Mai because if she couldn't tell him this vital information that he had every right to know, then he cannot trust her and it's better to leave the relationship.

I would like your thoughts on this.

Yeah, it's based on what Aang says. It's just so crazy to me that people would rather listen to Aang's definition of Katara's experience instead of listening to what she actually says.

Making it about what Zuko wants is also another way of decentering Katara and her experience. Maybe Zuko did want Katara to murder that man, but he doesn't attempt to influence Katara other than enabling her to make a decision. Aang didn't want her to have the choice to begin with. Most importantly, he doesn't assume he knows what she will do and what's good for, which is why even him admitting he was wrong at the end makes him come out the better person.

And absolutely, that part in Smoke and Shadow is so bizarre because the whole POINT of Zuko's narrative is that he stopped enabling his father's evil. That literally changes everything about it. It's also doubly hypocritical for Mai because her response to learning that Zuko was talking to Ozai is to immediately blame him for it, even though Zuko was hurting no one but himself and NEVER ONCE allowed Ozai to influence his behavior, even though the comic makes us think that that is what is going to happen.

And the thing is, yes the comics are bad, but this is consistent with how Mai is characterized in the show, as someone who would break up with her boyfriend but not allow him to break up with her, as someone who would dismiss his emotions but then get extremely angry when she isn't catered to. As someone who can't deal with her boyfriend's issues but can't spout anything but negativity and hatred and just expects him to put up with it. As someone who likes her boyfriend to put more work into the relationship than she's willing to.

[avelera]

#THANK YOUUU#i see people project a political motivation onto him that really doesn't exist nearly as much as one may assume#and again with the 'sassy mean viktor' thing. when he teases jayce it's usually light friendly teasing#sometimes i see him getting written like a grandma whacking you with his cane and telling you to pick your shit up off the floor#of course he's a part of politics because he's from the undercity and he's faced discrimination because of that and bc of his disability#his existence is politicized in a way it's clear he never wanted it to be. he does not lean into it though. he tries to stick to science#which to him is objective and apolitical - of course it very much isn't and that becomes a point of conflict plotwise#it is neither free of emotion nor untouched by political agendas#i mean like imo there's a reason we don't get much of viktor's backstory or see him go to the undercity or talk about it#(rather one of the pivotal things they choose to show us from his childhood is his empathy for Rio. he's lonely but has a big heart)#to me it's because that's not the story he wants to tell. he doesn't think it important to emphasize that connection.#he wants to be seen as his own person worthy of legacy on his own merit. he feels shackled by every perceived setback in his life#whether that's his leg or his illness or his place of upbringing. he sees those things as necessary to overcome and overcompensate for#so he can just do the work he wants to do unburdened by physical limitations or the perception and judgment of those around him#i feel like people might project onto him what they feel are 'correct' or 'progressive' ways of thinking that someone like him should have#and thus ignore how he's actually presented as thinking and feeling about himself and his place in the world#he knows he's worked twice as hard for half the recognition compared to piltover students at the academy#but he has no desire to utilize that as political fodder to make a point or even start a conversation about zaun#he just wants to be allowed to have the opportunities he deserves to work on important science.#i think he'd prefer if peers stop making a point about him being from the undercity and congratulating him on coming so far#and just treat him equally#he doesn't forget where he's from and as we see he genuinely wishes to help the undercity population out of compassion#for their plight. but there's no indication he wanted to engage in the larger piltover/zaun conflict and definitely not become a#political pawn in it as he perceived jayce getting sucked into.#thank you avelera for being one of the true viktor understanders#i hope when i finally try to write some fic i do him justice @asgardian--angels

I've absolutely LOVED your tag essays on these meta posts and I just wanted to thank you for this one, highlight, and add my agreement that there is a tendency in fandom for people to ascribe "correct' or "progressive" ways of thinking to characters that they share themselves or would execute on if they were in that character's position.

However, I also see this tendency as part of fandom-inevitable Flanderization and/or process of filing away all the sharp and unique edges a character might have, often until they devolve into thinly veiled versions of the author, or who the author would want to be in their place, up to and including ascribing progressive and activist politics to characters who are apolitical or even conservative.

To me, I find such changes to characters boring overall. I don't want to read about characters doing what they "should" do or being perfect little paragons with nothing that can be criticized about them. Holding perfect political views and acting stridently on them is just one way I see this evolution happen when characters inevitably drift from canon to fanon over the course of repeated fanworks.

That said, 1) I will never, ever actually fault an author for telling the story they want to tell. I might not personally find it interesting, but people should always tell the story they want to tell but also:

2) I think there is a plausible tale to tell with Viktor becoming political. There's plenty of seeds and events there within his story and the wider story of Arcane for him to get sucked into the political maelstrom and even become a champion on Zaun's behalf as a political entity in a way he never does in the show. And I'd be super curious to read such a fic! I just think it would require an extra step within the fic for me to find it plausible for Viktor to do so, given his demonstrated blindspot and apathy towards politics. Honestly, a mirror story where Viktor gets sucked into political life in Zaun the same way Jayce got sucked into political life in Piltover would be super interesting, either as a total AU (where Viktor is political instead of Jayce) OR with both becoming political, and Viktor realizing he's been overly harsh to Jayce and that if the situation was reversed, he'd do a lot of the same things to help his home.

Anyway, at the risk of another long and rambling tangent, I just want to say I love these tags and also I really loved your observations about how Viktor wants to be judged on his own merits! Getting off my soapbox now lol

Thank you for talking about how Viktor wouldn't be mean to Jayce! I do really agree that fandom really tries to boil them down to their basics or preexisting tropes and it really sucks to see people think he'd really insult Jayce or hit him with his cane. Something I started thinking about after I read that post is that so much of the cast are Zaunite and nearly every one of them are sharp-tongued, and so maybe that's why people think Viktor would be mean? But that doesn't really take into account his personality or how he might feel he has to present himself as someone from Zaun living in Piltover.

Yeah the "hitting with the cane" trope definitely feels OOC for him to me. I could maybe see him tapping or hooking Jayce to get his attention but... even then. We rarely see Viktor use his cane or crutch for anything but their intended purpose.

If I may extrapolate out, I find it notable that when he has the cane pre-time skip he leaves it aside when possible, like when standing at the blackboard, and tries to mask his disability. I know for many people with disabilities, they love their aids, and the aids given them freedom of movement and from pain, but I would venture to say that Viktor does not see his crutch or his cane all that favorably.

I think Viktor sees his disability aids as necessary indignities that he'd rather do without if he could. See how quickly he drops his crutch once he tests out being able to run post-experimentation. He probably only goes back and gets it, rather than abandoning it there, because he wants to continue to hide the experiments he's doing.

Combine that with Jayce noting how he saw his leg as a "weakness" and I think there is further evidence that Viktor sees his crutch or cane rather negatively.

Which is a roundabout way of saying, I don't think Viktor would use his crutch or his cane as a hook or a bludgeon against Jayce not only because he's arguably the most pacifistic character in the whole show, but also because I don't think he really likes using it or thinking about it for anything but its intended purpose of assisting his mobility. I think Jayce views Viktor's crutch more favorably than Viktor does, he sees it as a part of Viktor in a positive way, an extension of him.

As for the topic of Zaun, I do agree that I think some fics give Viktor more of a, hmm, "class consciousness" around Zaun than he's shown to have?

For example:

Viktor only ever calls it "the undercity" in S1. Calling it Zaun at all is something that radicals like Silco do, it's even implied that Silco is kind of resurrecting a long-dead name for the area as part of his separatist movement, so it might not even be in wide use beyond Silco's circles, like Viktor may not have even really heard of it as a common term in S1. In addition, if "Zaun" is a politically charged term, I wouldn't be surprised if Viktor would avoid calling it that at all, because he's not a separatist or a radical, he's just from there and he thinks of it as "the undercity". Viktor is not shown as someone from the undercity who really wants to rock the boat in Piltover politically and he's certainly not a separatist, he wants to help the undercity as a disadvantaged community within Piltover.

The only time I think we see Viktor call it "Zaun" is somewhat in the abstract in S2, when he admires Vander's vision for "Zaun as it could have been". To me, it felt like he was discussing Zaun as a distant ideal rather than as the place where he was currently located or a political identity he identified with. He admires that other people who are more political than him had a cohesive vision for something the undercity that Viktor knows could become.

Viktor is actually incredibly apolitical, which is interesting when you consider he was assistant to Heimerdinger, who was head of the Council. He considers Jayce's time as a Councilor a "waste of our time", it never even occurs to him to use that political power to improve lives in the undercity, instead of science. In general Viktor tends to be pretty blind to other discipline besides science when it comes to bettering the world, and is even dismissive of them, which I think is a bit narrow-minded of him to be honest.

Viktor's dismissiveness towards anything that isn't science when it comes to improving lives is certainly a factor in how his and Jayce's relationship becomes strained in S1, he never sees Jayce's work as a Councilor as potentially offering a broader avenue for achieving their goals to help the undercity, not once, which is actually rather baffling and interesting that he has this blindspot (possibly because of my theory that at a certain point in S1, once he knows he's rapidly dying, Viktor is only using "helping the undercity" as a smokescreen to others but mostly himself to cover up his shame for the fact he really just wants to use Hextech to save himself while the undercity has become secondary, but he doesn't want to admit that. That also explains his shame when he sees Sky's notes and realizes he's been trying to save himself to the exclusion of all else, that he's lost sight of his larger goals and dreams.)

Even when Viktor starts the cult in the undercity, it's not a politically motivated enclave, he doesn't describe it as part of a Zaunite movement. It really is just posed as a refuge for those in need, separate entirely I would argue from the Piltover vs. Zaun conflict, unlike Ekko's Firelights who provide shelter AND do community action and freedom fighting. Indeed, Viktor heals Salo, a Councilor, the most privileged of the privileged from Piltover. I'd argue this is an additional sign that he is "colorblind" when it comes to the conflict between the two cities.

Finally, I would argue that Viktor is from a generation that somewhat precedes the class conflicts and brewing civil war between Piltover and the undercity. I think he's from a generation where the cities were still linked enough that they were more like the "good" and the "bad" side of the tracks. He was smart enough to get out and make something of himself in the big city, he has a goal of helping to uplift those he left behind, but he sees them as one city still even if he has sympathy later for a separatist movement. The way he talks about the undercity to me feels less like a separate entity and more a particular disadvantaged community within Piltover.

Anyway, I've gone off on like three crazy wild tangents based on your reply. Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed that post! And I agree, of all the Zaunites, Viktor is actually quite different from the others and that is really interesting to explore!

[mama-qwerty]

Can you give an analysis between Shadow and Knuckles and how Sonic helped them and relate to their experiences? I feel they all suffer loss and but treat their grief differently.

On the surface, Shadow and Knuckles both seem very similar. They both are really focused in their goals, they both trusted and were used by a Robotnik, and they both kicked Sonic's butt the first time they interacted with him.

Knuckles knew who he was and where he came from, knew his family and his people, and was trying to live up to that ideal for the sake of his fallen tribe. He'd taken the quest and legacy of the entire echidna race onto his own shoulders, and did what he could to return the echidna's stolen honor. He'd sacrificed himself, his childhood, and his own happiness for that goal, because he knew he was the only one left to complete it.

Shadow, on the other hand, has no memory of his time before coming to Earth. Before he met Maria, he had no purpose, no goal, nothing to strive for because all he was was a lab rat for GUN's scientists. His days consisted of being hooked to monitors, subjected to experiments, and likely shoved back in his tube when he wasn't needed.

Knuckles lived his life constantly on the move. Searching for clues to the Master Emerald, being captured and forced to fight in arenas, and keeping ahead of the bounty hunters. Staying in one place didn't further his quest, and left him vulnerable to attack.

Shadow never knew life outside the facility. He stared at the same walls day in and day out. Maria eventually made things more bearable, but he was still trapped in this laboratory hell.

At his core, Knuckles always wanted a friend. He mentioned in the series that he was betrayed "again and again and again" when he tried making friends, but he still tries. He still has that kind heart, and no matter how many times he's hurt and betrayed, he will never let his heart grow cold. He'll be suspicious, sure, but he will (unfortunately) be more trusting than he likely should be.

Shadow has a hard time trusting, mostly because he had no reason to trust anyone to begin with. He was just a thing to the scientists. A creature to test and experiment on. No one tried to earn his trust, or treat him as anything but a novelty. Maybe at some point, even he saw himself as nothing but an object to study, and not really a person. Until Maria.

When Knuckles met Sonic, he'd been on his quest for the better part of his life. The excitement of finally, finally completing it likely overrode his instincts, as we saw him look unsure and questioning when Robotnik showed his true colors in a few scenes. Had he been thinking more clearly, he may have realized Robotnik's nature earlier on.

When Shadow met Sonic, he was dealing with the fresh grief and confusion of what had happened to Maria. The only things he new for sure was that GUN was the enemy, and his best friend was dead. He was trying to figure things out on his own, without the experience or knowledge to know what to do or where to go from there.

Sonic appealed to Knuckles by offering advice regarding hope for completing his quest. Knux was demoralized and feeling as though he'd failed not only himself, but his entire race by allowing Robotnik to get the Emerald.

"C'mon, Knucklehead, we're not beat yet." Sonic literally offered his hand in friendship, to help Knuckles complete the quest he was technically still on. Knux's driving force was his desire to get the ME and allow his people to finally rest in peace. He kept moving for all those years in their memory. To achieve what they couldn't.

Shadow was different. He didn't have an overarching goal, no driving quest that gave him focus. Shadow was dealing with so many emotions, and he'd had no one to guide him through such feelings before. Maria likely helped him back at the facility--as evidenced by the scene as they looked at the stars--but Shadow had never felt anything this big before. This heavy. This hard.

With Shadow, there was no concrete thing that would help him. Pain is all consuming. There is nothing that can be done to take it away. And because he had no idea who he was or what his purpose was before she died, now he was thrown into a complete tailspin with her gone. He was plunked into a big, confusing world and essentially had to figure it out all on his own, all while dealing with this giant hole in his heart.

Sonic offered his hand again, but this time it was in understanding. He knew the pain Shadow was going through. He knew how hard it was. He knew how confusing and scary it was to be on a planet you didn't know, suddenly faced with this prospect of being all alone and having to deal with everything by yourself.

And he knew what it felt like to lose the one person you loved above all others, practically right in front of you.

Knux may have lost everything the same day Sonic did, but Knuckles had something to focus on. Sonic didn't. Shadow doesn't. And it's possible that Knuckles hasn't fully worked through his grief yet. His quest for the ME took precedence, and he simply ignored those feelings of sadness as he did what he needed to not have let his tribe die in vain.

Sonic may have offered his hand and friendship to both Knuckles and Shadow, but the circumstances between them were different. Knuckles needed encouragement and help to finish his quest. Shadow needed someone who's been through this grief to tell him it's okay to feel sad. It's gonna hurt. And you can make bad choices, but that doesn't define who you are as a person. You can make good choices, too.

Sonic can't make Shadow feel better. But he can help Shadow feel better about being Shadow.

~~~

Check out my other Sonic 3 analysis posts

[qoldenskies]

Hello, first off happy holidays

Secondly, do you have any tips on writing donnie?

even if i yap ceaselessly about how i think these guys' little brains tick, most of the ways that i write them are more intuitive (other than rewatching the show to get a better sense of their voice/dialogue, which is always something i recommend lol) so i cant give anything super concrete. i am too worried im overinflating my own skill in portraying them to give any advice with complete confidence LMAO

oh actually just understand that donnie can be catty but he usually really has to be pushed to explode most of the time. he doesn't seem to LIKE being upset at all because its overwhelming and he doesn't like being perceived as sensitive even though he is. if its not sudden or angering enough to cause him to blow up in the moment, he'll usually just keep it to himself and let it fester. im thinking of shell in a cell and him taking a deep breath and just kind of allowing mikey to upset him over and over again, but also in donnie vs witch town where its shown he's just been holding onto all of this frustration and insecurity since the beginning, and it really only comes out once it hits a point where it feels personal + he's facing people that feel like a culmination of that problem, without having to tell his family himself.

id argue very seriously that he's the least confrontational of the four of them, because he directly seems to avoid it when he has the chance to, and he really only fights to be heard out instead of for things to go his way. it makes repo mantis very funny because he's telling mikey to grow a spine like he doesn't have less of one than him LMAO

[bayetea]

seeing non-black people critique rick's portrayal of black characters is interesting sometimes. only like 30% of the critiques I see make any sense to me to be honest

[prodixal]

Sinking deeper into his chair, the air of usual cockiness that surrounds him all but disappears. There was a strange sort of relief to be had, in his sisters company, when their conversations turned serious and raw. And he wished they'd allowed themselves more such moments, perhaps if they had, things would have turned out different. Better. Easier.

"I should think Vaelora has more than enough soft things to protect, dear sister. Perhaps what they needs is someone stern enough to rely on as they take care of everything and everyone around them." his index lifts gently from the cup to point her way, as he held it over an arm of his seat. "And you very much are that person." Varyn was certain if Vaelora could find it in them to trust her, then love would come with ease. With necessity. "You are in no need of my advice, nor my opinion, but I shall offer the latter freely nonetheless. So that you may do with it as you please." he did not need her snapping again.

"Mother used to say a head needed its neck. To rest upon, to turn it the right way." he did not know why such a thought occurred to him, only that it did. "And the head above your proverbial neck shall hold extra weight in its crown. She should need...a sturdy neck, a neck she can trust, rely on." his voice is calm, quiet, tired. "Just be their equal. Show them your fire --- a dragon will love you for it. Else I fear..." he tilts his head, leaning forward, placing the cup atop the low table beside him. "You might never get what you're after. Vaelora might be many things, but stupid is not one of them, and should you wish to hide --- they'll know." that much, he was certain. Cersha was good, but she was not good enough to deceive someone who could see through people like they were made of lace. "But who am I? To offer such thoughts to you anyway, huh dear sister?"

Deep down, beneath the gaping black hole where the heart should be - and several layers of selfishness, arrogance and pride - Varyn really did feel the two to be a perfect match. Vaelora had the passion, and the urge to do 'better' than her mother. To do right by people and the crown. Vaelora loved their family, their friends, their name. Vaelora was of good heart, with a strong mind, and a kind of warmth that Cersha shied away from. -- Cersha had the strong intellect, the long lasting desire to for power and rule. She too cared for her family, her name, the crown. To put it simply, Vaelora and Cersha complimented one another in almost every relevant way. So Varyn did not worry, that love would blossom from their union in time, should they both be willing to put aside their differences and open up to that possibility.

But this would remain a private thought.

At her dissection of happiness, fulfilment -- victory, he is thoroughly lost in thought. Varyn had never looked at it that way. For she was right. Happiness was fleeting. An emotion that changed with each candle mark. But victory, glory, a sense of fulfilment? Those were constant. Something to hold on to when sadness, or anger or disappointment strike, and something to relish and be grateful for, in moments of joy.

He would adopt that mindset, perhaps, or study it more up close in days to come. He had much to think about. For his life right now, had consisted of chasing happiness at any cost. Chasing comfort. Chasing emotions so fleeting that even while he had them, part of him always awaited their demise. It was no way to live. But he was also undisciplined, and thirsty of instant gratification.

Such thirst was precisely the reason for his current unfortunate predicament. And he had no one but himself to blame.

As the word 'curious' leaves Cersha's lips, he will frown. "I'm not --" a rookie mistake. "I'm not defending her. It is simply facts. Up until a moment ago you seemed to be fond of those." he should know better than to try reason his way out of this one. It was far too late for that.

What comes next, out of the mouth of his sister, leaves even his own jaw ajar. He knew her to be calculating, to be cold -- but he had never seen the sheer depth of her ruthlessness. He had almost, strangely so, admired it?

"The child lives." the words are quick, defensive, certain. And while he desired nothing more than to believe his sister was willing to do all of this for him, he had also known better. And he made note, not to ever cross her in his life again. The stakes were higher now, and the space for mistakes was growing smaller with every step Cersha took towards her ultimate goal.

Varyn shudders, at the decision he knows he's about to make, and his stomach turns as the heaviness of reality and impending responsibility weighs upon his tired shoulders. "I will marry her. And it shall be as you say."

CERSHA'S EYES ROLL SPECTACULARLY AT HER BROTHER'S EXCUSE FOR A JOKE . it is with a sigh that she moves to pinch at the bridge of her nose , that she replies , " whatever you need tell yourself , varyn ." despite spending near the entirety of her life with him , cersha could never understand the appeal of her brother . as much affection as she may grudgingly have for him it was mind boggling , truly . varyn was varyn , she saw him nakedly as he was and had no other choice but to accept him as that , after all , their blood demanded it . however , all others had a choice in this . and yet they chose varyn regardless . chose not to see the facade that was right in front of them . admittedly , it was times like these that leave cersha quite sure that all those around her were fools . she was sure that if the shoe was on the other foot she could see through varyn with ease . however , she supposes he would say the same for her . perhaps in some ways it was simply a byproduct of their upbringing . " i am not acting like a nervous fool ." cersha tone is near exasperated as she drops her hand , as she squints at him in vague annoyance before arching her brows to add , " this is actually a quite unfamiliar process to you called coherent thought . i hope that you might experience it at some point in the future , but at this point i do quite sincerely doubt it ." vaelora was a puzzle that cersha could solve . she was quite sure of it . after all , she had yet to come across a puzzle she couldn't solve . she'd be damned if the one she failed to was the dragon she was set to wed . " if necessary i intend to play a long game in order to obtain the power i have sought all my life , varyn , yes . perhaps the performance may not be needed forever , and perhaps it may not be absolute . but some part of vaelora seems to wish for something soft to protect . do i appear to be that to you ?" cersha snaps in annoyance at her brother's jabs , her eyes rolling with a scoff as he continues . it is with efficiency that she reaches for the nearest object to throw at him . luckily for him it happens to be the pillow on the chair she is sat at . " yes , well , i do not care what you want , varyn . thankfully , might i add ." she makes a face at him as she turns her attention back to her goblet , lifting it to add , " in fact , i'd rather delight in emulating the exact opposite of what you may want in a sister just to vex you further ." it occurs to her suddenly that she truly had no idea how the targaryens seemed to get along so well . did they not irritate each other ? was it all an act ? at the current moment she is quite sure she would trade her brother for an apple tart . " ah , yes , i am sure you are quite familiar with the later ." cersha brings her goblet to her lips with a roll of her eyes . it is only after a delicate sip that she brings her goblet back down to say , " i am quite familiar with the thin line between love and hate , varyn . however , it would be quite a gamble for me to emulate everything vaelora hates and expect her to love me . i do not particularly enjoy gambling with my fate where it is not necessary . leaving my wife-to-be's love for me up to the gods and chance ." a twist of her lips . " how can i trust in such things ? i trust in me , varyn ." a huff . " and if there is a surer path to victory i will take it ." an arch of her brows as her eyes meet his squarely . "so unless there is need to pivot —  to gamble — the plan will stay the same ."

despite herself , cersha can't say she's entirely unaffected by varyn's confidence . while she would do what she wished either way , and while her own confidence wouldn't waver for it , the belief that her family had in her only added to her pride . she would rather swallow a sword than admit it of course . but there was something to be said about having someone in her corner . cersha was notably not alone . lions move in packs after all . so she lets him tap his goblet to hers with a nod , her eyes sure until she is blinking at the strange question . her brows furrow . " happiness is fleeting , varyn ." cersha says simply as she moves to take a sip from her goblet . " i could be happy in the next candle mark and then deeply angry in the next two ." a shrug . " i'm sure there will be joy after my goal is achieved but what i know there will be is satisfaction . fulfilment ." cersha's spine straightens a bit then , a steely glint of triumph in her eyes as she says , " victory . that is more important than mere happiness to me ." she shrugs as she waves a hand dismissively . " and i'm sure happiness will come with it ." winning was something that cersha had become used to . it was a driving force . a goal , in all things . she would be victorious . she would be better . she would outsmart the competition , and then , once she stood on top of the defeated she would laugh at them from above . better . smarter . superior . after all , it is only the best who could seize what they wanted . and cersha was that . it was because she was the best that she was well suited to be queen . she was sure of it . and it was not merely a prize , her skills made her aligned with the position . once she was queen she would cement herself in history as the best at that too . after all, who was her competition . visenya ? it was laughable . she would trump viserys too whilst she was at it . aegon the first as well . and whoever else laid before her . in all honestly , it was fortuitous that cersha was in this position . if she wasn't perhaps she would be fighting for the spot of head of house . she may as well be , with how much of the family mess she took on . as varyn speaks her fingers come up to rub her temples . " enough . you disgust me and any more talk of your preferences in your conquests will have me prepared to lose the contents of my stomach ." cersha says as she brings her hand back down to her goblet , her finger trailing up and down the stem . her brows arch tiredly as her brother continues , her tone blunt as she says , " you see fit to defend her ?" cersha studies him briefly , before she's turning her attention to her wine with a simple, " how curious ." it is something to take note of , cersha supposes . her judgement was absolute in all things . very few were free from it . but it was interesting to note the individuals that people tried to shield from it . it spoke to innerworkings ; vulnerabilities . cersha takes note . if not for her own knowledge , then perhaps for varyn's sake . " yes , well , again i did expect you to father a thousand bastards ." cersha's eyes roll . " i suppose i should only be glad that it has taken this long . although , who's to say ? i certainly would not put it passed you to have more in the shadows , dear brother . perhaps some you are still even wholly unaware of ." another sigh as raises her goblet to take another healthy gulp . it is only once she's put the goblet back down and licked her lips of the bitterness that she says , " if i were truly anticipating my own stress i would have had you castrated long ago and been done with it ." it feels almost like an act of affection that she doesn't . after all , it was only the most logical of solutions , even if it were perhaps a bit messy . however , even now when varyn presumably has a heir to succeed him and will have little need for other children to follow , it is not an option she even truly entertains . she supposes love really does blind you .

cersha studies her brother as he speaks , her eyes scrutinizing as they scan every inch of his face from the way his eyes avoid hers to the careful sip of wine he takes . cersha studies thoroughly and files away . cersha takes only a moment to bask in the position of power she holds in this moment . at the act of her brother needing her help and asking for it . for a younger sister this was quite something to brag over . if only it wasn't also so deeply frustrating . " if she loves the child , then we can use that to our advantage ." cersha says simply then , tone cool with rationale as she eyes her brother with a hawklike gaze . her brow arches . " we can take quite a literal approach to that and threaten said child . a mother's instincts are usually quite predictable ." cersha shrugs as she moves to take a sip from her goblet . " 'speak on this and you both shall suffer' is a simple enough solution , so that is an option ." she gestures to her brother with her goblet then , meeting his eyes to say , " however , if we truly wanted to be rid of the problem , the child could die ." another shrug . " however , if it is tied back to us that may make enemies of the daynes , and that would be rather unfortunate . but it does close the book on this , if that is what you prefer ." cersha hums thoughtfully . she swirls the wine in her goblet with lazy twists of her wrist . she has little intention to actually kill a child . after all , such a thing was truly a last resort . death was a messy option . it left trails of blood in its wake and unless one was very , very careful that trail tended to lead towards equally bloody hands . cersha was very careful . but even still . " however , if this woman loves you or if you can make her love you , as you seem to so freely boast about ." cersha's eyes roll as she waves a hand dismissively towards her brother . " then make her love you anew . come to her in the night in the picture of romance and profess sweet nothings to her ." cersha gestures with her goblet . " tell her you have made a grave mistake and wish to be a family , that this all made you realize the error of your ways ; whatever it takes , you understand . and once you have been sufficiently convincing , get on a knee and propose . in private of course ." cersha meets varyn's eyes pointedly . " and once that is done we will have you both wed . secretly of course . i can have the papers forged to reflect a different date , that is of little consequence . you can both announce it after the announcement of my own betrothal . you will not steal this moment from me , varyn ." cersha makes sure to meet her brothers eyes pointedly again as she gestures to him with her goblet . " ... and once that is done you can spin the tale that you were both so deeply in love that you married during your time in dorne ." the words are accompanied with nonsensical flourishes of her hand , cersha's tone becoming mocking as she mimics the fools that surround her as she says , " and would you look ! such love has resulted in such a beautiful child ! oh hurrah , oh hurray . wine ! celebration !" another roll of cersha's eyes before she shrugs and says , " and with that it is done and you are a father , varyn . congratulations ." it is with a sigh that cersha sits back in her seat , brow arching as she looks at her brother then . there is a curious part of her that wants to test his own judgement . her brows arch . " so , what will it be then ? threat , death , or marriage ?"

[domoz]

Not sure how simple/detailed you wanted the prompts, but maybe: Hikaku needs Tobirama to look over a trade agreement or some such, but finds him during Uncle Tobirama and Senju-prince/princess time? How awkward or horrifying or good at it Tobirama is at being a babysitter, you may decide!

It's Take Your Niece To Work Day!!

Hikaku pauses only briefly as he steps into the office.

Tobirama is there, as expected; the pink-haired child sitting in his lap and staring right at him is not. He doesn't ask the obvious question -- Tobirama wouldn't appreciate it.

"I have the counter-offer from Rice Country, if you have time to go over it right now?" He doesn't ask as confidently as he would otherwise. If Tobirama didn't have his niece in his lap, it wouldn't be a question at all.

"Ah, good. Yes, bring it here."

Hikaku might hesitate a moment, but there's no real argument he can make against it, so he does.

Sitting across from Tobirama balancing numbers is not an unusual way for Hikaku to spend his time and the tries to keep his focus, truly, but the toddler in Tobirama's lap babbles something unintelligible and in response her uncle starts bouncing his knee to entertain her. She giggles, which Hikaku must not do a good enough job at ignoring, because Tobirama, though he doesn't look up from his work actually acknowledges her presence with an explanation.

"There was an issue with her caretaker." He says, and then, realizing how ominous such a vague statement must sound, continues, "Hashirama has been handling that scheduling himself while Mito is traveling."

Tobirama gave up on trying to salvage his brother's dignity to Hikaku about one months into getting to witness his dramatics firsthand. Today, the Hokage is currently entertaining envoys from the capitol and must have passed the problem on to his brother. If that's how it is, then he'll have no right to act surprised when he finds out Tobirama brought her to work.

"I see…" Hikaku says, and shakes himself into responding instead of staring at the clear fondness in Tobirama's expression when he glances down at the child, "Well, this isn't particularly time sensitive, so it's no trouble for me to come back later…"

But Tobirama only shakes his head.

"No need. We're getting plenty done, aren't we?"

Maybe he is. Before Hikaku can respond, the toddler babbles again, finishing her statement with a very assertive, "Ji!"

This is apparently a demand that Tobirama understands, because he reaches into a desk drawer to take the stamp he uses to sign off on documents. Since it's Tobirama's, of course there's some kind of seal on it making it so that it doesn't need to be re-inked. He hands it to his niece who begins stamping away at the paper he sets out for her (and the surrounding desk) with delight.

He's far more indulgent of her than Hikaku expected, and something about it makes his heart clench, which he summarily ignores by forcing himself to look back at his own paperwork. Trying to calculate tariffs and taxes is much harder with such a distraction in the room, but he does manage it for a while -- until Tobirama's niece decides that she's bored of making art and wriggles out of her uncles lap.

It's nearly impossible not to lose focus when a toddler has crept her way around the edge of a desk and is staring at you, or so Hikaku would argue. Tobirama is clearly keeping an eye on her but otherwise carries on calculating transportation costs, saying nothing about the way Hikaku has paused in his own work.

With narrow-eyed determination, she abandons the cover of the desk to take two unsteady steps over to Hikaku and grab onto his mantle.

"Ah." He says, looking down. "Hello."

"Aa." She answers.

Tobirama doesn't make a sound, but he's covered his mouth as though he might feel the need to muffle one, or maybe like he's trying to hide his expression.

"She's not normally so willing to approach strangers." He says from behind his hand.

She makes another unintelligible sound, but raises her hands. The meaning is clear enough: pick me up.

Hikaku should probably not pick up the Hokage's daughter, but he glances at Tobirama who is clearly hiding a smile behind that hand from the way his eyes are crinkled and immediately relents. She squeals in delight and immediately grabs for the chains that hang over his shoulders.

Tobirama's composure finally breaks, and his shoulders shake in a soundless laught.

"It's a shame you're always so busy." He says, "I could recommend you as a babysitter."

"So are you," Hikaku counters, "And yet here we are."

Tobirama only hums. And busy as he is, Hikaku will stay in his office an extra hour, because his niece has decided to fall asleep in his lap.

[goldentigerfestival]

Yuri's dialogue (JP) is so fascinating to study, like... the repetitive use of certain words/phrases that others use sparingly but he uses constantly. the way it feels like his vocabulary is more expansive than what he uses, but he defaults to a "comfort" level of speech. the way it mixes in with his sort of "street talk" words and the sheer level of informality. the way his "street talk" phrasing is contrasted by the tone of his voice (on that note, people I know who also know JP are also very endeared by these aspects of him so I KNOW IT'S NOT JUST ME!!!).

'cause the thing is, he uses phrases that yeah, other people do use, but he uses a handful over and over and over (contrast to other characters' sparing use of repetition). it's actually... really refreshing? it sounds more relatable and less "video game/anime/JRPG/RPG" writing or something, idk. like closer to how a real person would speak.

I do my best in my translations not to make things sound too stiff across the board, but Yuri makes it so easy. it's why I'm so interested in translating all his lines in Vesperia, like... the actual, original tone for him with his original wording because it's smth Eng only players don't get to experience ('cause even if you listen with JP audio, if you don't know the language, ofc you're gonna miss out on context. it's nobody's fault for not knowing, just... they unfortunately miss out). the thing is, there are a lot of times when the lines in and of themselves are not contextually incorrect in the English ver (usually the situation for smaller scenes, because they altered the text outright for more important stuff which was the stuff that originally set me off, but there were also plenty of cases of just vocal tone shifting with the correct context that still gave off the wrong impression), but Yuri's tone is shifted away from the original in Eng even though it's completely and perfectly translatable.

I am by no means about to translate the entire game because let's face it, I really don't care that much for Vesperia on the whole. I'm kinda stuck with it because Yuri's there lo and behold I actually am WAY more engaged in his stories in Rays, Link and Asteria because it's an amazing character put into circumstances where he actually gets to shine and feels more alive, which Vesperia did not provide nearly as well with its very disjointed story. also, Tales gachas have banger stories that are arguably better than the mainline games, and they regularly make Yuri a very central character to the gachas. Crestoria was also about to do it until they pulled the plug on that game and I'm pretty confident something interesting has been lost to the world. also I just generally don't have the energy or motivation to do that, so... I'll only be focusing on Yuri's lines, especially because his stuff is where the bulk of the messing around was. he's just insanely fun to translate for and I love burying myself head first into his speech.

will I actually finish this project? dunno. will I get around to posting it? whatever I get done (so all of it if I complete it), and if I decide to call it quits then I'll post what I have at the time I decide that. will it take a long time? probably, but I can always mention stuff along the way...

[nerdyfangirlingbooks]

I've had a stupid merlin au idea stuck in my head for days now and I know I'll never get around to writing it the way I want it written but I kinda wanna try anyway even though I am 100% of the target audience

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

What would the prime tails think about modern tails?

Interesting...

Well, anon, I'll be real with you. From what I've gathered thus far, Modern Tails' characterization is inconsistent at best, so I think it would depend upon which game Prime!Tails gets to know Modern Tails from.

For example, I think if we look at Sonic Adventure Tails, given the fact that Prime does incorporate games canon into its timeline (despite the confirmation that it DOES take place within the games timeline, with the inconsistencies that also poses with timeline stuff and characterization I think it's more helpful to analyze what games canon it clearly pulls from to form its own canon) Prime!Tails would see himself in this version of Modern Tails. Sonic Adventure Era version of Modern Tails strikes me as a plausible younger version of Prime!Tails if you only look at Prime itself and don't consider that Prime is meant to fit within games canon.

Likewise, if Prime Tails looked from SA era Tails, to Sonic Boom Tails, to Sonic Lost World Tails, to Sonic Forces Tails, and then to Sonic Frontiers Tails, I think the inconsistencies in characterization would also probably confuse him a bit (basically, "if these are all 'modern Tails' why are they so different in how they act or how independent they are?"). I think Prime!Tails can absolutely understand any given version of Modern!Tails' wish to be able to be as strong as Sonic and stand on his own. I get the vibe from Prime!Tails (especially compared to Nine) that he is a valued part of the team and can pull his own weight fighting, but that he isn't as effective as Sonic on his own (unlike Nine, who had to both learn to be effective in combat AND in strategic planning). So, to me, Prime!Tails is in sort of this in between phase. He can keep up with Sonic, he can fight on the front lines with others, he can sit back and play strategist or give advice, and he builds tools and fixes the Tornado, but (either perhaps from settling into his current role for so long or from coming this far only to stagnate) he isn't quite to the level of hero who can work alone and at Sonic's side effectively. In this way, I think he can understand how SA1/SA2 era and Sonic Frontiers Era Tails feel.

So...I guess my verdict is this. Prime!Tails would be simultaneously confused by the inconsistencies in characterization, but I think he'd actively try to sympathize with the versions of Modern Tails (either by relating to them with his past or his present as well as he can). With that being said, though, we unfortunately didn't get to see much of Prime!Tails in Sonic Prime Canon, so I think I could have a more solid answer if we perhaps knew more about him.

[s0dium]

THAT'S A RED FLAG BABY

JJK MEN AND RED FLAGS

A/n: Yessirrrr MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Synopsis: Jujutsu men and their red flag in a relationship or generally and how it shows through when they fuck

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Yuuta Okkatsu, Sukuna Ryomen, Choso

Warnings: Emotional abuse, narcissism, controlling behavior, dub-con, semi-public sex, spitting, fingering, rough sex, male masturbation, degrading, praise, teasing

~

Gojo Satoru- Narcissist  

Since he was a kid, Gojo has been praised and called many things

The honored one, the strongest, gifted and so on

But what people don't see is behind those beautiful sapphire eyes, is a goddamn narcissist through and through

He thinks, no he knows that he is the best, best at everything

This includes what goes on in bed.

And its not only that, the white-haired fox only cares about himself too in the sheets, abusing his unnatural stamina and using you like a cock sleeve for his own taste

At least he can be nice about it sometimes

Gojo is relentless. Its almost like your his personal cock sleeve, his dick shaping your insides and abusing your cervix despite your choked sobs and whines for him to stop, to simply slow down. He holds the back of your head with his hand, allowing you to look down at the way you two are connected; how he retracts his hips until his tip barely pokes out, admiring the slick coating his shaft before slamming back into you again.

"Ahhh~ P-please Satoru please...."

Gojo rolls his eyes and scoffs. Why were the people that surrounded him always so weak? Even you. It's a good thing you feel like heaven he could almost forgive you.

Tears stream down your face. Every time the tip of his dick rams against your cervix a powerful feeling mixed with pain and pleasure that surges through your body making you tremble and shake. You're losing your mind. Everything is so good, and, God, you can't ignore how handsome Gojo looks right now. His white hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, and the muscles of his toned abdomen are flexing and unflexing. He is gorgeous, and, boy, he knows it. Even the way your pussy squeezes and spasms around his dick sends more bolts of electric pleasure to dance through your skim.

"Shhhh, just take it 'kay? You're doing so good for me baby." Gojo coos.

Geto Suguru -Controlling

It starts off small, a comment here and there on your choice of friends, a small criticism on where you were going to spend the evening because wouldn't you have much more fun spending it with him?

Then he's starting to pick out outfits for you. Modest but pretty ones for outside but short skimpy clothes for when you're only with him. It even gets to the point where he is controlling your finances, making you only use his credit card, and its not about the money, you can use as much as you want for all he cares. It's about the control, you being helplessly reliant on him.

And Geto has such an easy time getting away with his controlling tendencies, showering you in praises and sweet nothings about how he just wants to protect you. And the way his violet eyes gleam at you, you almost always believe him.

Don't for a second think that he's insecure because it's far from it. The raven-haired man just wants to have you all to himself, he just wants to protect you from the cruel cruel world out there.

"Didn't I tell you to ask me first if you are going to wear an outfit like that?" Geto whispers in your ear but you can barely focus on his words. The curl of his fingers inside you is just too numbing; the way it hits, prods, and massages a spot deep inside your walls that you can only dream about reaching on your own. Geto's fingers are so thick too, almost filling you up as deliciously as his dick does. Almost. "Mmm- I- I, I didn't-" You gasp for air and try to bury your face into your hands. He currently has you against a wall of some bathroom stall but that fact seemed all but lost to you right now. The pleasure was building in your core and fast. Your legs were starting to shake and a numbing electric feeling had taken course throughout your body. You didn't have to open your eyes to know that Geto was smirking.

Suddenly, Goto curls his fingers in a way that deeply presses your g-spot and the dam of pleasure that had built inside you breaks. Your jaw goes slack and your whole body trembles with electricity.

"Didn't expect for you to crack so easily" he chuckles against your ear, and you collapse into his chest. Yuta Okkatsu- Too obsessed

You would think this is a good thing right? You could never love someone too much, but it was different with Yuuta

Sure you had a crush on him, sure you touched yourself to him plenty of times (which Yuuta knew of very well) so the feelings weren't all that unreciprocated

But theres a line, there's a line that Yuta always seems to cross

From taking pictures of you to texting you constantly, christ you even found your panties in his drawer, yuta love was overwhelming.

Yuuta knows that he should wake you up, but he cant bring himself too right now. You just look so beautiful, so perfect under the soft glow of the night sky. Also, he just feels so good right now, Yuuta can barely think so much as speak. "Mmmm-mmm" he whimpers against the pillow, slowly grinding his clothed erection against your bare leg. How would you react if you knew your boyfriend was humping you while you sleep? Would you push him away? No no you're too kind for that, you would probably help him, probably pet his hair and whisper sweet nothings until he finished. Yes, if he knew for a fact that you'd help him when you wake up, what's stopping you from helping you now? Careful not to wake you up, he picks up your hand. It's so small compared to his but wraps so well around his throbbing member. He glides your thumb across his red tip to collect the precum before slowly sliding your hand up and down. The pleasure is immediate. It makes him bury his face into your neck to to press sloppy, wet, hot, and bitten kisses along your skin.

Sukuna Ryomen- Sadist

Where to start with Sukuna. Sukuna is the red flag.

Actually, even that is a complete understatement. Sukuna is straight-up cruel, rather he is a sadist through and through.

Manipulation, degrading, humiliation....although he wouldn't physically abuse you, with emotional abuse he won't hesitate.

You expect compassion, sympathy, and kindness from him? Fat chance. It is hard to see Sukuna being in any relationship at all.

Sukuna certainly doesn't love you, but he sure does love the sex though

Like any good sadist, his sexual pleasure derives from your physical or emotional suffering.

"Aw look at you, fucked you dumb did I?" Sukuna chuckles. A tattooed hand snakes between to your cunt, lightly rubbing your clit before delivering a sharp slap to the nerve.

Your eyes widen and your hips instantly buck up, unintentionally sending his dick deeper into you. The position he has you in is brutal. Both of your legs are thrown over Sukuna's shoulders and pressed against your chest, effectively folding you in half. "Open ya mouth" He orders, but you are too lost in the pleasure that is blooming in your stomach, the pleasure that is making your cunt flutter and squeeze desperately around his fat cock. "I said open." Sukuna delivers a particularly harsh thrust before stilling inside you; keeping the tip of his dick smushed against your cervix. The sudden movement snaps you out of your haze and you obediently widen your mouth letting your tongue hang out. Sukuna lets a glob of spit fall from his lips onto your awaiting tongue. You don't need to be told to swallow, you do so on habit, giving him a soft smile as you do so.

"Fuck, ya so perfect, such a good girl."

Choso- Jealous 

Choso is the type of man who keeps to himself. The type of man to blend in a group or fade into the background.

But that doesn't mean he notices things. In fact, he notices things a bit too well.

Was that your coworker who touched your shoulder? You say that he is just a friend but who should a friend be able to touch you so easily?

He won't hesitate to bring up what he notices either, he says he's not accusing you of anything, that he trusts you, but he totally is.

He hates it when people get to close to his brothers so it posits that he loathes it when it comes to his lover.

How did you get here? How did an argument turn into this?

You want to scream, you want to thrash and tell Choso that he's got it all wrong, that you didn't mean to see your guy friend when you went out to have lunch. It was just a harmless bump-in that turned into a long conversation. Thats it. But the feeling of Choso's dick filling you up, his harsh thrusts and the fucking delicious friction of the drag, Jesus, it's just- it's just so good your mind that your mind is a white sheet.

You are on all fours but you don't know how much longer you can keep the position up. Not with the way he's ramming your pussy from behind.

“You are mine," he grunts out, pumping into you, the length and level of his arousal is brutal. "Mine," he swears, and he pulls you up so your back is pressed against him and you are upright. Choso doesn’t slow his movement though, giving you full, hard thrusts, your breasts bouncing up and down from the harshness of it all.

“You wanna cum? Good, cum."

[risuola]

I — NOT YET // When a guy in the club tries to assault you, you ask a random stranger to pretend to be your boyfriend. Little that you know that out of all people, you chose a mob boss.

contents: smut, mafia!au, briefly mentioned assault and tiny bit of violence, Sukuna (yeah, I consider him a warning), reader discretion is advised — 2,7k words

a/n: mada... mada mada~ the very second I heard this menace toying with Panda, Kusakabe and the rest in Shibuya, not allowing them to move unless he say so - my head went straight to the idea of him playing the same game in bed.

ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist

Sukuna never had to get used to being interrupted. Never. Anytime it happened in the past, all he had to do was to glance at the person and it usually got the message across. His gaze has enough power in it to quickly inform the intruder why invading his personal space or cutting him half-sentence is a damn bad idea. One look from him usually was enough to make anyone reconsider if they really want some problems. Sukuna had his eyes trained to be sharp and cold, his body strong and intimidating and his aura dangerous. He spent years building his reputation, earning a position in his world that now guaranteed him calm.

Now everyone and their mothers know that he’s not the one to cross paths with. He’s a VIP, he’s allowed everywhere and he has no qualms about killing someone. Ryomen Sukuna is a brand, he’s a threat, he’s untouchable, invincible. No one in the right mind would ever try to start anything with him at this point. That’s why, when he tried to relax in one of many clubs that he owns in Tokyo, he couldn’t believe someone had the guts to push onto him at the bar.

“Hey, sorry, can you please pretend to be my boyfriend for a second?”, he heard near his ear and following the sound and the soft tug on his elbow, he turned his head towards you. Lucky girl, he thought while quickly assessing the view. You were too god damn pretty to be killed, looking at him with those pleading eyes that glistened in the harsh artificial lights. You were visibly scared of something, or someone, and oddly enough it wasn’t him who brought you to the verge of tears.

“Your boyfriend, huh?”, he mused, allowing his eyes to trail down your figure. The dress you had on left little to imagination and yet he wished to tear it off to see more of you. It hugged the shapes of your body perfectly and the silky fabric betrayed the lack of bra underneath. You were attractive, but clearly not smart enough to think twice before approaching a stranger.

“Please, I beg you, this guy—“, you tried to explain, squeezing your perfectly manicured fingers around his veiny forearm, but your sentence was cut in half when a man grabbed you by the waist, pulling you away just a little and harshly pressing your back against the bar. Sukuna watched as you winced when your spine hit the edge of the wooden countertop, he watched for a moment how you tried to push the guy away. With no effect, you weren’t strong enough to stand against him, you were trapped between the unwanted body and the furniture behind you, fighting the hungry hands that were groping your figure.

“Naoya, get off of me—” you tried, pushing his face away from where he was trying to suck a spot onto your neck.

“Oh, shut up woman, I know you want it,” the blonde-ish idiot grinned, twisting your arm enough to make a space for himself. He wasn’t bothered in the least with the fact he was trying to get between your legs in the very center of a club. Sukuna’s club.

Ryomen zeroed the whisky in his glass and got up from the chair. Usually, he would ignore situations like this. Other people’s problems were none of his business and he had enough his own things to take care of, to bother himself with anything else, but you. You were a problem he was willing to explore.

“Zenin, huh?”, he asked, connecting the name he heard falling from your lips with the wannabe gangster he heard about many times before. There was a certain reputation tied to Naoya’s name, mostly regarding his treatment of women but as long as he wasn’t touching his women, Sukuna couldn’t care less about this trash of a man. You definitely were not his woman. Yet.

“The fuck you want, I’m busy,” Zenin groaned, pulling his nasty mouth away from your shoulder for just a moment, only to shot a glare to the club owner.

“I can tell that you’re busy,” Ryomen grabbed one of Naoya’s wrists. It wasn’t looking like a hard grip, but the face of the blonde betrayed the sharp, bone-breaking pain he felt.

You felt some kind of relief when the stranger you just met stepped between you and your unwanted date. The large body of him towered above you completely, he was bigger than you thought when you approached his sitting form, but you couldn’t think about it for too long when he dealt with Naoya so easily. Once the blonde was gone, he turned to you.

Your heart skipped few beats once you took the image in. The man was huge, way taller than you and built like a greek god. The sharp outlines of his muscled torso beautifully showed through the dark graphite dress shirt. Looking up, you could finally see his face clearly. His features were attractive, dangerous with the black tattooed lines around them. He could easily be a gangster or something.

“T-thank you,” you spoke finally, snapping out from the initial impression of him. He was a red flag, you knew that. If not for the circumstance, you’d probably be the first to run away from him. He was hot. An absolute smokeshow, but he was certainly bad news.

“Was he your date?”, he asked, pulling a chair that he was sitting on previously and twisting it to position, before his large hands landed on your hips. There was no effort whatsoever when he lifted you and sat you down on the seat. He opted to stand next to you.

“No… I came here with a friend, but she left earlier. I was just about to leave as well, but this guy stopped me,” you sighed. “He wouldn’t let me go, I was afraid that he’ll just walk after me to my home. I’m sorry I interrupted you.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. The gesture in itself was soft, but you shivered underneath his touch nonetheless. You couldn’t quite tell what made him so… scary. Was it his overwhelming frame? Or maybe the calm, distant demeanor? He had authority, he was expecting submission and when he was looking at you, you felt like a prey of him. Strangely, you were quite fine with that. You had no wish of doing anything with Naoya, but this man… he was different, he was interesting, he made you cross your legs just to feel any kind of pressure between your thighs. “Your name?”

“Y/n,” you replied.

“Y/n. Nice,” he gave it a soft nod and ordered two drinks. “Ryomen is my name. Sukuna Ryomen. Memorize it.”

“Sure…”

At this moment, you had no guts to ask why was it important to imprint the name he told you into your brain, but it all became clear just barely two hours later. You couldn’t exactly recall the moment Sukuna led you out of the club and into his car. There was something so enticing about his entire aura that made you lose your ability to think. He made you break every rule you ever had for yourself – to not talk with strangers, not go with them anywhere. Before that night you were doing exceptionally good in avoiding danger, you somehow slipped through your life up until that point without any major problems, but once you faced the problem, it was a big one.

The talk was good, it flowed easily and the menacing aura that Ryomen had all around him kept you interested. You had no idea that you’re attracted to bad boys, and maybe you were not exactly into school hooligans. Turned out, you’re aroused by the much worse kind – the kind that keeps a gun behind his belt, drinks pure whisky and makes people run away just by shooting them a glance. Yeah, that seems to be the kind of men you are into, because if there was any common sense left in you, you’d be out the door and running towards the safety of your dormitory. If there was any self-preservation instinct in you, you’d be probably anywhere else, rather than in here.

In the most luxurious house you’ve ever seen, not to mention been inside of; somewhere in the outskirts of Tokyo where you were not even sure how you can get back to your home from there. If you were just a little smarter, you’d for sure be in your own bed right now and not on the dark leather couch, with your silky dress scrunched up around your waist and your underwear torn to pieces and laying on the floor. If you had more braincells, maybe you wouldn’t be bouncing on that stranger’s dick right now, gripping onto his muscular shoulders as one of his large hands kept your hip in a dead grip, leading your moves up and down his girthy length and the other one tightly squeezed around the back of your neck, from where he was keeping his head close so he could kiss you so hungrily it took your breath away. But that’s just where you were. And you wouldn’t change a thing.

He felt so goddamn good, filling your tight hole to the very brim, stretching you to the point of delirium and he wasn’t even fully in yet. His moves were aggressive and yet sensual; he made you feel small even if it was you who was on top of him. You had no control, he made it clear with the way he was holding you and every time you tried to dominate him in any way, he quickly showed you your place back. Maybe later, he’ll let you have your way with him, but now, he was in charge.

“Think you can take all of me?” He asked against the delicate skin of your neck, now painted in red and purple marks he nibbed onto it. You could feel him grinning at the way you squeezed your little hands on his clothed biceps. He got you all exposed and yet he only allowed you to free his dick; his shirt was still buttoned up, his pants were still on his legs. There was a certain dominance shown in the way he got you all naked on top of his suit.

“N-no,” you breathed out, “too big.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can.” Sukuna doesn’t exactly accept no as an answer and he for sure gave you enough time to accommodate to his size. “You’ll take it and thank me for it, yeah?”

“Yes,” was all you could mumble, before both of his large hands landed on your hips. The iron grip, you were sure, was going to bruise you but now, it felt grounding in a way.

“Good girl,” he praised, his purr vibrated against your skin as he sucked yet another mark along your collarbone. It distracted you for a moment before he pushed your pelvis even lower, fully bottoming into you. Your clit made a contact with his lower belly, the harsh brush of his skin against the swollen bud making you moan louder than you were meaning to. You felt like all of your organs were moved out of the way just to make more space for his dick and Sukuna couldn’t be more satisfied by the way you took him in. “See? As if you were made to take this cock.”

Something incoherent left your mouth, a tear stained your cheek and the man was happy to lick it away, tasting the saltiness before he bucked his hips up, keeping yours in place. He took full control, thrusting into you with all the power he had in his muscular body and you held onto his shoulders with your little hands. The filthy, wet sounds were filling the interiors, bouncing off the walls and mixing with all of the whines and whimpers that were leaving your lips. Some grunts added to the melody, but you barely heard any of it, too consumed by the exploding pleasure between your legs.

Sukuna’s name was leaving your mouth like a prayer, you felt so close, you felt like falling and you had no intention to stop. The man grinned, licking a long stroke along your throat, his tongue curling upwards as it reached the tip of your chin. The taste of your skin felt intoxicating to him, he wanted to devour you whole, to keep all for himself.

“You wanna cum, huh?” His voice was taunting. “You’re clenching around me so fucking hard, you’re gonna milk me as well.”

“Yes, yes, please,” you near damn begged, chasing the bliss that you could almost taste on your tongue right now. It filled all of your body cells, rushed through your veins in ecstatic waves of lust.

“Not yet,” he ordered and it felt almost painful to force yourself back from the state of climax. You could tell he was playing with you, toying with his dominance, reminding you that it’s him who pulls the strings in here. And yet, he was still rutting into you, his movements completely different to what he was saying, he was fucking you like he wanted you to cum in that very moment. “Still not yet,” he teased, feeling your little fingers digging onto his shoulders, your manicured nails nearly making holes in his shirt as your eyes fell shut.

“Oh god, Ryomen, please,” you whined. Your thighs were shaking, your spine arching and the incredible tension below your stomach threatened to burst any second now.

“Now,” he ordered and just like that, all inside of you snapped. You came all over his dick, and you came hard. It felt like nothing you’ve ever experienced, like you were suddenly shot into another dimension and if not for the way he sped up his movements, you’d probably just get lost in the lustful feeling. Ryomen came just few moments after you, wrapping his arms around your waist and painting your walls white. You felt him throbbing, spasming inside of you, the hot seed gushed out of you as he was pumping it in, staining your thighs and the bottom of his black shirt. Then he pushed you down, fully onto his cock, plugging the way out for his cum.

You found his lips, swallowing his quickened breath as you kissed him with desire and he gave in, quickly dominating the kiss. You were tired, the muscles in your legs were burning from the intense exercise, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling of still wanting more. He made you hungry, he made you unsatiated and you were sure, you won’t be able to recognize yourself after you’re done with him. You were never such a greedy lover but frankly, you never had a chance to feel that good with anyone. The boys you’ve been with had no skills and if not for the orgasms you gave yourself with your fingers, no one else ever brought you over the edge like Sukuna.

“Can you undress?” You asked him, your lips brushing against his as you mouthed the question and he chased your kiss with his head, grabbing your lower lip between his teeth. There was a certain expression painted all over his dangerously handsome features, the menacing aura amplified as he took his sweet time before replying.

“I can undress,” he began, yet there was a but hanging in the air. He had conditions and you were open to hear them. “I’ll give you two options, little kitten. Wanna hear ‘em?”

“Yes.”

“I won’t undress. You can pull yourself together and I can drive you back to your home now. But I can also take the suit off, carry you to my bed. Then you’ll stay with me till morning, but don’t have any hopes for a calm sleep, no. The night will be as filthy as it can get. You’ll be sore tomorrow, most likely exhausted.”

You blinked hearing the options. It was clear as day, stop there or continue? You knew the answer already, your body decided for you even before he came up with an offer.

“Will you drive me home as well if I pick the second option?”

“Of course.”

“Then let’s get you naked.”

[absolutely-esme]

I have seen too many posts where a time traveling member of the JL decides to kill Danny to prevent Dan from happening and not nearly enough where they decide to kill Vlad for the same reason.

Even if a hero was pushed to the point of preemptively killing one of the two people Dan was made from in order to prevent his creation, why would they pick the one who is currently both a hero and a kid instead of the one who's already a villain and a grown ass adult?

Also, it would be so much more fun to read about Vlad getting hunted down by Booster Gold or scrambling to try and stay one step ahead of the world's fastest man while desperately trying to figure out which of his evil schemes they found out and got this hero's attention and pissed them off this much.

Was it bugging his nemesis's house? He can see how that probably looks bad out of context, but he swears the video surveillance of a teenager's bedroom was regular supervillain creepiness, not other types of creepiness!

Edit: Two things.

First off, my wording about having seen too many of the other thing was intended playfully. I am not putting those fics down. You don't have to justify it to me, and I am genuinely sorry if I came across as antagonistic. I think everyone should be allowed to write whatever they want and I don't expect it all to adhere to my likes and dislikes.

That said, I wanted to address something else. I've gotten a few different people just talking about how they would have no reason to target Vlad because of what looks like an older version of Danny, and I wanted to clarify.

Here's the thing: Dan does not look like an older version of Danny, he looks like a fusion of Danny and Vlad.

Unless someone they have reason to believe tells them that Danny grows up to be Dan, there's no reason for them to assume that Danny and Dan are the same person (especially considering that Dan is a name the fans came up with and not something the character himself went by).

So this time traveler sees a teen hero fighting an adult villain both of whom share differing physical characteristics with the Future threat, and the most likely conclusion to draw is that it's a Conner scenario.

Alternately, maybe they did actual research on the origins of the threat before time traveling instead of just hoping that murdering the first person they saw with a familial-level resemblance to the threat would prevent him from going on a rampage.

Here are some pictures of them

See how much Dan gets from Vlad's side?

[neon-sunsets]

okay. let’s talk about jayce’s monologue, since people are calling him ableist.

for context, not that it matters: I have a significant mobility disability and a progressive chronic illness which, even when managed, can kill me. I’m not in exactly the same boat as viktor since my disease isn’t terminal, but I’ve had very similar experiences to him. this shapes my perception of him and of this storyline.

this is the monologue:

You’ve always wanted to cure what you thought were weaknesses. Your leg. Your disease. But you were never broken, Viktor. There’s beauty in imperfections. They made you what you are. An inseparable piece of everything I admired about you.

first, it should be noted that “what you thought were weaknesses” is not the same thing as “things that are good.” jayce is not saying that viktor’s disease is or was a good thing. what he is saying is that he admired (loved) everything that viktor was, which included the things viktor thought made him a burden or a problem. remember also that jayce almost doomed the world because he couldn’t let viktor die; he would never imply that viktor dying was a good thing.

the next question, then, is whether viktor sees himself as a burden or not. I think it’s implied that he does — it’s certainly not unrealistic to think that viktor might have come to view himself, or at least his disease, as a burden and a flaw. disabled people often view ourselves that way either because of internalized ableism or because society constantly tells us that we’re burdens and that our bodies are abnormal and wrong. viktor displays behaviors that indicate internalized ableism, including hiding the fact that he’s coughing up blood from jayce the first few times it happens and generally refusing to be in the public eye in a way that is self-effacing and not just him being private. yes, he says in act 1 of season 1 that he believes in himself, but he does also call himself a cripple in a dismissive way in that same scene; also, he doesn’t have the disease at that point. arguably the entire scene where he runs despite clearly being in pain is an example of his internalized ableism, but that’s another post.

more evidence for viktor’s perception of himself being negative is that he clearly has a sense that he doesn’t deserve to be loved (specifically by jayce, but maybe also in general). we see this when he asks jayce why he’s still persisting in saving him. we see this with his generally self-effacing behavior. we see this with the fact that in all of season 1, the only person he allows to touch him is jayce, and that the only person he actively touches in the entire show is jayce. viktor is reserved and not good with his emotions, which is a huge part of his arc this season. all of these behaviors point to him having a negative self-perception.

I think it’s important to really consider how jayce perceives viktor and how viktor perceives himself. I don’t think this season handled everything perfectly, but I think they handled this very well. viktor has been written with a fullness and complexity that most disabled characters don’t ever get. him being morally grey doesn’t mean he’s “problematic” or “bad representation.” obviously I’m only one disabled person, but I really love jayce and viktor and I think their story is beautifully written.

[paarksunghoon]

Jake finally taking you after months of uncertainty whether you like him or not. Pushing you against a wall, rough and passionate making out, and him being a softdom. Pleaseeeeeeee.

i imagined jake wearing glasses 😋 bonus points if the neighbors are heeseung, jay and sunghoon and they all hear jake fuck you lol

***

It all started with a stupid semester project.

Jake hates group work. He hates relying on people and he hates when his partners don’t complete their portion of the work. Jake thinks they’re lazy and good-for-nothing, even though he knows he’s being dramatic. He hates being the only person to contribute to the Google doc and he loathes it when the grade is dependent on everyone as a whole and not individually.

He meets you in Advanced Research Methods. It’s a required class for mathematical and physics majors in order to graduate, and Jake has pushed off taking it for as long as he could because he hates the idea of researching data with a partner. He knows the professor well enough to assume that there would be group work (he assumes correctly) but absolutely nothing could’ve prepared him from laying eyes on you for the first time.

When Dr. Kang announces the partners for the semester-long research project, Jake’s tapping his pen against his leg when he starts to hear names being called out. His ears perk up when he hears his own. When your name is said, Jake looks up and finds that you’re staring right at him.

You look so put together. Jake doesn’t know what it is about you that makes you look like you’ve got it all figured out. Maybe it’s because your hair looks particularly neat compared to all of the other people sitting around him. Perhaps it’s your laptop and notebook right next to it. Whatever it is, he finds himself a bit nervous to inevitably approach you in order to begin working on the project.

Dr. Kang allows the students to mingle and get to know one their project partners during the last ten minutes of class to exchange information. When you take initiative to walk to where Jake is sitting and occupy the seat next to him, he finds himself stuttering.

“H-Hey,” he says pathetically. You’re prettier up close.

“Hi! Jake, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“Here’s my phone. Why don’t you put your number in.”

Jake’s hands are almost shaking as he holds your phone between his hands and settles with ‘Jake Sim - Research Methods’ as his contact so you remember him. When he hands it back to you, he watches you type away before he feels his own phone buzz.

Unknown Number: hi! it’s yn.

He saves the contact quickly before class ends and the two of you decide to wait until the next class to set a time to meet to work on the project.

Jake’s worries about group projects disappear when he begins working with you. You’re punctual, never a minute late when the two of you agree to meet after classes to work on it. You contribute to brainstorming sessions and crunch data numbers like you’re the best at it. Jake finds that he’s able to divide up the work evenly and sleeps at a decent hour because he doesn’t have to stay up late to finish an extra portion.

Your intellect is attractive to him. You’re able to explain difficult theories and statistical processes to him better than any professor he’s ever hard. Only, it becomes hard to listen to you talk because he keeps staring at your lips.

They’re so kissable. Jake wonders what they must feel like against his own. He imagines grabbing your face with his hands and planting one on you when you talk about SPSS but he doesn’t act on it, fearing that he may make you uncomfortable. Jake loves it when you start to wear shorter dresses and skirts because the weather is warming up. He likes seeing your thighs stick to the seats and watching you pull the fabric down to prevent flashing everybody.

As the months go by, he realizes he’s learned a lot about you. You’re not from around and you dream of working in astrophysics one day. You love the color green and you’re obsessed with tangerines to the point where he bought a bag just to present you with one at every session. You’re a night owl and you love all kinds of music except country, and you prefer coffee over tea.

Jake also knows that your body is gorgeous. Your legs look stunning in shorter skirts and your tits look beautiful when they almost spill out of your crop tops. He knows what your thighs look like when you sit and how your skirt rides up to accommodate the new angle you’ve put yourself in.

It messes with his head because sometimes, he swears you might like him, too.

You laugh at his corny math jokes and ask him to hang out with you on the weekends. You let him buy you coffee and meals when it’s late into the night. You let him walk you home and you even allow Jake to nap on your bed when he comes over to work on the project after long, hot days.

It all comes to a boiling point one Thursday evening when he’s alone with you in your dorm. Your roommate is gone until Monday and Jake is sitting on the bed whilst you’re sitting on the desk chair, stretching your arms above your head until your shirt rides up. He can see your skin and wonders how soft you must be.

For just a moment, Jake wonders what your bare skin would feel like against his palms. Your breasts look plush to the touch and he’d bet anything that your pussy would feel so amazing against his fingers and cock when you’re wet. He imagines sliding his dick in and out of your tight hole, pumping until he’s coming inside of you and making you messier than before.

But he regrets this thought because he’s half hard in his sweatpants and there’s no way to hide it.

“I, uh, think I’m gonna head back to my dorm,” Jake announces as he puts a notebook in front of his crotch.

“Already?” You turn around and pout at him. “But you got here thirty minutes ago.”

Jake shuffles to the door. “Sorry, Y/N. I think I’ll do my portion there.”

“Jake, I really need you here to complete my part. We’re supposed to turn in the second half of the report this week and I need your help to do it.”

God, you sound so hot when you’re asking him to stay.

He panics when you stand from your seat to approach him as he motions to open the door. The sound of your chair scraping against the floor startles him until he drops the notebook that’s been covering his semi-hard dick. You gasp.

“Are you hard?”

Bashfully, Jake sighs and tries to back away from you. “This I why I wanted to leave, okay? I…I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You look at his crotch and then back up at him. “Why are you hard?”

Jake’s face heats up even more. “I-I don’t know.”

“Jaeyun.” Your voice sounds so delicate saying his name like that.

“It’s because I like you and you’re wearing shorts that leave nothing to the imagination, okay?!” He sighs. “I’ve liked you since the second time we worked on the project because that’s when I knew I could rely on you. Everything else was just circumstance and now I need to go to my dorm so I can take care of this.”

“I can help,” you tell him. You say it just shy of confidently and he can’t tell if you feel bad for him or not.

“You don’t have to say or do anything. I already made this weird.”

You force yourself to stop looking at his cock. Knowing Jake, he’s too embarrassed to realize that your proposition is genuine and that you’ve harbored a crush on him since becoming partners with him too. So you muster up enough courage to press your lips to his and hope the message is clear.

Jake’s eyes widen against your mouth and you pull back after a few seconds to see the astonished look on his face. “I like you too, dummy. Have since you started bringing me tangerines after knowing me for two weeks.”

“Really?”

You nod. “Mhm. Can I kiss you again?”

Jake captures your mouth in a kiss the way he wants to—his hands grab your jaw and he pushes his lips against yours until he’s turning you. You feel your back hit the hard wall and gasp into the kiss, allowing Jake to lick your bottom lip with his tongue. The sensation dances across your chest and you gush out a stream of wetness at Jake’s urgency.

“Could’ve been kissing you all this time,” he mutters against your neck as he drags his lips down your skin. “Feel what you do to me.”

Without detaching himself from you, Jake puts your hand on his hardened cock and hears you whimper at the feeling. He coaxes you to squeeze him through the fabric and moans against your neck when you do.

“Such a good girl, listening to me like that.” He pulls away and pushes his hips into your palm. “I’m always hard for you.”

“R-Really?”

“You’re so hot, Y/N. You have to know that.”

Jake doesn’t let you respond. He grips your waist and pushes his plump lips back on yours and kisses you with fervor until your own lips have become swollen. The two of you emit breathy moans in the quiet of your dorm room and your free hand pushes Jake’s sweats down until his cock springs free. The hand around his dick collects the precum that has oozed from his swollen head and you smear it over his skin.

“Fuck me,” he moans to himself. “You’re perfect.”

“Your cock is perfect,” you choke. “So big.”

“Yeah? Can you spit on it for me?” You do as he says, leaning forward until a wad of it touches his slit. Jake smiles at you lustfully and squeezes your hips. “Good girl. Always so good, aren’t you? Makes me wonder how good you’ll be for me when I fuck you.”

“I’ll be so good,” you whine as you twist your hand up and down his length. Jake resumes kissing your neck and the electricity makes your pussy quiver. “I want you inside of me now.”

“Now? You think you’re wet enough?” You nod. “We’ll just have to see, now won’t we?”

Jake’s movements are hurried as he pushes your shorts down until they’re at your knees. You aren’t lying. You’re really wet. The cute baby pink panties you wear are soiled and he feels it when his fingers come in contact with the fabric.

The short whimper you let out is enough for Jake to short circuit. He doesn’t believe this is real. Even less so when you maneuver his cock until the tip it pushing against your covered core, gathering your wetness to coat his cock.

“Fuck, you really are perfect,” Jake whispers against you. He pulls back to watch as you stroke him while keeping the tip plush against you as if to coax him into fucking your hole. Jake’s mouth hangs open at the delicious sensation of the wet fabric against his cock head and decides you’re wet enough to take all of him.

He relishes in your gasp when he forces you to turn around. You push your ass towards him and Jake slaps your right ass cheek with his big hands until the sound reverberates in the room. Jake pulls your panties down until they join your shorts halfway down your legs and pushes his cock against you.

“How are you so fucking wet?” he mutters.

“It’s all for you.”

“Fuck yes it is.”

Without bothering to pull his sweatpants off, Jake uses his hand to slide the tip up and down your slit until you’re arching your back and clutching the wall to the best of your ability. The wet splashes make him even hornier and he pushes the head into you until you envelop him.

Slowly, Jake pushes into you inch by inch and holds you by the waist. He rubs your bare skin and coos at you when you wiggle your ass to get more of him. The pain feels exceptional. You can’t remember a time where you fucked someone as big as Jake and you don’t want to live without his cock inside of you like this.

Jake takes his shirt off to prevent it from obstructing the view of his cock disappearing into your pussy. He pushes himself inside of you until he’s completely sheathed and catches you by surprise. Jake silences your moan with a kiss to your mouth and rubs soothing circles on your waist, kissing you like his life depends on it while you get used to the new stretch.

He pushes his tongue against yours and uses the spit to coat his lips. You taste exactly like the pink lemonade you’ve been drinking all night and the innocent flavor makes his hips buck into you.

“Fuck me,” you beg. “Please, Jake. Don’t make me wait.”

He obliges. Jake fucks into you with all his might and his strong, muscular arms hold you in place as you push your chest against the wall and hold onto the door handle. The string of moans you let out is surely loud enough to let the neighbors know what’s happening behind the door but neither of you care about that right now. Jake wants to make you come and he’s slinging his hips into you from an upward angle, bending his knees to make sure his cock impales your g-spot.

“You’re so hot,” he moans. “I think about fucking you all the time.”

“M-Me too,” you confess.

“Yeah? What do you think about?”

“I think about—Ah!—Fingering me in class and eating my pussy.”

“Fuck yeah. I can do that for you.” Jake grips your hips tighter. “I can make you cum.”

“Make me cum, Jaeyun,” you plead, pushing your ass back. “I wanna cum on your cock.”

Jake pistons his hips into you until you’re parallel to the floor, holding onto the handle for dear life. He pushes into you so hard that you’re afraid you’d fall if it weren’t for his strong grip on you. Jake pushes and pushes, saving his orgasm until you come first.

It hits you like a tidal wave crashing over the shore. Your orgasm is long and drawn out as he keeps his brutal pace. Your release seeps from between the two or you and drips down his balls. Jake bites his lip at the tingling sensation and smacks your ass when you clench around him.

“Use me to make yourself cum,” you tell him. “Please, Jake. Please cum for me.”

“Say less, Princess.”

His orgasm follows shortly behind yours. Jake pulls out after five more thrust and pumps his cock until his cum spurts all over the globes of your ass. The warm, thick liquid feels so good against your skin that you push your bare pussy against him until Jake is letting his hot cock rest on you too.

When he regains his breath, he spots a roll of paper towels and gives your cheek a quick kiss before cleaning the both of you up. His touch is gentle, juxtaposed to his fucking just a few minutes prior. Jake cleans himself up before wiping the cum off of you and wiping your pussy gently too. He coaxes you to change into fresh undergarments and lets you collapse onto the bed with your eyes on him.

“I really do like you,” Jake says. “I didn’t say that just to fuck you.”

You pull him down and kiss him until all that’s left is soft pecks and the sound of lips smacking. Jake lets you pull away to lay on top of his chest and you feel him kiss the crown of your head.

“Sleep, Y/N. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

***

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