#says one thing. then has to curl into a ball and not say anything else for the rest of the time im in chat

[mo-online]

"the other ravens didn't know jean's age!!!"

think of any 16 year old boy you know. does he look like an adult to you? would you call him a whore if you'd found out he'd gotten into five different men's beds in less than a week?

no?

then think of a scrawny, underfed 16 year old boy. his face is bony, but not quite sharp. his nose is crooked, and a part of you thinks that maybe he just hasn't grown into his own face yet, at least until the bruising makes you want to look away before you can think about it any harder. none of his clothes fit him quite right, and you can always hear his joints popping in and out of place. he has the thickest accent you've ever heard, and you still don't quite know what he's saying most of the time, even if he swears it's english and looks close to tears if you insist it's anything but too loudly (he's only been in america for two years and it's hard to grasp much when all you have to develop your language skills from is cruel insults).

he's not as tall as the rest of the court yet — actually, he's far from it. he's not spared enough to build any muscle, even throughout the relentless practices, and he always looks five seconds from passing out by the time the drills even start. he's sweating, panting, and there's a rattling in his chest when he does... has he broken a rib? why is he even here? he's not as big, not nearly as strong, and the other ravens zero in on him until he's a puddle on the floor. he can barely keep his own racquet steady in his hands, and when he props it up to lean on, you realize he isn't much bigger than the damn thing itself. the captain is always dragging him around, sometimes by his wrist, sometimes by his hair. you think it's just messy hazing for a while, and maybe you dare to spare him a pitiful nod and hope for his sake it'll end soon, but months go by and it never does. he's doubled over one day, then running laps the next, and god, why does he always reek of blood? you start to notice his fingers as they change colors, once bony and milky pale, now bruised black and blue and crusted over with scabs. they're misshapen... broken, almost every one. he shouldn't be playing like this, but he tugs his gloves on with his teeth and plays through the pain.

you pass his room on your way to bed, door wide open. he sleeps curled up in a ball, back pressed so hard against the wall, knees into his chest. you can hear his shaky breaths, how his lungs rattle uneasily, even in his sleep. he shakes himself awake from nightmares, gripping the sheets, dry heaving as he forces his own face into the pillow to muffle the sound... but he does not scream. he does not cry. poor kid, you think, because what else could you call him? he's far too beaten down to even think to consider an adult. a puppy kicked one too many times.

the captain calls everyone into a room, arms folded over his chest, face smug as if he'd come up with a solution to the entire world's problems. but there's something strange about the meeting. only backliners. gigantic, sneering, male backliners. he asks for volunteers, a few good samaritans to "fuck some sense into him," and you watch as five greedy hands fight to be the first in the air. riko makes his pick, makes his promise, and for the next week it's all you can hear at night. you wouldn't call it moaning, but... screaming. fighting. teeth and claws and fickle words. "please. please stop. please stop. please—" and then silence. the last night all you hear is defeated silence.

and suddenly it's the child's fault, isn't it? everyone else is saying it, that he slept his way onto the lineup, that he's nothing more than a braindead whore. if everyone's saying it, though, does that make it true?

or is it just easier to stomach?

[aspynnwoofs]

Um. hi. your fanart of Marcy waking up from a nightmare is probably my favorite piece of Amphibia fanart ever. curious what was going through your head when you made it. also what are your headcannons/thoughts about The Core, Marcy, what she experienced while under its control, and its lasting effects on her?

holy shit dude, thanks? i don’t know what i did to deserve all this nice stuff you’re saying, but thanks. also the tags on the reblog were not aggressive or mean or anything, they actually made me super happy to see! i’m really glad you like it.

coming back after writing all the stuff, there’s a lot so i’m putting a ‘keep reading’ thing. seriously there’s so much

what was going through my head… hm. it’s like, i imagine Marcy having lots of nightmares about things that happened to her, or things that could have happened, stuff like that. i’ve read a lot of fanfic so now i really like the idea of her clutching her shirt when remembering being impaled. or even just for comfort, to know that her weakest point is covered in moments of terror. also she’s crying. sobbing. the only times she recovers quickly after bad nightmares is when she’s with the others.

i really like the idea of the Core not only sticking her in a box in her mind, but also showing her things. like to keep her from trying to get out. can’t resist if your mind is shattered and devoid of hope! anyway i mean like using the illusions to show her various things, situations, people. more peaceful ones where she’s with her girls, only to realize they aren’t there. terrifying ones where they make her live through her worst memories, her betrayal (of her and by her), her death, her torture and possession. twisted situations where Anne and Sasha proclaim that they can’t be seen with her, they can’t trust her, even hate her for what she’s done. sometimes the Core sticks her in unending darkness so they don’t have to think of anything, or if they’re focused on something else and need her out of the way (this is where the thing about being unable to sleep or feel safe in complete darkness is from). sometimes they’ll make a fake scene where it seems as though she is being shown what her body is doing, she can see through her eyes, and then she hurts people. kills people. sometimes it will be real, but she doesn’t know that, and she will still hurt people. when whoever in the Core in charge of her is feeling particularly cruel, they’ll do a simulation of her being saved. rescued. freed. forgiven. she’s finally with her girls. but. she isn’t. she’s still here. of course they didn’t save her, why would they? she’s a horrible person, and she did so much unforgivable stuff? why would they ever want to save someone like her? (shit this is long, yeesh. well i’m having fun soo-) sometimes Anne and Sasha kill her as she’s possessed, because she needs out of the way, and her life doesn’t matter anyway. sometimes they free her and then take their fury at her out on her by hurting her.

recovery from that is incredibly hard. when she’s rescued, she doesn’t believe it. firmly denies it, hides from them, tries to keep them from hurting her, curls into a ball and refuses to acknowledge them. because they aren’t real, they aren’t. hasn’t she been through this enough? it takes the others a while to convince her she’s in reality, and that yes, they do really forgive her. she’s actually completely free.

later in life she has trouble discerning reality from her nightmares. she has insane trust issues. she can’t walk, not by herself. she’s terrified of fire, because fire is what impaled her, killed her, and fire is the color of the eyes that haunt her. a small zap of static electricity is enough to send her into a flashback of her possession, of the chair, of fire and lightning and code flowing into her, burning burning burning. once someone tried to calm her by grabbing her wrists, which only sent her further. the cuffs. they chained her down. she can’t move she can’t move! the color orange makes her nervous, if there’s too much of it she half convinced they’ve taken over somehow and tinted her vision the color of her nightmares. (looking at this you’d really think i’d be able to write something. i should write something) sudden complete darkness, such as someone turning off a light without warning, has her half believing whatever just happened wasn’t real, that the Core got bored and stuck her in the darkness. sound and small lights can help her come back to reality. sound because the Core wouldn’t let sound into their void, that would defeat the point! and small lights because if it all comes back quickly it just means the simulation has been turned back on. better to show her something small but concrete. Anne and Sasha have gotten really good at realizing when she needs a reality check, and then knowing her to ground her. (btw she doesn’t move away because i need her to have a support system. she might actually go crazy if she’s separated from her friends) ( whAT THE FUCk-?? this is so long! i need to wrap up! holy shiiiit) Marcy likes to hold their hands to help her remember where she is. physical touch is very grounding. the Core could never get it right so it’s even more so. after some nightmares she flinches from touch, so other things are needed, but once she’s returned from the hell in her mind she needs touch. sometimes weighted blankets help to ground her when she feels as though she might almost float away, sometimes they chain her down and trap her beneath the weight of all her mistakes.

there’s probably more, but if i kept going i’ll just have written a whole ass fic in an ask answer. hope you liked it! if not idk what i can give you (you’ll like it, because it’s great)

i don’t think i’ve ever written things out like things before, i should do that more. it helped to have specific questions, so thanks man i guess? heh.

[unceeled]

gojo satoru has you all covered. they were not joking when they said that this man would serve and protect because not a single thing touches you, ever. and gojo satoru is proud of that, that's what he's good at: being your personal shield.

and yet, even if he were to extend his infinity to you at every hour of the day, the one thing gojo satoru could not protect you from is getting sick.

then and there, the strongest one forgets how to act. this was not something he could fight off, something he could exorcise. no. but he felt helpless watching you squirm and curl up into a ball, sneezing and coughing on your bed.

he'd do everything in his power to take care of you, of course. but it was fidgety, at best. he never got sick growing up; he wasn't aware of the procedures of this all. so... he googled.

what else was he meant to do? you refused to eat, you were coughing up something, you were shivering, your temperature extremely high, and more things he truly did not want to think that you were going through. still, it was those same things that found their way to the google search bar as gojo satoru looked desperately for anything that could make your shivering figure feel better.

comfort was the last thing he got from his trip to the internet, however. the text on his screen informed him of the demise you'd supposedly face at this rate. you were gonna get worse and he was gonna lose the light of his life... is how he understood the search result.

after spending the whole afternoon napping, you finally stir awake feeling a cool towel on your head and something dripping on your hand. you blink the sleep away for a few more moments, eyes finally focusing on the sniffling figure holding your hand.

"toru, what's going on?" you squeeze his hand back lightly. you hear an almost theatrical gasp matched with widened blue eyes and immediately become engulfed in big bulky arms.

"i thought i was gonna lose you." he sniffs, nuzzling his face in your neck. you're left puzzled but return the hug nonetheless. "what made you think that?" satoru pulls away and examines your face. "baby, it felt like you were dying on me," he exclaims, still cupping your face.

"toru, it was probably just the flu-" you are interrupted by a cough that erupts from your throat.

"see! this is what google said would happen!"

"google? satoru gojo, you consulted google? and that's why you were crying?"

"next time i'll just exorcise every germ in this world."

"if you say so, baby"

[piplupod]

one day i will be okay to interact with people outside of my tiny circle and won't have anxiety(panic?)-induced heart palpitations every time i type a single neutral message into a chat. one day!!!!

[boltwrites]

Thinking about you and Logan both working at Xavier's and how you'd start to notice all his weird little quirks:

You don't think you've ever seen this man in pants that aren't form-fitting in some way. He's got the black leather for the X-Men suit, bootcut denim for daily wear. And that's all fine and dandy, but one time you snuck downstairs in the middle of the night (stayed up way too late reading a book you got super into) and found him in the kitchen. In jeans. At 2 AM. Did he... sleep in that?

You don't even want to ask about the hair. Scott swears he's seen cans of hairspray in his trash (why were you looking, Scott?) but Rogue is absolutely convinced he just has weird cowlicks. You are undecided.

It's undeniable that Logan actively tries to seem cool, though. You've caught slips in his gruff and sarcastic facade. Namely, the time he was working on fixing Scott's bike, meanwhile humming along to Britney Spears. He definitely didn't think you'd be able to tell through his Walkman, but you'd recognize that melody anywhere.

Oh, and even though he acted like he hated working with the kids? You knew that was a lie too. He wasn't a teacher, per say, but he definitely spent a lot of time helping kids out sparring, or listening to them complain about the other teachers. And you'd caught, on more than one occasion, gifts the kids had given him on his person. There was a bead lizards on his set of keys, and while the bracelets were braided in muted, neutral colors, you recognized the intricate knots of those friendship bracelets. He was a softie.

But by far the strangest was the time he'd missed a meeting and you'd somehow been assigned to drag him out of bed. When he hadn't answered the door, you'd decided to just barge in, irritated at having to wake a grown man in the first place.

But Logan didn't sleep like a normal man, was the thing. Your own standard bed at the mansion came with four pillows, a top sheet, a blanket, and a duvet. Meanwhile Logan's bed looked more like a nest than anything else. There were pillows spilling onto the floor, blankets twisted around each other, at least two comforters - and Logan, curled up in the middle of it all in the smallest ball he could manage, snoring lightly.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 4 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: As you and Bradley start to blur the line between professional and personal correspondence, you feel yourself falling for him even more. He has charmed your students as well as you, and you decide to continue taking a chance on him.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley sounding hot

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley spent an hour bundling up all of his letters to your students, getting them ready to be sent back to California. Sure, he wanted to impress you, but he also couldn't deny that he was attached to hearing from Oliver, Violet, Jayden and everyone else. And according to you, they were just as happy to hear from him.

Without giving it a second thought, Bradley went all in with your personal email address. An account where he assumed you could say and send anything you wanted to. One that nobody else was monitoring. His thoughts strayed constantly over the past few hours to what that might mean. What did you deem too personal for your school account?

You told him you were single, and you made it seem like you were into him. You said he gave you butterflies, and now he desperately wanted to see this thing through. When he closed his eyes, he could picture the photos of your smiling face, and he felt a little dizzy. He wanted you to tell him everything. He wanted you to wait for him so he could take you on a date. Or several. He wanted to know what your lips tasted like.

It sounded like your ex was a real tool if he didn't appreciate what you did and how hard you worked. You taught eighteen kids enough about aviation that they asked Bradley some pertinent questions and brought up information that was relevant to his job. He was impressed as hell, and he thought he could be better than what you had before. He already knew without a shadow of a doubt that you were better than Vanessa. It was obvious.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw."

He turned toward the voice calling his name as soon as he dropped the package with your name on it off at the mail center. "Hey," he called out to the mechanic who let him take those photos for your class a few weeks ago. He read his jumpsuit again just to be sure. "What's up, Marty?"

He jerked his thumb toward the main deck and said, "I just got around to unpacking some new engine components. You still writing to those kids?"

"Yeah."

"I'm about to do some repairs if you want to take some more pictures or a video for them."

Bradley had been planning on stalking his inbox for the rest of the day in the hopes that you'd write back and comment on his brief missive telling you he wanted the conversation to go further, but this seemed better than driving himself crazy. He could practically picture you and your kids flipping through some photos and watching a cool video he managed to snag for you. "Yeah, Marty. Let me grab my phone, and I'll meet you out in the shop."

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

After you read the email from Bradley where he called you Gorgeous, you were up most of the night. First, you screeched and almost spilled hot tea all over yourself as you rushed to set your mug down on the coffee table so you could giggle and kick your feet in the air. Then you read and reread the short email for about five minutes, curled up in a little ball with your phone right in front of your face. Then you sprawled along your couch and let yourself imagine what he might be like in person.

It was too early to get your hopes up about ever getting that far, but you couldn't seem to stop yourself from thinking about it. You hummed softly, because in your daydream, he lived in San Diego and asked you out on a date, and he was a perfect gentleman until you didn't want him to be any longer. You didn't even consider what reality might hold, because you were sure you wouldn't like it as much.

But for now, he was on board with going further. Your expectations of things included chatting about your likes and dislikes as well as learning more about him. "I'd like to take it further," you read softly, trying to imagine it in a masculine voice. But what did that sentence mean for him? You sat up on the couch. Surely he wasn't going to turn into a pig and start sending you anything too raunchy. Right?

You swiped out of your email inbox and looked at the photo of him standing in front of his jet and moaned. It was actually your mind heading for the gutter as you wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped up in his big arms. What it would be like to tug the zipper of his flight suit down slowly, enjoying the feel of the pull between your thumb and index finger.

It was like the fictional leading man in a romance novel came to life and told you that he thought you were pretty and that he liked your students. You flopped back down on the couch and screeched into the pillow so as not to alarm your neighbors. You needed to respond, but you didn't know what to say since you were probably past the point of playing it cool. You chewed on your lip while you typed and then deleted several versions before sending him something that you thought was okay.

Bradley,

I'd like to take it further, too. I don't usually do this kind of thing (oh, who am I kidding... I never do this kind of thing), but there's just something about you that made me feel like it was worth the risk. I hope I'm not being too bold if I say that I found the photos you sent me quite distracting. However, it's not just your looks that made me share my personal email address with you. I like the way you give me butterflies. There's something sweet that comes through in your writing, and I want to get to know you better. On that note, if you feel so inclined, please tell me three things I should know about you.

Yours Truly,

Your favorite pen pal

Once again, you had written back to him so quickly, it should have been embarrassing, but you had nothing to lose here. You tossed out the bait, and he took it in the most spectacular fashion. You didn't want to miss an opportunity like this, even if he did seem too good to be true.

But he still hadn't written back when you got to work the next morning. The ping of the email alert on your phone made you reach for it immediately, but it was just a reminder to pay your bills on time. As you unlocked your classroom door and flipped the lights on, you considered that maybe your message was a little bit boring. After all, you were the one to bring your personal account into play. Perhaps he was expecting you to reply with some sort of dirty picture. Your cheeks burned with mixed embarrassment. You wanted to take it further, but you didn't know how. You just knew that you wanted to keep him engaged without compromising yourself.

You tucked your bag and your phone away in your desk drawer and pulled out your lesson plans for the day. You'd start things off with language arts and then work your way through math and science before your kids had art class. There was no reason you had to think about Bradley at all right now; he could just wait until later with his big hands and his thick thighs and his mustache and cute smile.

Just before your students were due to arrive, you opened your laptop and logged in to see which parents had emailed you with questions or concerns about their child. You froze when you saw an email that was sent a few minutes ago from Bradley with the subject line A visit to the mechanic's shop. When you opened it up, you found that he had attached a video and a handful of photos. 

You were a little bit annoyed that he didn't respond to the message you sent from your other account where you asked him to tell you about himself, but that melted away as soon as you clicked on the video. His face flashed up on your computer screen, and all of the features you'd shamelessly memorized were right there in front of you. Cute smile, tidy mustache, brown eyes, wavy hair. But then you heard his voice.

"Hey. I just thought I'd take all nineteen of my favorite pen pals on a little tour around the mechanic shop aboard the Theodore Roosevelt. Sound good?"

You slammed your computer shut and moaned, thighs pressed tight together as your heart hammered. He was too much. It was just a video. He wasn't even really here, but he was an absolute assault on your senses. He called you gorgeous, but meanwhile it was hard to look directly at him for fear that you'd burst out into a fit of giggles. You shook your tingling hands out and slowly opened your computer again.

"Bradley Bradshaw. How are you this hot?" you whispered at the video paused on your screen. His face was frozen mostly in profile as he looked to the side, and for the first time, you saw some long scars on his cheek and neck. "Oh." They weren't new, rather giving the appearance that they had faded over time. You wondered how pronounced they would feel beneath your fingers. Would he let you touch them? Let you drag your lips across them while your hands found their way to his tousled hair?

After taking a few deep breaths, you let the video play again. Another man joined Bradley on the screen, and he was holding up a long, metal rod.

"This is my friend Marty. He's been a mechanic in the Navy for twenty-six years, and he specializes in aircraft repairs. He knows more about my Super Hornet than I do, and I'm not ashamed to admit that. So I'm just going to stand here and hold my phone still while we watch Marty do his thing."

The rest of the video was fascinating. It was still interesting the second time when you watched it with your class instead of doing your language arts lesson. The kids sat at rapt attention, eating up that little introduction that Bradley gave just as you had. He didn't talk to them like a bunch of little kids who didn't understand anything, which you loved. He and Marty explained what they were doing without making it too juvenile. Then when the video ended, your kids started raising their hands with question after question.

"You know what to do," you told them, holding out a dry erase marker for Jackie to take. She wrote down the list of questions that everyone had for Bradley while you tapped through the photos, once again imagining how warm and rough his hands would feel wrapped around your own instead of an intake manifold.

The impromptu aviation lesson lasted for two hours until your kids left for art class, and now you were a little concerned about all of the additional, more personal questions you had for Bradley besides the ones your class came up with. You wanted to know how old he was and where his scars came from. You wanted to know where he lived now, but you were too afraid of the answer. According to one of the notes he wrote back to Violet, he went to the University of Virginia. He even sounded like he was from the east coast.

You sat at your desk alone, digging your snack out of your drawer along with your phone. There was a new email. You smiled as you realized he must have sent it to you just after he emailed the video he took for your whole class to watch. The opening greeting once again had you kicking your feet beneath your desk, snack forgotten. 

Hey, Gorgeous,

I'm still having a hard time believing that you want to get to know me better. Full disclosure, I'm a little nervous you'll get bored talking to me. I don't have much family, and I know it's cliche, but flying really is my passion. I spend a lot of my time on aircraft carriers which makes it hard to maintain relationships and friendships with people on dry land. 

Talking to my nineteen new pen pals has been the most exciting part of my deployment. But you're right... you're my favorite one. I could tell from the first letter that wasn't even specifically meant for me that you were funny and sweet. And then I saw what you look like, and I kept going back to the photo for another look. You're just as gorgeous as you are funny and sweet.

Three things you should know about me? One, I'm afraid of spiders. Like so afraid of them that I might have a crisis on my hands if you tell me you have a beloved pet tarantula or something. Two, I loved taking piano lessons so much when I was a kid, I actually still take them. (Now I'm sitting here wondering why I'm telling you embarrassing shit.) My next door neighbor is a retired music teacher, and when I'm home, I trade yard work for piano lessons. Everyone wins. Third, I like giving Gorgeous teachers butterflies. That's a new one, but I thought you should know about it.

I'm giving you some homework, hope you don't mind. I want you to send me a picture of one of those San Diego sunsets where the sky somehow looks both blue and orange at the same time. If you happen to be in the photo, I'm not going to complain. I would also love to hear three things I should know about you. 

Please tell your kids they have mail on the way. I hope to hear back from them. And you.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

Oh. This crush was even worse than you thought.

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

After days of running drills, Bradley was finally grounded because of a bad storm that was closing in, and he was given a few hours off. He stood out on deck, letting the first drops of hard rain hit his face. He was hoping to get a nice sunset photo to send to you, but the past few days had been terribly cloudy. And now he felt like he was being torn in three directions as his flight suit got wet: he was sweaty, hungry and curious. As a result, he couldn't decide if he should hit the shower, the mess hall or the lounge first.

He reasoned that he'd best appreciate an email from you if he was cleaned up and well fed. If you'd had time to write back to him, it would top off his night in the sweetest way possible. So he took a shower and unfortunately had to eat cabbage rolls for dinner. He chuckled to himself as he walked toward the lounge, picturing a bunch of fourth graders eating dinner in the mess hall and ranking the foods. They would probably love that, actually.

As Bradley logged in and watched his email inbox appear on one of the lounge computers, he muttered, "Hell yes." There was a new message from you, and he couldn't click on it fast enough. Before he started reading, the attached photo caught his attention, and he grunted softly. Fuck. 

There you were, on a stretch of beach in Coronado, not even a mile from his house with the sun setting behind you. Your features were in shadow, but your smile was a little shy and very pretty. You looked so soft, standing there on the windswept sand in denim shorts and an oversized sweatshirt with Mira Mesa Elementary printed on the front, and all he wanted to do was touch you. He could already imagine a picnic dinner on that beach, snuggling up with you as cooler temperatures moved in. Enjoying the blues and oranges until the sky got so dark, he'd lead you back to his house with your fingers laced with his.

Bradley,

I'm turning in my homework. I hope I get a passing grade. I'm not usually the student, so I'm a little out of practice. A Naval officer from Top Gun took this photo for me. Apparently aviators just like you are all over the beaches in Coronado.

I have some good news for you. While I'm not actually afraid of spiders, I promise I don't have a beloved pet tarantula. And I'm sorry, but the idea of you still taking piano lessons made me giggle for a solid minute. The mental image is just that adorable. 

You always seem to know what to say to make my butterflies go crazy, and that's just through the written word. As an educator, I always stress the importance of honesty to my students. So let me just say that honestly, I'm not going to get bored talking to you. I also can't lie about the fact that I watched the video you sent several times just to hear your voice. (Now I'm the one embarrassing herself.) And I really can't see how you would have a hard time maintaining a relationship while you're away. Maybe your previous partners didn't appreciate how rare it is to find someone who is willing to put in some effort. Or maybe they didn't find your arachnophobia oddly endearing. But I kind of do.

Three things you should know about me: 1. I graduated from college with a 4.0 GPA. 2. Sometimes I fall asleep during movies, especially if I'm snuggled up on my own couch. 3. I have a crush on you.

Hitting send before I can change my mind.

Bradley couldn't help the smile teasing at his lips as he tucked his hands behind his head and read your last few sentences again. He always wanted to continue talking to you, so maybe it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that you wouldn't grow bored with this. Maybe you'd care more about him than going out on dates, unlike Vanessa. He wasn't going to wait before responding to your email. What was the point? You were into him, and he was definitely into you.

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

"We got mail!" you announced, holding up the package that was waiting for you in the school office when you refilled your travel coffee mug on your way to your classroom. Your students erupted into delighted conversation.

"Is it from Lieutenant Bradshaw?" asked Jayden.

"Of course it is," Violet told him. "It must be. He's our pen pal after all."

"Did he send us more notes?" Oliver asked, practically bouncing out of his seat in anticipation.

"He did!" you confirmed as you tore into the package and enlisted Harrison to help you hand the individual notes to their recipients. The room went silent as soon as they all started reading, and then one after the next, the kids started to get out their notebooks to start their responses.

You felt warm all over. Bradley was on your mind a lot, and you didn't really want him going anywhere. You watched the video he sent again last night before you went to sleep, and you dreamed about a strong man with a sexy voice curled up behind you in bed. You knew you had a new email from him, but you were waiting until you could sit quietly during your lunch break to read it.

At some point, you were going to have to taper off the aviation curriculum and focus on other things, but you just didn't want to have to do that yet. Not when your class was so engaged. Not when it made you feel connected to a man thousands of miles away who you had feelings for in spite of the fact that you never met him in person. In spite of the fact that you were too afraid to ask him where he lived.

After you eventually walked your kids down to the lunchroom, you were free to read your email from Bradley in peace. But the more you thought about opening it, you started to get nervous. You already admitted you were interested in him, so there was really no going back. If he hadn't sent you something similar, you were going to have to crawl under a rock, but you got your phone out as you took a deep breath and started reading.

Hey, Gorgeous,

Now wait right there. I have some concerns. I'm going to address them in order, so please bear with me. First of all, you didn't just pass your homework assignment, you got an A+. I've never seen such a beautiful sunset in my life, and yet it was barely noticeable next to you. But here's my main issue. I can't have another aviator taking sunset photos of you and sweeping you off your feet. How about you just stay off that beach in Coronado for the time being? Give a guy a chance here?

I couldn't agree more about the importance of being honest. Honestly, I'm letting out the breath I've been holding, worried that you were going to send me a photo of you with your pet tarantula. And honestly, smart women really do it for me, so any time you want to bring up that 4.0 GPA, I'm going to need a minute. And honestly, nothing sounds better than watching a movie with you on your couch right now. Can't stop thinking about it, actually. 

Please, tell me in an overabundance of detail, what you would do if I promised I would take you out to dinner but then changed my mind and told you that I was tired from work and wanted to spend a quiet evening on my couch with some takeout instead.

You have a crush on me? Gorgeous girl, all I can think about is the couple days of leave I'm going to have once this aircraft carrier finally docks back in San Diego. Where you are. You and my eighteen other pen pals. I think I have a thing for fourth grade teachers. Or maybe it's just you. I can't wait to hear from you again.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

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

Okay. Some admissions have been made. Little bits of feelings have been established. She has seen him and heard his voice, and I think we're ready to keep taking things further. Maybe a phone call? Maybe another photo or two? We also can't leave the fourth graders hanging. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 5

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[cowboyfromh3ll]

you said to do headcannons right?

can you do sex headcannons for the members of the gang? Only ones you're comfortable with obv. Personally, I don't care much for Micah (I want to set him on fire) so feel free to leave him out if you don't feel like writing for him

But the usual Dutch, John, Javier, Arthur, Charles, and anybody else you feel like are just perfect. I love your writing, so I'm excited to see your take on these

<3

Sex HC Ft. Van Der Linde Gang

(Dutch Van Der Linde, John Marston, Javier Escuella, Arthur Morgan, Charles Smith, Lenny Summers, Kieran Duffy, Micah Bell, Sean Macguire, Sadie Adler)

I should write for the girls more

Warnings: Smut, duh

Dutch Van Der Linde

He probably loves roleplaying

Pretending he's the outlaw and you're the officer punishing him

But most times he loves being in control of you, thinks it's so attractive when you submit completely to him and become his pliable little servant

Likes it when you wear expensive jewelry and gifts he buys you with nothing else on

Definitely wants you to call him Sir

Says the most poetic and flowery things to you during

Probably enjoys receiving but LOVES giving head. Views it as another way to take control

Quickies with him are non existent. To him, sex and intimacy are an art, and he will take his time with every little detail and aspect of it

Enjoys playful brattiness, definitely a brat tamer

I can see him being into BDSM. Ball gags, leather crops, leashes, blindfolds, etc

John Marston

Super messy, super rough, super desperate

Pussy eating pro. I'm talking mind blowing, back arching, toe curling, sheet gripping head. ALWAYS asks if he can go down on you

Acts like every time you two have sex will be the last

On the contrary though, I feel like he'd be into edging

Also doesn't mind letting you be dominant, he has such submissive energy

Mayhaps a mommy kink, because I can also see him calling you mommy

Would let you tie him up, totally at your mercy

He loses any semblance of shame, will beg, cry, whimper, you name it

Could consent to just about anything, if you tell him to bark he'll bark

Gets carried away when during sex sometimes, just gets absolutely drunk from pleasure

Javier Escuella

Incredibly romantic and passionate

He can fuck, but he can also make love

So much sexual stamina, and makes every time you have sex absolutely unforgettable

Loves to make sure you are as comfortable as possible and feel as though you have enough privacy. Even if it means paying for a hotel, he'll do anything to ensure your comfort

But if you wanna have risky public sex he's more than willing to as well lmao

Holds you and whispers how much he loves you while he thrusts slowly

But if y'all are fucking he'll say the filthiest shit he can conjur up in his mind while thrusting as hard and fast as he can

Slaps and grips anything he can hold onto

Overwhelms all of your senses and stimulates you in multiple ways at once

Loves cumming inside you but if not inside then on your torso or face

Arthur Morgan

Loves putting his whole weight on you when y'all fuck

Just simply pinning you down with the size of him drives him crazy

Is such a gentleman even during sex. Always stops and asks how you are and if you like how he's doing

Insists you don't have to go down on him but secretly loves it when you do

His favorite positions are ones where you're totally helpless like mating presses or locking your arms behind you

Whenever he fucks you from behind he wraps his massive arm around your neck. Idly squeezes down on your neck

Enjoys sex totally naked, makes it feel more intimate exposing yourselves fully to each other

But he loves it if you wear cute outfits for him just so he can take it off you

But he absolutely loves quickies. Complains they're too risky but every time you suggest one he's unbuckling his belt before you can finish your sentence

Definitely does the knee thing

Charles Smith

He is a pure giver. You will always cum at least 3 times or else he won't feel like he did a thorough job.

Will ignore his own aching cock as long as he can see you squirm in ecstasy

Your pleasure is his pleasure

Doesn't care if he doesn't get to cum tbh

Definitely aware of his size and uses it to his advantage if you're into that

Cages you in his arms, holds you down, puts you in choke holds, etc

I feel like he'd be pretty vanilla and you'd be the one to bring kinks to the table if anything. Will honestly do most anything you want if it brings you pleasure

Soft but firm touches, like every touch is done with intent and thought

Type to make out with you for hours without any actual stimulation and be content. Will see you off with the bluest balls.

Lenny Summers

He's still pretty young so I believe his experience would be limited

You two are probably eachother's first everythings, atleast you're his

Probably cums real fast but makes up for it with enthusiam

Will try out so many things with you, the two of you will both bring ideas to the table

Tries to start things off slow but his excitement gets the best of him

SO MUCH communication and talking during (feedback, jokes, etc...)

Very forward with his needs

Asks for hand/blow jobs a lot to blow off some steam

Very fast learner, and probably very risky

I feel like he'd ask to finger you a lot in risky situations

There's been instances where he just forgets foreplay altogether and just wants to go at it

Kieran Duffy

Submissive as hell

Definitely whimpers

Let's you take the lead 99% of the time

Will cum within five minutes max, and it really takes it out of him

Super sensitive literally everything. Touch him anywhere and he's blushing and squirming

Loves it if you wrap your thighs around his head

That being said, enjoys face sitting

Feels reassured when you tell him what to do and help him in the process

Hands roam all over you, it's like he can't fathom that you're a real being that's actually doing this with him

Eyes roll back and his face goes red when he cums. He's super embarassed about it

Micah Bell

SO rough. Drags you into position and commands you to do certain things

Likes slapping, hair pulling, spitting, I feel like he'd even be into piss. All of the above would go both ways for him.

Hate sex with him goes crazy ong. And after arguments? Just fucking all your anger away

Into degrading for sure

Sex is definitely the best emotional release for the both of you without actually hurting eachother

He's into marks. That entails scratches, bites, bruises

Make him bleed, literally beat the shit out of him during sex and he'll let it slide

Sex is a constant battle for dominance

Probably makes you do embarassing things for him like bark

Also puts you in obscene and embarassing positions just for his own pleasure

If anyone ever heard y'all have sex they'd think it sounds more like an argument and a fist fight than love making

Sean Macguire

The goofiest man during sex, not even intentionally either. He'll say the stupidest thing you've ever heard with his whole chest and you'll have to ask if he's serious

"You ready for the Macguire special?"

Loud ass moans, cannot contain them. If you're into public sex you better either prepare to be caught or mentally prepare yourself for the influx of scoldings/questions that'll come later

LOVES playful brattiness or when you want to take control. He's all for it

Has fantasies of being woken up with head

Will do the same for you in return if that's what it takes to enact his fantasies

Also into roleplay but way cornier shit like you're a nurse and he's a patient. Indulges in costumes as well

Drunk sex is the best because it's combining two of his favorite things

Sadie Adler

Also definitely does the knee thing...

Genuinely one of the sweetest and more passionate lovers, and it will translate during sex

Super gentle and passionate

Lot's of "I love you"s exchanged

Never any space between you, your limbs constantly intertwined as you kiss and move against eachother

Either of you can take the role as dom, it doesn't matter to her

Smiles the whole time out of pure adoration for you

Can be super sultry and kinky when the time calls for it though

Not opposed to being a little rougher but I can't see her going too far with that

Thinks you're far too delicate and special to be treated in such a way

[worldume]

“wait! didn’t you hear..? ume-chan’s in a really bad mood..!”

“haah..?” sakura’s lip curled in an ugly expression— you know, that one he usually makes when he’s annoyed or not pleased by something? suo told him that if he makes it enough, it’ll get stuck and he won’t have to worry about making such expressions anymore. “why. but what does it even matter?”

“it’s just a bit odd to see, right..?” nirei whispered, leaning over with a look of curiosity on his face as he reaches for the little carton of white milk at the table. “i wonder what’s going on..”

“umemiya is typically so outgoing that it’s almost kind of sickening.” suo’s voice is as soothing as ever, offering a closed eyed smile as if he didn’t say something that could be considered mildly insulting— sugishita was asleep a couple desks behind luckily enough. “i’m sure whatever it is might be pretty serious.”

“oh! ume-chan and (name) are fighting.” kiryu chimes in, his white earbud now in hand. “you didn’t see in the group chat? it’s all the talk this morning~ ♪”

“really? figures we didn’t see! sakura overslept this morning and we had to shake him awake.” nirei said in a matter of fact kind of tone— suo nodded with a smile.

“don’t blame me!” sakura barks, looking away with the nastiest little pout on his face. “i’m here, aren’t i?”

“trouble in paradise, hm? ume seems experienced enough to handle a bump or two.. but maybe he did something to really make (name) mad? i can’t imagine what though, they’re both like rays of sunshine.”

“sakura..? why are you blushing?”

“shut the hell up!”

hiragi knew something was off that morning when umemiya walked onto the rooftop later than he usually does. he’s usually there earlier before anyone else. and today his radiant smile nowhere to be found and instead of his typical exuberant, over-the-top greetings, he offered a half-hearted nod before quickly taking a seat at one of the benches under the awning. weird, hiragi thought. very weird, and even more so that he hadn’t checked on his garden before doing anything else. hiragi notices the little things about his friend like how ume’s eyes seemed dim, as if weighed down by a burden— unusually into his phone. ume looked up and asked him for a favor.

when lunchtime came it was tsubakino who knew something was off when umemiya barely touched his lunch. he was normally the life of the party— ushering others to get their fill all while stuff his own face with mini sausages and spoonfuls of omurice. but umemiya’s silence was deafening at the table and it was painfully obvious that others were trying to overcompensate for the silence that’s usually filled in. umemiya’s absentmindedly pushing food around his plate, he’ll take a bite here and there— but again, he’s oddly engrossed in his phone. the rest of the members exchanged worried glances, this wasn’t like ume-chan at all.

poor sugishita. he’s stressed out— no, on the verge of having a complete meltdown by the time bofurin meets for an afternoon assembly. ume-chan has barely even said a hundred words today and he knows because he’s counted! sugi noticed how reserved ume seemed when he asked sugishita to take care of his gardening that day. he would have done that anyway, but the occasion just seemed.. strange. but ume never liked to assume anyone would anyone favors without being asked. hiragi’s making all the announcements at the assembly today, sugi noticed— and ume stood off to the side, arms crossed over his chest with a hardened but distant look on his face.

that evening sakura really got a taste of it for himself when he went looking for ume and couldn’t find at his usual spots. irritation is what sakura felt. not because he couldn’t find him, but because sakura was actually.. feeling.. some sort of.. interest or excitement about talking with ume! his brow twitched in agitation, fists balled up with a furious blush on his nose bridge and cheeks when he asked around. no one’s seen ume but sakura ends up stumbling upon him when entering a quiet little cafe he likes to go to at the end of town.

“ah. i said today, didn’t i.” ume knows, but it just completely slipped his mind. he told sakura he wantedto speak to him today. “i’m sorry, sakura. i’ve been thinking about a lot.”

“..whatever, don’t apologize..” sakura looked away, brows furrowed into a frown as he tried his best to hide the pink tint on his cheeks— a few seconds go by and he gets a glance in. oh yeah, this guy’s really fucked up about something. come to think out it, he looks like he didn’t sleep last night.

“what would you do if someone you loved didn’t want to speak to you?” the question is so sudden and catches the sweet boy beside him completely off guard.

“haaaaaah?!”

“i forgot you’re shy about these things.” a halfhearted chuckle escaped ume’s lips. “(name) and i.. we had a.. disagreement last night— she’s upset with me to say the least.”

“i don’t know much about.. girls or whatever but i do know when girls say they’re ‘fine’ or they ‘don’t want to talk to you’— means the opposite.” sakura mumbles— he’s talking but he’s busying himself with anything to try to avoid ume’s eyes, so he’s taken a sudden interest in the sugar holder. “she probably just wants to spend more time with you.. someone who cares a lot about someone else wouldn’t just say don’t talk to them unless they’re tryin’ to run ‘nd hide from the issue.”

so, that’s exactly what ume did when he found himself at your door step an hour later with all your favorite things: flowers, sweets, and a some hot takeout. when you opened the door you were greeted with his warm smile— an apologetic expression on his pretty features.

and when he asked to come in, you said yes.

© all content belongs to worldume 2024. do not, translate, modify or repost to any other platforms.

[hwaightme]

My star

(masterlist)

⭐ pairing: bf!idol!seonghwa x gn!reader ⭐ genre: comfort, fluff, established long-term relationship, long distance ⭐ summary: many miles might separate you, but they mean nothing when your heart is with him, and his heart is with you. ⭐ wordcount: 2.3k total ⭐ warnings/tags: sfw, semi-edited, horrifically self-indulgent, longing/missing someone, matchy-matchy type of couple, balanced relationship, safe spaces, communication, heart eyes, stress/tiredness, rumination, unconditional love, comfort, being vulnerable, odd sleep patterns, lmk if anything else ⭐ taglist: at the bottom of the fic ⭐ a/n: seonghwa <3 i hope this brings comfort to anyone who reads <3 reblogs, thoughts and feelings appreciated. much love!

Some days were easier than others. Wrapped up in the hustle and bustle, sinking into meetings, letting yourself get carried away by projects. Some days it was easier to forget, at least for a moment, the hollowness that persecuted you with ever-growing vigour. Concealing sentimentality and melancholia, you skillfully navigated your life until you could hide away, and in the comfort of your own, empty apartment, allowed yourself to curl up into a ball in your bed and wonder why it was that some days were like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings, while others, like a viscous putrid tar.

Today was one of those days. On edge, impatient and begging for a break, you stumbled over yourself as you counted down the seconds until you could be painfully alone. The hurt had become your best friend amidst all the changes, and you wanted nothing more than to drown in it when the times got tough. Accumulating short ends of a variety of sticks even when things were going well, you were caged in the creativity of your turbulent mind. You did not need enemies, being your own best one. 

Normally, coming home would be enough. It just so happened that you had the cure, the relief, the peace, who would stand and wait for you with open arms. You called yourself blessed - you well and truly were. In a world that was stuffed with defeat and enemies, you had someone who was always on your team. Without words, without explanation, you would be soothed. There was no need to ever dwell on complexities and tear into negativities - they all evaporated after the keeper of your heart, your starlight would embrace you. But when only the echo bouncing off the walls was there to greet your shattered presence, whatever had been gnawing at your defences would draw blood and turn into a brutal torturer.

You slid off your shoes, moving exclusively by inertia left over from powering through your commute. After washing your hands, you decided to forgo the kitchen, ambling towards the bedroom that you had gotten so used to sharing. Ghostly, dim, exhausted interiors that would glow whenever he was around. You touched the switch on the floor lamp, hesitating for a second before remembering what you had been told before - if your own sun wasn’t shining too bright, turn on all the bulbs around you until you believed the same could be done to you. Was the room always this dark?

It was impossible to say when you fell asleep. At some point after changing out of your office wear and into your pyjamas, which consisted of a half-hearted combination of tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt, along with a hoodie which your boyfriend had made a point to leave for you, you ended up crawling onto the bed, only just managing to lift the sheets and snuggling under into a somewhat comforting huddle of cotton before darkness enveloped you. Was Seonghwa asleep? Was he awake? Has he been eating well, working and relaxing in balance? Questions flooded your mind as your bleary eyes attempted to blink away your sleepiness. At this point, you were not quite sure if it was a mere physical state, the heaviness of your eyelids having become near-chronic.

He was out there, under the same sky, seeing it in slightly different shades, but he was out there. Was he lonely too? Hopefully no negative thoughts plagued him. Seonghwa deserved better. But… you could not help but listen to the little selfish worm in your mind - did he miss you? You could not deny that a part of you did long for the sensation of being missed by him. A lot. You clenched the edges of your, or technically his, sleeves and sighed. Pulling the hood over your head, you shut your eyes, trying to picture the last time you embraced the love of your life. How warm it had been. How safe. Washing away all the anxiety, all the pins and needles of stagnancy that came with unwelcome solitude. How he would say he was proud of you, and how you would be able to sit with him and listen to him talk about his day, running a hand through his soft, tousled locks. You have always been a listener. But what was there to listen to now, except the roaring waves of rumination?

What time was it where Seonghwa was? One quick unlock of the phone that you fished out from under the covers brought you the dual clock that you put on your home screen, and along with it, the realisation that you had slept through the entire evening, and through the majority of the night. Again. He was probably settling down, lying on his bed in the hotel room and playing Animal Crossing. Or did he find something else? Did he have the time and energy to play? Or perhaps there was another schedule that had crept up on your boyfriend out of the blue… You mused in total silence while inspecting the background you had set - a picture from a date some weeks ago. Right before work summoned him to leave once more, and you were left standing by the window, watching as his silver suitcase disappeared in the back of a minivan. Rolling over onto your back, your eyes travelled to the skylight - another companion that attempted to soothe your loud mind with vistas and ever changing colour palettes of the universe above. The skies had been clear yesterday, and you wished that it was the case over there, where he was, too.

Your fingers moved on their own accord, opening the messaging app you two preferred to use, flicking through his and your barrage of back and forth texts, videos, photos, voice messages… a little life in the digital space. It would be a lie if you said there was little communication. In fact, if anything, you knew almost all the details about his activities, him gushing to you about whatever he could, and smiling sheepishly when something had to be kept a business secret. You were proud of him, most certainly. If only you could say this face to face. Then, for a short while, nothing would exist except you, him and endless conversation about everything and nothing as you would be entangled in one another, cuddling on the couch as some drama you two picked would be inevitably forgotten. A new message startled you out of your dream, immediately followed by another, and another that made you scroll all the way back.

> i just found your favourite ice cream at a store here!!!

> oh?

> love i can see you are in chat… are you awake :(((

With a quick turn, you stretched and flicked on the lamp on the bedside table, deeming the still-on floor lamp no longer sufficient. Wriggling upwards so you could hold your phone vertically, you pondered how you could write a message that did not sound too desperate. You were perfectly well aware that Seonghwa did not mind a little bit of clinginess - in fact, you had had a dedicated conversation early on in your relationship about affection and he had reassured you numerous times that, especially when on tour, he adored, and reciprocated that fondness and longing. But nonetheless, the annoying bugs that lived in your head and littered it with doubt and anxiety made you want to pull back and pretend like you were unaffected. And so, you kept on writing, and deleting. Writing and deleting. Until Seonghwa took the lead and messaged you again.

> call?

> i’m in my room

> [my star <3 sent 1 image]

The ghost of a smile danced over your lips when the picture loaded - an adorable duck pout, face incredibly close to the camera, but still giving enough space for you to be able to spot the backdrop - a painting, completed in spectacularly bland tones, that served as a prime example of how the hotel where your boyfriend was staying favoured ‘stock footage’-core, if you were to borrow his words. Your gaze could not leave the picture. Your silly, precious Seonghwa, pretty inside and out. On its own accord, your hand moved upwards until it hit ‘video call’, and simultaneously ignited a sudden nervousness. What if now was not really a good time? What if Seonghwa was tired and your less than cheerful disposition would only weigh him down?

“Hello lovely… ah, I see we are matching- wait let me make the light brighter-” you watched as he played with a remote, clicking through and checking his appearance on the screen until he gave a victorious giggle, and pointed at the hoodie, “see?”

“You look so cute and cosy, Hwa… And hello to you too,” you mumbled, settling into a more relaxed position.

“I should be saying that to you, you are literally huddled in bed…”

“Join me,” you suggested, half joking, half hoping that he would play along. Clearly you were long past playing guessing games with each other, as almost instantly, Seonghwa was rushing to his bed, rolling into a burrito until only the top half of his face was peeking out. For the first time in a while, you chuckled. 

“You come here often?” he wiggled his eyebrows before squishing his face into the pillow, only to turn it back to you again, a mixture of worry and love in his eyes, “...can’t sleep, angel?”

“Hmm… if anything I might have just accidentally slept too much.”

“Ah…” both of you knew all the reasons for your behaviour. The same exact ones that prompted your boyfriend to overfill his suitcase with trinkets and clothes that he could sense you would like, or that reminded him of you. Understanding washed over you both as you quietly regarded one another through the phone screens. In moments like these, the many miles that divided you appeared so miniscule that it was agonising.

It was impossible to reach out and brush back the strand of hair that was threatening to poke his eye. It was impossible to fall into a dreamless slumber while listening to his calm, soothing heartbeat. It was impossible to gingerly squeeze his hand - an unspoken ‘I love you’, while floating in his starry eyes. But nothing in the world could take away the sincerity. The promises that turned into actions. This was your person, and you were his. As you studied Seonghwa, you felt the frustration, the pent up rage, the fatigue start to evaporate, leaving behind only a soft cloudlike fuzziness. A crush that would never go away, no matter how many years you would be together. He was your clarity, and with him it was the easiest thing in the universe to look at your troubles once again and see that you could take them on. No challenge on your path could hurt you. Not when he made you feel invincible, and even just by being present, reminded you of how you were simply priceless.

“So… tell me about the ice cream,” you tried, your voice sounding a little raspy. Seonghwa’s face, which had previously been painted over with concern, turned into the brightest sunlight. He beamed, and launched into a detailed recollection of what to anyone else would be beyond mundane. Not to you. Never to you. Never about your lovely star.

As he moved just a fraction, forcing the hoodie to glide forwards and expose more of his collarbones, you noticed that he was wearing the necklace you had gotten together - a two-piece set. Instinctively, your hand moved to feel for the chain that adorned your own neck. Two lego pieces that when put together formed a heart. The epitome of sickeningly sweet couple cooing, but it ended up being the best representation of you both. Unbeknownst to yourself you smiled even wider as the piece grew more prominent against his skin whenever it caught the light that enveloped his room in a warm optical lullaby. The change in your expression evidently did not go unnoticed, as Seonghwa paused, and with a light smirk, sat up to let the light cast wondrous shadows on his features. It was probably silly, how deep you had fallen for him, and how obvious it was, no matter what you did and how you acted. All he had to do was turn his head or say the word, and you would come running all these thousand miles to do anything at all. Really, what was stopping you?

Maybe the fact that someone had to water your boyfriend's beloved pet moss. Or that you had committed yourself to dusting and keeping the apartment pristine despite not being fond of the activity. Or, well, your own life, of course. If anything, your boyfriend would be most distressed if you gave up on yourself. As Seonghwa continued his monologue, now having moved onto discussing the next group activities and travels, you realised you had much to do. Much to work and live for. Distance or not, you were with him. And the least you could do was to balance and maintain a smitten hopefulness. With a partner like Seonghwa, who stopped to check the countdown on his phone to announce that it was only ‘a week, five days, and sixteen hours’ until he would take you to one of the many restaurants he had marked out in the city, you were safe to love hard. Forever and always. And could, in fact, live easy, knowing that while your heart was out there conquering arena after arena, stadium after stadium, his heart was right here with you. Your star with whom you could fearlessly conquer the dark, and celebrate the shimmering dots of happiness that decorated your cosmic canvas. Your story. You and him.

⭐ perma-taglist: @shakalakaboomboo @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @maddkitt @ren-junwrld @pyeonghongrie-main @marsstarxhwa @yeooclock @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @lucky-cat-cafe @northerngalxy @my-loves-my-life @http-gyu

enjoyed? do consider reblogging <3 thank you, all the love <3

[geekforhorror]

hiiii love ur writing sm !! i don’t have many specifics but i know i’d like to see corruption kink nd dacryphilia w/ jamie:)) thank u sm:) !!

thank you for the kind words anon! when i first saw this ask i actually moaned 😫

cherry pie

pairing: dbf!james kelly x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), dom!james, sub!reader, unprotected p in v sex, degradation, dacryphilia, corruption kink, rough sex, possessiveness, jealousy, pet names, fluff, etc.

“You think you can just walk around outside flaunting what has always been mine, sweetheart?” James rasps into the shell of your ear as he fucks you raw. “You thought wrong.”

You had just flown home from college and decided to stop by your dad’s house. To your surprise, he had thrown you a welcome home party and invited your closest friends, some family, and most importantly: his best friend James.

Coincidentally, you just so happened to be wearing the skimpiest clothing imaginable. In front of James. As soon as the party officially started, you made your way around the house thanking everyone who had managed to show up. Everything was going well until you started conversing with your good family friend, Andrew. Unbeknownst to you, James had become furious once he saw the two of you exchanging harmless words to one another. He hated it and the rage in his eyes only confirmed it even more. You were his, even if the two of you weren’t a thing.

He decided to take matters into his own hands and stormed outside, intending to walk over to the two of you and stop anything else from happening between you and Andrew. Once he finally made his way over to you, he cleared his throat, which startled you.

“Hi James! It’s so nice to see you,” you said with an illuminating smile plastered on your face.

“Who’s this?” James asks with no hesitation, a look of disgust as he looks directly into Andrew’s eyes.

“James, this is Andrew. Andrew, this is James.” you say with an inviting voice.

“Nice to meet you man,” Andrew says to the man.

“Wish I could say the same. I need to talk to your friend alone, kid. Now beat it,” he says, not even trying to hide the harsh nature of his words.

“Whatever dude,” Andrew says before walking away to get a drink.

“What was that Jamie?! Andrew’s nice!” you ask in a scolding voice.

“He was getting a little too close to you for my liking,” James says coldly.

“You don’t get to decide who I can and can’t talk to! You don’t own me!” you say in a fit of anger.

“You can deny it all you want, but you know deep down that I do own you.”

And boy was he right. I mean how else would you have ended up being fucked on your bed?

“Such a fucking little brat, huh? Had to throw a damn temper tantrum at your own party, didn’t you? Whose idea do you think it was to have this party?” he grunts while plowing himself deeper into your aching hole.

“Fuck Jamie…” you cry out as you feel his fat cock stretch you out ever so deliciously.

“Poor baby…already so drunk on her daddy’s best friends cock,” he tuts in fake disapproval.

He had managed to make a girl like you lose composure with only a few thrusts. You would be lying if you said you never dreamed of this. Him doing this to you. He wanted to ruin you, so that no other man could have you.

“No boy can fulfill your deepest desires like I can. That’s why you need a man like me,” he says full of lust. “You belong to me.”

“Please…need more…” you plead, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“Greedy girl, aren’t ya, darling?” he asks, already knowing the answer you would give him.

“Only for you,” you reply in a choked sob, tears finally streaming down your cheeks from how he was splitting you open. It was enough to have your toes curling and see stars.

“Lemme see those pretty tears, baby,” he says before bringing his tattooed hand to your face to wipe them even further down your cheeks. You feel his tight balls slap against the curve of your ass, which provides some much needed friction.

“James ‘m so close! Please let me cum…” you beg of him, too far gone to even paint a picture in your mind of how desperate you are in this moment.

“Promise me that you’re mine,” he demands of you.

“I’m fucking yours Jamie…all fucking yours!” you let out with raggedy moans as he stuffs you with even more of his dick.

“That’s what I like to hear. Now let go for me, m’kay sweetie? Prove that I made the right decision to let you cum,” he says in between his erratic movements, his words only spurring the two of you on. He finally hits that spot deep inside of you, enough for you to teeter over the edge and finally milk his cock with your sweet release.

James throws his head back at the feeling while still pile driving himself at an agonizing pace into your spent pussy. Before he knows it, his sticky ropes of seed spill into your walls, where it would stay for the rest of the night if it were up to him.

He finally pulls out and then positions himself so he’s laying directly next to your achy body. As the two of you catch your breath from your guys’ respective orgasms, he caresses your tresses.

“I love you,” he says, breaking the silence once and for all, causing you to look at him in shock.

“You love me?” you ask, wondering if you had heard him right.

“How could I not, baby?” he responds.

“I was just wondering because…I love you too Jamie.” you admit.

The look he gave you was one of awe and admiration. You felt so lucky to have a man who cared for you deeper than you could’ve ever imagined. Needless to say, he felt the same way.

“So where do we go from here?” he asks nervously with a chuckle.

“I may have an idea,” you say before pressing a gentle kiss to his soft lips.

tag list: @zapernz @mortalheartache @midnight-raine @camiemorgan8 @myheartwillgoon2022 @demieyesore

[jimcornflake]

Dragon Ball Z X Reader Nickname HC

A/N: I saw somebody say that people make characters softer for desirability purposes. INCORRECT! I make them soft because everybody, every single person, has a side of them- a softness- that is reserved for certain people.

🎀🎀🎀

Vegeta:

- Vegeta rarely calls you nicknames. And that is okay because his version of a nickname is simply your name, but without the sharp, demanding tone that he says everyone else’s in.

- He also calls you “woman.” He used to do it seriously, but now he only does it when he’s bored and he wants to argue for fun.

- Will patronizingly call you “babe” if you bug him or nag him about something.

“Vegeta! Chichi called, she says that Goku is training and he wants you to join him!” You called up the stairs to the Prince of all Saiyans, who was currently in the shower.

“Tell Kakarot I have no interest in playing games with him today!”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. That wasn’t true at all, so you told him, “I think it would be good for you!”

After a long stretch of silence, Vegeta replied, “Fine, babe!”

You groaned loudly and dramatically so he would hear it. You told Chichi that Vegeta would be joining Goku and after a little chitchat, hung up.

Two soaking wet arms wrapped around your waist from behind and a chin rested on your shoulder. “Woman. Say it.”

“Hm? I don’t believe I heard anything. The wind sounds awfully strange today.” You looked around as if you had no idea where the sound was coming from, but you placed your hands overtop of Vegeta’s. “I haven’t a clue in the world what it could mean.”

He huffed and lightly scraped his teeth against your neck skin. “Y/N,” he crooned, so uncharacteristically gently,

You pursed your lips, but couldn’t fight the smile off your face. You know that tone was reserved for one person and one person only.

“I love you, Vegeta.”

He released you and began walking away with his chest puffed out and his chin high. “And why wouldn’t you? I am the Prince of All Saiyans-“

“VEGETA!”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

Piccolo:

- He either calls you “sweet” or “pretty little earthling.” He throws the “little” in there because he knows that pointing out the fact that you are significantly weaker than him makes you pout.

- He doesn’t call you these things in public ever, but in private, you can get them out of him all the time.

Piccolo had come home late. It was in the wee hours of the morning, so you were fast asleep. He entered your bedroom quietly and found you curled up under your covers, snoring quietly.

He smiled and ran his hand over your hair, pushing it out of your face. He stared at you for a moment, admiring your sleeping visage. He then readied himself for bed and settled down beside you.

You briefly woke up, your eyes half open and bleary with sleep. You mumbled something unintelligible.

“Go back to sleep, sweet,” he said gently.

You nodded and snuggled in to him, falling back asleep while safely wrapped in his arms.

🎀🎀🎀

Did you like this? Check out my other works and have a beautiful day! 🩷

[qatarsprint2023]

Hi can I request a lando x f!reader when she’s really sick and how lando takes care of her, like A. fluffy and comforting fic. I just found ur acc and I’m so excited for ur upcoming writings!!!!

~🎀

Thank you sm! Hope you enjoy this one, 🎀<3

Sick days and Race weekends— LN4

Lando discovers that his girlfriend got sick while he was away for a race and didn't want to worry him. — Lando Norris x f!reader, fluff, comfort, reader has a bad case of the flu, no use of y/n word count: ca. 1.2k

Ever since you were a kid you'd never been the type of person to get actually sick. Sure, a little cough and runny nose maybe, but nothing ever really drastic. Personally, you were pretty sure your immune system was simply a wonderful combination of good genes and growing up in the countryside.

Your parents had always told you that the fresh air and spending a lot of time outdoors with some exposure to animals had probably played some part in your never being sick as well and developed your immune system in a way people who grew up in urban areas would never have.

But when you moved to London for uni a little later in life, a huge city with tons of traffic, pollution and surprisingly little greenery, you found yourself getting sick more often than when you lived on your parent's farm surrounded by green grass, fields that stretched for miles and lots of animals. However this time you got sick. Runny nose, aching joints, pounding headache, hacking cough, fever that came and went as it pleased... The whole flu package, really.

You'd already started feeling a little off before Lando left for Austin on Wednesday and it had gradually gotten a little worse each day, but by Friday it all just hit like a wrecking ball. But you being you, decided not to say anything much about it and tell your boyfriend it was just a common cold you were dealing with back home.

He'd done so well in Qualifying on Friday and he should really be concentrating on his upcoming race and not his girlfriend's inane complaints from halfway across the globe. You didn't like worrying people. It didn't feel right plaguing someone else with your problems when surely you could somehow find a way to work it out yourself anyway.

But now it was Monday morning and you had curled up on the couch under the heaviest blanket you could find with a half empty tissue box and a giant mug of tea on the coffee table beside you a few hours ago already. You were cold and shivering like leaves in the wind on an icey autumn day like today, even with your hot drink and the warm blanket thrown across your body.

You couldn't have been more miserable. You felt like you were dying. You couldn't go to work, or leave the house because you simply felt awful and weak. So, you decided to just lay down on the couch and wait for Lando to get home.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting for the familiar sound of a key turning in the lock, you perked up a little at the sound coming from the door across the room. Lando stepped inside and shut the door behind him with a soft sigh slipping past his lips, not noticing you.

"Hey... P2!" you croaked weakly and forced a small smile onto your lips when you saw your boyfriend step into your shared flat, suitcase in hand, his coat and shoes still on as well after he just made his way through Heathrow airport and probably (definitely) went through a mini heart attack too when his luggage didn't immediately come out with everything else from the flight, like he always does when you're flying somewhere.

He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he'd actually heard you call out to him. It was the last thing he expected to hear. Reasonable response, you had to concur— after all, you were supposed to be at work. Then he turned to face the couch and saw you laying there, basically drowning under the heavy fabric of your blanket.

"Hey, hey... What's wrong? Why aren't you at work?" he asked in a voice that showed obvious signs of worry as he quickly kicked his shoes off and went over to you, feeling your forehead with his cold palm. "Jesus. You're basically on fire, baby... I thought you just had a normal cough?!"

"Didn't wanna worry you," you chuckled with an innocent smile, but before you knew it, your chuckle turned into yet another harsh cough. According to your mum, you sounded like an elephant with tuberculosis, like she told you over the phone yesterday. Harsh but true comparison, you had to admit.

Lando groaned and shook his head in an exaggerated way. "Yeah but, you should worry me when you get a fever like this!" However his expression softened to one of sympathy as he sat down beside you on the edge of the beige couch, gently stroking your forehead in an attempt to make you feel more at ease.

"Why didn't you tell me you felt this bad when we talked yesterday?" he frowned, some of his soft curls falling onto his forehead.

"You just got P2 and you sounded so happy about that on the phone, so I didn't wanna dampen the mood," you respond with a shrug.

"The only thing you've got me feeling right now is worried, baby. Come on, you can hardly talk without having a coughing fit," he sighed, putting his arm around you and planting a kiss on the crown of your head. "Have you had anything to eat?"

"Not yet," you sniffled softly and shook your head, rubbing the bridge of your nose with your index finger and thumb. It felt like there was someone playing a damn drum solo against the inside of your skull. "Didn't have the energy to make myself anything more than tea. I feel like death..."

"I know, baby, I know..." Lando sighed softly and gently stroked your cheek with his thumb as he stood up and placed his hands on his hips, looking down at you. "I'll make you some toast, okay? But first let's get you to bed... The couch isn't comfortable enough for when my girl needs to rest. It'll give you a stiff neck, sweetheart."

Lando gently looped his arm around your waist and helped you get up from the couch, a soft groan escaping your throat. He held you upright as you slowly walked over to the bedroom where your boyfriend lied you down in bed and pulled the covers over your shivering body, enveloping you in a warm sea of soft bedsheets.

"Alright..." he said with a sympathetic gaze in his hazel eyes and fluffed up your pillow a little, so you could lay down more comfortably. "I'll make you something and I'll bring you your tea in a minute too. Oh and some of that cough syrup we have as well. I know you don't like it, but I don't like it when you sound like you're gonna cough up your lungs any second. Do you want me to make you some soup later too?"

"You can make soup?" you retorted raspily and covered your mouth as another cough slipped past your chapped lips.

"Well... no... But I can make soup from the can?" Lando suggested with a sheepish grin, which caused you to smile a bit as well. It was so nice to have someone who just wanted to help and make you feel better.

"That'd be nice, thank you..." you replied softly and smiled, though you quickly covered your mouth as he leaned down to kiss you. "No! I'll get you sick too!"

"Well, I sure as hell won't let you sleep alone tonight, so whether I kiss you now or have my arm around you for seven hours tonight doesn't really make a big difference, does it?" he chuckled and gently took your hand away from your face to press a chaste kiss against your pale lips.

"Stay with me afterwards?" you hummed softly, not yet pulling away from the tender sensation of his lips on yours and your hand in his.

"I'll stay as long as you want me to," said Lando in response and gently gave your hip a pat. "But first I'll get you something to eat and your tea from the living room, yeah?"

[thief-of-eggs]

Thinking about an omegaverse radioapple au (still with asexual Alastor) where Alastor is always on suppressants- he hasn’t had a heat in ages (and when he does, they’re never the most pleasant, seeing as he’d rather die than take a lover to bed, even if it would ease the pain)

But having all the new inhabitants in the hotel messes with things, and then he misses a dose of his suppressants and before he knows it- he can feel a heat coming on.

Lucifer can scent it on him, no matter how much the demon tries to hide it. He picks up the particular sweetness of it one night, after Alastor had been missing all day, and with concern growing in his gut- he follows it.

He follows the scent until he’s at Alastor’s bedroom, and he knows he shouldn’t enter- they’ve been together for a little while, but their relationship is still shaky, and if Alastor chose to go to his own bedroom instead of the one they share, then he must have wanted pace- and Lucifer is just about to turn away, until he hears a pained moan, and he can’t help himself.

He pushes inside, finding Alastor laying in a ball in the corner of his room, curled up in a mound of blankets and pillows, shirts of Lucifer’s in his little nest, little pieces of his favorite person scattered around him- and he looks terrible.

His ears are flat on his head, his whole body is trembling and covered in sweat. He doesn’t even notice Lucifer come in, not until the angel is standing before him-

“Leave,” he spits, even as Lucifer’s calming scent washes over him. His whole body aches, every muscle screaming.

Lucifer pauses, his heart aching to see Alastor so pained. “Isn’t there anything I can do to help?”

And Alastor is about to tell him to go fuck himself, when Lucifer suddenly sinks to his knees, reaching out to brush the hair from Alastor’s face- and the contact eases a bit of the fire in his skin, soothes a bit of the raging in his gut.

He doesn’t push him away. Instead, despite himself, he leans his cheek into Lucifer’s palm. Closing his eyes as he breathes in the familiar scent of his alpha.

He hates everything about the position he’s in. Hates how vulnerable, how exposed, how utterly pathetic he is. But the longer Lucifer stays beside him, his scent filling Alastor’s lungs- the more he finds he cannot bear to drive Lucifer out.

He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t express what he needs, doesn’t communicate his wants. He just grabs Lucifer’s wrist and pulls him closer, tugging the blonde into his little nest, where he promptly curls up in his arms.

It’s more contact than he usually allows, but for once, his skin is not prickling every place they meet. Instead, his body feels warm from Lucifer’s touch, a pleasant glow filling his whole being.

Perhaps this is how touch often feels for everyone else.

Lucifer stays with him then, until the worst of his heat is over. Fully clothed, they lay in eachother’s embrace, Alastor allowing Lucifer to scent him, allowing him to card his fingers through his hair, allowing him to run his hand up and down his back.

It’s awful. It’s humiliating.

And it’s also the first time one of his heats has ever been bearable.

(edit: i made this a fic!!! read it here!)

[charliemwrites]

I would PAY Simon to kidnap me and keep me as his pet

I love it so much

Please more when you get the chance (and bodyguard gaz, duh)

Hi! I have not been ignoring this ask, I was deciding what to gift you with. So, since no one has asked - I give you: reader’s reaction to the other two members of 141.

You warm up to Gaz the fastest. So fast, in fact, that Simon is almost jealous. You like Gaz because he seems like the only normal-ish one of the group. He seems genuinely a little apologetic that you got taken from somewhere and are being kept but, really, what could he possibly do in this situation? Nothing. Not against a guy like ghost. Never mind with Johnny on his team. And the cap…

Well, Gaz just tries not to stress you out. He talks to you not at you. Always says, “hi, how’ve you been?” And you’re so baffled by the normalcy of it that he instantly gets you replying and interacting. He makes everything about himself so non-threatening that you have no problem being in the same room as him right away. And he always brings you something. Not bribes, but things he thought you might like. A new ball of yarn, a grow-your-own mushrooms kit, a rock from the desert once.

When Simon asks, trying to get his envy under control you just shrug. “He seems nice.” And that’s that.

As for Price?

Oof.

Simon hasn’t seen you this scared since he first brought you here. The minute you lay eyes on Price from around the corner, you’re skittering off. Simon’s baffled. It’s not instant tolerance like Gaz, or instant dislike, like Johnny. It’s almost how you used to react to him, but this is extreme even compared to that. He even warned you that Price was coming; you didn’t seem concerned at all before that moment!

He finds you tucked up in your room, decidedly off limits and safe. When he asks, you make a miserable “I don’t know” sound.

“Will you come down?” he asks.

“No.”

“Can he come say hi?”

“No.”

Simon figures he’ll give you an hour to calm down. Your eyes were huge.

Eventually you do creep out - though only because you need the restroom. As you’re padding out, intending to barricade yourself again, who turns the corner but Simon’s captain. Worst part is, he’s between you and your bedroom, blocking you in at the end of the hall.

“It’s alright, girl, easy,” he tries to soothe, but you’ve already pancaked yourself to the far wall, breathing hard. “What’s got you so spooked, eh?”

You make a high, distressed noise, curling down and into the corner of when he slowly moves closer. You try to summon up the will to react like you usually do, any anger or offense or something.

He gets within arm’s reach and you slide to the floor, tucked into a ball. He shushes you, nonsense words and promises that he won’t hurt you. He’s not even doing anything; hasn’t done anything. It’s just how Simon would act. You don’t even know why you’re scared.

When you feel scarred knuckles against your cheek you react on instinct, whipping up, mouth open. You stop before you even get your teeth on him, deflating in instant. Everything in you saying Do Not Bite Him.

“Oh? You wanna take a chunk outta me?” he asks, sounding amused. He brushes the backs of his fingers over you lips, offering. “Go on then, if it’ll make you feel better, wild thing.”

You shy away, but there’s really nowhere else to go. Price just sits with you for a while, crouched down, petting at your hair and cheek and even your neck.

“Can I at least see your pretty eyes?” he coaxes.

You blink, swallow thickly, and then force yourself to look up at him. Have trouble maintaining eye contact but manage. For a few seconds anyway.

“See? Wasn’t so bad, was it?” he chuckles, giving you one last pay. “Alright, I’ll let you scurry off now.” And then he stands, turns and walks away without looking back and you feel like you can finally breathe again.

[safetycar-restart]

HOME [CHARLES LECLERC X READER]

NOTE: This is an NSFW Charles Leclerc x reader writing with sub!Charles and dom!reader. If you are under 18 or if this is simply not your vibe, scroll past. Alternatively, if you like what you see here, feel free to stop by my blog for more :))

The Monaco race weekend has never been kind to Charles. He has always poured his heart and soul into that race, for both himself and for his family and fans, yet each and every time it has ended in disappointment.

Charles's fears and worries start to manifest the weekend before the Monaco GP already. He's standoffish and aloof, not accepting the attention he usually craves. He tries to resist falling into your arms, tries his best not to show how badly he wants to just curl up in a ball and wait for the weekend to be over.

No amount of comfort and gentle coaxing can get him to share what's on his mind, which is extremely strange. Normally, you serve as a sounding board for Charles. He adores laying with you at the end of each day and reflecting on things, telling you everything as though he were writing in a journal. But in the days leading up the Monaco GP, he never shares what's on his mind, just remains silent and looks away when you ask.

At first you give him his space, allowing him to process whatever it is that he's feeling. But when Thursday night rolls around and Charles has to be in the car the next day, then you make him talk to you.

You sit him down on the couch, taking his hands into yours and softly whisper how much you love and support him, how the rest of the team and the entire country might have expectations for him, but not you. You love him, his performance would never impact that.

Charles says nothing in response to this. But, he gently slides off the couch and kneels at your feet, his head rested on your thigh. He looks up at you with tears in his eyes and you rest a hand in his hair, allowing him to relax against you. He doesn't say a word, but you know he's letting himself feel all those emotions while he kneels for you, while he trusts you to keep him safe and protected.

He holds your hand walking into the paddock on friday, and he asks that you remain close. He doesn't say anything more but you understand. Everyone else around wants something from him, he wants the one person who just wants him to stay close.

When he gets pole on Saturday, he's ecstatic. He celebrates with the crowd and with the team and does his post qualifying interviews with a smile, but the moment eyes are off him, he's diving into your arms.

That night, he rests against your chest. You're just beginning to think he's fallen asleep when he speaks. He's scared. He's glad he got pole, of course, but he's scared. He knows that now even more pressure will be on him. He's not sure what to do.

You can't help him with the race or with his car, but you can kiss him on his head and give him a little squeeze, promising to stay with him no matter what happens.

When Charles wins the next day, he stands on the top step of the podium and looks down at you while he sings his anthem. He doesn't look at the crowd or his team, just you. This victory couldn't have happened without.

You expect him to go out partying that night, but he refuses. He goes home with you, kneels between your feet again but this time nuzzles higher and higher up your thigh until you get the message and him permission for what he wants. He opens your legs wider and tastes you, keeping his arms folded behind his back because he knows the rules. You know part of his begging for this was because he wanted to show you his love and appreciation, but also because he wanted to be on his knees, to be away from it all.

You drink champagne in bed and sneak a hand down his pants until he's whining and shaking against your shoulder and when he's done, letting him lick your hand clean before offering him more Champagne.

He's no longer afraid.

[theminecraftbee]

sigh okay this year i have actual mob vote opinions. disclaimer: my MAIN opinion is that if i see too much mob vote salt on my dash i'll just block the relevant terms again, and that all three mobs are adorable and i'd like any of them. however, my vague thoughts on them:

crab: i have inherent vault hunters-based crab grudges. the coconut crab appears in my nightmares. however, past that, the crab as an animal is fun, i like crabs alright. the fact it's shown crawling up trees sideways is neat. i'll say mangrove forests are ALREADY one of the loveliest, most alive-feeling biomes, so i don't know if they need an exclusive mob? but it's also realistic for the crab so i'll take it. when it comes to the crab claw itself... many questions. is it an off-hand item? or like create's extendo-reach thing? or what? how MUCH additional reach does it give you? even just two blocks can be wildly useful in my modded experience, but like, is it one or two blocks, or does it double your reach, or what? and does that reach extend to mining at all? the video says it's just block placing, which would make sense from a balance perspective, but does sort of hamstring the claw's usefulness if that's the case; if you misplace a block you're going to have to scaffold over there anyway. if it DOES include mining reach... oh boy, that's a whole new ballgame.

armadillo: cute! i like armadillos! seeing it curled up as a ball, i wonder if it has a block-like form like that? that sounds really fun! like a shulker, or something else you could stand on. (that is PURE speculation, nothing else to suggest that is shown in the video.) it being found in "warm biomes like the savannah" i like more than the mangrove-exclusive crab, especially since the savannah can feel a little sparse and lifeless. i wonder if it's in other warm biomes? as for its effect, it has the most straightforward one: when it gets scared it sheds its scute, and you can use that to make wolf armor. i like wolf armor! wolves have needed some way to make them more survivable for ages! it's not like, got potential to be a massive gamechanger or anything, but it doesn't have to, it's fun!

penguins: by FAR the cutest design. i love that they chose macaroni penguins, excellent choice. the fact they're native to stony shore biomes is also an excellent choice (and far better than choosing a snowy biome; more penguins live in places like the stony shore irl!). the stony shore having penguins also gives it a bit more of the life stony shorelines have irl. their secondary effect, though... honestly, "make boats go faster" doesn't really speak to me? i am enjoying imagining a world where this effect works while iceboating (prepare to rubberband ALL OVER THE PLACE), and i think it would be fun, it just personally compels me the least. which is a shame, because i think the penguins are ABSOLUTELY the cutest!

overall, i think i land towards the armadillo. i like that none of them really have any big, exciting, game changing feature, just nice-to-have. makes it feel less like we miss out on something huge when two of them lose, just miss out on something potentially cute. i still wish the old mob votes could still be added to the game and that the losers here would also be added to the game. i wouldn't be mad if any of these guys won honestly they're all cute and have mildly interesting effects.

and this will be the last time i discuss the mob vote, except maybe to reblog cute art.