#smth smth what about the man you were meant to become smth smth

[bitternace]

73 and Zexion

mirage

[ID: a digital drawing of zexion and young ienzo from kingdom hearts. the colors are flat with chunky uncolored highlights, and the background is geometric figures without form in cold colors that are darker at the bottom and are dull on either end but a bolder blue in the middle, intending to represent water. zexion, shown from the waist up has his hands over his stomach, following the lines of his torso, like a reflection of him, is young ienzo. Zexion's expression is blank, while ienzo's a little forlorn. /End Id.]

[desireangel]

Dark Cherry | Aemond Targaryen

Part One (potentially ??? xoxo - indecision)

Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader and also some Aemond x some random girly pop who could be impliedly understood as ms Alys ;o

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: smut - mdni 18+!!! infidelity, kinda angsty? second-hand smut? reader is a cheeky voyeur, oral (m receiving), talk of sex, masturbation, bad words, very little dialogue, I wrote this in 2 hours and it is barely edited so it may be shite. guys. please tell me if I've missed a warning, luv u xoxo

Author's note: here's a wee smth while I get my head around part 2 of Infernal Desires! the idea I had for this fic was for a multi-part but idk depends on how we're feeling so there will potentially be a part 2 ;D. kisses!!!! <3

Masterlist!

Whatever pretence was in play, you would be the first to admit that you were tired of it. A loveless marriage was nothing less than what you had expected–a union that was entirely for show and born from the political motives of your families. It was only expected.

You tried to convince yourself that you were content with such an arrangement. It suited your ambitions, meant that you could be left alone to do as you please while quenching the thirst to make your family proud. 

Somehow, despite your hesitance and despite your husband’s ignorance toward you, the one thing that you knew you would never truly hold had become your greatest wish. 

The reality was such that you found yourself longing for affection.

Preferably-of course-your husband’s affection. 

Between the forced smiles put on for expectant eyes, the brush of your shoulders whenever you sat next to each other at the dining hall and the gentle caresses at the small of your back until his touch was hurriedly removed once you were again behind closed doors, you had grown an incessant, consuming desire for the prince you were married to. 

Aemond was a man of great beauty and strength. While many had chastised his singular eye and told tales of his ruthless temper, Aemond had grown to be well respected and the object of many lustful gazes.

Eight months had passed since Aemond became your husband and you, his wife. Eight months of tense silences, lonely nights in a bed you had expected to share and eight months of nothing but false affections that were nothing but a performance.

You had considered yourself a romantic right until you felt the loneliness and realities of this marriage. Your naive desires to feel the throes and excitement of love that you read about were subject to a rude awakening the moment you became disgustingly aware of your husbands lack of it. 

Aside from the night of your wedding, Aemond seemed to avoid your bed as if it would burn his skin. Until two months ago, when you had pushed aside the sting on your pride and all but demanded he spare some time for you. 

Friends had warned you that it was hardly special. But if he was kind enough, as few of their husbands were from time to time, he would give you a chance to experience some of the pleasures of your body.

Aemond was hardly a passionate lover, it had seemed. With instruction to simply lift your skirt, he had you laying with your hips at the foot of the bed where he silently and effortlessly fucked his seed into your womb. It had not yet borne fruit despite his fortnightly visits. 

It was never enough. Your body had eventually begun to crave more. In a very raw and unmistakably physical need to find the release it had been denied for so long. Despite Aemond’s assurance on the first nights of your marriage that neither of you were to have any interest in whores or paramours, words and whispers of the prince’s capabilities had picked up over recent weeks and you came to understand that if only Aemond had wanted to, he could give you exactly what your body desired.

Even if you had the same freedoms as men when it came to taking on lovers outside of your marriage, you couldn’t. Admittedly, you’d developed a taste for luxury - a taste only for your husband. Or at least, the fantasy version of Aemond that you had concocted within your head. 

And when your hand made its way between your thighs in the small hours that followed restless nights, the only thoughts that existed in your mind were those of him. Of all the things you had hoped Aemond would guide you to discover about your bodies. Of all the things that you had read about in the books you’d sneak out to find. 

Sometimes, you wondered if Aemond thought of you while he touched himself. The idea of it often crossed your mind and you had since convinced yourself that you had been driven insane. 

Realistically, you knew that the arrangement you had with Aemond was out of necessity. Nothing more. But you were much like him in certain ways - hungry for what you know you deserve, relentless and cunning. But you had little patience left. 

The moment you had decided to make your worth known to your husband wasn’t one you could place a finger on. It was a gradual thing - as you had gently started shifting your attention past the lovers in your books who no longer calmed your lustful needs. 

You wanted him more fiercely than you had wanted for anything in your lifetime.  

So you gently lowered the neckline of your dresses to highlighted the bump of your collarbone, had your maids do your hair so that it framed your face perfectly while accentuating the shape of your neck. You had soon foregone the paler tones your mother had you wear, colours that announced your purity and innocence. The colours that you wore were deeper, richer and more sultry against the tone of your skin. 

With difficult ignorance of the nervous, shy and pious girl your parents had raised for such a match, you forced yourself to seek out Aemond’s gaze with an extra glint in your eyes. You let your once hesitant touches linger with a newfound confidence that stole your breath away whenever Aemond would escort you to and from the dining hall. On the days Aemond would spare time to walk you through the gardens, you made an effort to speak of more than just the weather. 

At times, you felt uneasy about the act you were putting on. Were the prospect of his affections so important to you that you forced yourself to act so differently? In your mind, being a seductress was never so dishonourable as many made it seem but you had hoped this act would pay off in a matter of a few weeks. 

Your impatience becomes painful when you have every other desire at your beck and call. 

But you were mistaken. If anything, Aemond’s indifference had only grown. And at each hardened glance from your head to toe, at each moment in which he continued to ignore you or look past you, your resolve weakened.  

Aemond could not have found you unattractive - this much you knew as a fact. You knew from the way he used to look at you with a gentle fire in his eye and made sure that your every other need had been taken care of. From the way he clenched his jaw in restraint when you would lay back for him, how his grip on your hips and your thighs left marks on your skin as he fucked into you - even if there was little more than a duty being performed. After all, he was still just a man. 

So despite the fact that your efforts were shaping up to be of no use, you didn’t give up. You started taking breakfast in your chambers, requesting Aemond to join you when he was available, dressed in your softest, prettiest nightgowns instead of having dressed up already. 

You made a show of it, unashamed and brazen. Almost surprisingly, Aemond enjoyed the dark cherry more than you could have hoped. There were subtle changes in the way his eye would linger over the dip of your neck, the way his wordless gaze would follow the deep red that would stain and spill from your lips as you bit into a cherry from the bowl of fruit that you shared.

Your conversations have always been comfortable. Aemond may be a brooding, arrogant hardass sometimes but he was always respectful and kind to his you in the time you shared together as husband and wife. But now he would falter, his words getting caught as he watched you gently sucking off the juice of a cherry from your fingers, humming gently as you glance at him with false nonchalance mixed with your best bedroom eyes. 

And it did drive him insane. Aemond had never seen this side of you, much unlike the quiet, prudish woman he had married. But then again, had he ever truly known you? Either way, you had caught the amusement in his gaze and the way he challenged you wordlessly with a shift of his hips and gentle smirk.

Much to your disappointment, little else changed. Nearly three weeks had passed and Aemond had given you little more than those lingering looks and a few stolen breaths. He had at once withdrawn and become increasingly lacklustre, and when you had even tried asking him about his training with Ser Cole, you received no more than curt, blunt answers at each try. 

It had become too much by the time you had retired to your chambers alone once again. The day had been long and uneventful, Helaena had been by your side for most of it which had been nice but you were in no mood to fake an interest in sifting through the performative duties of a princess. 

In all honesty, it was frustrating. You were starting to wear thin on the constant nagging of absolutely everyone about your lack of a child. It has been almost a year and you have failed to perform your duty as a wife, almost a year and you have not missed a single cycle, almost a year and you haven’t blessed the prince with an heir. 

Because, as a lady whose name you hadn’t cared enough to remember had not-so-gently uttered to you over her dreadful playing of a stringed instrument; what was the point of being his wife if you didn’t bed him well enough to carry his child? 

You had, in truth, been distracted. And the idea of carrying the child of a man who only paid you the necessary courtesies out of politeness and good manners made you feel ill. 

Queen Alicent, although you could tell she was inclined to agree with the lady, had placed a gentle yet firm hand on your bicep to calm the anger that had clearly taken you over. With a glare at the loose-lipped woman, you quickly picked up the handkerchief you’d been attempting to embroider and excused yourself. 

If anyone had noticed your absence from the evening meal, which the Queen had always insisted upon eating together, nobody bothered to say anything. 

Over an hour had passed, tossing around in your bed and your eyes stinging from embarrassment. Why was Aemond so averse to you? Why would he stare at you as if you set his blood on fire in one moment and then glance straight past you in the next? What had you done that convinced him so strongly that you were not even worth trying to be familiar with? 

The gods had surely intended to punish you for something in a past life if they were so adamant to trap you in a marriage with a man who would much rather be anywhere other than with you. 

You may as well be strangers to each other. 

The ache of your anger led you straight out of your own chambers and towards his. You spared Ser Tunsley, the knight standing at your door, a harsh glare and snapped at him to give you your privacy otherwise you’d have him stripped of his cloak. He was a timid one, you noticed, and with a nod he stood back, his eyes staring straight past your shoulder in an attempt not to stare at the thin nightgown that clung to your skin. 

It was an outrageous hour and you were of half a mind in your frustration to thank the gods for the empty hallways. In fact, you noticed the lack of an armoured man at the door to Aemond’s chambers and wondered if maybe the prince was elsewhere. 

You stepped towards the door, curiosity peaked at the sound of shifting, followed by some voices and you hesitated. Frowning, you ran through what you would say if Aemond opened the door - there was nothing that would make sense. 

As you stepped closer to the door, a soft light spilled out and you noticed that it was, in fact, just barely ajar. 

It was unlike Aemond to leave his door open and you were certain he would question you sneaking around the hallways in the small hours, dressed only in underclothes. But you ignored the rational voice at the back of your mind and took silent steps so close to the door that it would be cowardly to back out now. 

You couldn’t hear the voices anymore, ears ringing as you held your breath and gently nudged the door while muttering a silent prayer that it wouldn’t make a sound. 

Shock first. Then fear, anger, desire and an all consuming jealousy as you took a moment to understand what you were seeing.  

Aemond was resting at the end of his bed, naked and resting his weight lazily on one arm, his free hand tangled in the dark hair of a slender woman, just as bare as him, kneeling at his feet and moving her head in an up and down motion. Aemond guided her movements with a firm hand, his head tipped back gently. 

He wasn’t wearing his eyepatch. You’d never seen him without it–he never let you. His eye was firmly shut and you caught the glint of the sapphire in place of the other that was stolen from him. The movements of his chest were heavy and you could hear him panting gently, lips gently parted. 

You were unable to tear your eyes off of Aemond. He looked more beautiful than you had ever seen him, under the golden hue of the lamps, his body lean and chiselled–each curve and muscle glowing under the lights. You could see his pleasure, in his expression, the tinting of his skin and the way he roughly tugged at the mystery woman’s hair. A couple strands of his own hair, usually pulled away from his face, fell forward and the flush of his cheeks were starkly pink against the silver of his hair. He let out a breathy groan, murmuring something you couldn’t quite hear as he opened his eye, dark with lust, and gazed down at the woman that was hunched over his lap. The lewd sounds of her mouth on him almost made you gasp and you thanked the gods that Aemond could not see you. Because you could not move if you tried. 

You couldn’t see anything other than the back of her head, and you were glad of it. Because you knew that seeing her face would have been too much and staying hidden and quiet would have been ten times more difficult. Despite the pressure between your thighs, the uncomfortable slick that you felt against your small clothes and the heat that rushed through you from head to toe, you glared viciously at the back of her head. 

Aemond’s breathing stuttered, a string of curses falling carelessly from his lips while he watched the woman as if he were entirely enchanted by her. Despite the fact that you couldn’t really see what she was doing, so expertly that had him in such a state, the entire thing felt obscene. And you could hear her muffled moans, the wetness and her light gagging when Aemond tightened his hold on her hair and thrusted upwards.

Your cheeks burned and your blood felt like lava coursing through your veins. The intensity of your want for him–as he was right now–made you dizzy and you drew in sharp breaths, careful not to make a sound. Because if he turned his head slightly to the left, just for a second, he would see you. You didn’t want to know the consequences. But nothing  that existed among all of the realm could force you to turn around and leave. 

Aemond’s groans were quiet and deep but they grew slightly louder than before, his breath catching as you could see him grow closer to his peak. Your thighs trembled as you pressed them together, barely thinking about how you would be able to escape after he was done–when he would surely see you watching unashamedly. 

The sounds that Aemond was making sent shockwaves straight to your wetness and as you could see his entire body grow visibly tense, hips jerking as his groans turned strained amongst grunts and whispers of just like that and fuck and—a name. 

It was your name. 

You couldn’t help but gasp, clenching around nothing, squeezing and rubbing your thighs together to try and relieve the throbbing of your clit. The woman faltered, much to your satisfaction, and she pulled her head back from him. You couldn’t see past her but her hands remained as they were, biceps moving gently as she continued to touch him. 

“Aemond-” you winced as she said his name, no bother for formality. Her voice was slightly husky and it remained sultry and smooth. “I’m not-”

Your husband’s jaw ticked, squeezing his eye shut and pushing her head down towards his hips again. “I know. Fuck–” he grunted, roughly pushing her further down, cursing as she gagged. She hummed around him. 

Suddenly, the desire in your veins became secondary to the jealousy that burned your lungs and the betrayal that caught in your throat. You knew men were not faithful creatures, and even though part of you had known Aemond had been no different–not with how you have heard the servants speak on a couple occasions–but foolishly, you had hoped that he had been a man of his word. Another naive part of you truly did believe him when he said he would have no other woman. 

Whatever she was doing, however she was doing it and no matter that it was your name that fell from his lips, Aemond was enjoying it. He was praising her–telling her she was his, telling her she was doing so well and letting himself get lost in the pleasure she was giving him. 

It was painful to watch and you cursed your body for yearning so badly for reprieve. You’d become soaked, thighs slick from where you’d dripped down. But you would be damned if you gave in and as Aemond’s hips started jerking, his strained grunts becoming desperate as he chased the peak he was nearing, you pushed yourself away from the door and ran back towards your own chambers. 

The entire scene had seared itself into your brain and you trembled as you shut yourself away in your bedchambers, ignoring whatever questions Ser Tunsley had been asking you. 

Who was that woman? You couldn’t make sense of all the questions that flooded your brain. The emotions that fought for dominance. How had they met? Was she a whore? 

Did they see you? 

Your mind replayed the way he’d groaned your name, unable to help yourself from whimpering at the memory. It didn’t make any sense. Aemond was clearly thinking about you yet he had never so much as spared you more than a heated look - he had never even given you a kiss. 

Aemond had never been so comfortable with you. Not the way he was with her. The way he let her say his name–free of his title, like she was his equal. You had only addressed him without title once, on the night of your wedding. 

You laughed. How silly this all was. 

Despite your arousal, and regardless of your hurt, you were angry. 

How dare he? Did he think so little of you? 

Did he love her? Is that why he never tried for you? 

It was infuriating. And there was little you could do about it. But nonetheless, you saw an opportunity through the tears you scolded yourself for shedding over a man who never gave you what you deserved. 

Aemond would regret it. And he’d learn that his wife was the only woman who could give him what he needs. But for now, you let yourself grieve the Aemond you had led yourself to believe was real. The man who held your hand in his and told you that while he couldn’t be the husband you wanted, he would never disrespect you so much as to let another woman into his bed. 

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello hello! I dunno if you’re taking request but I was thinking if you can write smth silly about reader pulling the “Fellas grab your ladies if your lady fine” trend on Ford :3

You didn’t know how you had gotten put in this predicament where you were standing behind Ford, all the while Mabel was hiding behind the doorway -phone in hand- as she gestured for you to grab Ford by his waist and pull him in close.

Oh wait you did know exactly how you had gotten in this because Mabel came up to you that very same morning, phone in her hand as though it was super glued there, as she shown you this trend couples were doing for public validation and praise; and or to rub their relationship in the publics face.

‘What am I-‘

‘Just watch.’ Mabel exclaimed as she pointed to her phone that she had shoved under your face just as the man grabbed his girlfriend by the waist and pull her in close in tandem with the lyrics; ‘fellas grab your ladies if your ladies fine.’ Just as the video ends and goes back to the beginning.

‘And what was I meant to take away from that exactly?’ You questioned, not understanding the point of anything that was presented to you, especially so early in the morning where all you wanted to do was enjoy your morning drink without having to think so hard. However there’s never been a quiet morning in the Pines household in the history of forever, and each time a member of the Pines Family was usually the source of the unrest.

Ford trying to catch his anomalies that somehow snuck into your room

Stan loudly complaining about his aging body while burning the pancakes because he wasn’t paying attention to it.

Wendy’s loud ass snores. She’s always hanging out at the shack so often you might as well consider her apart of the family as well alongside Soos, Candy and Grenda.

Dipper being Dipper

And now Mabel with this supposedly popular couples trend. You couldn’t catch a break but you loved this family and Ford too much to care about how early it was for their shenanigans.

‘You and Ford should totally do the trend!’ Mable said as she beams at you. ‘The people would love a cute nerdy couple like you two!’

You chuckled as you ruffled the energetic girls’ hair affectingly. ‘I highly doubt your Grunkle Ford would want any part in it, he’s been in the lab all week on a recent discovery. What it is he wouldn’t tell me. He only ran into our room one day to scream THEY’RE PROCREATING and left for the lab.’

‘Please! Please! Please!’ Mabel cried as she clasped her hands together and gave you the cutest pair of puppy eyes ever as you felt your resolve crumble the longer you stared into your niece.

‘Fine.’ You playfully groaned as you allowed the young girl to drag you by your arm and lead you down into the lab where Ford was, only to shove you awkwardly close to Ford while she hide near the doorway, phone in hand.

‘Hello darling.’ Ford greeted without looking up from his work, he claims he could tell apart your footsteps from the rest of his family, but you just assumed that Stan or Dipper or Mabel kept coming down and Ford took the opportunity to learn how each of his family sounded when coming down the stairs through specific things they did.

‘Hello sweetheart.’ You greeted back as you could see Mabel practically on the brink of bursting into confetti with how hard she tried to contain her excitement.

‘Grab him by the waist.’ Mabel mouthed, her eyes becoming comedically large glittery stars. ‘Grab him by the waist!’

You looked back at Ford who was leaned over his desk, looking over his work throughly with his brows furrowed and his glasses slightly drooping off his nose. He looked handsome when he was concentrating but in your eyes Ford was always handsome even when he was explaining to you dungeons, dungeons and even more dungeons.

You looked back at Mabel who had her phone In front of her -most likely recording you- before you took a deep breath and brought your hand to Ford’s waist, quickly pulled him close to you so that his back rested against your chest. Poor Ford was a flustered mess, his cheeks were aflame, his eyes were wide and you could feel how stiff his body was against yours, you couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked in the moment.

‘What’s the meaning behind this y/n.’ Ford asked as he tried to calm his excepted heart rate and regain composure.

You kissed his cheek before nuzzling it slightly. ‘Did you catch all that Mabel?’ You asked, much to Ford’s confusion. ‘Mabel?’

‘Yes! I caught all of that!’ She cried as she popped out from her hiding spot, ‘this is going on the family group chat!’ She adds as she bolts up the stairs giggling and squealing to herself at how cute you and her grunkle Ford were, leaving you and Ford alone.

‘Sorry sweetheart, her puppy eyes are my weakness.’ You confessed as you rested your head against his shoulder, still holding onto his waist and breathing in his scent that never failed to relive you and any and all stress. Ford chuckled as he moved his head to kiss the top of yours, smiling fondly at your weak spot for his grandniece and nephew. ‘It’s alright darling, just let me know next time before you do something so bold, my old heart can only take so many surprises.’ He joked as he rested his hand atop of your own, rubbing the back of it soothingly.

‘I promise.’ You mumbled softly against his shoulder. ‘But you did look cute all flustered, do you like being grabbed by the waist?’ You then asked, only to receive silence on Ford’s and, which made you life your head from his shoulder to see that he was cover the lower half of his face with his hand.

‘Cute.’ You thought yourself, you might do this more often if this is the response you get, it was a power trip you didn’t know you needed over your cute but extremely smart fordsy.

[motherlvr]

hi:D can you do miles!42 with a reader who doesn't really like getting told "watch who ur talking to" or smth bc most fics abt miles!42 is like that and nooo i won't ever let a man say that to me😭 and they like, know how to defend themself so they're pretty independent if thats alr ofc!

ngl i loved writing this, tysm for the req!

wc: 2.1k

pairing: E-42 Miles Morales x Strong, Independent! f! reader

warnings: enemies to lovers, kind of rivalry tbh, cursing, Miles is mean in this one, but gets character development, reader knows how to fight, baddie ong, reader doesn't take miles' bs

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

"You gotta be shitting me." Mumbling under your breath, your eye involuntarily twitched. You glared at Miles like it was his fault for putting you in this situation.

Your glare was reciprocated as he said, "I ain't happy about it either, princesa." You hated when he called you that. It rolled off his tongue with such distaste. "Yeah? Glad we got that in common then." You snipped, irritated.

Miles Gonzalo Morales was a dick. To put it kindly.

He was a stuck-up, close-minded dick. It's like his sole purpose in life was to irk you. The two of you have never been on good terms. He tested your patience every waking moment.

But unfortunately for both of you, your Spanish teacher paired you up as partners for a major project. It would count for a good portion of your grade, so not doing it wasn't an option for you. You had less than two weeks to finish the project, and you weren't going to waste it.

You'd much prefer to do the project alone. One thing you've learned is: if you want something done correctly, do it yourself. And to never put it solely in the hands of a man. But the project was a requirement for the class, so you had no place to argue about it.

Thankfully, today was just a planning day. So it wouldn't be as painful, you hoped.

You showed him a plan you had thought about within only a few minutes and asked, "Thoughts?" He took a short glance at it and told you, "That's trash." A vein almost popped out of your head. You snapped, "You got any better ideas then?"

"Yea, anythin' other than that." He told you mindlessly. You had half a mind to make his braided head become real familiar with the cold surface of his desk. Around ten minutes later, he had finally come up with something. It wasn't that great, but at least he was semi-cooperative. You took one look at his plan and decided to turn the tables on him. You said, "You couldn't have come up with anything better? Shit's worse than my idea."

You could see him grip his pencil just a bit tighter, no doubt irritated by now. "Nah, watch your mouth." He told you, and you were unsure of how serious he was being. "Watch my mouth? You needa watch how when you turn around, one of your precious braids will be gone." You said as you made a snipping motion with your fingers. He protectively grabbed onto his braids, "Yo chill, ma."

As Spanish class progressed, everything only went downhill from there. He always seemed to hate every idea you had or had something to say. He groaned, "Woman, I swear. Your ideas are shit." Your former hopes of a peaceful partnership were long gone.

His choice of words alone irked you as you replied, "See, that's what you're not gonna call me. And if we're gonna be partners, you need to act decent for once. Get it together, Morales." You set clear boundaries as you pointed a finger at him. Surprisingly, he obliged. He looked like he made a revelation as he shook his head. "Nah, you right. That was outta line." The moment was oddly tranquil until he opened his mouth again. "I meant: I swear, your ideas are fucking terrible."

From that point further, the hopes of having a normal, mature, conversation were fleeting. The majority of the class was spent bickering rather than working on the task at hand.

You were one of the very few people that tested him. You gave him a challenge, while most people wouldn't utter a single complaint.

Eventually, at the end of the class, the two of you finally landed on an idea to carry out. A true miracle.

The next week in Spanish class passed and the days were cutting it closer and closer to the deadline. But there was still much work to be done. So, begrudgingly, you both had to work on it out of school. After Spanish, you were packing up your things when you asked him, "My place or yours?" His response was immediate. "My place. I'll give you my address. Come over after school, 'ight?" He said, writing down his address and handing it to you.

You accepted it and said, "Alright. Are your parents good with me coming over?" You questioned if he even had the decency to check first. Although you couldn't stand him most of the time, you didn't want to intrude on his family. He shrugged it off, "Yeah my ma's good with it. Already told her."

He wasn't about to tell you that his mother demanded the project was done at his house so she could keep a keen eye on the both of you.

You were dreading the final bell of the day. Spending more time than legally required with Miles wasn't your ideal image of fun. As the school day ended, you walked over to Miles' house.

Knocking on the door, it was soon opened by no one other than Miles' mother. She was expecting you, as a smile adorned her face. You greeted her, "¡Hola, Señora Morales! Gracias por invitarme a tu casa." (Hi, Mrs. Morales! Thank you for inviting me to your house.)

She widened her eyes at you, "¡Claro! ¿Cómo estás?" (of course, how are you?) She asked you with a sweet smile. You replied and reciprocated a smile, "Bien, ¿usted?" (good, you?) To which she responded, "Muy bien, gracias." (very good, thank you) As you put down your things, you noticed Miles was standing only a few feet away. His mother pulled Miles to the side and whispered, "She speaks Spanish, I like her." Not wanting to give away that she was a loud whisperer, you concealed a small laugh. It's a wonder how Miles turned out like that. His mother's wonderful. You knew she raised him better.

After his mother was done speaking to him, Miles led you to his room. His mother called out, "¡Deja la puerta abierta!" (leave the door open!) "Si, mami." He said back in an unusually nice tone.

You previously believed Miles Morales was a universal dick. But you soon realized you were somewhat wrong. He was a dick. To everyone except his mother, it seemed.

As you both settled down to start working on the project, you grinned at him like you had just found out a Federal-level secret. "You're such a momma's boy." You said.

His head whipped to you like you knew something you shouldn't. "No one would believe you." He said. You teased, "Oh, everyone would. Trust."

This was the most civil conversation the both of you have ever held within your whole history of knowing Miles. The afternoon was sprinkled with light-hearted jokes here and there, and it wasn't as painful as you initially believed. Needless to say, being forcibly confined in a space with Miles went much smoother than you could've ever anticipated. The project was progressing for once. And so was your relationship with Miles.

A few days later, you were in a better mood than regular. Within the past few days, Miles has been more tolerable. Maybe even likable. Apparently, you were in too good of a mood. You must've appeared too approachable today.

As you were walking in the hallways of school to your next class, a guy you didn't recognize slung an arm around your shoulders and said, "Hey, what's good jit?" You immediately pushed his arm off. He reeked of an excessive usage of cologne. You winced at his stench. "Don't call me that." You assertively said. But he only took it as a challenge. He said with a wink, "You tryna play hard to get? Alright, I'll play along."

"I'm not 'playing hard to get'," You mocked with air quotations. Dumbing it down, you continued, "I don't want you." Could a girl make it any more obvious?

Your words went straight over his oversized head. He said with a disgusting smirk, "I can change your mind." Your face visibly grimaced at his desperate attempt, "Not even baby Jesus could change my mind."

He was starting to get agitated at this point, "Nah, why you trippin', girl?" he said. You immediately retorted, "Why can't you take a damn hint?"

"C'mon, I know you want me. Gimme a chance." He said. You were sick and tired of this interaction, so you just decided to walk away. Turning your back, you tried to escape this conversation. But he grabbed your hand to prevent you from leaving. "Aye, where you goin'?"

You tried to be patient. And where did patience get you? Nowhere. In your mind, this guy was way too testosterone-deficient to be talking tough to you. There was nothing worse than a teenage boy. More importantly, a boy that didn't know what 'no' means.

And in an instant, the sound of a slap resounded throughout the hallway.

He looked like he was about to start crying. Holding his cheek in pain, he sneered, "Fuck you, bitch. You ain't shit anyway. I ain't even want you." But as you tried to walk away once again, he placed a tight grip on your shoulder to prevent you from escaping.

Miles was skipping class and wandering in the hallways when he saw you. From your body language, he could tell you were uncomfortable. His eyes glanced toward the guy's grip on your shoulder, and Miles suddenly understood the situation. He could see where this was heading. Or at least, he believed he did. Miles was about to intervene when within the blink of an eye, you had flipped the guy on his back and onto the floor.

You told the boy on the floor, "Don't try that shit again. With me or any other woman, got it?" Groaning in agony, the guy whimpered in response, and you took it as a 'yes'.

The guy was no André the Giant, but it impressed the hell out of Miles nonetheless. Since when could you do that? He questioned himself. Miles had to prevent his jaw from dropping. He was suddenly glad he never pushed you that far. You walked away unbothered as if nothing had happened. He gained a newfound respect for you. But that would have to stay unspoken.

Once Spanish class rolled around, you realized it was the second to last day you had to finish the project, so you were working extra diligently in Spanish class. You told Miles, "Alright, I finished decorating it. What do you think?" showing him the project. Not that you cared what he thought, but it would make this whole process much easier if he wouldn't shit on your every move. You've had your daily dose of asshole for the day. Almost an overdose, really.

A few moments passed by where he stared at the project, and then back to you. Fully expecting Miles to be his usual asshole self, you said, "Spit it out. What is it?" You waved your hand in front of his face. He swatted your hand away and replied, "I ain't gonna hold you, it's a pretty solid project so far."

You raised a brow at him, and suspiciously asked, "Really?" This was the first time he didn't have any retort to say. "Yeah, I think you're great, ma." He said. You cheekily grinned at him as he tried to correct himself, "I meant, great at the project. Yeah. The project." He almost stumbled on his words. He never did that. He was always collected. What was up with him? It was definitely a sudden change, but you weren't complaining.

There was only a small portion of the project left to do by the end of the class, so Miles suggested finishing it at his house.

This time after school, the both of you walked together to his house. As you worked on the project in his room, you noticed he wasn't getting much done. It seemed like he was in his head, whatever goes on in there. As you glanced up, he locked eyes with you. You hadn't a clue what he was thinking.

You originally would've preferred to do the project yourself, but if you had to have a partner, you believed the work should be divided equally. You weren't going to carry the whole project on your back.

"Why're you slacking, Miles? Our time is limited, y'know." "Ion know. Mind's elsewhere." He shrugged. It was subtle, but you noticed his glance travel to your lips. You grinned and took the opportunity to tease, "What, you want a kiss or somethin'?" You said it mainly as a joke. Sure, maybe you liked the way he gave you a challenge everyday. You wouldn't blatantly admit it, but it was refreshing to be with someone that actually cared about their work. But much to your surprise, he ran his hand over the back of his braids and said. "Shi, maybe it would motivate me. You feel me?"

Not expecting him to agree, you said, "I mean, alright. If you get off your ass, maybe I'll give you one." You tried to say as casually as you could. But you couldn't deny the fact that you were growing fond of him. You were internally conflicted as you wanted to hate him, but couldn't. In reality, it was far from hate.

Miles couldn't exactly pinpoint the moment his detest for you faded away and was replaced with something different. An emotion he rarely felt. Seeing you singlehandedly take on a guy was only fueling it for him. He quickly started working harder on his part. You mentally praised yourself. After a few silent moments, he spoke up, "Yo, I'm basically finished."

He was bullshitting, and you knew it. As you looked at his part of the project, he still had a good chunk to finish. But you caved and moved closer to him. Holding a hand to his face, you peppered a light kiss to the corner of his mouth, just barely avoiding his mouth.

As usual, he had something to say, "Don't play, mami." He resisted the urge to press his lips to yours until they were numb. You simply smiled at him and replied, "Yeah? Keep workin' and you'll earn a real one."

Immediately, Miles got right back to working on his part of the project without another complaint. You've never seen him work so studiously.

Pleased to say, with your motivation, Miles was more productive that day than all the other days combined.

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

taglist! please lmk if u want to be added 🫶

@l5byrinth @iamspooderman

[mustainegf]

IMAGINE CLEANING UP JAMES AFTER HE GOT IN A FIGHT W DAVE AND HES LIKE UPSET BECAUSE LIKE DAVE ALWAYS DOES THAT OR SMTH OMG😽😽

STOP OMG THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA

𝐁𝐑𝐔���𝐒𝐄𝐒 ¹⁹⁸²

I sat on the couch in the small living room in El Cerrito, flipping through a magazine that I had already read at least three times. I wasn't really paying much heed to the words. My mind kept drifting back to James.

He'd been spending more time with the band lately, and I knew it meant a lot to him. Metallica was starting to gain momentum, and while I could see the gleam in his eye when he spoke about their music, I could also see the strain. There was friction between him and Dave Mustaine, their lead guitarist. Dave could be volatile sometimes, a mess of anger and talent and booze. James had said more than once how it was like walking on eggshells around him.

I listened to the creak of the front door. First to step inside was James, followed by Ron, their bassist. But it was James that had my full attention. His face was a mess, blood trickling from a split lip, a darkening bruise setting across his cheek and eye, and a cut just above his eyebrow. He'd gone twelve rounds in a boxing ring by the look of him.

“Jesus, James, what happened?" I shot up from the couch.

"Nothing," he muttered, eyes flashing with anger. He winced, wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand, smearing the blood.

Ron let out a tired sigh, full of exasperation. "Dave. Again."

Irritation took hold of me. I hadn't expected this. I turned to James, still standing in the doorway, lost and furious all at the same time, mostly confused.

"Come on, let's get ya cleaned up," I said softer now. James didn't argue, which just told me how bad he was feeling.

We walked down the narrow hall toward the bathroom, and I flipped on the light. The harsh fluorescent bulb buzzed on, lighting up the tiny tiled room. I motioned that he take a seat on the edge of the tub. He sank down onto it slowly as if he were an old man whose bones ached from years of hard work.

I pulled a washcloth from the shelf and turned the tap, running the water warm. There was something in the air, something that was only ever there when James and I were alone. I dipped the cloth in, wrung it out, then hunched to my knees in front of him.

"This might sting a bit," I whispered, laying the cloth to the cut above his eyebrow.

He winced, but didn't pull away. Instead, he locked eyes with me, those beautiful, innocent blues. It was just us, his breath blending with mine, the sound of water dripping from the cloth, the warmth of his skin beneath my fingers.

"What happened, James?" I whispered. I was still looking at his injuries, saddened that James had become a punching bag or sorts for Dave. James was always shy, reserved, that just made him an easier target.

He was stuttering, his struggling to find their first move. "Dave's dog… it jumped up onto Ron's car, scratched the paint... I… I pushed it away. I didn't wanna hurt it or anything, but Dave… um well, you know how he is when he's had a few drinks."

I nodded, encouraging him to continue. I knew Dave could be a nasty drunk, but I needed to hear the rest.

"He just lost it. Swung at me before I even knew what was happening. And… I'm not a fighter, you know that. I didn't want to fight him, but fuck, I couldn't just stand there and take it either."

Guilt was overtaking his gaze. He was always the first to beat himself up over something, to take on blame that wasn't entirely his. That was one of the things I admired about him, his feeling, his empathy.

"I feel like shit," he muttered, his voice breaking just a little. "Not just cause of the fight, but… I shouldn't have shoved the dog. I didn't mean to hurt it."

"You were just trying to protect Ron's car," I said, moving the cloth to his split lip, dabbing away the dried blood. "Dave overreacted, and you know it. Yeah maybe you did something shitty, that doesn't give Dave the right to beat the living shit out of you." I scoff.

He let out a shaking breath and leaned into my contact, soaking into the cloth and leaving the shy young man he really was. "Maybe. But I hate this. All of it. The fighting, the... We're supposed to be makin' fuckin' music."

My heart broke for him. Beneath it all, feelings we had toward one another hovered just on the edge, begging to reach each other, to meet and forever bind.

"I know, James. I know." I continued to clean his wounds slowly. "You're trying your best. That's all anyone can ask."

"Thanks," he whispered finally. "For bein' here, you know..."

"Where else would I be?" I whispered, mainly in an attempt to lighten the moment, though it was obvious to anybody that my words were anything but casual. I couldn't fathom me being anywhere else at a time when he needed me.

When I was done, I rinsed the cloth and folded it neatly, placing it on the sink. I turned back to him an, before I could really think about was I was doing, I leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his bruised cheek, careful not to apply too much pressure to his wound.

The seconds stuck to our hearts, hardening like candy, a glaze to not be forgotten. His skin was warm beneath my lips, and I could feel the faint little indents of his acne scarring, something that I'd always found cute about him. When I pulled back, our eyes stuck once more. Maybe we weren't ready to put it into words yet, but it was there, tying us together, tightening.

"I'm here, James. I'll always be here," I murmured, knowing he would understand the underlying meaning.

[fxrmuladaydreams]

Hiii!! For Oscar's weekend could you do a sfw fic where Oscar and reader have been friends for a few years, reader is an F1 journalist, they met when she started working at the paddock, and they compliment each other well, she's really sunshine-y and bubbly, speaks a lot, but also has anxiety, and Oscar is, well, Oscar. They are out or smth and a guy starts bothering reader, so Oscar goes over to her and says he's her boyfriend or something and kisses her. Then I'll let you choose the rest, with the prompt: "There's a reason why I kissed you, you idiot" or smth like that?

Thank you, and sorry if this doesn't make too much sense, it's my first request, thank youuu.

send in requests (sfw & nsfw) for oscar weekend

The two of you were perfect for each other, a match made in heaven. Anyone in the paddock could see it, lord knows Oscar’s had to deal with Lando’s endless teasing about it. Even fans could see it in interviews, though they couldn’t really see you, they could clearly see the lovestruck look on the Aussie’s face as he listened to you ask him questions.

It wasn’t uncommon for the journalists and the drivers to form a sort of relationship, with the overlap of retired drivers that had decided to try their hand at commentary, but an actual friendship was rare.

Even then that didn’t stop a friendship from blooming with the younger McLaren driver. A friendship that often toed the line between platonic and romantic.

You found yourself spending more and more time at the McLaren garages, at first hoping to catch a glimpse of the young Australian, but now because he had mentioned that he’d like to hang out with you whenever you had free time in the paddock.

Photos and videos of the two of you in the paddock had begun to surface. Most of which were of you talking, usually looking down at the ground or your hands that were gesturing around, with Oscar tilting his head down, listening intently to every word from your mouth with a smile on his face.

Fans had begun comparing the two of you to Rapunzel and Flynn Rider, posting side by side photos of the two of you, and Rapunzel and Flynn on the boat. You blushed and waved them off when they were sent to you, positive that people were looking too far into your relationship with Oscar, that he simply thought of you as a friend, nothing less, and nothing more.

You were wrong of course, so very wrong. Oscar adored you. He loved having you around, he felt it was easier to open up. He had been so passive during his rookie season that it had become a label for him to wear. With you around, he felt like he could let his true personality shine through. He could make sarcastic quips and could be more outgoing.

So of course he’d asked you to accompany him to a club Lando had insisted they go to after a race weekend. You agreed, knowing that it wasn’t really Oscar’s scene, nor was it yours but you knew you’d go anywhere if it meant you were going with him.

You made sure to keep close to Oscar while in the club, both of you tucked away in a corner. You tried to ignore the feeling of his arm wrapped around your waist and the heat radiating from his body as you stood pressed against him.

He kept his eyes trained on the crowds in the club, knowing full well that if he were to look down at you he may end up doing something he’d regret.

“I’m gonna get us some drinks.” He leans down to say in your ear.

You nod up at him, giving him a small smile. The smile falls off your face as soon as he steps away. You feel even more crowded than you did when Oscar was there. There are people everywhere, and you quickly lose sight of Oscar as he makes his way to the bar.

“Hey.” A voice says next to you.

It’s a man, a man that happens to be standing far too close for your liking.

“Hi.” You say, taking a step back.

He gives you a smirk, looking you up and down. “What are you doing here all alone?”

You glance in the direction Oscar went, still unable to see him, then at the DJ booth, where Lando stands with a few other people, unaware of anything outside his little circle.

“I’m actually here with-”

“Her boyfriend.”

You turn to see Oscar and let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. He stands tall, his chest puffed out a bit, and his eyes daring the offending man to continue talking to you. One of his arms wraps around you, pulling you into his side.

“You can be on your way now.” Oscar grits out.

“Sorry man, I didn’t realize she was taken.” The man raises his hands as if surrendering and melts back into the crowds.

“Thanks Os, he was making me really uncomfortable.” You tell him.

“I could tell.” He furrows his brows, still looking into the crowd. “He’s watching us.”

One of your hands instinctively holds onto his bicep. “What should we do?”

Oscar could see the man making his way towards them again. He gently cups your face so you’re looking up at him.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

People say they experience fireworks and butterflies when they kiss the person they love. Neither of those is true for your kiss with Oscar.

The club feels silent, or muted. Like everything has gone quiet in your world except for Oscar. All you can focus on is his body as it leans into yours, his hands as they move from your face to the back of your head, how his hair swoops down brushing against your forehead.

You feel dizzy when he pulls away, disoriented. He clears his throat, and turns to look back into the crowd again.

“He’s gone.”

“Good.” You squeak out, trying to compose yourself.

You stand together awkwardly, both of you afraid of what has happened between you.

“Do you wanna head back to the hotel?” Oscar asks.

You nod.

He places a hand on the small of your back and guides you to the exit, making sure to keep you in front of him.

The walk back to the hotel is filled with more awkward silence. You can’t help but notice he’s keeping a larger distance between you than normal.

“Are things going to be… different? Between us?” Oscar asks. He keeps his head down, too afraid to look at you.

“Do you want things to be different?” You ask him quietly.

He huffs out a laugh. “There’s a reason why I kissed you.” He glances over at you, then sighs. “I mean, it was something I wanted to do for a while now. I guess it took some dickwad making you uncomfortable for me to finally get the balls to do it.”

You let out a laugh at his phrasing. “Well, if it makes you feel any better,” you take his hand in yours, linking your fingers together “I’ve wanted that too.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” You nod, pulling him closer.

“Good, then you won’t mind if I do it again? For real this time?”

“Absolutely not.” You grin up at him.

[svgvru]

✮ 𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗡𝗜𝗘 𝗔𝗦𝗞𝗘𝗗: idk if you'll accept this request, but some jjk men x male reader head-canons of them taking care of depressed!reader? (they're secretlyin love with him) maybe a gf or friend died or smth and they notice reader is becoming depressed?

𝗗𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗔𝗖𝗧! ꒰ gojo, geto, nanami, yuuta / m!reader ꒱: mentions of death,depression, weight loss, panic attacks, ptsd, and anxiety. angst, hurt/comfort, these hcs are alot take caution.

𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑 isnt for the faint of heart, but sometimes there is no choice. and something that comes with the price of being a sorcerer is that death constantly surrounds you. whether or not your partner is a sorcerer or not, they could be killed at any moment. and you were aware of that, but in the moment pain unlike any other struck. it hurt, it burned, it made you want to throw things, fight, anything to relief the pain. they watched when you brutally killed the cause of your partner's death, anger and grief coated on your face. it hurt for them to see you like this. so broken, unlike how you are normally. when they wished they were with you, that you didn't already have someone, thi sis not what they meant. so they do everything in their power to help you feel better.

SATORU GOJO

꒰ satoru would be the man to give you some space. whether it was him during his teenage years or him in his adult life. he understands how it feels to lose someone, and to grief. so at first he gives youspace, offering help to you if you need it, carefully keeping watch on you while sticking to a distance. and after a while, bandage or blindfold, he could tell something was wrong. you stopped talking, stopped eating, your uniform didn't quite fit anymore. he didn't notice it until he thought about the times youpushed away his generous offers of sweet treats. he noticed the eyebags, and the dullness of your once bright eyes. he had to help.

꒰ the regret (PTSD) that he wasn't able to save his best friend years ago still stuck to him. he mentally punished himself for missing the signs that something was wrong, that suguru needed. there was no way, he was going to let the man he loves so much reach the level that suguru went to. he quicklyand desperately lunged to help. he reached out hishand and no matter if you pushed him away, cursed him out, threw something at him, he'll drop infinity and wrap you in his gargantuan arms and gave you ahug you desprately needed. he gives you the intimacy you pushed away from. he lets you cry on intimacy you pushed away from. he lets you cry on his shoulder, just holding you, no matter how long it takes, he'll hold you until you fall asleep in his arms. he'd never put you down, he probably wouldn't say a word.

꒰ talk? he'll listen. need to punch something? he'll train with you. his hands were gentlewith you, they wipe away your tears and hold you close, giving you the warmth you so desperately need. and slowly but surely he'l encourage you. he'll delicately push you to hang out with him and shoko once in a while. he'll hand you small meals that get abit bigger after a certain time. he'l give you his sweets and ever so carefully slide his hand intoyours. and if you jerk back he won't get mad, hell be hurt, but he understands. he respects your boundaries. but if you let him hold your hand, you'll see the happiest satoru giggling about some prankhe pulled on nanami. he'l slowly do somewhat romantic things, or he'll plan things that force you to socialize.

꒰ would carefully test the waters with you throughtout the years. he never wanted to be too soon with making his feelings known, so he was patient and waited until you looked much healthier. he waits until you finally start choosing to social,choosing to smile, to go on missions again. satoru gojo loves you, he always will, even if you don't love him back. but he'll always make subtle tries. whether it be jokes or slight touches, testing what he can and cannot do. regardless, he's there for you. no matterwhat. he might not be the best at communicating his emotions, or comforting your own. but he lets you know he's there, waiting with a free hug. as afriend or boyfriend. and if he gets to call you his husband? that's even better.

SUGURU GETO

꒰ suguru would also be someone who tries togive you space, but he just doesn't. like most jujutsu sorcerers do, he understands the pain of losing someone. and he knows what happened to himself after amanai's death. he never wants you to go through the same struggle he went through. so while he'l let you grieve how you do, he's paying close attention to and sticking to you, making sure youdon't decline. he'd do anything for you to make youheal correctly instead of just temporaryily stapling the wound like he did. whether that be sitting fully clothed in the bath with you, or being the big spoon and holding you for hours. if you just couldn't keepup with your hygiene like you used to, he'l cut your hair for you, help you brush your teeth. if you really need help bathing, he'll help with that too. he'll just remain extremely concerned for your wellbeing.

꒰ when i say watches you, i mean watches you. there's no "summer stress" excuse with him. (i think) he's one to be gentle with you, while be firm. he's not one to yell at you, but will use a stern voice to encourage you if need be. if you are one to have panic attacks, the first time it happened, it freaked him out. he pretty much didn't leave you after that. however, he learned how to calm you down, how to help. its hurts him to see such a strong man so ruined, and the curse that harmed your partner was by far one of the worst tasting ones. but no matter what, he'll hold you. your back to his chest and his arms wrapped securely around you, encouraging you to take deep breaths, attempting to ground you in any way he could.

꒰ this experience is probably one where the two of you get closer. he'd never, push you too far, or even try anything intimate with you unless you let him. the farthest he's ever gone is maybe a hug that he got a nod of approval for. but if you need it, he'll cradle your head to his chest and likely hum to get you to fall asleep (something he used to do with nanako and mimiko). after a while, his humming isone of the only ways to get you to fall asleep. and he'll do it everytime without fail. suguru wants you, he does. and every night he hums to help you sleephe wishes he could hold you and kiss your foreheadhe wishes he could provide more intimate comfort, he wouldn't dare ask for. however, when your eyes bags start to disappear and your no longer looking as ifyour lugging around your limbs he finds the tiniest bit of hope. but no matter what, suguru is a man of consent. and he'll wait, and wait. carefully takingcare of you, treating you like glass, while hee ncourages you do things. he'll wait until he can finally hold your hand. the time suguru geto would wait for you never has a limit. he'll always wait for you, whether it be with a comforting hug or a kiss.

KENTO NANAMI

꒰ who better to understand you than him? kento nanami who lost his other half, Yuu Haibara, at the age of 16. he understands perfectly, which is why he doesn't leave you alone. if you explicitly ask for space, he'll give it to you. but otherwise, he's not leaving you be at all. he knows your a strong man, he's seen you fight. but nothing could break a man more than losing the person he loves. and he saw you lose your person and his heart broke along with yours. this man cannot stand seeing you sad ordepressed. the second he notices signs that go beyond the five stages of grief, he interferes. like suguru, he's one to be gentle while using a firm tone. he'll hold you like you're glass, but he'll also drag youalong to supervise gojo's students. he'll let you pour your feelinga out on him, but he'll tell you eat a quarter, then a half, then three-fourths, then the whole meal. he won't be aggressive, but he'll still be like.."eat" (gradually over time though! he doesn't want to push you that rough).

꒰ now he coped by being a workaholic, if your that type he has to dive into hypocrite mode and tell you to sit down for once. if you don't cope that way, but another negative way, he will do anything in hispower to stop you. if something he does in particular comforts you, then he'll keep doing it. he'll speak to you calmly, and let you rest your head on hisshoulder despite not being a touchy person. if need be he'll let you sleep over at his apartment and personally cook you breakfast. and despite how annoying gojo may be, kento does recognize that he often raises the atmosphere of the room to being more playful, so he does suggest hanging out with gojo and his students a lot.

꒰ now he's not an intimate person, and i don't think he'd ever try anything intimate with you. he understands that loosing a part of you hurts, and he would never accidentally hurt you by trying to be bold. he'salso not a physically intimate person. so yes, he does love you, so much. he'd do anything for you, but he'd never outright say or show it, especially after your tradegy. even years later, he'd likely not say much about his feelings. someone like gojo would have to convince him to say something to you or else he'l be stuck with the feeling unrequited love till the day he dies. but regardless, he respects boundaries and doesn't try to be as risky. if you don't like him, he'll have to deal with that. if you do decide to give it atry, he's literally ecstatic, but only in his head. he'll give you one his rare smiles and maybe hold yourhand.

YUUTA OKKOTSU

꒰ (OH GOD). yuuta's almost sharing the experience with you. he's re-experiencing what he went through, and he hates it. not that he would regret his relationship rika, but rather he hates that he has to experience you going through what he had to. hes so scrambly and worried. his mind is constantly running through different thoughts and how to help you. he likes you, so of course hell help you. but how? he gets anxious that he's bothering you, thathes making the process worse as he tries to stick toyou and let you talk about it him. (oh, its over for him if your an angry griever). regardless, yuuta has good ears. as in he's a good listener. he'd let you ramble, scream (he'd jump), cry, anything. he'd listen to youand validate your feelings. if you'llet him he'd carefully play with your hair and tell you he understands, he'l tell you how he'll do anything to help. i also think he's fantastic at hugs. to matter how jittery or anxious he may be, if you need a good hug and shoulder to cry on, he's right there.

꒰ when it comes to your physical health, he doesn't play. he's still kind of nervous when it comesto encouraging you. but if he starts to notic eeyebags, or loss in your weight (trust. hell notice), he immediately does everything in his power to help you. and he tries to be as happy as he can, thinking that maybe his happiness would eventually spread to you, or at least boost your attitude. he'd run to youwill a meal the both of you can share so you don't feel intimidating by having to eat a whole meal again, if you stopped. he'd suggest the both of you getting haircuts together if you let your hair grow too long. when it comes to stuff like that he suggets doing it together so you don't feel alone, so you don't feel like your terrible for letting this happen. if your hygiene got bad he'd never ridicule you or anything. yuuta would tell you its okay and like i said, offer getting haircuts for the both of you, offer getting clothes together, he'd try and encorperate your schedules together without being too pushy.

꒰ yuuta would be very nervous when it comes to the fact that he still loves you. the last time he was remotely in love with someone, he got hit by car and he accidentally cursed her. he's never really experienced healthy romance, or a a healthy life. he never really desired love, with the assumption rika would always come in between, preventing him from having healthy human interactions. but when it came to you, he's never wanted a relationship so bad. and he still wants you, but in understanding what its like to lose someone you love, he never pushes. he never tries to touch you too intimately or suggest intimate things. he's patient, he'll wait for you if he needs to. even if you don't like him like that, he'll always be available to you as someone you can go to for anything. he'd be in pain just like he was when you started dating someone else. but he knows its painful and hard to come back from losing someone so important. if you do heal, if you do want him like he wants you, he'd probably cry. but for right now he'll just remain someone you could trust and talk to.

꒰ n: repost from my original acc! i still hope i did this, and their characters, justice tho. ꒱

[zeyris-daydreams]

Betrayal?

╰─➤ Tartaglia x reader

So I tried rizzing Childe bot and they were smart so I wrote smth inspired on that. Not smut this time wow!! But it's implied they fuck

//not stated whether reader has a vision or not, in which you want to leave the Fatui. (Or in which you end up getting demolished by a harbinger)

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You were one of the lower rank Fatui members who worked under the eleventh Harbinger, Tartaglia. Although very far from having a position of significance, you still bumped into the Harbinger quite a lot.

You weren't that good at that fighting, nor you could spy that well. And yet for some reason here you were again, in some training area with Tarta- Childe. He'd rather you call him that.

Being in the fatui was mostly caused by your desperate want to get out of poverty. Being in the Fatui gave you many opportunities, whether it was the financial stability, or traveling to fulfill your duties.

Most importantly, being in the Fatui easily allowed you access to information from around the world. Even if now it was unnecessary.

After finally snapping out of your thoughts you noticed that the harbinger had his hand out for you, and you took it. With ease he pulled you from the floor. "If you keep being such a lightweight you'll hardly stand a chance in combat"

He always said that. It didn't matter if you exercised to put on more muscle, or took heavier weapons. Childe only said it to make fun of you in some way or another, these dead ocean blue eyes focused on you for a moment, before he looked to the entrance of the training area.

"I will hardly need to stand a chance in combat" you murmured, still in thought. Maybe you didn't realise what you said, taking your weapon to walk over to the wall, leaning against the pillar. At least you had some water near you, taking the bottle to drink.

You weren't sure why, but the harbinger had an odd habit of flexing his vision, simply using it to collect a round droplet of water, popping it into his mouth. It sure felt odd.

"Why?"

Maybe the question only clicked now. "Why what?"

"You said you'd hardly need to stand a chance in combat, I'm asking why. Or is it that you want to keep being beaten by your superior?" He snickered, jabbing you lightly in the side with his elbow. "Hey- no?"

Truth was, you hardly had the will to fight. It was always terribly hard to get out of the Fatui, but aside from having somewhat of a stable life now, you had no much reason to be there.

Working under the eleventh Harbinger was odd, in fact you applied to work under Columbina. And yet you only had the qualities that barely fit for Tartaglia's standard.

So you took the job that was left for you, to work under him. It wasn't the most desirable, but after months you simply get used to that.

Uncomfortable things become eased into you as your brain adapts to reduce stress.

Increase survival. And working with Childe was hardly ever a stable experience.

"Oh, sorry. I was honestly really deep in thought, theoretically speaking. The seargant I was working with left the Fatui, so I wonder what happened with him"

You played with the bottle that held your water, not daring to look at Childe. By then you knew his tricks; even if he'd ask and avoid the topic, play pretend, he was smart. Like a fox, cunning. Quiet.

Waiting.

"After a while you simply get used to other people, so I meant to ask if he's still alive, even after committing such a thing."

Childe was quiet, his gloved fingers swiping down the edge of his bow. "Whatever happened to him, it's not something you should worry about." He started. Oh man. "After all it's not like you'd be dumb enough to want to meet the same fate as him, hm?"

"Oh n-no of course not. But, if they.. if they had a good reason?"

You were in the Fatui, and you knew how to lie. How to twist and manipulate, but Childe? He had such a weird effect on you. Even if you weren't lying you'd stutter and stumble over your own words. Usually you avoided as much as being in the presence of men for too long, sticking with the lovely cicin Mage's. They fought well, but if you got to know them in person, they were lovely most of the time.

Ah you digressed again. Childe didn't seem convinced, raising his brow at you with a blank expression, at which you looked away again, focusing on your water.

Water.

Your bottle was empty.

"..a good reason? No reason is good enough to do such a foolish mistake. What good reason could you have? What could he so convincing that you'd turn against the Fatui? Against the Lord Tsaritsa and, well, me?"

You felt the need to make sure he didn't have wrong ideas. (He figured you out)

"Don't worry– I was just teasing. I may be stupid but I'm not THAT stupid" you tried to joke to release some of the tension.

It did not work.

Awkward silence followed, one that tightened your gut. It was a game of cat and mouse by then, you knew he knew. And he was aware that you realised it, and still neither of you spoke about it straight up.

"I knew as much! You certainly couldn't betray the Fatui and have it work out. The Fatui would haunt you to the ends of the earth for treason, they would never let you rest until you'd be punished accordingly.

So you would certainly never do something so foolish, right?"

"No, no I was just teasing-"

"Just teasing, you say.. well, you certainly had me going! It would've been truly foolish to do such a thing, which is why the thought never crossed people's mind's"

Both his blood thirsty and that mocking, condescending side were true. He was like a coin. That drove you insane.

"I'm glad you were just teasing, because frankly, I didn't know how to respond! Enough of my prattle, how about another sparring match? Just to prove you seriously were never considering such treasonous thoughts?"

"I think I had enough for today, tho-"

"Nonsense. A good fatui soldier always looks for opportunity to indulge in self improvement"

Childe was too good at fighting, and you hardly ever beat him. You never even came close to beating him in the first place, because for some reason he always went so easy on you that you felt humiliated to even show your face.

He stood there out in the open, always giving you an opportunity to strike. At least his bow was charged.

"Come on, what are you waiting for?"

With a sigh you took the spear instead, to keep him at a distance. You didn't really use any elemental power for combat with Childe, you found that if you did (if you had a vision), then he'd be more likely to beat you down. In a way that was less than pleasant.

Aiming your weapon you decided to join him in the dance, for now taking the offensive stance, watching him dodge with ease, the end of your weapon scraping his shoulder.

"You're getting awfully good with that thing!"

Another dodge.

"You'd give me a real headache if you ever turned traitor and came to fight me with a real intent!"

Your blood went cold, and hot at the same time.

"But then again, I know you'd never do such a thing.."

Before you knew it, you had to start and be defensive instead, hardly managing to dodge the bow that he used to try and hit you. "Right?"

You were aware he figured you out, andd in that little stun he managed to take a hit on you this time, end of the bow hitting you in the ribs. With a wince you jumped back, it was a little weird to breathe.

The fight didn't go for long, he did tire you earlier after all, and before you knew it you were knocked off your feet, stumbling down on your back. "sshit-"

Childe simply grinned, close by then as his foot ended on your chest the moment you tried to get up. "ah-ah-ah, you lost."

It wasn't the first time. And you learned to take that loss. Maybe this time Childe didn't plan to just let you leave without giving him a reward.

"You are getting awfully unmotivated in these fights, ah it almost bores me. By suggesting such an offense, I should've killed you by now"

Once he saw you didn't try to get up again he crouched next to you, noticing the way you looked at your weapon. Before you could properly reached it he simply used his hand to shove it away. "As I said, you lost. And your punishment is up to me" he murmured, fingers grabbing your chin to force some eye contact at once.

"Come on Tartaglia, I was ju-"

"Childe"

"Childe- i just wanted to get a reaction out of you, come on" you laughed.

He wasn't convinced.

"Doesn't change the fact you've lost now, does it?"

He tapped at your jaw for a moment, staring into your eyes.

Everytime you saw that dead sea on his face, it felt like all the energy and motivation you had was lost.

Childe was such an ambitious man, and yet he felt like the most dead person you've met.

To say he was enthusiastic and void of life was both true and false at the same time, a living contradiction you needed to bear with.

Sometimes it was hard to predict which side peeked through to react. Working under him was simply like running on a path that changed directions constantly. That either had flowers or all sorts of broken glass shards, rocks.

Sticks.

Soon enough he finally let your chin go, looking at how the light shone at the center of the practice grounds. "oh, that won't do" standing up he grabbed your foot, hiss leaving you as he dragged you towards the center of the round hall. "Don't act feisty on me now, girly"

You were dragged all the way to where the light reflected from the windows, hissing as he stared down at you. Maybe you seemed compliant, but you knew how angry he could get at his plans being ruined. Maybe it was more fun to play along.

Before you could tell, Childe was sat near your legs, fingers walking up your thigh. At least Fatui uniforms were somewhat decent, modest. "let's just put you under one more trial. To really make sure if you were kidding"

"H-huh- I think I proved myse- hhA what the ffUck-" he held your thigh up, intrusive thoughts winning him over when he bit it despite the clothing on top.

Seeing you like that just made him bite, he was unsure why.

"–anyway. Now that you lost it's my turn to take my reward. Two birds with one stone, isn't that right?" His hands slid up your thighs to your hips, suddenly tugging you over to himself, even more so then before.

"Stay still for me, that will be enough of a proof"

[carnal-lnstinct]

for the valentines day event, can I request smth for vegito with 💙💌? either goku or vegeta, or both, have a crush on you, and vegito confesses after saving the day. I just want it to be really sweet and cheesy, but I'll leave the rest of the story up to you, so you can write it however you want!

Vegito | love confession

content: ( implied pining!goku and/or vegeta, referenced pining, flustered vegito, confession, established friendship ) warning: ( referenced canon-typical violence )

I can feel it when you hold me, when you touch me, it's so powerful. - "Powerful"

Of all the things that could have surprised Vegito today, a congratulatory and very tight hug from you was the most effective. The moment he dropped the energy barrier, it was like you were magnetized to him. Drawn in by a moment of grateful relief after the life-or-death situation forced upon the Earth and the fused saiyan stepping in to outclass the evil once again.

The world was suffocating under the poisonous aura invading the atmosphere and crumbling to the pressure of the villainous force that brought it. Come to burn it all down in an effort to cross paths with the alleged powerful being meant to rival their own might. With options running low, Goku's quick thinking and instant transmission teleported him to the Realm of the Kais seeking a solution from the Supreme Kai while Vegeta stayed to guard the remaining untouched haven of Dende's lookout. But it was only a matter of time before something so dense with negative energy penetrated even the divine palace. Putting everyone you knew at risk, including yourself. Goku returned in a nick of time with Potara earrings and with minimal fuss from his saiyan countertop, Vegito came to life.

Naturally, the fusion wipes the floor with the evil invader, cleansing the earth of the poisonous energy in the process and returning to the gathering of all his friends when the deed was done. Thanking him was all you could think to do after all that, embracing him as you had once embraced your two friends on separate occasions just felt appropriate. Vegito's reaction to it, however, only mimicked one of them. The sharp flush of pink across his face is highlighted by his super saiyan features and easy for you to tell which personality it was from. Not at all what you would expect from the man who bantered and danced circles around an opponent who had the entire Earth backed into a corner. Vegito's smile following the color on his face was what really captivated you, somehow proud and modest all at once. But mostly content as he made no motion to leave your hold.

He attempts to brush off his blush, smugly rubbing his gloved finger across his nose. "You can count on us to handle it." Turning to look off the lookout at the restored atmosphere, he gave a proud grunt and folded his arms against his broad chest. Doing all of this while loosely held in your arms. "That was hardly worth the trouble of us fusing, if not for that repulsive energy. Oh well." He shrugs. Then he turns back to look down at you. "You're alright too, that's all that matters."

Your eyes twinkled looking up at him, delighted by his caressive tone and affectionate words. You withdrew your arms from around him to hold your chest, attempting to still the sudden rush of your heart. "You were worried about me?" You asked with a soft smile.

Pointing it out only makes the cocky fusion suddenly fluster, blue eyes widening and face darkening another shade. "I-It's not like that at all, you've got the wrong idea! I was just uh-...uh..." A loss for words, as well? Unlike him. The attraction held for you ran deep through his fused form. The gentle tilt in your head and joyful stare waiting for an answer was hard for him to deny and he's not certain why he is so paralyzed by it. To be gazed upon like this, held in your arms and become the object of your attention, felt like something he's always wanted. The mixed feelings between his two halves of owning up to his feelings settled into an inspiring sensation that flooded through him. "'I-It was only for a little while. I knew there was nothing to worry about once we fused".

"Ha, I knew it. You were madly in love with (y/n) all along!" One of your friends teasingly called out. "It's written all over your face!"

"Tch, You don't have to shout it to the whole world, we're right here." Vegito glowered. However, his face was still glowing in his awkward huff. It was then you pulled on his tucked arms to get him to lean over and placed a tender kiss on his cheek.

"It's about time you told me." You grinned. Correction, this was the most effective surprise.

[rogerswifesblog]

Lance Tucker X reader:

Lance is readers new trainer and thinks she needs a special lesson in flexibility (18+)

I’m so weak for Lance tucker tbh

He’s an total asshole and a dick but I’d do anything and everything for him 🧎🏻‍♀️

Stretching you (out)

Pairing: Lance Tucker x Reader

Warnings: lance tucker (he’s a fucking warning ⚠️😩), slightly forced stretching (trust me, it’s gonna be good👀), fingering, oral [ m&f receiving -> 69], p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating, overstimulation, pain kink(but not a lot), dirty talk, let me know if I missed smth

Let’s thank @jamneuromain for the split part👀

Moodboard for this one shot here

18 +

Walking into the gym, you looked around. There were no people around anymore, since you had booked a session with a personal trainer- Lance Tucker himself- and wanted to work on yourself a bit. It’s not that you weren’t happy with yourself- you just wanted to try it out. Maybe going to the gym would become your hobby? Maybe you’d like to come here?

Ha, you’d definitely like to come but you didn’t know that yet.

You felt your blood rush to your cheeks, making you blush, feeling his gaze on you. It felt like he was trying to stare into your soul… or making out the outline of your nipples under your shirt and sports bra.

You felt your blood rush to your cheeks, making you blush, feeling his gaze on you. It felt like he was trying to stare into your soul… or making out the outline of your nipples under your shirt and sports bra.

You felt your blood rush to your cheeks, making you blush, feeling his gaze on you. It felt like he was trying to stare into your soul… or making out the outline of your nipples under your shirt and sports bra.

Lance laid out a mat on the floor while you put your beg aside and followed him, not being able to stop looking at his ass- fuck, he had such a- “I can feel you staring” said the man without needing to turn around. Once again you felt your blush deepen.

Quickly you looked away- even though your gaze fell on him again when he took off his jacket, throwing it aside. His shoulders stretched out the material of his white t-shirt and you could actually see his nipples perk up, feeling the chilly air hit his arms.

Fuck, his arms.

You couldn’t stop looking at his biceps while he put up some equipment. He could tell you were still looking at him. Good.

“Haven’t I told you to stretch?” he said, folding his arms, knowing it would drive you crazy… and surprise, surprise, you looked down at his pecs, swallowing once, twice.

You slowly nodded, putting your leg forward and leaning forward, touching your toes. The last time you stretched was probably in highschool- you didn’t remember any of the exercises besides this one.

Watching you, Lance chuckled, stepping closer, and stopping purposely right in front of you, with his crotch close to your face. Automatically you lifted your head up, staring for a moment at the curve in his pants but quickly averting your gaze away from his, well, dick.

Your cheeks were burning, while he seemed pretty smug, looking at you exuding power and sex appeal, enough to make your knees wobble.

He showed you a few other exercises to stretch your legs and arms… and watching him stretch his arms made you want to be choked with that biceps.

But what nearly brought you to your knees was the split he did. A fucking split.

At this point you knew you were drenched.

“I can’t do that” you said immediately when he looked up at you, waiting for you to do the same. He chuckled quietly- and even his damn chuckling made your pussy throb- standing back up and stopping right in front of you.

He jerked his head to the floor, signalizing you to get down -you weren’t sure if he meant the split or on your knees but you’d be happier about the second. “I’ll help you, sweetheart, promise. I’ll hold you” he mumbled into your ear before putting his hands on your waist and stepping behind you.

With his other hand he tapped your thigh, indicating you to push your leg forward. “Lance, I-“ he didn’t let you complain, pushing it forward himself while his leg stopped your other leg from moving.

While you slowly slid down you felt a tug in your legs, making you whine quietly- and yet Lance pushed you harder. “Fuck, Lance-“ you gasped which sounded more like a moan.

You felt Lance grin against your neck, while he pressed himself a bit closer against you. “You’re doing great, sweetheart. Maybe I’ll give you a gold medal to hold, huh? Yeah, I’ll give you the gold..” he mumbled, already feeling his dick twitch in his sweatpants.

His hands slid to the inside of your thighs, slowly coming closer to your core. “I think I need a better hold on you”.his words made you shudder while he pressed you a bit lower- your legs trembled but you couldn’t tell if it was from the exercise or of how close his hand was to your throbbing pussy.

At first you thought you imagined his hand being this close to your pussy but you gasped quietly feeling it even closer. His hand cupped your core, rubbing his fingers over your hot cunt and you clenched around nothing.

“I can feel you throbbing, sweetheart… such a hungry pussy for a good cock… maybe that’s what you need, huh? Could you make a split for me, if I’d let you sit on my cock?” he mumbled into your hair before pushing his fingers against your hole through your leggings. A quiet, surprised moan escaped your lips.

Before you could answer or really savor the feeling, his hand disappeared and he pulled you up on your feet.

He smirked at you for a moment before grabbing your arm and pulling you with him on the mat.

“Now lay down on your stomach“ the authority and dominance in his voice made your knees wobble. You did as he told, laying down on your stomach.

Shortly after, Lance stepped over you with you between his legs. He kneeled over you and you could feel his cock against your lower back, while his hands slid over your thighs, pushing them apart.

Then he leaned forward, grabbing your ankle and pulling it up. You felt the stretch in your thigh but you didn’t mind the pain. If you had to be honest the sting felt pretty nice. You could even say it relaxed you. And turned you on.

He played your body like an instrument. Like he knew exactly how you felt- that you liked everything he did.

Lance looked at your ass in these tight leggings, trying to make out the outline of your slip. But he looked, and he looked…he even learned a bit down but…

“That can’t be right…” he mumbled more to himself than you while his free hand slipped into your leggings, only to feel what he had already expected. “So no panties, huh?” His fingers drove right into your cunt, stretching you with two of his long and thick digits, just leaving them in you, feeling how you squeezed him.

Fuck, he wanted to feel you squeeze around his cock.

But he had other plans before.

You moaned when he curled his fingers and rubbed over the sensitive spot in you, that you always had problems to reach yourself. “Fuck” you moaned, especially when Lance still pulled at your leg.

He started thrusting his fingers deep into your cunt, in and out, in and out… you didn’t know if you were shaking from the feeling of his fingers fucking into you or from the sting in your thigh.

Lance could feel how much you clenched around his digits the more he pulled on your leg, letting you feel even more pain.

Before you could even really think about what was happening, you felt a g-spot orgasm rush over you. “Lance!” you gasped, balling your hands into fists, trying to grab something- the mat- anything. Fuck. Around two of his fingers, nestled thick and deep inside your warmth, you felt your body twitch and pussy clench.

He chuckled confidently, thrusting his fingers once again back into your cunt and rubbing on your spot, not giving you a moment to breathe. You tried to squirm away but he didn’t let you, sitting on you and caging you with his weight. “What are you doing sweetheart? I haven’t stretched your other leg yet?”

You whined, shaking your head when he pressed even harder on your spot. “No- it’s- it's too much- Lance” you whispered, but he didn’t let you move away. “You can take it.” With that he lowered your leg and already grabbed the other one, pulling it back. As soon as he started feeling the slight resistance, he also felt your cunt clench even harder. “Yeah, that’s it baby. Letting me stretch you out so well.”

You really didn’t know if he meant your legs.

As soon as you felt a third finger pressing into your wet heat, you knew the answer to that.

“Fuck- Lance- I can’t-“ you whined not sounding like you meant it, moaning as soon as he started thrusting.

All three thick digits.

You felt hot and sweaty, not sure if it was from all the stretching before or from… the stretching now.

Lance grinded his dick against the curve of your ass. Hard and heavy.

You whined, not being able to say anything or make any other sound than pathetically whining and moaning into the mat. “Mhmm… come on baby, give me another one. I know you can do it” he mumbled, pulling your leg harder once again.

The pain in your leg added to the pleasure he was giving you with his fingers and in the next second you felt your orgasm being ripped from you, your thighs tensing while you sobbed into the mat.

Lance gave you a gentle kiss on your ankle before lowering your leg and pulling his fingers out of your abused cunt.

You felt so empty without his fingers filling you up. You couldn’t stop the quiet whine that escaped your open mouth.

Before you even opened your eyes, Lance had turned you around so you laid on your back, lifting your head. You wanted to ask what he was doing only to look at his back when he then turned the two of you around, making you sit over his chest.

He pushed you down to his crotch, pressing you closer to his hard cock, already peaking over the waistband of his sweatpants. So he didn’t wear any underwear either. “Come on, let’s stretch that pretty throat of yours…” Lance pressed your face into his crotch, letting you know what to do.

You suckled on his head, pulling his pants down and looking down at his thick dick. You stopped for a moment. Just looking and wanting.

His mushroom head was red and leaking pre-cum while his girth was covered in heavy veins that you just wanted to trace with your tongue.

And that’s exactly what you did.

Licking around him, flattening your tongue against his slit, making Lance moan quietly. He grabbed your leggings with both hands, ripping them along the seam, burying his face between your glistening folds.

You gasped, not only because of the cold air hitting your core but also because of his tongue attacking your sensitive clit, sucking on it. “Fuck, please Lance-“

He pushed three of his fingers into your heat, already imagining how you’d feel around his dick, squeezing and milking him.

Moaning against his tip, he used the moment to push his hips forward, sliding past your gag reflex right into your throat. You gagged but started bobbing your head till you were able to take his full length into your throat.

Getting his dick into your mouth made your jaw twinge slightly but you enjoyed the feeling of his thickness. The fact that he was so big it nearly was painful to let him slide into your throat, made your clench around his digits. “Yeah, that’s what you like, huh? A big cock filling your holes…” he mumbled, fucking into your mouth.

Within minutes he pulled two orgasm out of you, even though you felt like you could burn from all the pleasure he gave you.

It was so much.

So, so much…

Too much.

And yet you wanted more.

Lance moaned into your core, grabbing your thigh strongly enough to leave bruises but it didn’t matter. You liked the pain.

When he felt himself coming closer to the edge, he pulled you off of his dick and manhandled you on the mat, laying over you.

He pressed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, guiding his tongue into your mouth, easily winning the fight for dominance. You could taste yourself on his lips, making you moan into his mouth. And he kissed so, so good.

His dick pushed against your folds but not sinking into you. Just as you wanted to grab him and guide him into you he grabbed both of your hands and pulled them over your head. “Leave ‘em there” he growled into your ear before sitting up, looking down at you and quickly taking off his shirt.

There was a very confident smirk on his lips.

Your gaze slid over his muscular body, stopping at the medal tattoo above his dick.

Gold medal.

You had no idea where to look at- his god-like body, the tattoo or his leaking cock that you wanted to feel so badly in your cunt.

“We’re still not done with your legs, baby” Lance's voice made you look up at his face watching his satisfied smirk while you just seemed confused.

Especially when he grabbed your leg and started pressing it to your chest. “Lance what-“ “I told you I’d stretch your legs, sweetheart.” With that he leaned over you- and you felt his tip sliding along your folds, still not thrusting into you.

When his tip brushed over your clit, a moan escaped your lips while he pushed against your legs before sitting back on his knees- and repeating everything over and over again.

You could feel your own juices and his pre-cum coating your folds, even leaking out of you and on the mat. You’ve never been so turned on because of something- or someone.

You felt drunk on him, even though he still hasn’t fucked you yet. “Please Lance- you’ve already stretched both of my legs- please, please-“ you whined with both of your legs pressed to your chest while his dick rubbed along your pussy lips- he was so close to push into you.

“Please what, baby?” he grinned against your lips, letting his tip sink a bit into your core before pulling away. “Tell me what you want.” Of course he knew exactly what you wanted but he enjoyed your squirming and begging. If he would’ve been so bothered himself, he’d probably tease you for another hour.

“Fuck me, Lance- fuck me hard. I want to feel it for da-“ before you could finish your sentence, he starts plowing into you, fucking you so hard your eyes roll back, feeling like he could literally break you any moment.

One of his hands glides between your body’s, rubbing over your swollen, sensitive clit, ripping the next orgasm right out of you before you could even realize how close you were.

And he doesn’t stop.

Lance pounds roughly into your overstimulated cunt like you were just a toy to him. Just a hole to fill,- to fuck.

And that’s what you were at this moment.

And you loved every second of it.

When he finally spills into your cunt with a loud growl, filling you up, you can’t even tell how many orgasms you’ve reached- or even if you had stopped orgasming after he had started hitting right into your g-spot. Your whole body was shaking, trembling in his arms while he slowly put down your legs- never pulling out of your cunt.

He slowly laid down over your body, moving his hips lazily, enjoying how your pussy milked his cock all this time. “Lance- I- I can’t” you whined, feeling the pain from overstimulation rush over your body. “Yeah, I know, I know” he gave you a peck on the lips, slowly pulling out of you with a wet squelch.

You felt your cheeks redden when he looked down at your puffy cunt, filled and leaking with your mixed juices. He scooped some of it up with his fingers, before pushing back into you. You whined quietly when you felt him thrust his fingers for a moment before pulling back out.

It was weird to not have him in you. You felt so empty without his thick cock.

“Open up, baby” with your eyes closed you felt his fingers press against your lips. Obediently you opened your mouth, letting him feed you your mixed releases.

Your whole body twitched when you felt his tongue lick over your drenched folds, before he slowly came up to you, pulling his fingers out of your mouth and kissing you hotly. Making the both of you moan against each others lips.

The kiss turned gentler and he slowly pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.

“We should do this again…” he grinned against your lips.

You nodded. Yeah, definitely. But you couldn’t find your voice to answer verbally.

“Are you free tomorrow? Seven? I pick you up and we can get some dinner…go back to my place after…”

Well….who needs a cold shower?

Thank you for reading!!

Please leave feedback and reblog❤️

[streamdotpng]

I'm so sorry stream, I KNOW you said this AU is fluff dedicated but I can't just STOP THINKING about Wednesday and Baby Belle leaving Enid (suuuuper reluctantly)

You ended your drabble with "breaks" in italics and it just obliterated me because, what happens then ?

Is she catatonic ? Does she lose it ? Rage ? Tears ? Desperation ? And the way she (doesn't) cope with the fact that the two most important people in her life went away without a word ?

But there's also Wednesday, with a wailing Baby Belle, not crying but misty eyed saying again and again how it is for Enid's good, and who is she kidding, it was going too well. Something was bound to break.

But how do they meet again ? (They have to, it cannot end like that) Is Enid going to forgive her ? How will they mend what broke.

Stream it's not FAIR WHAT YOU DO TO MY BRAIN

Since I'm despairing over my shadowban, I'm opening my Spotify sad Playlist and turning it on so I get into the mood and answer this

Let's get it

Also yall, don't despair over enjoying my angst. Makes me really proud I could elicit a response like that. Not unless yall force the angst down my throat but that's bc I'm kinda a Lil bit of a hypocrite and bc this my blog and my interests so..

Anyways back to Enid, I meant it when she breaks.

She's a college student, she doesn't have alot of time to spend with others. Her family relationship is strained, her relationships with friends is strained bc she had to deal with a baby and potentially fighting for her life constantly so the one grounding thing in her life was baby belle.

And that's gone.

So like, Enid is a Lil hysterical.

At first she was 'shit, shit man did someone kidnap them?'

She barges into yoko's room, a huge mess. Her breath is heavy, she's sweating and her body is shivering like it wants to crumble into the floor and break apart but her family could be kidnapped and she needs to be strong right now.

It isn't until Yoko grabs Enid by the arms and mentions that Wednesday is demon royalty. There is no way she could be kidnapped without a fight. She's strong as hell, Enid! Yoko reminds and she looks worried. Take me to your room.

And Enid does, her body feels too real as she stumbles down halls and corners. It's like she's playing a first person game in her own mind. It took a bit before Enid can even open the door because her hand was shaking so in a fit of frustration at not even being able to do such a simple action- Enid kicks down the door.

A part of her hoped that she was dreaming as the two barges in. That the emptiness of her room was a mean prank. Wednesday was a little socially inept like that, didn't really understood humor like she did after all. Enid wanted that to be true but life doesn't love her and the room is as dead as it always been since she woke up.

She turns to yoko and she looks halfway like her whole reality is shattering. Her shoulders were tight and her chest was heaving as she spoke. "please- yoko, you have to know something-" it spills from her lips repeatedly as her hand tightened on the doorframe. The steel creaks and theres nails digging into it like a pencil to paper.

Yoko trusts her friend, she really does but she shrinks a little as hazed blue eyes become clouded with bits of purple.

"Enid.." she starts, careful as if trying to talk down someone about to do something they could regret. "your room is too clean-"

"I know that!" Enid shouts and the metal she holds breaks crumbles into smth thin, snapping in half as she pushes herself closer to the vampire. "I know that Yoko, tell me something that isn't the obvious!"

Yoko continues like Enid didn't just destroy a bar meant to be outcast proof. "-and all of baby belle's things are gone." a breath was taken and her next words are treaded carefully, as if she was about to step into land with mines. "I don't think this is just a kidnapping."

The silence was deafening and immedietely, Enid's posture dropped into nothing. She just stood there and Yoko watched with morbid fascination as once sky blue eyes shifted purple and her iris shrinks into tiny dots.

"I'm going to Weems," Enid grits out. There is no familiarity in her tone but simple cold fact. The principle was a normal shapeshifter but to the religious community, she was known for her contact with the Queen of hell, known for contacting Envy.

For contacting Morticia.

When the two friends reach her door, Weems was sitting there. She looked like she expected it, her hands crossed in her table as she takes in the ruffled sight of a nearly feral werewolf and the growing terrified vampire.

"it wasn't a mistake, Enid," Weems goes and theres a familiarity in her tone. Like she too, understands and that irritates Enid more than ever. Who is she, to try and relate? "Wednesday transferred out of Nevermore University last Friday."

Enid didn't take too kindly too that, didn't quite like the tone it was said and slams her hands onto the wood.

"well take her back then," she growls. If only it was ever that simple.

Weems stares back. "she's gone, Enid."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Weems interrupts, raising a hand. "us mortals can never be with demons, you need to accept-"

She couldn't even finish her sentence before her whole table was thrown out the windows behind her.

The crash is silencing as it breaks through stained glass. The tiny art shattering into nothing and there is now a new exit to Weems' room.

The chill of the open air is sobering and Weems understood the severity of the situation immedietely. Yoko stands there, having stepped back the moment Enid spoke and her mouth is agape. Stained glass is extremely sturdy, being glass that needed to be layered to make a piece and to see it break so easily-

Its scary and her eyes stare at the back of her best friend.

"Its going to take time," Weems starts again.

Enid tilts her head. "I have all the time in the world."

"I will need some materials if you want to visit the underworld."

"Say it and it's yours."

Its said like a fact and it makes Yoko's fingers twitch. Shit, Enid is serious.

Weems next words is a little hesitant as her eyes shift. "Enid, what if this wasn't a mistake?"

Theres a pause and something fills the air immedietely. It makes Yoko's breath hitch as if something sunk their hands into her lungs and grasped it tight.

Enid's words are slow, her voice a gutteral growl. "I'll burn the world when we reach that."

No one mentioned how the words didn't go that way

[genericpuff]

To me the problem with lore olympus and rachel is that she keeps the fan feedback too close to her chest, yes it does "affect her because she's very sensitive" which is smth rachel has said before in interviews and stuff, but the problem is that if u let fan opinions get in the way of ur work maybe u should set boundaries with the way u interact with fan content OF UR OWN WORK.

Im not sure if im explaining myself correctly, but the way rachel somehow always tries to prove criticism wrong and has slowly started ignoring the foundations she previously set is making everything just so flat and boring. She doesnt work with what we've already read but trying to somehow "fix" things that are sometimes not clear on the get go.

For example, u (and a lot of people) complained about how demeter explicitly said she always put persephone in white (when persephone has willingly been wearing that color through the entire series). Meanwhile, i remember having read a post from loreolympians on instagram (iirc) analyzing perse's change of color scheme during s2.

The problem with these things is that rachel has most likely been engaging with these fans who take for granted that she plans everything out or that everything has a deep meaning (which to a sense you should do, because having faith in the author is usually how to go about analyzing storytelling), and somehow it's become a strange echochamber and it results in these weird, very blatantly written to be noticed, details or moments htat try to be smart but are just flat bc rachel doesnt give any effort to anything else aand prefers telling rather than showing so she can feel like a good author when fans obviously point these out

Jdhdjd these are just my two cents and sorry for the long rant but yeah basically rachel should separate herself from the fandom and try to write more objectively and focusing on the narrative instead of taking every little criticism of her comic so personally

Honestly, I can get being a little squeamish around criticism, shit I've had analysis stuff on my work that's consisted of praise and it's still sometimes a little overwhelming to read (I've got a big one in my asks right now that took me like 10 minutes to get thru because I had to keep taking breathers and I still need to actually share it LMAO it's not even criticism! it's just got so much in it, ahfdsaklg)

When it comes to criticism, I still get a little "aw man" sometimes. I recently got feedback from Pyrrhic & Victoria on my Reaper redraws and even though I'm pals with them and know they aren't gonna be harsh, it's still an incredibly vulnerable position to put oneself in. Especially when it's projects that you hold very close to your sense of self.

RS has definitely taken it a little too far in tying LO to herself as a person. Criticism of the comic = criticism of her , and her fanbase seems to view this the same way, that if someone doesn't like the comic, that has to automatically say something about them as consumers when... it really doesn't. If anything their reactions to criticism say way more about them as people than the criticism existing lmao

What's more upsetting and simultaneously eye-rolling is the fact that Rachel goes out of her way to look for things to be upset about. On multiple occasions now over the past 4-5 years, she's snuck into groups containing criticism, attempted to strongarm power away from moderators so she could have criticism removed, and basically just ruined her own day over other people's opinions whether or not they were meant to be read by her.

It's why I stand by the fact that people shouldn't be directly messaging RS with criticism or hate because that would just be unsolicited cruelty. While she should be more open to criticism, that doesn't mean she needs to open the floodgates on her DM's because there are plenty of places for criticism to exist outside of her peripheral. But she keeps turning her head to look at it. Like, she'll throw a hissy fit over criticism that wasn't even really directly aimed at her, just meant for the sake of discussion. And that's where I'd really honestly wish she could just get a grip.

Like, I'm sure there's criticism of Rekindled out there already. Shit, I've had other projects from yeeears ago that ended up being made fun of outside of where I posted it. It sucked, but going out and actively looking for it for the purpose of erasing it from existence wasn't going to make me a better creator nor was it going to benefit me as a person.

It's a shitty reality, but the bigger you grow as a creator, the more you will have to separate yourself from your audience. You don't have to stonewall them completely, many people follow these works for the creators themselves, but you're not entitled to everyone's friendship and praise, and if the criticism really bugs you that much, then fucking work on the thing they're criticizing, don't double down on it or try to control how your audience consumes your content.

It's why it drives me so nuts when RS does infiltrate these groups because it's an incredible invasion of privacy as well as the creator-reader relationship. Q&A's, panels, and personal socials are where you go to interact with the creator. A creator sneaking into a Discord group or subreddit or FB group with the intent of "listening in" would be equivalent to J.K. Rowling showing up in person to a book club meeting. It's just disrespectful to your audience and makes you look like a huge asshole. Have some grace and for once, I'll tell Rachel and her fanbase to take their own advice - if you don't like it, don't read it.

[fauxridium]

What is exactly is the deal with pretty-boy-thamaturge? I know you reblogged a post about them and even though I'm not into that fandom that is, I checked to block anyway and they have you on a post that says ask to follow if you support him. They also made a post about a transmed stalking them, but I don't for sure know if they're referring to you, but I've been following you since you drew Zelda stuff and well, you definitely do not seem like one. Mainly I'm just concerned about their deal wit

The basic low down is that they're a self admitted conservative, pro cop, and are transphobic (even if they id as trans now, they still back up and support transphobic ideologies) so like. In general just not a good person with their world views lmao

I am Definitely not a transmed, if they were talking about me i have no idea where they would even get that from, i literally have transmed under my dni criteria in my carrd so. Lol, im also a very high fem non op trans man myself so me being transmed literally makes 0 sense fjskv

But to summerize my Personal issues with this person as best and as short as possible. I have osdd with a system member that kins faux and is not comfortable with doubles (they can cause very bad episodes of unreality that can become potentially dangerous for the body), they have did with a system member that kins faux and is not comfortable with doubles (for similar reasons as far as im aware), they joined a brc server im in (a public fandom server, not meant for kinnie stuff, mind you), and put in their intro like. Literally me no doubles or smth along those lines and listed faux, so I, in good faith, messaged them to let them know that i also kin faux and am not comfortable with doubles and would like to work something out so we could both be in the server and still be comfortable, they didnt take it well, ended up leaving the server (or being removed, still not sure what happened there because they were causing issues in the server Anyways), and then they proceeded to just be? Very weird fjeg, they had me blocked certain places, but didnt have me blocked on others, and would still try to interact with me as if we were chill. For some reason even tho i apparently trigger them (which. Idk if someone triggered me by just simply existing i wouldnt try talking to them DJDG), i ended up blocking them on everything once i was told about the kind of transphobic shit they were retweeting and them being a cop boot licker, and honestly. If anyone was doing any stalking it was them, because atp i simply forgot about it and redid my carrd to what it is now, and literally within a handful of hours of me doing it, like within the same night, i was told and shown that they redid their entire carrd to look basically exactly the same as mine, and even stole the icon i edited myself specifically for My carrd, the one im using as my icon rn, but they used the same bg and shit and while like. Everything else there could be plausible deniability on why it was the same. The fact that they took the icon i made myself just made it obvious they took everything from my carrd, they have since changed it a bit to look at least. A bit different, but are still using my icon lmao, so again, if anyone was the stalker in this situation it was def them because how would they see i changed my carrd That quickly after i had already blocked them and then. Choose to basically copy it if they werent checking my shit like. Is that not stalkerish behaviour DJSKG

Theres some other shit with them pretending to be a 3rd party to defend themselves in my bfs inbox but they ended up forgetting to hit anon on a follow up message they sent which basically just. Outed them for lying about being a third party who "doesnt know them very well but had to get on a call with them to calm them down" which like. Lol okay, mostly that's just cringe but also goes to show that they're not a trust worthy person who lies to try to defend themselves lmao

My main issues with them anyways isnt really with the personal shit, i dont like them for it sure, but i think the fact that they're trying to hide being conservative on tumblr while making it obvious on twitter by once again, interacting and retweeting from notoriously bigoted people and accounts is honestly deplorable, especially in a fandom that has a lot of trans people in it who def Would Not interact or associate with them if they knew the type of shit they were rting and posting on twitter. Hell they even admitted to being conservative themself in the replies of one of my posts, like. Idk PERSONALLY i just dont think we should allow for bigots in fandom spaces that are, again, full of many trans people. Also being pro cop but being into a game that is Very Anti Cop. Like how did you miss the point that bad lmfao

BASICALLY TLDR they are not a good or trust worthy person and anyone who is trans or anti cop or really have any morals at all should stay far far away from them lmao

EDIT: WAS JUST INFORMED THEY COPIED MY N$F￦ TWITTER HANDLE TOO. @ THIS PERSON IF YOU SEE THIS POST LEAVE ME ALONE FOR GODS SAKE FJSKGSGD

[nibwhipdragon]

Shin for the blorbo ask game :)

Heuhueeuueueueu thank you for answering my wishes Kirsten. I can talk about this Normal man for Ages. You're so real and awesome and true for this. Love you <3

The reasoning for some of the stuff I've put down on here is so intricate I have to explain it (especially since you have not played yttd. Or played ytts yet as far as I'm aware). Actually thinking about it I'll probably vaguely explain the rest because of that. I'm sure you'll enjoy it. Rant under the cut :3

FUCK THE WAR BAR I FORGOT. IMAGINE THAT IS AT MAX WITH A BRACKET SAYING "DEPENDENT" NEXT TO IT OK

Food is very low because Shin canonically can't eat much food. Most food destroys his stomach so he doesn't really care for feeding himself too much (even though he really wants to put on weight, seeing he is severely underweight at 49kg. I think normal weight is like 53kg or smth like that. God). Though he DOES seem to really like the food he can eat (only soup, really) , so that's another reason as to why I gave food a one on the bar. If he could actually digest food properly he'd definitely be a food person.

He's very disabled (chronically ill ver.) coded, and he's very weak and usually exhausted/can be exhausted easily. So his sleep is at max because he very likely sleeps a lot due to it

Sex is none due to the above reasons. Sorry. He would go into cardiac arrest if he were to have sex and that isn't even a joke. Most sexless man ever

Pals is a middle on the bar. Because he has no friends, BUT. When he cares for someone he ends up caring for them a Lot. As well as that he does care for Midori a lot, actually being upset over his "death" iirc. However I have very much deducted points off from that one, simply due to Midori's abuse towards Shin. Midori used Shin's personality to trap him within their abusive relationship easier, so I'm not fully counting it as some of that is definitely the abuse speaking (iirc he also said part of him was somewhat relieved to hear the news).

Love is also high, because when he cares for someone he cares for them a Lot. Kanna, for example. Ended up getting accidentally attached to her and it caused him to abandon his plans to escape the death game alive because if it did that it'd kill her. I can speak a lot about their relationship (I find it so upsetting he never learns that Kanna was his little sister he always wished he had the ability to see. The fuck man) but you know like nothing about her so I won't here. It's only just come to my attention the template probably meant love as in romantic love seeing there was a pal section. But I don't care.

Due to his relationship he develops with Kanna (and how he's so desperate to save her) the war bar is entirely dependent on which route you take, Logic (kill Kanna, Shin lives), or Emotion (kill Shin, Kanna lives). In Emotion Kanna lives and Shin is happy because that's what he wants, not caring that he's going to now die because of it. In Logic though. Shin was paranoid of everyone betraying him the entire death game. And in Logic, once he breaks down his walls and becomes vulnerable, just to try save Kanna, they end up killing her because it's the logical thing to do. Betraying him like he was fearing. And ofc he gets mad, not just because of the betrayal but also everyone voted to have a 13 year old die, What the Fuck. And he becomes hellbent on killing literally everyone there as revenge. Hell, not soon after the main game, he ends up making the Joe AI "evil" to traumatise Sara even more, to the point she forgot Joe completely to cope with it all. He's very much got war as a priority in Logic route.

Crying is very low because that man suppresses so SO much ("Sadness...? I don't think I can make that feeling anymore." And him later on being distressed and upset over Midori being Midori. Wow, someone is a chronic liar!)

Shin is canonically great at things like coding and hacking so I don't think it's out of place for him to be good at videogames. It's also why he has cracked account and such ticked off. Bad Internet is ticked simply because it feels in character.

His kill count. I know he killed Joe. Not with his own hands but he set up the events that caused Joe to die with the intention of getting him killed so I'm counting it. For the life of me I put 2 down and I can't think of the second one. Hmmm. Well. He does kill himself in many meanings of the phrase. So maybe that's it. And ofc the so far is there bc yttd is not complete yet and it is subject to change.

I wasn't too sure what was meant by "moon" or "sunshine" so. I was stumped. UNTIL I remembered the official translation notes.

His surname is moon related. And Sou Hiyori's surname is sun related. How good for me! He's mostly on the moon side (because this is Shin here) but not fully there due to the whole personality and identity stuff that occurs.

He is a fruit because he's certainly not meaty. All I have to say on the subject tbh

Just giving a heads up as I can't add another cut. But one of the images I'm gonna use very soon has some blood in it. It's not too graphic but I wanna make sure I don't jump you with anything you don't want to see <3

Ticked him off as dead, not just because he dies in one route, but he (technically) dies in them all. I refer back to the Logic and Emotion routes. Look at this CG for the Emotion route.

He is wounded fatally because this is the route he dies in ofc. But I bring to notice that he has no scarf in this CG. Now look at the Logic route version of this CG.

Very upset and mad here as you can see. But he also has the scarf. Idk if you caught on to it (only bc you haven't played the game, this is blatant in game) but that's actually Midori's scarf originally! Shin started wearing Midori's scarf after he died, which is why he has it (this is just to clear up questions you may have). Yknow. Midori, the original Sou Hiyori, the evil and abusive and manipulative man, the man whose personality and identity Shin took on to protect himself in the death game. The Emotion CG lacking the scarf shows that he has finally let his walls down, is Shin Tsukimi, his real self, and he dies that way. The Logic CG having the scarf shows that though he may still be alive, the personality, the REAL Shin Tsukimi is dead and long gone. He's been betrayed and horrifically traumatised and so that "weak" personality has been completely discarded in favour of a "stronger" one, Midori's. There's also Shin AI, of which there was technically 2. One on level 2 of the death game building, not a proper AI due to only being there to give info on his character (the 2nd trial was about trust hence why this was a thing). Shin smashes that Shin AI's monitor on secret before anyone has the chance to discover it to conceal his identity. A form of Shin Tsukimi dies. Then there is the other Shin AI – this one is the one people are very most likely referring to when talking about Shin AI. He's a full-on AI of Shin unlike the other one, with his memories and his personality pre death game, kept on a computer in the level 3 computer room for Midori to play around with (Shin can't escape him no matter what...). In both routes, he's the only remaining version of Shin in existence. And though he's scared and reluctant to help the gang at first due to Midori, eventually he does help! And of course once Midori finds out. Punishment. Said punishment was deleting the Shin AI. Slowly. So he could feel the pain of being deleted and the fear of death (he begs Midori to stop and reverse the deletion saying he'd be good and listen to him after and was saying he was so sorry it actually upset me so bad). And so Shin AI, the last version of Shin remaining, dies. And then there is no more Shin. He is ridiculously doomed by the narrative. Ough...can you tell I'm normal over him.

And of course. He's haunted. By Midori especially. Haunted so much by him that he takes on his identity and personality as a form of defense. So haunted that after his death Shin decided to search for him (iirc), "just in case", despite their relationship being so abusive (yeah ik abuse victims are like that for very good reasons. Abuse does Things to you. My point still stands). He even has a manifestation his trauma have Midori's personality iirc (Shadsou) to help make sure he keeps himself on this track of being Midori in case he slips up. Haunted in so many ways...

[daylightaftertherain]

finished s&b season 2, random thoughts below (spoilers obviously)

THE CROWS but esp wylan bc he's my son and I love him

not the biggest fan of how they ended up combining the two series together, the crows definitely deserve much more than this, and also I kind of hate how they're just pulling things out of both six of crows and crooked kingdom randomly with no regard for how the scenes reflected the characters' arcs

kaz and jordie though? TRAUMATIZING

idk why they included jesper's mom in there either, it was fun seeing him using his powers but the books do SO much better at realistically handling him overcoming his feelings of guilt and fear over an extended period of time with support from people he loves, rather than him suddenly gaining clarity because of a poison trip hallucination

also the last ep handled everything weirdly imo, like inej already hunting down slavers when that makes no sense for what her arc was in the books, and right after the "how will you have me" scene too (still iconic though)

wesper should've gotten their slowburn, but I will still happily replay their scenes until I feel something because I'm still a sucker for wesper being couply even if their relationship was super rushed

thank god for kit and jack doing the "just girls" scene during promo because the show's effectively eliminated any chance of that <3

ICE COURT ICE COURT ICE COURT ICE COURT >:D

JURDA PAREM

really really hope they handle wylan and van eck properly if we get a third season

overall I just think the writers either didn't fully understand the crows' personalities and stories and picked whatever was most popular within the book's fandom, which, yeah, you have to do some fan service, but this has zero regard for what people who've read the books actually wanted, and while I did enjoy watching, I really would've preferred their stories getting handled with care (even if it meant less screentime)

also can we stop with the whole pulling shit out of our asses that have nothing to do with adapting the books faithfully and don't even contribute to the plot of the show thank you

enough about the crows ahjsgjkhfdhf let's move on to shadow and bone

still despise alina with either mal or the darkling, I'm sorry but they both do not deserve her and she had better chemistry with nikolai in five minutes than those two ever did

tolya and tamar were some of my favorites unsurprisingly, they're iconic and I would do anything for them (and tamar getting her sapphic love story oh my god)

I also loved alina's interactions with the crew and basically anyone who wasn't mal or the darkling, she's thriving this season and I'm glad she's becoming her own person

nikolai was so well portrayed, really hope he gets his king of scars arc and we get to see more of him, but I think they should've kept in the bit where he was basically a volcra for a while (probabaly got cut because of budget or smth but it added so much to his character)

why would they kill off david (I'm half-holding onto the show/movie logic of not seeing the body yet but STILL) it's way too early in the overall plot of the book series, and I can't enjoy the show when they pull things from different points in the timeline without any reasoning behind it, it's just lazy and stupid. also genya did not deserve this much suffering in one season istfg

I skipped most of the darkling's scenes because that man pisses me off so much, but ben barnes did a good job at adding depth to him after baghra's death

speaking of baghra she's an a+ character, no notes

that's it I guess? def forgot some thoughts that I might add later, but yeah this season was fun and I had a good time, there's just some huge issues with how they adapted the books to the show, and their handling of all of the characters

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

idk if anyone knows this about big boobs, but listen, not supporting them hurts [and can damage your spine], so if I am not binding, you bet I am wearing a bra. Do you know what bras do? They support your boobs and make them look bigger, busty even, even sports bras... and most bras are designed and sold with women in mind... But the problem is you have a day by day choice between gender and keeping your body from being injured. Tits out and unsupported isn't a good option for a large number of big tittied trans men/mascs.

And a lot of the bras we own are even left over from when we were presenting as women, and no, we aren't going to go spend a fortune on new bras that will be equally hard to fit and probably end up being equally girly because those are the damn options.

Sure I can stack 2-3 sports bras but I still clearly have breasts and idk if you know this but stacking sports bras can do the same medically significant damage as bad chest binding. You need to be able to breathe.

Until comfortable safe chest binding [bras meant to make you look masculine shaped or to minimize breast tissue] become mainstream for any gender to do for any reason [think sports bra++++]... Our only options are going to be going to exhausting and expensive extremes just to get a chest binder that we can't wear more than a certain % of the time safely.... or wear the big tiddy bra.

And for the record I think various levels of safe chest binding garments should be standard fare at bra stores, and there should also be sections and sizes geared at big titty cis men, btw. There should be a man gender bra store is what I am saying that floats as a business by also selling you the most ultimate reshaping supportive sports bras [the kind of shit you could wear all day safely but holds that shit in place in a way that isn't meant to try to keep you looking boobily] regardless of gender, is what I am saying.

Hell I think there should be a straight up 'trans store' that also sells shit to care for all sorts of body mods and sells stuff like animal ears and tails [the cyborg electronic ones], just like a whole slew of whatever people do to reshape their bodies or make themselves more comfortable. It could have some futuristic trasnhumanism vibes, have an adult section in the back like Spencer's does, and just basically make trans support products and garments, as well as like fat support products and garments, maybe even maternity shit, something mainstream and popular that anyone can access anywhere at any time. You want to normalize this shit? let cis men buy packers. Let cis women have a special store with options for "cutlets", a place where you could go in person and TRY ON prosthetic breasts if you have to get a mastectomy. Or if you're trans. This would be the store to have a catalogue of mermaid tails in for order. No more having to shop online without being able to handle the product in person. Samples. All in all there would be enough things, if you clustered it all together, to appeal to enough people that you might just be able to maintain a physical store with regular customers in more areas than your would think. Partner with local sex shops or smth.

Call it like.. The body shop, or whatever version of that pun isn't taken.

Not all of us want or can access top surgery. If for no other reason than some of us just don't want to lose sensation in our nipples, or don't want surgery.

Acting like having big tits makes you less sincere about being trans is just absurd. You get that they just grew there right? Our bodies just grew there on us and now we either support them or suffer, and that goes for just about everything [boobs, dick, bones, ass, fat rolls/folds etc].

people who hate trans men seem to overwhelmingly be of the opinion we can control how big our breasts are/were. 'me when the he/they with the biggest fattest womanest boobiest tits you've ever seen-' shut the fuck up