#so i'm not fully sure i want to go back on it

[loveesiren]

Mile High Club - R.C.

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Y/n and Rafe get a much needed vacation but they can't even wait until they land to begin. (Please ready Baby Daddy parts one & two first!)

Warnings: Smut, nursing kink, language

Word Count: 1.4k+

You'd never been on a plane before. Taking off made you nervous but Rafe held your hand the entire time and soon enough your face was lit up in awe as you watched the world below you from the window.

Juliette was only four months old. Convincing you and Rafe to go on a trip, let alone take a break, was a challenge.

"Nope. Absolutely not. I'm not leaving my daughter." Rafe argued with his parents, bouncing Juliette on his knee.

"You two never do anything for yourselves. You guys deserve some time alone." Ward said, Rose nodding beside him.

"You guys are exhausted. Just take a few days, go to the Bahama house. We'll take care of Jules." Rose added.

You looked over at Rafe and your baby. Rafe's lips were pressed in a thin line at the thought of being away from his daughter. Jules smiled up at her dad, the sight melted your heart. You couldn't imagine being away from your daughter either but some time alone with Rafe did sound really nice.

"I don't know, babe...maybe we should. Just for a few days?" You suggest, running your fingernails over his bicep.

It took some convincing but Rafe finally agreed to three days in the Bahamas. The two of you were practically thrown out of Tannyhill so John B could drive you to the airport. Going back to give Juliette more and more kisses, making sure she had everything she needed, promising to Facetime multiple times a day.

Ward and Rose laughed. You were first time parents, a feeling they remember all too well but they assured you Juliette would be fine and happy with her grandparents and aunts.

Now you were flying high in first class, sipping champagne and snuggling up to your boyfriend as you watched the clouds go by. You both agreed to try to relax and not worry. Ward and Rose raised three kids and with Sarah, Wheezie, and John B all happy to help, you knew your daughter was in good hands.

You shifted uncomfortably as your breasts started to ache.

"You okay, baby?" Rafe asked, pressing his lips to your temple.

"Yeah, just gotta pump." You tell him, reaching for your bag to grab what you need before unbuckling your seatbelt to head to the bathroom.

Rafe has a shit eating grin on his face.

"What?" You ask.

"Can I help?" He asks, licking his bottom lip.

"Rafe, we're on a plane." You whisper.

"Mhmm," He hums, leaning into you to speak against your lips. "And I need to help my baby momma out." He presses a soft kiss to your lips and grabs your hand, pulling you to the back of the cabin to where the bathroom was located. He quickly opened the door, pushing you inside gently and quickly closing the door behind the two of you before anyone could notice.

He grabs your hips and lifts you onto the bathroom counter. The bathroom was small, Rafe wasn't able to stand up fully but that didn't matter as he was leaning down to press kisses to your jaw.

"Rafe-"

"Don't need this," He muttered, tossing your breast pump to the side. You were nervous, you didn't want to get caught doing this in an airplane bathroom but you couldn't deny the heat growing between your thighs.

He tugged at the hem of your tan top, lifting it off over your head and tossing it to the side before fiddling with the clasp of your bra, placing wet kisses over your skin.

"Fuck, Rafe..."

"Keep saying my name, baby." He demanded, letting your breasts free. "Shit..." He whispered, palming your swollen breasts.

"Rafe, I n-need you to-" You muttered, hooded eyes as you leaned your head back against the mirror.

Rafe didn't hesitate to latch onto your nipple, drinking from you harshly as he massaged your other breast.

You sighed in relief as he sucked. This nursing kink of his had become a common thing. Ever since he helped you out that first time he just couldn't get enough. You found yourself reminding him that you had a child to feed as well. But you had to admit, this was way more enjoyable than pumping.

You wrapped your fingers in his hair, digging your nails into his scalp as his fingers trailed down your body. He lifted your skirt and moved your panties to the side, slowly running a soft finger against your dripping core.

"Please," You whispered against his ear.

Rafe sucked harder as he plunged two fingers into you. You yelped at the sensation and he quickly brought his other hand up to cover your mouth. You arched your back beneath him, grinding against his fingers.

He finished draining you and quickly moved to your other breast, pumping his fingers into you harder and bringing his thumb to rub circles in your clit. You could feel him growing hard against your thigh and you knew as soon as he was done nursing, he'd be fucking you in this tiny airplane bathroom.

Your eyes rolled back as the knot in your stomach built up. Rafe hummed against your nipple as you came on his fingers. "Good girl..." He whispered against your skin and you were grateful for his hand over your mouth because you couldn't control your moans.

"Feel better, my love?" He asked as he finished drinking from you.

You smiled and nodded as you came down from your high. "Thank you," You whisper breathlessly.

"Wanna join the Mile High Club?" Rafe smirks, leaning in to kiss you.

You stared at him through hooded eyes and smiled, nodding your head eagerly.

"Use your words, mama," He says.

"Yes. Please, Rafe..."

Rafe smiles before grabbing your hips and pulling you from the counter, turning you around so you could watch him fuck you from behind.

He ripped your panties down and palmed your ass, spanking you roughly. You yelped once again.

"You gotta be quiet for me, mama," He says. "Don't wanna get caught, do you?" He asks, placing wet kisses down your back.

"I'll try," You whine.

Rafe thrusts into you and you try to stifle your moan, but he was hungry for you. This wasn't like the normal love making you were used to back home. This was new and exciting. It reminded you of when the two of you first got together. All the late nights of Rafe fucking you like his own personal whore. The way you ended up pregnant in the first place. The way you fucked before you fell in love with him.

Rafe pounded into you roughly, biting into your skin to control his own grunting. You hadn't realized you were being loud until he once again clasped a hand over your mouth.

You gripped the sink tightly, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You hadn't been fucked like this in so long. You looked in the mirror, meeting Rafe's feral eyes as he tried not to cum yet. But you knew he was close, and so were you. With the way his skin slapped against yours, the wet sounds of your pussy filling the small room, you couldn't hold on much longer. Then, turbulence hit and it had you bouncing against him harder, sending you over the edge.

You began to vibrate as you clenched around his cock, sending Rafe into his own high. You felt him spill inside you and the feeling was euphoric. The last year and a half you'd spent with this man had you falling more inlove every day.

"Fuck, baby girl...I can never get enough of you." Rafe said, leaning against your shoulder as you both tried to catch your breath. "I'm gonna fuck you in every room of this house, and on the beach, and in the plane home, too."

You bit your lips at his promise. The thought of having Rafe to yourself for three whole days excited you. No crying, no tending to a teething baby at 2am, no siblings barging in on you. Just you and Rafe Cameron. This was a dream.

Rafe helped you clean up and get back into your clothes. You both hurriedly fixed your hair in the mirror before sneaking out of the bathroom and heading back to your seats. You noticed one of the flight attendants staring at you with a knowing look. You avoided her gaze but Rafe proudly slung his arm over your shoulder, smile wide on his face, completely satisfied with his life in this moment.

Tags: @torturedtypewritersdept @bigenergy777 @outerbankspov @purplerose291 @shayofandoms @mirellef2001

[zigrethsnotebook]

Writing a thesis

Ford x Reader

words: 1,968

tags: nsfw, they have sex in this, cockwarming

a/n: i usually try to write the reader as gn as possible but in here they're going to have a vagina, sorry:/

You and Ford both sat in his lab, him busy on whatever he was researching now and you busy doing some reading for your thesis. You were somehow massively behind schedule, even though Stanford Pines was your study buddy. Then again, of course you were when he regularly said things like he did today.

"Ugh, I can't focus! I need to be inside you." He turned his chair to face you. "Please?" Without looking up from your literature you answered him. "Love, that hasn't worked once and I really need to get something done today."

He rolled his chair over to you, virtually begging you to look at him. "We don't need to have sex. I just want to be inside you." This managed to pull your eyes out of your book and onto him. "What, like cockwarming? How would that help?"

Ford's eyes were hopeful and pleading. "We'd both get what we want? I'd get to be inside you and you'd get to keep working." You pondered this for a moment. If this would get him to be quiet it could be worth a shot.

Plus, there surely wouldn't be any negative repercussions of conditioning yourself to only be able to work on your thesis while you had Ford's dick filling you up. Surely.

You squinted at him. "Under one condition: You don't move inside me until I am done with this book. That's the very least I need to get done today and if you mess this up then I'm afraid I won't be able to be around you while I write this thing anymore."

Ford's eyes were big as he nodded eagerly. "I won't, I promise." You sighed. "Alright. Okay, so first things first. I want you to grab a blanket. It is too cold down here. I won't be able to sit here without pants and without a blanket."

He quickly stood up and went to grab a blanket out of one of the many cabinets in his lab. While he was doing that, you moved all your stuff to his desk as you would be sharing it for the next while.

Ford spread the blanket out on his chair. "Okay, pants off." You commanded and he quickly did as he was told. His dick was already rock hard and you could feel yourself clench around nothing in anticipation.

"Sit down." You told him as you got rid of your own pants. "And get comfortable. You'll be sitting there for a while." Ford gulped audibly. He was so needy already, even without words.

"Are you ready?" You asked him as you moved to straddle Ford, your back to him. His hands found your hip, guiding you towards his crotch. "Yes, I am."

You lined yourself up with his cock and slowly let yourself sink onto it, feeling him stretch you out in the way you loved so much. You moaned when you reached the end, feeling him fully inside you. Ford groaned behind you as well, already enjoying this a little bit too much for your liking.

After a moment of adjusting yourself to his size and relaxing around it you grabbed the sides of the blanket and wrapped them around your legs and exposed middle. In another swift movement you pulled your chair closer to the desk and opened your book back up.

Ford still breathed heavily behind you while also twitching pathetically inside you. You hadn't even done anything interesting yet. With his hands still on your hip holding you tight he tried to buck up once, making you gasp.

With a sharp tone in your voice you reminded him. "What did I say about not moving inside me?" You heard Ford whimper behind you, muttering a half-hearted apology. "Don't do that again," you grumbled as you turned back to your work.

The book had already been boring as hell when you started reading it, but now with Ford's cock pulsing inside you it took you twice as long to read it. After a few pages you could feel yourself starting to clench around him, your body betraying you in a desperate attempt to achieve some form of relief.

Ford just winced silently with every move of your muscles or anytime you shifted ever so slightly. But he held his promise. No more movement from him. He also kept mostly quiet. Ideal working conditions if it weren't for the fact that you were slowly starting to lose your mind.

His dick just felt so good inside you, already touching all the right spots, it just wasn't enough. You wanted to ride him until it was all you could think about. There was also a slightly wet spot starting to pool in your seat on your boyfriend, a mix of both of your fluids. Best not to think about it.

You turned the page of your book again, taking notes. Although, by now your notes were riddled with more references to your current position that you'd like. Scribbled beneath the lines of important texts were words like 'deeper', 'oh god' and 'can't think - dick too good' in an almost frantic handwriting.

By the third time you read the paragraph you were currently stuck at you clenched around him again, accidentally and quite strongly. Ford moaned behind you, digging all his twelve fingers into your hip. You hissed and pressed your eyes shut as he pushed you deeper onto himself.

After a moment he loosened his grip a little again. Breathless, he asked: "How many pages left?" You looked at your book, dreading the answer yourself. "About thirty." Ford just groaned in response. You turned your focus back on your book, determined to finish this as quickly as possible.

About twenty-five pages and a few more self-inflicted distractions later, you were so close to achieving your goal for the day. You were also so close to losing all control. The blanket was disgustingly wet where it touched your middle and Ford's cock was still twitching inside you.

Ford himself had started to softly caress your thighs as if his own weren't trembling beneath you, essentially turning his dick into a vibrator.

You turned the page again. "Just three more..." You barely got the words out, totally lost in the sensations. Ford whimpered in response, not trusting his voice at all.

When Ford heard you turn the page again, indicating that you were on the last one he decided to do something that would definitely make you mad at him. He moved one of his hands from your thigh to your middle, quickly finding your clit and putting pressure on it with his index finger.

Your already incredibly sensitive organ fired all kinds of reactions up to your brain, making you roll your eyes back and falling backwards into Ford's chest with a loud moan.

The movement on his cock made him wince but he still started to rub slow circles on your clit. Your entire body started shaking, the pleasure already too much for you. "F-ford... I'm not- nghh... not done yet." You were barely able to get the words out between heavy breaths and moans.

And even though it took all his strength to keep the statement true, he responded cockily: "And I'm not moving inside you." You wanted to be mad and glare at him, but you were so lost in his finger on and his dick inside you that your vision started to blur.

Your body now seemingly acting on its own started to grind against Ford's finger, making you also grind deeper onto his cock, chasing your own release. Ford's breath was hot and heavy in your neck as you could only lean against him for support.

He increased the pace on his finger a little, bringing you to the brink of your orgasm and then pulled his finger away, leaving you breathless and grinding against nothing. Well, his cock and nothing. "Wha... Ford, you ca... you can't stop."

"I have to. You haven't finished your book." He wanted to still sound cocky but his own voice was breathless and a needy beg to do it quickly.

It took you a moment to gather yourself, coming down from the brink of your orgasm with his dick still twitching inside you was no easy task. You clenched around him a couple of times, more or less deliberately. Ford whined your name behind you. "Please... read quickly."

You slowly sat back upright, making both of you moan at the movement. Your eyes found your book and tried desperately to focus on it but the words were still slightly blurry. A few deep breaths later you could read again.

A few minutes later you were done and closed the book shut. The noise made Ford open his eyes again, waiting for your signal. "I'm done." With that his hand shot to your middle again.

He let one finger poke underneath you to the spot your bodies were connected, feeling around your entrance. "God, you take me so well..." You whimpered and Ford traced the finger back up to your clit, resuming his previous endeavor.

You let your eyes roll back again and held onto the desk for support. "Ford... please." Ford hummed in your ear. "Yes... come for me. I want to feel you on my cock." You moaned loudly, letting him coax you to the edge again.

"Yes, Ford! I-I'm gonna..." You moved your hips against his hand again, the steady rhythm of his finger getting you to the brink of your orgasm again. "Yes! Yes!" Ford could feel you clenching around him strongly, your orgasm setting in, which Ford used to buck up hard, causing him to spill into you immediately.

You saw stars as your body shook and clenched and twitched all without your permission, the pleasure of your orgasm crashing into you like a giant wave. Meanwhile, it kept Ford hard and groaning as he came down from his own high.

You hadn't even come down from it yourself as you felt Ford buck up into you again, his finger still drawing excruciating circles on your clit. "Come on, you can go again. I know you can." Ford's deep voice said from behind you.

You tried to lift yourself off him ever so slightly, but your legs immediately gave out, causing you to crash back down onto him and both of you to moan loudly. Luckily, Ford picked up the pieces and continued bucking up and drawing circles like his life depended on it.

The needy moans and wet sounds your bodies made rang out through the entire lab and Ford mentally thanked himself for having soundproofed this area of the house.

Ford's rhythm became erratic as he panted into your ear. "Won't last... much... longer." And one thrust later he spilled into you again. "Ford... please don't- ngh. Don't stop."

Even though he was fully spent he couldn't deny you now. He managed a few more pathetic thrusts as he put more pressure on your clit, sending you over the edge again. Ford held your shaking form as you rode it out on him, both of you red-faced and panting.

As you came down you could feel his dick going limp inside you and you pushed yourself off of him on shaky legs. You managed just enough to pull him out and sit back down on his legs, the blanket around you both preventing you from going any further.

You felt his sperm drip out of you and onto his legs but neither of you cared, too busy trying to catch your breaths.

You let your body fall onto the desk. "Ford?" His hand reached up to your back and he hummed in acknowledgement. "I love you." He chuckled lightly, his voice still breathy. "I love you, too."

[forgivenpunishment]

Before Wolfwood can argue about his clothes being fine thank you, Vash is in his trance—clearly uncomfortable. He furrows his brow in concern, wanting to reach out, to bring Vash back, but if he does then he might get sucked into the mindspace as well and... that wouldn't be great if he's supposed to be guarding the Plants.

So... he sighs. Instinctively, he reaches in his blazer to find his cigaret—

Oh yeah, his shirt and blazer are riddled with bullet holes. That must've been what Vash meant by new clothes. Well, that isn't his fault; Wolfwood had been the one to try that reckless tactic in the first place, hadn't he?

Sighing again, this time in frustration, he turns away to scan the room before noticing the curious Plant staring at him. He looks behind him for anything else she could be staring at, but finds nothing except guardrails and walkways. It... looks like she wants him to do the same thing Vash is doing, but... if he does that, then...

"You know I got a job to do, yeah?" Wolfwood speaks to her, looking her in the eyes, "I have to keep your brother safe from any creepy crawlies and make sure he comes back once he's done..."

He scratches the side of his head, digging his fingers into too dense black fluff that, again, probably needs to be cut. Is this because he's no longer fully human? Because he's... whatever he is... he's part Plant? Does she think he's one of them?

Fixing her a stern stare, Wolfwood tries to listen for any hint of danger. Still nothing—which is eerie, but there shouldn't be any noise down here outside of machinery anyway.

"... Okay fine—but I can't, uh... I don't know what I'm doing. And I can't be gone for long. And I don't even know if this will work. So, uh... be gentle with me?"

Wolfwood approaches the tank cautiously. He's not usually one to submit to whims or curiosities (especially if there's danger), but if there's a chance that he can help things go a little faster... that he can help Vash... it's worth it. Probably. Unless it goes to shit.

Still unsure of himself and trembling, the undertaker approaches the tank and places his palms against the glass to match hers and then, hesitantly, allows his forehead to make contact with the cool, smooth glass.

Vash would quietly revel in that lingering touch, more than he probably should have. Something that would be a good lifeline, if he needed it... so he held onto the feeling as long as he possibly could just to burn it into his memory; the same way he would if this was the last time Wolfwood would ever touch him like this--

"You say that like I don't already owe you those things after dragging you to a place like this..." he said, laughing lightly and nervously, as a sort of filler sound. The sooner he started, the better, but he could spare a second to look over his shoulder, so he could (hopefully) reassure his partner. He'd done this... hundreds of times in his lifetime thus far; the ballpark figured had to be somewhere nearer to the thousands than not. What was there to be scared of?

... the unpredictability of it, for starters, with his innate connection to his sisters having been forcibly opened up. But Wolfwood was there... and if there was anyone who would fight, tooth and nail, to bring him back from the brink if something were to go wrong, it was Nicholas D. Wolfwood.

And probably at a cost to himself, so let's just make sure that that nothing goes wrong this time. Easy, right?

"... next town we're in. I'll treat you there, okay? A nice dinner, cigarettes, and new clothes. Maybe even a nicer hotel if I can swing it~."

A promise without saying it was a promise. Vash was not getting dragged in this time-- he was coming back and he would give Wolfwood those things, no matter how long it took to work up the cash to do so... but they had to get this done first in order to get to that, so...

No more stalling. The blond turned his head and faced forward again-- and with a quick, quiet breath both in and out, he tipped his head forward, pressing his forehead to the glass. While his patterns ignited and brightened his skin, the Dependent did the same, lifting her head and bringing her face up close, closing her eyes, and...

Instantly. Instantly, it felt so, so awful. Vash couldn't stop himself from letting another noise slip through, but it was less of a shout this time. One of those involuntary sounds of discomfort; around the same level as someone groaning about a headache that suddenly came on.

No immediate pull, though. So far, so good...

... some of the healthier Dependents were looking over, probably wondering what was going on. If their kin was going to be alright. But one in particular, the one leftmost of the tank Vash was touching... she seemed to be staring at Wolfwood in particular. Drifting lower in her tank to get as close to the glass as she could, and blinking with big, curious eyes...

[marauders-bs]

do-do-do-do-do i am gonna make an alt ending for this >:) it will be sadder be prepared

"Go away," Regulus said, head bent over his book so his curls cover his writing.

"I want to know why that happened."

Fucking James Potter. Of course it's Potter.

"It didn't," Regulus said, dipping his quill in ink. "That didn't happen, Potter. It was a reflex."

"It was a reflex to kiss me back?"

"That's what I said," Regulus muttered, thinking of the curses his friends knew for when they figured this out and almost smiling at what Potter had coming to him.

Potter rolled his eyes. "What, so you stick your tongue in people's mouths anytime they kiss you? Who are you kissing, anyways?"

"Barty gives pretty good tongue," Regulus said casually, enjoying the way Potter's eyes widened.

"Why are you kissing your friends?" Potter asked, very clearly trying to play nonchalant.

Regulus looked up, putting as much Black sarcasm into his face as he could physically muster. "Bat's kissed all of us. We were high, anyways. He's got-"

James sat forward, leaning over towards Regulus. "Oh? Who's he got now?"

"If I told you," Regulus said, closing his notebook, "We'd both wake up in May in the States. Bat doesn't fuck around."

"How would he know?"

Regulus raised an eyebrow in Potter's direction. "He knows."

"Your friends are so strange," James says. "I'm almost glad I don't know them."

Regulus shook his head, picking up his quill and fishing Advanced Potion Making out of his bag. He'd stolen the copy from Sirius, who hadn't even noticed it was missing yet.

"If I were one of your friends," Potter asked, clearly unable to stand the silence, "Would Crouch have kissed me?"

"Probably," Regulus answered. "But we're not friends, so it doesn't matter."

"You don't think we could ever be friends?"

"No," Regulus answered, trying very hard not to think of James's hair or his shoulders, or the way his arms were now folded on Regulus's shoulder.

"That's good, I think," James whispered, bringing his head to rest on his hands, which was still on Regulus's shoulder. They were eye-to-eye now.

Regulus could've shoved him off. It was probably what James was expecting.

He didn't.

"Why?"

Regulus turned his head and found James's face mere inches from his. He couldn't help but be reminded of the day before, when James had surged forward out of almost nowhere and kissed him.

"Friendship," James whispered, eyes dropping to Regulus's lips and back up again. "That's not exactly what I want from you."

Regulus's hands felt useless. He wished he could do something with them.

He remembered yesterday, when James had kissed him. Sure, Regulus had kissed him back and fled, but-

In the moment.

This time, it was Regulus who leaned forward. He let his eyes flicker closed in their little corner of the library Regulus had casted a concealment charm over once James had arrived.

He leaned back, just a little, when Jame was unresponsive.

"Why'd you stop," James murmured, smiling a little as he drew Regulus by his neck, and Regulus had no idea how his hands had ended up there but they were warm, and-

Sweet Salazar, James was warm. He was like a little sunbeam personified. Regulus wormed his hands to James's back, doing his best to turn his shoulders so they could fully face each other.

They broke away only to kiss again, and Regulus had to open his eyes.

James was smiling, yes, Regulus could feel that, but his eyes were closed and he looked relaxed. Regulus hadn't realized either of them weren't relaxed until they both were.

"Was that a reflex, too?" James murmured against Regulus's lips.

"Oh, fuck you," Regulus replied, leaning in again. He couldn't help the smile that spread across his lips.

[shapelytimber]

Wanted to paint some of my favorite characters, nothing more nothing less

[COMMISSIONS]

Way too much yapping like an embarrassing amount, the individual portraits and the template I used below vvv

I shouldn't be allowed to talk about my favorite characters- especially to people who (presumably) don't know them xjfkdk apart from the very popular ones ofc

ILLYA KURYAKIN (The man from U.N.C.L.E)

gay ass little Russian spy I love him he is so *dramatic* and a huge nerd and a Beatles fan and into fashion design- perfect pocket size blorbo ;w; also seeing a Russian character being given a positive leading role in an American tvshow from the 60s ?? Yes he lives in New York and works for UNCLE America.... But he is still a communist ?? Incredible ! Also I really like the fact he isn't given the cliché personality traits often given to Russian characters i e anger issues drinks a lot violent ect (looking at you shitty(imo) modern remake... What did you do to my little guy ;;). In a close contest with Spock for the "gayest man from tvshow" of the 60s..... And in my heart he is winning djdkd for me the gay subtext of muncle hits so much more because it's not a scifi show- it's closer to home, Napoleon and Illya were *like that* in the present day of the 60s, they were both human, and no alien fuckery made them go to the village more than once or play house in the suburbs or get attached ass up to get pegged on a regular basis... Truly a show that feels written by an old queen and a guy with the biggest fem dom fetish jkvjjkb (don't get me wrong tho I adore star trek tos and spirk too <3)

KUROO HAZAMA and PINOKO (Black Jack)

sometimes I rewatch some of the oavs from the 90s when I'm sad :) I had a huge phase a couple years back when I read nearly all the manga (should really finish it... Or reread the whole thing frankly), watched *all* the shows (bar young black jack, hated that shit) and idk I just love this venal bitch so much- him and his daughter and his conflicted feelings for his tboy ex that he still loves kfkfkf btw I'm dying for a modern take on this like please please please I'd love to see Kei Kisaragi's story rewritten a bit (trans character in the 70s sure was progressive but oh boy-), because him and black jack's relationship makes me so *weak*.... And maybe see him a bit more than in one story- anyway ! When it comes to his daughter Pinoko, it's very hit or miss- when the writers lean on the cute father adoptive daughter relationship it's great, when they lean more on the whole "she has a crush on him" (very much like a child in most case, and he *never* reciprocate thank god) and bring up the fact she is technically 18 a lot (she was an evil tumor trapped in her sister before he created a body for her- black jack shit dw), and she gets jealous of other women.... Well it's terrible and I'm uncomfy :(

EVA KANT (Diabolik)

Look.... You just can't show me danger diabolik 1968 and not expect me to become insane djdkdkdk she is so cool ;; !!! Her and her devious eel of a man (here as a panther, because even tho I haven't read the comic yet, I'm taking an educated guess that all the panther imagery is here to represent him, the lethal twunk always in the all black gimp suit... And if it's not then fuck my entire life ig fjfkkd), the cuntiest het couple you've ever seen, such freaks I love them ! Partners in crime that will blow up the tax offices of the whole country if you try to put a bounty on them <3 they are in the guilty faves category only because I'm this invested in these characters after 1 (one) movie fkfkf watched the first two remakes and was hmmm let's say underwhelmed, could have been worse but going after the 60s one ie peak cinema was hard... I went in fully invested in these heterosexuals and they still fucked up their romance and relationship ;; (don't spoil me the third one btw haven't seen it yet ! I know it's the yaoi one- which doesn't give me much hope for Eva tbh...) I'll soon start reading the comics tho ! Managed to find all twelve volumes of "Il grande Diabolik" in french for pretty cheap so I'm excited for that :D (might scan them and upload them online because omg I tried finding scans in *any* language and only found a dubious website that sold digital copies for 7€ a volume ??? What is this)

UTA (The Void / Тургор / Turgor / Tension)

Apathy girlyyyyy she just like me for real for real nfkfk what absolutely charmed me about her is yes her design, but more importantly her chamber's design (if you've never played the void, a sister's chamber is a space that represent her. You get a sense of who she is by exploring her chamber before finding her and talking to her soul it's great). The lonely island out at sea, her laying down on a suspended steel boat in a grotto, looking passively at the moon by a crack on the ceiling.... And the moon is looking back. Incredible ! I love this game so much

KIM KITSURAGI (Disco Elysium)

Do I really have to explain this one ? When I played the game with quiji I remember I kept saying "when Kim talks, we *listen*" djkdk we did get a good grade in Kim Kitsuragi and got him to dance in the church <3 this fucking centrist cop wormed it's way into my heart and many others because of course he did. The only Kim K in my eyes. Also funny anecdote : before I played Disco Elysium, I had one concept art masterclass where a kinda famous concept artist came to give advice, make us really stressed then give us a shitty grade.... And when I tell you this man looked so much like Kim ??? Same haircut, glasses, face with a scar *exactly* where Kim's portrait has a stark shadow on his cheek and he was dressed in an orange top- truly uncanny. Anyway, Kim is so fucking cool how does he do it

DARK VADOR (La guerre des étoiles)

*sight* not surprising if you know me... and to be clear when I say Vader I don't mean Anakin Skywalker, post barbecue only zouz here. I refuse to yap about this man djdkdk I already do that way to much in ao3 comment sections

And here is the template I used ! Don't know who made it tho sorry...

PS : all these where made in 2-3 hours each :D wanted to challenge myself by painting quickly, and I mostly (looking at the Eva Kant one that gave me trouble) succeeded !

[greengoblinswifey]

Hit My Line—Fratboy!Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— you and nicholas are on thanksgiving break away from each other so he hits your line for help in his time of need.

warnings— switch!nicholas, L bombs, fluff, phone sex, male and female masturbation, dirty talk, praise kink, degrading kink.

a/n— happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate but be careful with the turkeys, the men are fucking them apparently <3

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

This was the longest stretch you would ever be away from Nicholas, and every minute would seem to drag. But as you pulled away from the college campus, you turned back to reassure him, fighting the tears in your eyes.

“It’s just a few days, baby. You’ll see me soon,” you whispered softly, trying to ease the ache in his heart. “And if there’s anything—anything at all—hit my line.”

His voice was thick with emotion, but he nodded, a soft smile breaking through his sadness. "I’ll miss you so much."

The few hours apart felt unbearable, even though they weren’t even a full day. As soon as you arrived home, your phone buzzed with a message from Nicholas:

“I miss you already. I can’t stand being away from you. I just want to hold you.”

You smiled, typing out a quick reply: “I miss you too, baby. We’ll be back together before you know it.”

Thanksgiving morning came, and you woke up with a yawn, your phone ringing beside you before you even had the chance to fully roll out of bed, his name flashed across the screen. You smiled, picking up.

“Happy Thanksgiving to my incredible girlfriend,” Nicholas beamed over the phone, his voice warm and full of affection.

“Good morning, baby,” you whispered, your heart fluttering. “Happy Thanksgiving to you too.”

“I'm so thankful for you,” he said, his tone deepening. "You mean everything to me, I love you.”

The words hit you like a wave. It was the first time he'd said it though he had showed it in other ways, and the tears that threatened to well up in your eyes couldn’t be held back. “I love you too,” you said, voice cracking.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry, baby,” he cooed. “I’m just so glad I have you.”

You wiped at your eyes, trying to calm yourself. “It’s okay. I’m just so thankful for you too. You're the best boyfriend I could ever ask for.”

He chuckled softly. “I miss you so much, and Mom wishes you were here with us for Thanksgiving. I really want you to be a part of the family.”

“I promise, next time,” you said, wiping away your final tear. “Tell her we’ll make it happen.”

You both hung up after a few more heartfelt words, and as the day went on, you spent time with your family. But your thoughts often drifted to Nicholas. The love between you felt so deep, even with the miles separating you.

That night, you made sure to text him. “How’s Thanksgiving going, baby?”

His reply came quickly: “Great, but I have a bit of a problem, I’ll tell you about it later.”

Concerned, you quickly typed back: “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. It’s nothing serious, just something I wanted to talk to you about later, when we’re alone.”

You smiled, having an idea of exactly what he meant.

After a while, when your family was settled and you were tucked into your childhood room, your phone buzzed. It was Nicholas, his voice lower than usual.

“Hey, baby,” he said, sounding a little—off.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s the problem you were talking about? You’ve got me worried.”

He took a deep breath before speaking again. “Well—uh, to be honest, I’ve been really horny all day,” he admitted with a slight laugh. “And I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You felt a surge of heat at his confession. “How can you be thinking about that when you're with your family?” you teased lightly, but there was something about the way he said it that sent a shiver down your spine.

He hesitated for a moment, before confessing, “I don't know, I just—I’ve been thinking about you nonstop. I wish you were here.”

You let out a soft laugh, heart racing. “Well, baby, what do you want to do about it?”

There was a brief silence on the other end, and then he whispered, “I’ve never done this before, but I wanna try phone sex. I’ve heard the guys in the frat talk about it, and I don’t know—I just really need you.”

“I’m down if you are, baby,”you said softly, feeling your body react. “But I don’t have my vibrator with me.”

Nicholas chuckled. “Well, I don’t have anything but my hand, but that’s enough as long as I hear your voice.”

Your breath hitched, and you could practically feel the tension between you two building on the phone. “I think that’ll do just fine,” you said, a teasing smile playing at your lips.

“Wait fuck, I forgot I had facetime, wanna switch?” he suggested.

You hung up immediately and called him on facetime, a small smirk on his face. There he was in all his glory, hair messy, shirtless with just his pajama bottoms on and his hard dick printing.

You had your bonnet on, bare faced and draped in a silk, two piece pajamas. “You look beautiful,” he said, admiring you as the red of your LED lights lit up your face, “the red lights are fitting.”

He propped up a pillow in front of him, skillfully angling the phone so that you could see his entire body. He was gorgeous as always, the dim light cascading over his shirtless body, his abs, his pecs, those fucking biceps. You wanted him on top of you crushing you. He was built like a Greek God.

You did the same, propping up the pillow and angling the phone so he could see your figure.

“You’re so fucking beautiful baby,” he grunted, bucking his hips. You could see the outline of his cock pressing against his pajamas.

“Tell me all the things you want to do to me baby,” you whispered, just loud enough so he could hear over the phone.

Nicholas pulled down his bottoms, his hard cock springing out, the sight made you bite your lips as you stared at his body through the phone screen.

His hand slid down his chest, teasingly close to where he was already hard, and your breath caught in your throat. “God, I miss that body,” you breathed, your voice a little shaky.

Nicholas’ gaze darkened, his lips curling into a smile as he ran his fingers over his abs. “You like what you see, baby?” he asked, his voice husky, each word slow and deliberate. “You’re driving me crazy here. I’m so hard for you, you have no idea.”

You shivered at his words, “I think you’re forgetting who has the real power here,” you teased, your smile playful yet full of the same heat that you felt building between you both.

He let out a low laugh, clearly appreciating your confidence. “You know you’re just as beautiful as always,” he said, his eyes never leaving you. “I can’t stop imagining the way you’d feel with me inside you right now.”

You grinned, “Is that so? I think I could help you with that. If only you were here.”

“I’d be all over you,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. His hand moved lower again, teasing his cock, though he didn’t touch fully. “I’d show you just how much I miss you.”

You bit your lip, unable to stop your pulse from quickening as his voice made the moment feel even more intimate. “If I were, I’d make sure you never wanted to leave me again.”

Nicholas groaned softly. “You’re playing with me, aren’t you?” His eyes flickered as his breath quickened, clearly lost in the moment. “You’re making me wish we weren’t miles apart right now.”

You smiled, a sense of power blooming within you as you responded, “Trust me, baby. I’d make it worth your while.”

You pulled off your satin pajama top, revealing your boobs, your nipples hard. Your hands went to them groping them as you bit your lip.

“Fuck, keep doing that baby, grope those fucking tits for me,” he moaned, his hands now stroking his painfully hard cock.

“I wish you were here to do it for me baby, I love the way your tongue flicks my nipples,” you said.

Your hand went down your abdomen and you heard Nicholas moaned, his movements speeding up. Swiftly, you slipped off your shorts and your panties, your pussy glistening in the light.

“Fucking hell baby, I’m gonna be so fucking deep inside that wet pussy when I see you,” he gasped, his hand moving to caress his balls.

“I’m gonna ride that cock so good, make you cum deep inside me.” You moved your fingers to collect the wetness onto your fingers before rubbing your clit. Your back arched off the bed and you did what you could to make sure you moans were soft enough so only Nicholas could hear.

“Fuck, I need that so bad right now baby, keep rubbing that clit, tell me more.” He spread his pre cum on the tip, a sweet whimper leaving his lips as his body shuddered.

“I want you to choke me while you fuck me, hard while you tell me how much of a slut I am,” you murmured, rubbing your clit in rough circles.

“I can do that baby, I can tell you how much of a dirty slut you are, fuck, you’re such a slut right now for doing this with me,” he said. The words uttering his lips were foreign to him, he was more inclined to have you do the degrading and taking the lead—unless you asked of course.

“Oh— baby, I wish you were here to fuck me hard from behind, I know how much you love this ass slapping against you,” you breathed out, your efforts speeding up, you were right on edge.

“Make sure you keep that same fucking energy when I see you, ‘cause I’ll be the one in control,” he said, tilting his head back slightly as his eyes averted to your fingers moving between your legs and his hand wrapped firmly around his cock, “you see how fast I’m stroking this hard fucking cock? That’s how fast I’ll be fucking you.”

“Baby, I think I’m gonna cum, can I cum for you?” you asked, now slipping your fingers inside your pussy.

“N-not yet, take those fingers out and put them in your mouth and then fuck yourself with them again,” he demanded, stroking his cock even faster now, “then I want you groping your tits.”

You did as you were told, bringing your dripping fingers up to your mouth and moaning around them as you savored your own tasted. Your hand went to your boobs, groping them as you imagined they were Nicholas’ large hands. As you did, you slipped your fingers back into your pussy, the sound of squelching the only thing that could be heard apart from your boyfriend’s breathy moans on facetime.

“Fuck, be a good fucking girl and cum for me, cum for me baby,” he gasped.

“Oh, Nicholas,” you moaned, your back arching from the bed as you finger fucked your pussy. Your juices spurted from you, coating your phone screen and the pillow in front of you. You moved your fingers to your clit, rubbing and guiding yourself through your orgasm, trying your best to quiet your breathy moans.

“Fucking hell baby, you’re so hot, squirting like that—shit, oh God, I’m gonna cum, can I cum baby? Please, I’m your good boy, I wanna cum for you,” he gasped, his body trembling as his hands moved quickly up and down his shaft.

“Cum for me baby, let me see that load all over your hand for me,” you uttered, groping your boobs as you watched him through the phone.

You got more than what you bargained for as Nicholas came all over his hand and even more so on his abdomen. “F-fuck baby, that was so hot,” he moaned breathily.

You both took a moment, panting as you stared at each other, your naked bodies rising and falling.

“I really enjoyed that baby,” you smiled, “shit, my screen’s all messed up.”

He laughed, rubbing his cum all over his abdomen, “I enjoyed that even more sweetheart, but now we gotta get cleaned up and you need your beauty rest.”

“Well, I guess this is goodbye until I call you next morning?” you giggled.

“No problem baby, I love you so much, never forget that and I miss you so much, I can’t wait to see you,” he said, his hair sticking to his damp forehead.

“I love you too Nick, I’ll call you tomorrow and I’ll see you soon.”

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

OKAY. HEAR ME OUT.

Justis (Dave’s son) bringing reader home bc they’re together, but Dave thinks she’s hella cute and reader too whatever. And then they end up fucking in like a bathroom or something😻

A/n: I'm feeling Christmassy, hope that's not a problem

Warnings: Smut, cheating, age gap, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

University was hard, you tried to get out when you could but you were always focused on your schoolwork.

Your friends brought you out a few times to bars or whatever but you were more comfortable being the designated driver. Oddly enough it was when you were studying in the library that you met Justis.

You had a class together and he confessed he always caught himself looking at you and wanting to talk to you but just couldn't bring himself to do it until then.

You kept talking with him, he was nice and always brought you snacks when he knew you'd be studying. It was good and you knew, worst comes to worst, University is for experimenting, which you'd be doing a lot of once you met his dad you just didn't know it at the time.

It was Christmas time, the perfect time to meet his family, his dad and sister at least, and you were excited, sure, but as soon as that door opened and you were met with Dave it was like breathing for the first time.

He was different, the way he smiled at you, that look in his eyes as he looked you up and down, taking in your appearance.

You had to remind yourself over and over you were here with your boyfriend, Justis, but your eyes kept going back to Dave, always meeting his.

The plan was to stay a week but you felt like you should make up an excuse to leave earlier, not that you wanted to but you saw the way Dave was looking at you, saw the hunger in his eyes.

It was Christmas Eve and you couldn't sleep, couldn't even bring yourself to close your eyes while Justis was out beside you, arm loosely wrapped around your torso.

Someone was moving around downstairs, you knew it was Electra because you would have heard her walking down the hall, it had to be Dave.

You couldn't take it anymore and decided to just go talk to him, it was innocent enough.

You managed to get out of bed without disturbing Justis and made it downstairs to find Dave wrapping a few presents and tucking them under the tree, as you got closer you saw they were marked 'From: Santa'. Neither Justis nor Electra believed in Santa anymore, obviously, but he still liked keeping that there.

He panicked a moment when he finally noticed you but calmed down when he saw it was you. "Jesus, you scared me." He said with a gruff chuckle.

"Sorry." You said, smiling back at him. You moved to sit next to him on the floor, looking over the pile of gifts under the tree.

"I got you some too, don't worry." He said, tucking the present he'd just tagged under the tree, setting it on a bigger one.

"Really?" You asked, tilting your head to him. "I didn't think you would." You said, looking back to the colourful wall of wrapping paper. "I-I didn't get you anything." You admitted, biting your bottom lip as you looked back at him.

He shook his head and placed his hand on your thigh, over your fuzzy Christmas pyjama pants. "You got me enough, sweetheart." He looked straight into your eyes as he said it, his own carrying a much darker gleam in them. He brought his hand back and picked up another gift while you sat and thought about what he really meant.

You sat with him for a while longer, watching his hands as they flipped and folded the paper. You handed him the tape as he worked, it was weird if you didn't help at all so you did the bare minimum, the smile he gave you when you handed him a piece made it worth it every time.

As time bore on you felt yourself finally getting tired, gradually moving closer to Dave until you were fully leaning against him.

He helped you up once you were done and walked with you to the stairs, your room was up them while his was down the hall, still he followed you up the stairs.

He heard someone moving in your room before you did and he pulled you into the bathroom across the hall. He flicked the light on and smashed his lips onto yours, a kiss you immediately reciprocated.

Justis stepped out of the room and saw the lights on in the bathroom, assuming you'd just gone in there and would be out soon he turned and went back to bed, all while his dad was tugging on your clothes.

Your fuzzy pants slid down your legs and he saw you'd gone commando. "Really, sweetheart?"

"Just for you." You gleamed, pulling him back into a kiss.

He lifted you up and set you down on the counter, standing between your legs and pushing his own pants and boxers down, just enough for his dick to spring free.

Your breathing was heavy, as was his. Your cheeks were flushed, your forehead pressed against his as he pushed into you, causing you to moan before he could slap his hand over your mouth.

"I knew it was you the other night." He said with a chuckled. It's true, you'd been thinking about Dave all day and couldn't get him off your mind after you crawled into bed. "Thinking of me, weren't you?"

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Not my fault when you look at me like that." You said, feeling yourself fluttering around him, eager for him to move. "He almost looks like you, anyway."

Dave snorted at that. "Doesn't feel the same, huh?" He asked, voice low, almost a growl. You shook your head, Dave was bigger in pretty much every way. Girthy and veiny and he smelled divine, you just kept aching for more. "That's what I thought." He mused, kissing you again as he started moving his hips, thrusts quickly picking up pace.

He was eager to please you, but it had been a while since he'd been with someone, he could already feel himself getting close.

He brought a hand to your clit, the sudden friction made you gasp into the kiss. He knew the second he pulled away you'd be moaning out his name like a worship song, he wanted to hear it but he couldn't risk waking up his kids, especially not with one of them dating you.

You mumbled something into the kiss, he didn't quite catch it but didn't think he'd have to. Then you pulled away. "Dave! I-I'm close, fuck!" You called. He rushed to get a hand over your mouth but you just pushed it away. The room filled with your moans, Dave gave up on silencing you and focused on how good you felt around him.

His arms wrapped around you as you came, he followed shortly after, letting himself spill into you.

It wasn't until then that he realized the banging he heard wasn't the two of you.

"What the fuck?!" Justis yelled from the other side of the door.

[charmandabear]

Office Hours: it's so easy to bite with your hands pinned (2/16)

Summary:

After fantasizing about it, Rosalind can't stop thinking about what it would be like to fuck Ancunín. Maybe Shadowheart is right, maybe she should just do it to get it out of her system.

Pairing: Astarion/named f!Tav Rating: explicit

Word Count: 3.4k

Chapter tags/warnings: vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, p in v intercourse, blood/blood drinking, creampie/no breeding (full list on ao3)

Yayyyyyy chapter 2! I've been absolutely going through it personally, but your comments and kind words have brought me such joy. My goal will continue to be to upload Sunday/Monday so if I miss a day, I give you full permission to yell at me. (But please be nice, I'm very sensitive.)

Read it on AO3. ~ Masterlist (coming soon.) ~ Office Hours playlist on Spotify.

“Shadowheart, I think I fucked up.”

Rosalind picks at the cardboard sleeve on her coffee cup as Shadowheart grabs her latte from the counter. Her best friend’s eyebrows disappear into her platinum bangs as she fixes Rosalind with a cautious look. They had met six years ago while moving into adjacent apartments. Shadowheart was already working at BGU in the Divinity School, and a few years back she helped Rosalind get an interview with Volo in the theatre department.

“Do I need to kill someone or help you bury the body?” she says with a sly smile, and Rosalind groans, almost too ashamed to admit it. She has complained far too much about Ancunín for what happened last night not to be exceedingly embarrassing.

“No, not that,” she begins, then takes a sip of coffee to brace herself. “You know that snotty Renaissance Lit professor I’ve mentioned?” They tap their phones on the turnstile censor and file through one at a time.

“Yeah, the one you’re always going on about?” Shadowheart looks over her shoulder as she asks the question, and she’s treated to Rosalind’s dramatic eye roll.

“I’m not always going on about him,” she grumbles, and Shadowheart’s laugh reverberates off the metro walls.

“You absolutely are, but continue,” she smirks, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Okay well let me at least show you what he looks like before I lose service,” Rosalind preemptively defends herself, pulling out her phone and searching for the BGU English department faculty page. She scrolls down to Ancunín’s portrait and turns the screen towards Shadowheart.

It looks like a candid photo but it’s very clearly composed. He’s sitting pitched forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He’s looking off to the side and his brow is furrowed like he’s engaged in vigorous academic debate. It’s wildly pretentious.

“Oh. Oh,” she says in a low tone as her eyes study the screen. Suddenly she gasps and looks at her friend with wide eyes. “Rosalind, no, tell me you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t!” Rosalind shouts, perfectly scandalized. Then, in a much lower voice that ultimately gets drowned out by the roar of a train flying by, she says, “I just thought about it.”

“What?” Shadowheart shouts, pulling her scarf in a little closer to protect herself from the wind cast off by the train.

“I just thought about it!” Rosalind shouts back, wishing she had just waited to speak.

“Thought about what?”

“Fucking him!” Of course, she shouts this last bit just as the train has fully passed, which means everyone else waiting on the platform hears her clear as day. Rosalind hides her flushed face behind her cup, praying that no one from the school is also taking the metro today.

“And?” Shadowheart looks at Rosalind expectantly.

“And what?”

“How was it?”

Rosalind scoffs and looks down the tunnel at the train’s headlights in the distance in order to avoid answering her question for a second longer. “I mean, it was my imagination, so like good I guess?”

“Well sure, but would you want to do it in real life?” As Shadowheart answers, the train comes to a screeching stop and the two of them board, snagging a two-seater as far away from both entrances as possible. Shadowheart pinches her knees together and places her bag delicately on her lap.

Rosalind sighs heavily before answering. “Man, I dunno. I’ve never really been into the idea of hate sex, at least not since Aradin.”

Shadowheart makes a face of abject disgust. “He doesn’t even know how lucky he is that I’ve never been in the same room as him.”

“Trust me, I’ve never been more appreciative of having someone so eager to commit murder for me,” Rosalind laughs, putting her hand on Shadowheart’s knee. They sit in silence for a few minutes, and Rosalind looks out the window at the other platforms whizzing by. 

“I think you should go for it,” Shadowheart says suddenly, and Rosalind chokes on her coffee.

“Excuse me?” she coughs as she wipes her mouth.

“What’s the worst that could happen? If it doesn’t work out, you can just go back to hating him like before, and at least then you won’t need to wonder anymore,” Shadowheart says matter-of-factly. She’s awfully nonchalant about having just described the literal nightmare scenario.

“Excuse me, how is that possibly meant to make me feel better?” Rosalind gapes at her.

“At least you get a good shagging out of the deal, right?” Shadowheart flashes a coffee-stained grin and Rosalind pushes her face away.

“Maybe not, he could be terrible for all we know,” she replies smugly as the train slides into the University stop. They funnel out with the hoard of students and other professors who also get out onto the platform. “Man, Shade, we need to get you laid, don’t we?” Rosalind teases her as they trash their empty coffee cups.

“Listen, you’re closer to getting some than I’ve been in months, it’s not that good out here for most of us,” she groans.

“Hey, if I end up getting lucky, maybe he’s got some pretty colleague he can hook you up with,” Rosalind says with a shit-eating grin and Shadowheart rolls her eyes.

“Absolutely not, English academics are the worst.”

***

Rosalind and Shadowheart split ways in front of the student union, each of them heading to their respective sides of campus. Rosalind goes directly to her office and immediately closes the door — usually an unthinkable act but entirely necessary today. She can’t look at his face right now. She can’t possibly look him in the eye.

She spends the majority of the day locked in her office, double checking the hallway before leaving to teach Voice and Speech. She even avoids the main office for fear of running into him there. 

When 5:00 rolls around, she takes a peek outside her door to see most of the other professors leaving. To play it safe, she decides to work until six so she can be absolutely sure he’s gone by the time she leaves. She passes the time by absentmindedly grading weekly reflections. It’s only when she realizes that she’s read one paragraph about Miss Julie about a half dozen times, she figures it’s time to leave.

She pokes her head into the hallway, but can’t tell from this angle whether or not his door is closed. She grabs her bag and coat, takes a deep breath, and makes a beeline for the stairs. It’s only when she approaches his office door that she realizes it’s open. 

Fuck.

It’s fine. She can just walk past it and get to the stairs and then she won’t need to worry about it. He might not even be in there. Or if he is, he probably has his head down and won’t notice her walk by. It’s fine. She can feel her heart pounding in her ears nonetheless.

“Oh, professor, a word?” His voice floats into the hallway right as Rosalind passes his door. Are you fucking kidding me? She turns to see him sitting at his desk, head down, writing something. He doesn’t even bother looking up at her. Prick.

“Yes?” she asks coldly, not budging from her spot in the hall. He glances up and looks at her over his glasses. Those fucking glasses. Rosalind wants to rip them off his face and throw them out the window.

“Do you have a moment? I think we need to talk.” His voice is low and cool. Does he fucking know? There’s no way he can know.

Right?

Rosalind takes a tentative step into his office. It’s surprisingly cluttered for a man who always looks so put together, but it’s somehow warm and inviting. She can barely see the walls from being covered corner to corner in overfull bookshelves. He’s got a big mahogany desk in the middle of the room — significantly nicer than the university-issued ones. It’s covered in stacks of papers, books, weird little knick knacks; it’s amazing how he’s able to get anything done on it, honestly. Two chairs face his desk, but they’re covered in a rich plush velvet instead of a scratchy cotton weave like the ones in Rosalind’s office. He’s got a scent diffuser somewhere, giving the room an aroma like an earthy spiced tea. 

“Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the cushy red chairs across from him. Rosalind stands still, clutching her bag, staring at him like a deer in the headlights. When he realizes she’s not going to sit, he gets up and crosses over to the door.

“Do you mind if I close this? It’s… a bit embarrassing,” he asks with a crooked smile. She can feel the heat in her cheeks rising. Her mouth goes dry as she tries to swallow the lump forming in her throat.

There’s no way he knows.

Right?

But something compels her to nod, so he closes the door and walks back to his desk. He leans casually on the edge of it, facing her and crossing his arms in front of his chest. He’s taken off the blazer he usually wears and is down to just the turtleneck, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Rosalind watches him carefully, waiting.

“I wanted to… apologize. For yesterday.”

Rosalind blinks at him, the conversation immediately not going in the direction she expected. She still feels so much shame about last night that it takes her a moment to realize what he’s referring to.

He sees the gears turning in her brain and decides to continue. “It was inappropriate to barge in on your meeting with your student. You were mid-instruction, and I needn’t have inserted myself into your conversation.” He leans back on his hands, stretching out his lithe figure to impossible proportions. Rosalind’s grip on her bag slackens and she can’t help but drag her gaze over the length of his body. He looks back at her quizzically.

“I get the sense that you don’t very much like me,” he muses. Now it’s his turn to give the once-over, and Rosalind feels practically naked before him with the way he leers at her. “Then again,” he adds, and pushes himself off his desk. He slowly advances toward her, though whether like someone approaching a vicious beast or a predator stalking its prey, it’s unclear. She retreats while holding his gaze until her back is flush against the door. 

No escape now.

He gets precariously close and takes an unsettling whiff. When he speaks again, his voice is a husky growl.

“I think it’s entirely possible you like me… quite a bit.” He’s at least a half foot taller than Rosalind, and he looks down on her with heavy-lidded eyes. The heat in her face has fully reached the tips of her ears now, and her breath comes out ragged. 

“I’m sure I—” she begins, but it comes out thick and raspy. She clears her throat and tries again. “I’m sure I don't know what you mean,” she finally manages with all of the composure she can muster. He cocks an eyebrow, then slowly takes off those infuriating glasses.

“No? Then perhaps I’m mistaken, and your heart rate hasn’t drastically increased in the past few minutes.” His eyes continue boring into her. “And maybe that smell between your legs is completely unrelated.”

An undignified splutter escapes Rosalind as she presses her thighs closer together. He takes a half step back to let her respond. 

“If I am indeed mistaken, then I’ve said my piece and you’re free to go.” The seductive honey is gone from his voice, and in its place is a politely professional tone. He’s giving me an out, she realizes. He’s saying that we can both laugh at this as an embarrassing moment and never bring it up ever again.

But on the other hand… Rosalind thinks back on her conversation with Shadowheart and swallows thickly.

“You’re not mistaken,” she manages to choke out in a whisper. The lazy smile is back and he lifts her chin with his index finger.

“What was that? Speak up.” His command makes Rosalind’s knees go weak and she withers under his gaze.

“You’re not wrong,” she says more boldly, trying to meet his energy. His smile broadens, and for the first time she notices two pointy fangs slip out beneath his upper lip.

Fucking

vampire??

That explains why he could track Rosalind’s heartbeat, and even more his ridiculously keen sense of smell. Doesn’t make it any less humiliating. 

“No, I don’t suppose I am,” he snarls and suddenly he’s kissing her roughly, hands twisting in her hair and one knee sliding up between her legs. He pushes her against the door, lifting her up onto her toes. She’s desperate just to keep up as he devours her, her hands weakly grasping at his hips, shoulders, neck. But he’s fully in control of the kiss, and after a moment she lets him take her.

He breaks the kiss but doesn’t pull away as they both breathe heavily, air cycling between their lungs. Rosalind’s head is full of a thick fog and she can’t see straight. His hands are still in her hair, tight but not pulling — yet. Why do I get the sense that might not last long?

He drops to his knees and she nearly doubles over from the sudden lack of support. He runs his nose and lips across the hem of her black denim skirt, inhaling again. Her fingers lace into his hair, but not even remotely in the dominant way from her fantasy. At this point she’s just trying not to collapse. 

He looks up at her, flashing another fang-bearing grin. His hand slips up her skirt and his thumb runs across her pussy, barricaded by sheer tights and panties.

“Darling, you’re positively soaked,” he hums contentedly. “You’d have a hard time hiding this from anyone.” She bites her lower lip, trying to keep the needy whines at bay. But when he fiercely rips the crotch of her tights and presses the flat of his tongue against the drenched gusset, she can’t stop the cry from escaping her throat. He sucks lasciviously, the debauched slurping noise ringing in her ears. Her knees buckle and he grabs hold of her hips, hiking up her skirt to get better access to her dripping cunt. He presses a finger past her panties and slips it into her, and she gasps at the stark temperature difference. 

“Gods, fuck,” she groans under her breath, and she runs a hand through her hair as her head drops back against the door. He presses his nose into the flesh of her lower belly, licking and kissing it as he slides in a second finger into her. She can feel her legs beginning to shake as he pumps into her, stretching her out. She grasps the handle of the door trying to brace herself on something. When her hips begin to subconsciously roll against his hand, he yanks his fingers out and she whines at the sudden emptiness. 

“Someone’s needy,” he sings as he stands before sucking her arousal off his fingers. He pulls her into another searing kiss and the taste of her lingers on his lips. He grabs her ass and digs his fingers into her flesh, spreading her cheeks until she gasps into the kiss. In one fluid motion he sweeps up her legs and wraps them around his waist. She yelps in surprise; he’s significantly stronger than he looks.

He carries her over to that incredible mahogany desk, plopping her down on the hardwood and sending books and papers tumbling to the floor. He presses his bulge into her mound, this time the sound of both of their groans mingling pleasingly. He tears at her chiffon button down, trailing hungry kisses down her chest as she throws her head back in pleasure. He makes quick work of fully removing her top, though she’s certain he sacrificed some buttons in the process. She can hardly bring herself to care as she paws wantonly at the back of his neck, desperate for him to get his lips onto every single inch of her. He pulls down the lace cup of her bra with his teeth and starts sucking on her nipple, pressing his hand into the small of her back. She arches into him, his hands working her like a soft clay.

So much for the pleading mess that she pictured last night. Instead, Rosalind has been reduced to shambles, begging for his satisfaction.

“Puh-please,” she stutters, and those devilish eyes lock onto hers again. He snakes his way back up her chest and bites her lower lip.

“Puh-please what?” he mocks her stammering, but makes up for it when he rolls his hips forward, dragging that delicious hardness against her. She squirms, trying to pull him closer but he’s got her arms locked in his grip. His lips leave hers and ghost over the flesh of her neck. He very gently scrapes his fangs across her jugular, eliciting a ghoulish moan from her in return. By all the gods, Rosalind hadn’t even considered that as a part of it. His movement makes it clear that he won’t bite unless she wants him to.

But holy hells does she want him to.

“Gods Astarion,” she gasps, and she’s almost certain she can feel his cock twitch at the sound of his own name. “Fuck me then bite me, or the other way around I don’t care, but please get inside me!” The string of words almost sounds foreign to her, but she’s well beyond the point of trying to sound clever. In an instant, he’s undone his belt buckle and his erection springs forth, bouncing and already dripping precum. He roughly shoves her panties to the side and sinks his cock and teeth into her simultaneously, drawing out her cry of both pain and pleasure. She wraps her legs and arms around him, trying to pull him in deeper. She feels his mouth filling up with hot blood just as her cunt fills up with his dick. 

His pumps are slow, taking his time as he swallows gulps of her blood. The obscene slurping noise mixed with his heavy breathing and occasional grunts that tickle her ear send her reeling. She’s always had a sensitive neck and more than enjoys the occasional hickey. But this is a whole new level of pain mixed with pleasure. His lips grow warm with her blood and she bucks against him, her whines getting swallowed by his curls. Her hands cup his ears, and she’s unable to stop herself from playing with those tiny silver hoops. He lurches and pulls away from her neck, looking absolutely feral with her blood dripping down his chin, which only sets her off more. 

“Please, I-I need more,” she whimpers breathlessly, angling her hips towards him and trying to get him to thrust faster.

“You eager little thing,” he growls, and the animalistic sound pulls another desperate whine from deep within her. He pushes her back down onto the desk and hooks his elbows beneath her knee high boots, pressing her thighs against her chest. He begins to pound into her properly, sending her hurtling towards climax. She grabs onto the edge of the desk as he revs up his pace, his cock stretching her out as he keeps her feet up by his shoulders. The heat begins to mount in her core and she knows it won’t be long before she comes. But at this point she’s just trying to hold on for dear life.

“Fuck, gods, Astarion, I’m—” She finishes before her sentence does. He doesn’t relent as the orgasm wracks her body, if anything, he fucks into her harder. Just as she’s barely come down from her climax, he pulls out and yanks her off the desk, spinning her around and pushing her face down into the smooth mahogany, warmed from her back. He pushes her skirt up to her hips and grabs a hold of her ass, his nails digging into the part of the tights still in-tact. He slides into her again with a groan, and already she can tell that she’s working her way up to a second one. Her bare tits squish against the polished surface and he grabs her hair, pulling her head up and arching her back into him. 

She desperately wishes that she could see his face because she can feel his thrusts getting more uneven and erratic. She tries to turn to get a glimpse of him, but his grip on her hair remains tight. But even if she can’t see him, she can still hear him, his grunts and the low string of incoherent swears pouring out of his mouth. The sound of him getting lost in her is enough, and her own moans start building and mixing with his, an utter symphony of epicurism. 

His hips give a few more broken thrusts and she can feel his climax, setting off a second for her. The throbbing of his cock matches that in her cunt, and she holds onto the edge of the desk as the waves wash over her. Once the ripples have settled he pulls out, and she can feel his semen dripping out of the sudden emptiness and running down her leg. She silently says a thankful prayer for her IUD.

They’re both panting as he collapses onto her back, planting a half-hearted kiss on her spine. She weakly pushes herself up off the desk and sees the devastation of papers, smears and fluids. She turns around to relish in his appearance. Her blood is splattered on his fine cream sweater, his usually perfectly coiffed curls damp and sticking to his forehead. She reaches up and wipes the remainder of her blood off his chin. He smirks and gives her a surprisingly gentle kiss. 

“That was good,” she murmurs through steadying breaths, “but next time, keep the fucking glasses on.”

[socksracoon10]

Hii!! This is in response to you asking what charles and carlos both did in the vegas gp!

I'm just gonna be completely fully objective here, bc rlly they didn't do anything wrong.

What happened was, a series of radio msgs between the team and Carlos occurred, in which they told him they were going to stay on Plan A (one pit-stop I think) instead of Plan C (2 pit-stops). Carlos argued back, saying they should be pitting and how he wanted to pit right now/ next lap. They said no.

At this point, Lewis is pressuring Carlos, and Charles is behind Lewis. I'm pretty sure george had already pit his second time and was still leading. Max and lando had also pitted a second time.

Anyway, the team finally listen and tell Carlos to come into the pits. However, they mess up and weren't ready and then tell him to stay out. Obv, Carlos is mad now. No matter, they pit him in the next lap.

4 laps later (or 2 I can't exactly recall) they pit Charles. The team tells Carlos not to pressure Charles. The team tells Charles that Carlos won't overtake him. You see where this is heading, don't you.

Charles comes out PARALLEL to Carlos (I think the team thought he'd come out ahead). Carlos' tyres ate 4 laps old. They're heated up. They're faster. Charles has absolutely new, dead, cold tyres. Carlos doesn't pressure him. He simply drives around.

The real dram started after the race when we all saw Charles' radio😭 Honestly, this is just a team problem not a driver problem.

Alot of ppl are saying they would've gotten better results if carlos let Charles ahead— they really wouldn't have. There was no way the ferraris would've caught up to those mercs.

ANYWAYY, there's my most objective views. Maybe, I'm.missing a few things but I'm negl the race was honestly so boring to ACTUALLY watch, like now there's drama but literally nothing was happening apart from this😭

Thank you for this! Cuz this was what I saw during the race and what I thought happened!

I find it frustrating that people are blaming Carlos when it wasn’t Carlos’s fault at all, and I also find it frustrating that people think Charles’s meltdown was wrong. I keep saying this in every post but its clear as day that this was a ferrari problem not the drivers!

Mercedes was on a different level this weekend, they sure as hell were going to be 1-2, no doubt about that. And I get that Charles was trying to get p2 in the driver standings, but… 3-4 for constructors is literally phenomenal? I don’t see how Carlos isn’t a team player when this was the best outcome that could’ve happened. Besides his did better in qualifying anyway.

And I hate people mentioning old races like oh well Carlos moaned about this once… forget the past races, only focus on this one. Ugh, ferrari screwing over their drivers isn’t new but god, as someone who loves Carlos and Charles, I really hate seeing the fans tear each other apart.

Once again, thank you for the explanation!

[mudandmire]

Azris one-shot

listen. listenlistenlisten I don't know what this is, I just thought it would be nice to see Eris drool over some thick, meaty Azriel. Not my intention to make him sound like a well-cooked steak but alas.

I wrote this in a very short amount of time so if there's typos or issues my bad but also I'm trying to get better at *gestures vaguely* not caring so much that it stops me from posting :D

(be warned there is smut, semi-graphic but I'm still virgin-esque at this so not fully)

*drops this and runs*

...

Eris had never truly thought of it—like looking at the sun straight on, it would probably burn him to do so. But that didn't mean he didn't see. Search the differences between two bodies and try and imagine where his hands would go on the soft curves of a waistline. The blush pink of kissed cheeks and satin skin framed by long, silken locks of hair. He could like it, could find the beauty in it, of course. But it was more like looking at flowers, the glimmer of sunlight on the surface of a lake. Such beauty was expected, known, and only to be looked at and admired—nothing to touch, certainly nothing to desire.

This body was different in all forms.

The camps had melded at some point, Eris had ended up somewhere different this time and honestly he was too stuck in his head to find his way back. The inky blue black of the night court wear became more common, Eris realized distantly he was somewhere in or close to the night court camp. Yet still, it wasn't enough to send him back-pedaling to his own camp, his own tent.

A male had come crashing to the earth, and Eris had seen skin. It was only once he had shut his agape mouth with a snap that he recognized the cobalt blaze of stones on the Illyrians chest and hands. Azriel—because surely he was forever cursed to only know that name, and so intimately that he knows the taste of his blood in his mouth yet doesn't know the shape the tattoo on his chest takes.

Azriel was yelling, tendons stark against his skin, sweat and a streak of blood across his forehead and jaw. His leathers were torn, from throat to nearly the waistline of his pants, hanging in ribbons around his body as he shucked off the arm of the male he was helping stagger to a medic. Something about the anger, so present it seemed to rattle his whole frame till those exposed parts of his body was jolting with it. Eris knew in some way that Illyrians are carved differently than autumn fae, even more so than high fae, yet it doesn't stop his mouth from going dry at the full look at just how different.

It's meat—he thinks it half-crazed. A healthy thickness to Azriel's chest that brings a curve to his pectorals, flexing with his movements as he shoves away one of the males, still shouting. Eris follows the path easily down, like his own trail of droplets of water or sweat or whatever remains staining his skin that glossy bronze. The weight of those muscles continues further, bunching at his abdomen which heaves and flexes and the hollow of his navel catches the light—

Shit. Cauldron boil him there are no words strong enough to describe the pang of lust that strikes him blind right between the eyes. It must've traveled all the way down the line of his spine because suddenly Eris can't breathe, can't look away, can't do anything but stay stuck, standing and feeling for the first time what he thinks is the white hot flame of desire flickering at the base of his spine. Some tease, some gentle prodding of 'you see me now?'

It's not like he didn't know. Eris had dragged Azriel's unconscious body enough times to know how impossibly heavy he is. It doesn't matter—seeing it, even partially bared to him like this, may just be the thing to send him to his knees.

He wants it.

Cauldron damn him to Hel, he wants.

And he's never been good at it, getting a hand around himself and reaching some pinnacle, some kind of precipice of relief so grand it's all the males his age could whisper and talk about. But he thinks, a little wild, a little starved, he thinks if he had the full weight of that body between his thighs. If he had it, warm with blood and flush with heat, maybe keeping the stripe of dried blood on his stubbled jaw—he thinks he could do it. Find the kind of release the soldiers in his army seem to find easily between the legs of a female.

And that's—that's the problem. That's him, in the depths of the problem.

It's amazing how many realizations he comes to within the span of what can be no longer than a couple heart beats. But in one moment Eris is watching the way Azriel's powerful body moves, muscles flexing under the bronze glint of his skin, and the next they're meeting eyes. Eris's body had gone from bubbling with a new kind of heat to icy with dread. The kind he only knows in window-less cells, iron chains.

Azriel meets his eyes, even from paces away, and Eris curses to himself as he feels his stomach swoop. Trying to dip closer to where that flame had rested even though it's hardly anything more than a dimming ember now. His eyes narrow, and Eris just hopes he can't see any of the lingering tinges of lust in his own gaze. That everything he felt had been kept in his head away from the environment outside.

For a moment he thinks he has succeeded in maintaining that careless facade, Azriel's own gaze darkening and his mouth tightening with a scowl. But then something happens, faster than Eris can understand, and he watches through what feels like fog as something crosses the Illyrian's face. His head tips, predatory and watchful, and begins to walk over.

Eris breathes out harshly, refusing to admit that it comes out trembling, that there's a part of him shaking deep behind his rib cage in fear that Azriel saw. Saw what Eris tried to hide and is coming to make an example out of him.

Eris draws himself up, chin pointed and looking down his nose as Azriel gets closer.

"Can I help you?"

Azriel doesn't say anything, the silence unnerving, as he just watches Eris from under the shadow of his lashes.

"Behind you." He says, Eris has to work to ignore the swell of his pectorals in front of him.

He swallows hard, off-balance, "I—pardon?"

"Tent, behind you, it's empty."

Eris starts to catch on—and it may not make a lot of sense, he may be welcoming his own murder, but there's something in the way Azriel's looking at him that brings the white hot flame back. The bubbles in his stomach, a clench at the base of his spine.

-

He's the first one in, the first one to cross the threshold of the tent but Azriel's not that far behind.

It's a different world when he steps through, maybe just a single moment in that world. A moment where Eris is allowed to look, to want.

And he wants.

-

Azriel's big, from up close and far away and right between his thighs the breadth of his shoulders is enough to send a tender ache through the muscles of his legs and the joints of his hips. It's messy from the start—trying to stay quiet and Eris coming to the mortifying realization that he's miserably bad at that. So Azriel keeps his mouth on his, or slides his fingers between his lips when he asks for lubricant, or presses his whole palm down across his mouth when he slides in.

All of him—Eris feels the length of him against the base of his spine and shivers hard—inside, pressed close, gods how can a body be so hot and not burn to ashes? And from there it's a chase. Eris keeps his teeth pinched in the meat of Azriel's scarred palm, and Azriel keeps his noises buried in the crook of his sweat-damp neck. He's all muscle, and there's no soft dip of a waist to cradle. There's no satin skin or delicate blush. Azriel is heavy, his stomach rolls over itself when his hips thrust back in, skin and muscle and Eris swears he can feel the flex of it all on his own neglected arousal.

His hands are—gods his hands—they're rough and worn, yet every now and then one will leave their position branding his hips with petal-shaped bruises and come up to cradle the back of his head. They run gentle over the back of his thigh when he pries him apart further—asking for him to open his body more, thighs to hip to where he's split open and raw at the center of his being.

The scars themselves are finger-prints.

These aren't the hands of anyone, of any male. Eris knows now, as the heave of their chests gets dire; the air hot and wet between their mouths, the constant, hard push of his cock right up into that one place that sets his belly on fire—he knows he'll forever remember this touch. Know these palms blind he swears he's been branded by the lightning-shaped ridges of them.

There's a moment where Eris loses sight, fingers locked in silken raven hair, as his hips move in harder, faster, his eyes rolling back to the point white sparks dance behind them. It's the end, some primal part of him knows what's coming even if he's never reached pleasure like this, and yet he digs in further with his nails, his heels as if keeping Azriel close will stave off the inevitable.

It does the opposite, Azriel's grunting low in his throat, animalistic and wanting and Eris sighs a soft moan when he feels the indentation of teeth at the hinge of his jaw. The noises their bodies make is nearly enough to send him off, but he's hanging there, just at the edge, just waiting.

Azriel's biceps flex, reaching under Eris's thighs and pulling them out and up so the backs of his knees rest in the crooks of his arms. He's folded, bared even further than he possibly thought he could be—feeling the roll of his own skin against himself and wondering when it got so wet. Gods does it do it, though. Azriel keeps himself closer than ever, hot breath against his cheek as Eris claws at him, a wail muffled behind his own hand, and feels the break through his body.

The angle, the pressure against that one perfect spot, Azriel's warmth and weight drawing so much heat from him, into him, everything snaps in one moment.

Azriel is there through it all, when Eris futilely arches up in some form of welcoming the lightning branding his spine, and when he comes back down. Still coiled tight under Azriel's working hips, though they falter in pace again, and again, and once more before Azriel curls over Eris's sweat-soaked, shaking body like the protective limbs of a tree.

The weight of his heaving stomach pressing against Eris's own makes him swallow hard, carding a trembling hand through Azriel's tangled locks, wondering if the scent of sex will stick to him like sunlight or if he'll only smell like he would after a battle, a sparring match. For a moment it's easy, gentle, breathing together and trying to find the balance they had completely lost once they crossed the threshold of the tent. Eris doesn't mind, the company is nice, even the ache of the stretch which has grown into a dull throb is pleasant.

It's the after he's dreading. The unsticking of their bodies, because Eris is warm here, and he knows deep down when Azriel pries himself away something vital will be ripped from him.

But it's a quick tryst in an empty tent, they both have things to do, and Azriel still has dried blood flaking on his cheeks. Eris supposes he can keep the memory of it for himself, just a little while.

...

(can you tell I didn't know how to end it)

um so like Hi. It's been a minute I blame college and my abysmal time management. First azris thing I've written in m o n t h s and man am I rusty but wow it feels good to get these two freaks back on my page 😎

[taki118]

Kirishima and Other Women

Among the criticism and complaints of Raise Wa Tanin Ga Ii aka Yakuza Fiance the most common is about how Kirishima "cheats" but what if I were to tell you this aspect of him actually serves an important point within the narrative? Because it does, in fact it serves a few.

First and foremost this is common in the Yakuza subculture. The series is a bit of a send off to Yakuza subculture and media with references that tend to go over your head unless you are into it (most go over mine). This is no different. While this isn't as narratively important it is important to know overall, the series embraces all things Yakuza the good and the bad (unlike some other Yakuza series but that not a rant for here) And like it's implied pretty much all the guys in the series to it to some degree yes even Shoma. I only have some knowledge of this myself so I won't get into it but I would recommend looking into cause it is interesting and makes sense for the series to incorporate on some level due to this and it would feel wrong to not mention it.

Now lets go onto to something more meaty and kinda spoilery, so don't read (though I don't think it will ruin your enjoyment)

So these other women actually help to better understand Kirishima and his relationship/feelings towards Yoshino. One detail the anime leaves out is who these women are and they are women. All college age or older, and all some kind of working professional who has skills or connections Kirishima does not have. Remember Kirishima is not technically Yakuza so he does not have access to resources that actual members of the group have but because he is involved with that world still he has to find a way to make up for what he resources he lacks. The safest resource he has found over the years is women.

Just like how Yoshino unintentionally raises the ire of women, Kirishima does the same to men both intentionally and unintentionally. He has difficulty connecting with people which is a topic in and of itself, but because of this he has learnt how to gain connections on a superficial level so he only does so with those he can feel some control over or feel safer. AKA Women. Kirishima knows he's attractive, and he knows how easy it is to charm people but those had an ongoing connection with are those who understand it's a game and want something back.

It's all quid prop quo, he does something for them and so they in turn do something for him. FYI I'm pretty sure what he's getting out of it isn't psychical pleasure, information, connections and a safe house for sure but actual enjoyment from sex? Not likely again the anime doesn't show it very well but many manga readers have noted how disconnected Kirishima looks during these moments. (Which I will fully get to later) It's an exchange when Yoshino calls him gigolo she's not wrong, and there is a greater discussion to be had here about how early Kirishima started doing this and all the messy stuff that comes with it but because we don't have enough information on how that started I won't get into it. (and its a little off topic)

Overall all though this shows the audience that Kirishima has a kind of warped view of sex and intimacy, he views it as a resource he can use much like his fighting ability, to him it's the same thing. At least at the start.

When Tsubaki tells Kirishima that he is actually very easy to understand when she has Yoshino there to compare, I believe this was a hint the author was giving us. To understand Kirishima and how he really feels about Yoshino who just need to look at how he is with other women.

It is INCREDIBLY telling that the closest thing Kirishima has to an ex-girlfriend is Nao, because notice how that term is never used within the story by the pair as to what their relationship was. Nao calls Ozu an ex but not Kirishima, he's just a guy she had a fling with (with a weird age gap) even though she seems to care more about him than Ozu (another deep dive I'll probably do). Kirishima also never uses the term, he does note that he did like her to some degree more than likely a little more than the other women he has similar situationships with but it was still at its core transactional. They both wanted what the other could offer more than them as a person. (also just fucking for weeks isn't a relationship) Kirishima always keep everyone at a distance, keeps everything close to the vest, makes sure the situation is advantageous to him so he can't get screwed over, every single one. Except Yoshino.

You see it constantly in the series as Kirishima WANTS to connect with Yoshino. He wants to better understand and connect with her in ways he has never bothered to before. In fact you can argue that Kirishima is actually more emotionally unintelligent than Yoshino as he has such difficulty in understanding what Yoshino wants from him. He's so use to being fake, to acting the way women around him want him to be that it throws him through a loop that Yoshino doesn't want that. She forces him to be a person not a persona.

Because of that, like Tsubaki says, he is desperate to understand and connect with her unlike with the women who he is connected to in a superficial way. I know it weirdly upsets some viewers that these women "Know" Kirishima in a way Yoshino hasn't but they don't actually know him Yoshino does. People often conflate love and sex as being the same thing but its not, sometimes it overlaps (and like that should be the standard but its not). This series sort of forces you to confront that assumption, because the real moments of love are in the smaller things.

It's Kirishima helping Yoshino with her garden, its him trying to get her focus on him, its him talking to her about mundane things, its him seeking out the things she wants, its him telling her his birthday, and yes it's him sleeping with other women to keep her safe. A LOT of people don't realize this but it is right there in the text he only reconnected with Nao because it would make the situation in Osaka more advantageous for him to keep Yoshino safe. There is a very good likelihood that if the situation would 100% not get Yoshino involved that Kirishima would have just stayed out of it. (which like damn sucks for you Nao) In actuality Kirishima likely would have preferred just a normal trip to Osaka with Yoshino (even though the chaos does help him confirm his own feelings again) Kirishima wants to desperately to be connected to Yoshino in anyway he can but you don't see that in how he is with other women, and it's in seeing that you can see his authenticity.

For further reference to something I noted earlier look at how Kirishima looks in these scenes with women both during and after sex.

There's little to no actual emotion or care, he operates almost robotically like you see when he fights someone he doesn't really give a shit about. It is something he's doing cause he has to not cause he wants to. Now compare these reactions to how he reacts when he finds out he accidentally/unconsciously felt Yoshino up

It's this flurry of emotions you can't even fully quantify like he can't even fathom he really did that. Kind of a strange reaction to give to someone who has done way more for way longer, but it makes perfect sense if you remember love and sex are different. With these other women he didn't care, sex didn't mean anything they could have been anyone and in all honesty if he could get away with not doing it he'd probably prefer it. But he loves Yoshino so he actually cares, he is actually turned on, he actually feels something.

THAT is the point of the side women. Kirishima is very hard to understand his character is a mystery for a majority of the series (and to a degree still is) these women help to solve that mystery if you take the time to really look at what's happening and not get parasocially angry that he is "betraying" his love for her. In his mind he's not because love and sex are different, sex to him until Yoshino is just a tool, its one of the many things that Yoshino changes in him over the course of the series. Lets not forget that one of his side women actually makes him realize the situation with Yoshino isn't all that great (the scene is better in the manga) cause he doesn't have the emotional intelligence to realize that himself and is a catalyst for the two actually growing closer. Like I keep having to cut myself short cause I'll just go off on how wonderfully complicated and uncomplicated Kirishima is as a character, but this is an important aspect to understand and shouldn't just be written off as "He's a red flag".

These women give us insight into how Kirishima is Pre-Yoshino and shows us how far he's come Post-Yoshino, in a way that could not be done otherwise. So maybe it makes you uncomfy for a bit but it's not bad writing it serves a purpose that could not be done otherwise.

[tiredandoptimistic]

I've been thinking a bit about Comrades In Arms, and I want to talk about bow Margaret's behavior towards Hawkeye once she thinks they're A Couple sheds a lot of light on how she views her place in romantic relationships.

Firstly there's the obvious thing that she's so focused on a potential serious relationship that it doesn't really occur to her to see things the way Hawkeye does (friends can have sex sometimes and don't need to make it weird afterwards). Margaret is no stranger to casual sex, but this blending of sex and a strong emotional bond with an absence of romance seems to throw her off. She and Hawkeye are good friends, they're clearly attracted to each other, why shouldn't he be her next great love? Sure, he's not the type of guy she ever pictured herself being with or even felt super interested in, but Frank and Donald were far closer to her tastes and they both turned out terribly.

Secondly, I think it's very important to note how completely her behavior and attitude change after she and Hawkeye have sex. Part of it is probably just her feeling genuinely optimistic about her love life for the first time in a while, blending with general exuberance over not dying in the shelling overnight; but I think a lot of it comes from her mentally shifting Hawkeye from a friend to a romantic partner. We see with Frank, Donald, and Scully that Margaret is more than willing to change herself to suit the needs of her lovers. I'd even go so far as to say that a lot of her arc is about learning to stand up for what she wants in a relationship, rather than just slipping into the submissive wife role.

I've talked about this in other posts, but I think it bears repeating that Margaret yearns for love and affection and since it's the early 1950s she believes that the only way to find that happiness is by conforming strictly to gender roles when it's expected of her. She's too feminine to be content as a full time soldier, too masculine to be content as a full time housewife. Rather than trusting that she can find a unique path that works for her, she lets herself change to fit the narrow view her society holds on gender. She likes Scully, Scully likes housewives, so she'll act like a housewife when she's with Scully because the alternative is being alone. Simply put, I'm not sure that Margaret really believes that anyone will truly love her for all that she is. Now of course this mindset is something she grows out of, and in that Scully episode she ends up telling him off and giving up on that relationship because it's not worth being with someone who would force her to keep changing and changing herself to fit his ideals. Still, she doesn't have that perfect partner who will love her in all her complexity.

Going back to the episode with Hawkeye, I find it fascinating that Margaret slides so cleanly into this supportive girlfriend role. She's immediately endlessly complementary to Hawkeye and acts like all his ideas are brilliant and all his jokes are hilarious, because that's how she thinks you get a man to stick around. The problem is, for all his issues with misogyny, Hawkeye doesn't actually want a doting yes-woman who agrees with everything he says. He's made uncomfortable by Margaret acting this way, because the real reason she's one of his best friends isn't because she's hot; it's because she's Margaret. He loves her for her genuine personality, which is why they're only really to fully click once Frank is gone and she's no longer dampening herself to fit with him.

Ironically, in trying to make herself more romantically palatable to Hawkeye, Margaret instead becomes totally unappealing. She's so completely unused to the idea that someone could be into her for her, she thinks that step one in a relationship is to embrace all of her most extreme femininity because she thinks that's the only type of woman who can be loved.

In the end, I'm really happy with the way Margaret and Hawkeye's relationship turns out. They have an extremely close friendship that isn't devoid of romance, but at the same time neither of them actually wants to be together as a couple. Margaret never needs to change herself for Hawkeye, and in fact the more she embraces her own convictions the more deeply he cares for her; but that doesn't mean that they're actually suited romantically. They fit into each other's lives in a different way, which is something Margaret isn't used to. I don't think she fully realized that she could have deep relationships with men other than a husband, so I truly adore seeing her open up to other members of the 4077th and building those bonds with Hawkeye, BJ, Charles, Klinger, and Colonel Potter. Putting up a tradwife facade only works in prolonging relationships that should never have lasted in the first place, and by the end of the war she's moved past that by learning how to love herself and building up a support system of people who embrace all of her contradictions.

[arpicityandneed]

Hi there! I'm so excited to hear your page is growing! Your work is amazing and I can't wait to see what you write next. Thank you for taking the time to share your work with us! 💜

If there's still space, could I ask for 2 or 10 with Steve or Bucky?

Thank you again and good luck in school!

Thanks!! It's my pleasure to share honestly.

Steve (#2 sex in front of a big window where anyone could glance up and spot them)

18+ f!reader. Cap!Steve. Dirty talk. Spanking. Semi public sex.

You couldn't breathe, couldn't think, all you could do was feel. Your cheek was pressed against cool glass as your boyfriend fucked you ravenously.

Alright maybe you shouldn't have teased him so much- each selfie sent during a tactical meeting was just your way of passing the time.

In your own defense, you'd been unsupervised.

But Steve had simply thrown you over his shoulder when he got back, ignoring your squeaks of protest. Your tshirt (his actually) was ripped in half before you got thrown on the bed, and all you got was one of his shit eating grins and a "you asked for it" before he was on you.

That was three- four? rounds ago, and at this point you weren't sure if you wanted to curse or thank Erskine's serum. Your boyfriend's stamina was endless.

"Come on pretty girl, where'd all that attitude go hm?" Steve was panting in your ear, thrusting his wickedly fat cock into your cum filled pussy over and over as his massive hand slapped your ass cheek.

"Thought you wanted my attention. Well now you have it baby." He bit down on your shoulder hard enough to leave teeth marks as you clenched down around him, every roll of his hips dragging the head of his cock over your spot and making you keen.

"Stevie," you moaned completely out of it as you fucked yourself back onto his cock shamelessly, each balls deep kiss of his tip to your cervix making your eyes cross.

"Yeah yeah, I'm here sweetheart. Just gotta gimme one more and I'll let you rest for a bit mkay?" Steve may be enthustiatic but he was still gentle with your nonenhanced body. (As gentle as you wanted him to be anway.)

All it took was his hand snaking around to find your clit before you were screaming his name, grateful for the soundproof glass of Stark tower.

Steve groaned and pulled your hips flush against his before he added even more of his super sized load to your overflowing folds. If you had hand shaped bruises on your hips tomorrow you wouldn't be surprised, but more importantly you wondered if birth control worked with super soldier sperm.

Gentle hands picked you up when you would've fallen to the floor happily, carrying you to the shower and turning on the hot water as they held you close.

"Hey baby, can you open your eyes for me?" Steve cajoled softly, cupping your cheek in his hand as you blinked up at him blearily.

"Try that shit again and I'll have Bucky deal with you, he loves putting little brats like you in their place." Your eyes widened in shock and more than a little bit of interest, and it just made Steve laugh.

"Next time baby, rest now."

~

(10 minutes prior)

Bucky moved silently, Steve's text with coordinates and a simple note 'enjoy the show' made him curious he could admit. But he wasn't expecting to see your pretty little self fucked out and pressed against the glass.

Steve had picked the perfect spot, the exact coordinates giving Bucky a private view of Steve's window and your fully naked body split open on his best friends cock.

"Well I'll be damned," Bucky muttered as he adjusted his erection in his pants.

Even 70 years later, Stevie was still a fucking punk.

[melmedardasworld]

So I edited this post a few times since what I wanted to convey just couldn't come out, and then I stumbled across this explanation.

And all of this!

To continue with my own thoughts.

I'm not sure where the takes of Mel is more than Jayce's girlfriend or being reduced to just being at a man's side is coming from that is being spouted.... Meljay shippers know this?

People are annoyed and confused to see what was set up from S1 until S2 Act 1 and the sudden a disconnect of how we got to know the relationship was handled and their final conversation. Most of us would've been fine (I know I would) with the breakup if it wasn't so off and lackluster.

It didn't feel like Mel and Jayce, granted they went through the trenches both physically and mentally, but that understanding is only being applied to Jayce in how he behaves. Mel is just a bystander and has to take it, and she was never like that. Or did her time trapped by the BR just make her numb to everything because she feels so much and hasawakenied as a Mage and empath? If so, the writers did shit to make it clear, and we have to fill in gaps and explanations with headcanons.

Most importantly, Mel only gave and gave to others (professionally, non proffesional, platonical, familial, etc) but got nothing of the sort in return.... not even a hug, a hand squeeze, a how are you nada. That apology she got was, again, so offstandish. I didn't expect Jayce to cry out or be a lovey dovey anything, but he was more heated to scold her a beat. Mel barely got a word out there, too, to explain her side. She doesn't even fully understand her powers...

Also, in regards to interactions, why didn't we see a moment between her and Caitlin? When her mother died, Mel told Jayce to go to her, and had she seen how Ambessa did what she did, Mel would've shut things down, too. But we couldn't see the two of them bond over having lost their mothers?

No one in Piltover was concerned with their influential councilor who went missing for weeks/months? It would've been nice had we seen her and Shoola as the last ones standing or talk about the future of Piltover and the convo moving to Mel returning to Noxus and leaving it in the people's/their hands, but not a lick.

We just see her board a ship because she now has the weight of the Medarda line (who she needs to build from the ground up while the Black Rose is still out there and likely has to deal with more politics in Noxus that is more on the violent side) on her shoulders to a country she's been exiled for who knows how long.

Mel is getting to terms with her powers, her legacy, but even with her mother, Kino, Elora and now going back to a country she was exiled from, AND having to lead a faceless army. WHERE IS HER COMFORT!?!?! Who does she have to share all of this with above one minute.

It also doesn't help that people (yes, shippers mostly cause one scroll on your page they barely talk about Mel outside of ship. Not even about the popular 'she has a larger storyline' takes. Just invalidate why Meljay doesn't and never would work or was always doomed takes in response to OG shippers sharing their grievances.

There is weird and fake trolling in the meljay/mel tag when the same people never had something to say about her/ any of her relationship up until the finale and the last few Meljay scenes.

But now everyone can supposedly yap as some fake intellectual and shade others' people being annoyed, sad, and disappointed in the WAY it was written to THEM for their ship.

Meljay shippers literally had to create a niche tag because the main ones are being spammed with bad take after take and where Mel/Meljay is undermined while claiming it is all in balance in the end. Is that not insane?

Please, miss me with that. It is irritating and condescending.

Shippers in fandom love love and just a relationship in general. This is nothing new so why all these bad fate takes? They are allowed to vent their frustration on how the story for their ship is handled. Most of the same shippers also have an analysis of the characters' they ship and larger storyline that was set. Act 3 plot lines were squeezed in such a way with so many minutes left. I am still of the opinion that we should've gotten either 3 or 6 more episodes to tie all the stuff together properly since the writers themselves decided to introduce all these storylines. There was just a disconnect and OOC behavior in Meljay that wasn't expanded upon in a better way imo.

[hyog-blog]

Fangs of Fortune (ep.03 - ep.05)

Oh god, where do I start? Everyone has become less stabby now, but mildly insulting each other seems to be the new form of flirting (between, like, everyone?). Okay, between the Zhuo Yichen - Zhu Yan - Wen Xiao trio for sure. I'm seeing you, guys, you don't have to be so obvious about it XD

That flirtatious contract-signing procedure with Wen Xiao, and Zhu Yan calling Yichen 'better than a dog', and Wen Xiao calling demons 'pets', and then Zhu Yan offering her to become one. I mean come on XD

"Here's some free demonic energy, so you can easily kill me later." Is this romantic or what? XD The kind of demonic romance this show seems to be excelling at. Manly healing handholding - check ✔

Also, Li Lun appears out of the darkness with the broodiness of an ex who was left behind by Zhu Yan after giving birth to the Wilderness after doing some powerful wibbly wobbly timey wimey demonic magic stuff (supposedly, he was ditched for a woman, now dead, who was supposedly killed by Li Lun, now imprisoned). And now the poor guy has to compete with yet another pretty woman and an even prettier young man.

I mean, Li Lun, brother, I get it, Zhu Yan is a babe, but killing off your ex's friends and lovers won't make him like you more, that's just not how things work. And judging by the fact that Li Lun got all chained up in some cave, he probably messed up badly. Killed the previous Bai Ze Goddess? Or did something equally un-cool.

Our gorgeous Zhu Yan is a walking and talking Red Flag, although, the kind you want to wrap around yourself and never let go. I mean, how do they manage to withstand his demonic charm? I seriously have no idea)))

Hou Minghao had a serious demonic glow-up. I loved him as a dragon in Back from the Brink (where he was equal parts cute and beautiful), but this regal demonic deity he's channeling here is just wow. Where did all that come from? And once again, it's paired with a decent amount of creepy-ish cuteness (like, it's slightly weird to call a many-thousand-year-old powerful demon lord cute, but he's also not not cute, you know what I mean? XD)

And god bless all the sponsors who made all these pretty fantasy fights possible (the post-production team, I'm looking at you). Also the quality of the picture is incredibly good - everything is so movie-like, I can't even imagine the budget that went into this. But I'm glad they had it!

The vibe of the show is so, ah XD I can't even say it's queer, but it kind of is? With a possibility of multiple polycules wherever you look (or maybe it's just me and my mind playing tricks, but I'm enjoying this to the fullest).

And the way Yichen sneezes every time someone (Zhu Yan especially) is talking about him XD So cute. Bai Jiu is hilarious - screaming like the girliest girl at every prospect of danger and fainting at the sight of dead bodies. The most believable 13-year-old in the history of cdrama)))

I'm loving all the characters so far and patiently waiting for the tragedy of the death of the previous Bai Ze goddess to fully unfold (Wen Xiao's memories hint at more upcoming drama with Zhu Yan).

[kailoraurelius]

📣📣📣 AND ANOTHER THING ABOUT SWAN, I shout into my empty room. @sun-mo0nshine reblogged my post about Swan being the baddest bitch and said they love the way Jasmine says, "Swan". And I have a headcanon about it that idk maybe y'all would like?? So here it is lol. Sorry it's monsterously long.

We all have animatics in our heads, I'm sure. Or full stage or cinema productions or whatever. We're picturing it as we listen. I have a full stage production in mine. There's a few parts that are questionably possible with today's technology, but whatever. It's entertaining and gets me through very long hours at work sometimes.

POINT IS, in my head, Swan almost never smiles. She sounds nearly bored the very first time she says her name in Survive the Night. But we know her better now! We know she was worried even then!! And all the girls are saying their names in ways that seem to match how they'd be feeling in that moment.

Cochise, vibey, positive. Shown by her share of the lyrics in the rest of the song, because she's the one that sings about Cyrus holding the crown and wanting to see what happens with Cleon.

Cowgirl, more excited and rambunctious, down for a good time. That one is simple lol.

Fox, short and fierce. She's already trying to show she's tough in the first moment of her in this. You can hear her lifting her chin when she fuckin' says it.

Cleon, the loudest and most open voice of all of them. Representing basically her whole character in her intro. She is the one that believes fully in Cyrus and is open to her dream.

Ajax, just above monotone, a little extra emphasis on the "s" sound. It feels a little darker, even snake-like for a moment. Not to say she's a snake by any means, but she is ALMOST an antagonist for her own crew throughout—questioning Swan over and over, picking the fight that ends up taking her away—and this bit of darker voice and imagery kinda hints at that to me.

Rembrandt, always saying her name in two parts, the last syllable usually leaning more toward her feelings. (For example, the first time Mercy adds herself to the Roll Call later, Rembrandt speaks after her and there is very clearly a ???? In the middle of her name and an annoyed emphasis on the T at the end, like she's thinking, "who is this bitch? It was MY turn next.") And in this first Roll Call, her voice seems to fall somewhere between Ajax and Swan's vibes. Not as worried or displeased, but in between. Which makes sense because she is the one that echoes Ajax when she openly questions the plan throughout this song.

NOW. Swan. Worried. Monotone. Mind elsewhere, on what the future is about to bring them. I do not picture her smiling in this.

In Warriors' Cypher is the first time we hear some brightness in her voice, but even then she's talking about "peace so far" and stating that she has everyone's backs if that changes. She's STILL worried, even while they're fooling around and having fun. I do picture her almost exasperatedly laughing at the others' parts or smirking at Cowgirl's line, but not full on grinning. She's still focused on her worry, but she's allowing the bit of fun. And, in If You Can Count, I do see her starting to smile as it seems like the peace is going to be a real, lasting thing.

But, as Swan later says in A Light or Somethin', everything goes wrong from then on. Cyrus, running for their lives, the Turnbull ACs trying to kill them, the track fire. In Track Fire and a Phone Call, everyone is again kinda goofing off. Blowing off steam, razzing each other. But Swan is serious and stern. "When we get there, that's when we've made it." No smiling. She's too focused on protecting her crew.

Then we get to Orphan Town and THIS is where I think Swan's first full, genuine smile would come in. Again, she's worried, she's strategizing. The Orphans are taking some convincing. Swan and Fox start their flirting, where I imagine she would have a placating smile on, at least. Then Mercy comes in.

And I think Mercy amuses Swan. I think she comes out, singing about the Orphans, saying "Witcha hand on your BCACK" and, in my head, Swan laughs, startled into amusement, then quickly hides it so Sully won't turn on her. Then Mercy turns on her.

She starts demanding Swan's vest and this is the first and only time in the album that we hear Swan sound a little dumbstruck. That "What?" absolutely sounds like 0.0 She recovers, offers to try and get Mercy one if she helps them through, and Mercy says she wants the vest off of Swan and what do we hear? A laugh. A small one, entwined with her, "No chance" but a laugh. The only amusement we hear in Swan's voice until A Light of Somethin'. So yeah, I think Swan finds Mercy ridiculous and unhinged and kinda hilarious. Still though, I don't see a full-on smile happening here.

But then everything goes sideways, Swan defends Mercy, Sully changes his mind about letting them pass, and Swan decides to blow their shit up. They start putting together the molotov and it's when Swan calls for a piece of fabric and Mercy offers it up that I see the smile happening. The line "Let's make their world a little brighter" is the brightest we've heard Swan's voice be. In my headcanon, feature film, stage adaptation, I see Swan asking for the fabric and Mercy jumping forward to offer it up and Swan, startled again into amusement and gratefulness, fully grins.

I think it goes away very quickly as she focuses on her task and puts back on her leader face, but I think that quick look is when Mercy starts falling.

Back to everything is hard and sucks for a while. Swan is busy trying to ignore Ajax and Mercy's beef and protecting her crew. Her sole focus is getting them home. Then they lose Ajax and she has to lead the cops away. Mercy goes with her and they end up alone.

Which brings us to A Light or Somethin'. We know Swan was likely freaking out inside. Her Warriors are out there somewhere and she can't help them, can only hope they're waiting for her at Union Square. Ajax is gone, Cleon is gone. So she's quiet as they walk through the tunnel, understandably. But, again, Mercy manages to amuse her. You can HEAR the amusement in her voice. She laughs, saying Mercy won't like initiation. She is playful when she says, "Well, you split from the Orphans, are you loyal?" It's a legit question, but it's said with such a lighter feel. You can tell Mercy has broken through the stern, stoic face she's been putting on for just a moment. I think this is the closest we get to another real smile before the Finale. Not the full blown grin I picture in Orphan Town, but a smile nonetheless.

And when Swan rejects Mercy, her voice drops back down to that more monotone, worried voice we're used to. Except it also has a bit of a rasp to it now. A pain. She doesn't want to be pushing Mercy away. Desperation and agitation fill the rest of the song and then it's, once again, everything sucks and we're running. They lose Fox.

And I feel like there's a smile after the kiss in Same Train Home. It definitely feels like there's a few in the Finale, when Swan says "Anyone sick of runnin", when she tells Mercy she's a Warrior, when Cleon shows up, when Swan and Mercy sing "When I am with you" together.

But I think the only full, unguarded or untinged with sadness/worry, grin is in Orphan Town. When this woman Swan doesn't even know shows up and startles her into genuine happiness she wasn't expecting to find anywhere. Much less on the run for her life.