#sometimes it really is about finding the right people!!!

[megamindsecretlair]

hey i just need something real nasty between husband and wife with mr.aaron (i say it key and peele😂😂) with some angst before the actual plot🤭

A/N: Ask and ye shall receive, beautiful.

Made You Fall For Me

Pairing: Husband!Terry Richmond x Wife!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. Cursing, teasing (fem and male receiving), PIV, oral (female receiving), Reader is able to be picked up, use of pet names, angst. Mentions of death of a loved one, trauma. All consensual. Sorry if I missed some.

Summary: It had been two weeks since the anniversary of Mike’s death and Terry still beat himself up over it. Tired of Terry not letting you in, you join him in the shower and show him that he has a life to lead right here and now with you. Story by @uniqueoutlierblog

Word Count: 5,371k

AO3 Link

A/N: Thank you so much for dealing with my hiatus. I'm stronger mentally than I have ever been. Definitely worked on myself and stopped being so hard on myself. The kind asks really helped me find my way back, so have this smutty fic as a giant thank you! Thank you so much for all your continued support! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Terry sighed as he entered the bedroom. You looked up from your phone to watch your husband. 

His tall frame moved fluidly around the space, taking off of his pants and his shirt. It was soaked through having just finished at the gym. He sat on the edge of the bed to fling off his socks and toss it in the knit hamper. 

“Hey babe,” you said. 

“Hey baby,” Terry sighed.

You stared at the back of his head as his shoulders drooped the longer he sat on the bed. He looked so…dejected. Like someone sucked the air from his tires. You leaned up and let your powder blue throw blanket fall from your shoulders.

This was the second week in a row that your husband was still in this funk. Two weeks since the anniversary of Mike’s death where it seemed like Terry relived it all over again. It started with a dream, the very moment he ran into the hospital carrying Summer. Hopped up on adrenaline, a bullet in his shoulder, and him looking for the next threat. 

Then he would slowly withdraw mentally, checking out of conversations. Floating through the motions of going to work and getting back home. You were worried that he would get into an accident but he was able to operate on auto-pilot, navigating the world just as he normally would. 

It was both sad and amazing that he was able to do so. But this wasn’t your husband. This was a guilt ridden man who sometimes realized that he had no family. You were his family, of course, but he had no living blood relative alive. Mike was his one and only connection and that was severed by hate and pride. 

“Baby, will you please talk to me?” You asked. You fiddled with the edge of your phone. He wasn’t facing you, but you were still nervous to look at his face. You didn’t know which would be worse. Hearing you and choosing not to speak or not hearing you at all because he was lost somewhere you couldn’t reach?  

“I-I’m trying,” he said. He tilted his head to the side. You longed to comfort him, hold him, console him in some way. But every time you reached out, he would stare at you as if he couldn’t feel it. Couldn’t feel you. 

You didn’t know how to help him through this. You’ve lost people, sure, but you always had enough family and friends to fall back on. You didn’t know what it was like for him and he was too stubborn to let you take some of his pain. 

You moved forward and crawled on the bed towards him. He stiffened as you got closer and you wrapped your arms around him anyway. You held on and placed your hand over his heart. It beat rapidly beneath your fingers and you inwardly sighed in relief. He was still in there. His heart still beat.

“You have to stop beating yourself up about this. He wouldn’t want you to blame yourself forever,” you said. You kissed his back and rested your cheek on his skin. He was always so warm, like your own personal fire pit. But due to the sweat, he was cold and clammy. 

“I was supposed to protect him. That was my one and only job,” Terry said. 

“You were supposed to love him. But what happened was out of your control,” you said. 

Terry sighed and stood up, breaking your embrace. He hung his head as he walked to the bathroom. The door closed decisively and you flinched from the harsh sound. The light turned on underneath the doorway. The shower turned on and you didn’t hear anything further. 

Some days you wanted to knock your husband’s teeth in. His overprotective instincts went into hyperdrive, past the point of what was healthy. He refused to think of himself and the consequence be damned. Other times, you just wanted to wrap him in a floofy blanket and never let him out of your sight. You couldn’t very well fault him for wanting to keep you safe when you were the exact same way. 

But this…it varied on when he’d be able to pull himself out of this. Sometimes you’d say or do something to bring him back. Sometimes he’d take a deep breath and release that dark cloud. And sometimes, he’d disappear for a whole day and return back to the sweet, loving man you married. 

But fuck this. You missed your husband. And you were tired of seeing him walk around like a zombie. You got out of bed and headed straight to the bathroom.

Steam rushed out and passed over your exposed skin. You closed the door behind you and noted the discarded underwear on the floor and a red towel on the edge of the sink. Terry’s silhouette moved just behind the foggy glass doors. 

You quickly stripped, flinging your lavender sleep set to the ground with his briefs. You stuffed your bonnet beneath a shower cap and slid the glass doors back. Terry looked over his shoulder at you and you entered the spacious shower behind him. 

The custom shower with tiles painted in different shades of brown was roomy enough for about three people comfortably if they were all intimate. Water cascaded down from a waterfall shower head, pouring down over Terry’s strong body. Water dripped from the edge of his wide nose, his full lips, and his well-defined chest. You followed the trail of water down his belly and over his long, thick dick. Water fell down in his long legs and huge feet. 

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“I’m taking a shower,” you said. You shoved past him and grabbed your wash cloth, pulling it under the spray of water to get it wet. 

Terry huffed. “Had to be now?” He asked.

“Yup,” you said, popping the ‘P��. Instead of grabbing your favorite soap, you grabbed his and lathered up the wash cloth. 

“C’mon,” Terry said. He tugged on your arm for you to turn around. 

You did so and slapped the wash cloth against his chest. “I miss you,” you said, cutting off whatever he was about to say. He closed his mouth and grimaced, jaw flexing. 

You flattened both of your hands against his chest and stepped closer. Water hit your back at a lukewarm temperature. You had no clue how he could shower like this but that wasn’t the point. “I miss my husband and I need you to come back, right now,” you said. 

Terry closed his eyes and his long eyelashes fanned across his cheeks. His mouth worked like he wanted to say something but the words never came. Whatever he wanted to say lodged in his throat and he couldn’t choke it out.

“So after this shower, you better step out of it and remember that you did everything right for Mike. And he made his own choices. That’s not your fault. It has never been your fault. And it’s time you accept that,” you said. 

You moved the wash cloth over his skin, scrubbing him down. Soap transferred to his body in thick suds, falling down his skin. He watched you and shut his mouth as you scrubbed him all over his chest and moved on to his arms. 

His eyes never left yours as you massaged the cloth between his fingers. He sighed and hummed as you found tense spots. You rubbed him deeper in those areas, working out the tension. 

You maneuvered behind him so he could rinse and then washed his back, creating big circles of soap. You moved down to his ass, teasing him a bit. He grunted and then chuckled. Well, that was a good sign. If he was chuckling then at least he was starting to relax. 

You washed down his legs, tickling him in areas. He danced out of your way and you warned him to be careful in this slippery ass shower.

“If you die, I’ll bring you back and kill you again,” you warned.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said and smirked. 

You worked your way back to his front. His dick twitched and bobbed in your face. You looked up at him and his head was tilted to the side as he looked down at you. Fuck, he was pretty like this. Above you, staring at you, and in all his naked glory.

He needed to walk around like this more often. For your eyes only. That beautiful male body needed to be on display 24/7. 

You looked at his dick and then slowly dragged your eyes up his body and back to his striking ocean eyes. He took in a deep breath as his mouth curved upward. The rise and fall of his chest had an answering throb in your clit. You dropped to your knees on the hard flooring but it barely registered in your mind. 

Your husband worked his way back to you in the best way you both knew how. Sex was everything to the both of you. The one way you knew you were on solid ground. From the moment you two met, it had been electric and consuming. Always finding ways to touch each other or be near each other and breathe each other’s air. 

You dragged the wash cloth over his dick. At the first press of your hand, he hissed and jerked his hips towards you. You steadied your left hand on his hip and then stroked him with your right. 

He lifted his head towards the showerhead and let the water run down his face. Since he leaned back, water fell on top of your head and face but you kept looking towards him and the look on his face. 

He was hands down the most beautiful man you had ever met. And the kindest. He wasn’t always nice. He had more than enough words to say about folks that crossed him. But he was always kind, always treated people with respect. And he was a gentleman on top of it. Always opened your doors, always stood on the side of the street closest to danger. Every day, you found new ways to fall in love with your man. You only wished he’d forgive himself. 

“I love you. And I miss you. I need you to come back,” you told him. You increased the pressure, giving him long, slow strokes. All the way down to his base, squeezed, and then worked your way back to his tip. 

He groaned and rolled his neck, moving his hips. Your pussy throbbed seeing cum leak from his tip. He leaned one hand on the side of the shower, fingers pushing into the grooves. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. “I’m sorry.” 

“You have to let me in when things get dark, Terry. I don’t like feeling like I’m on the outside,” you told him.

Terry nodded his head and his eyes turned darker. But he didn’t look so far away now. His eyes were clearer, more present. “I hate feeling like I failed,” he said. His jaw flexed and you matched him stare for stare. 

“You did everything you possibly could. You deserve a life too. Not to punish yourself for the life Mike doesn’t have,” you said. You paused stroking and let the sound of the shower fill the room. 

Steam rose to the ceiling in wispy clouds. Soap and water rushed down Terry’s body. His chest rose and fell in heaving sighs but then evened out. Once his breathing returned to normal, you began stroking him again.

He groaned and dropped his head as you increased your strokes. You watched his face and watched the emotions play across his features. His lush lips parted and he moaned, deeply and guttural. “I’m gonna bust,” he moaned.

“Give it to me,” you whispered, just loud enough to be heard above the spray of water. You kept your same pace and three strokes later, Terry’s dick throbbed and his cum splashed onto your neck and titties. 

Terry’s moans were sweet music to your ears. You grinned evilly and kept stroking. He jerked and stuttered with chuckles and reached out to still your hands. He huffed and chuckled, giving you a saucy wink. 

He pulled you up by your arms and crushed his lips to yours as soon as you were within reach. He grabbed the cloth from your hands and hung it on the lip of the shower door. He cupped your neck in both hands and angled your face to meet his rough kisses. You moaned into his mouth. You missed this. You missed him. So damn badly.

The ache in your chest finally lifted now that your man was back. He healed and soothed with every kiss, every swipe of his tongue, every caress of his thumb on your wet skin. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he harshly whispered between kisses. 

“It’s okay,” you whispered back.

Terry pulled back and looked into your eyes. He narrowed his and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “I will call and get help later today. There’s no excuse for how I’ve been acting. You deserve better from me,” he said.

You tilted your head and kissed his wrist. “I do. But I also know we’re in this for life. So I need you to let me in more,” you said.

Terry nodded. “I promise. Thank you, for sticking with me through this shit,” he said.

“That’s what wives are for,” you said with a giggle. 

Terry took a deep breath and then a mischievous gleam made his hazel eyes twinkle. A smirk curved his lips and he began to massage your neck. You hummed and your eyes drooped. “Husbands are for protecting you and taking care of you, right?” He asked.

“Yes,” you said slowly, eyeing him. He was up to something…

Terry flipped you around and pressed your chest against the glass shower doors. You cried out from the sudden cold on your nipples as he pushed until your titties flattened against the doors. He kicked your legs wider to spread for him and your body shivered from his casual roughness. 

“T-Terry,” you sighed. 

Terry locked your arms behind you, hooking his arm around your elbows so that you were unable to move. Terry licked the shell of your ear and you shuddered. He slipped his free hand around your throat to pull your neck back and rest your head on his shoulder. 

“I’m gonna make up for my bullshit,” he promised with heat laced through every syllable. 

“Terry, you don’t–”

Terry cut you off by moving his hand from your neck to his dick. He ran the tip through your dripping folds and then plunged inside with a rough thrust. “Oh shit!” You cried out, twisting your hands to try and slow him down. But because he had your arms trapped, you had no choice but to take his dick.

He angled your hips into a more comfortable position and then he slipped his hand back around your throat. He grunted with every deep thrust, filling you up, and making you take it. 

“Too much, too much,” you whined, trying to lean away from him. Terry pushed into you harder, pinning you to the door, while he continued to fuck you. Your forehead leaned on the doors and your breath fogged up the glass with your moans and sighs. 

“You can take it, baby,” he said, sinking you deeper and harder onto his length. He kissed your neck, licked and nibbled in areas, and moved upwards to your ear. “I love you so much. And I know I’ve been an ass. I haven’t been fair to you,” he whispered in your ear while he continued to dig into your guts.

You weren’t quite prepared for him to be so sweet and so nasty all at once. He gave you no time to fully hear his message or fully focus on his dick inside you so you were stuck in a twisted limbo. Suspended between absolute pleasure and your heart swelling with emotions. 

“That ends today, okay? I’ll prove that I’ll do better,” he said. He grunted and cursed under his breath. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” you moaned. 

“That’s my job as your husband. And it’s a job I take seriously,” he said. He smiled against your neck and then pulled you into a rough kiss over your shoulder. Your lips danced and played with each other as your orgasm rushed to the surface. 

You began to cry and stutter as it washed over you. Terry moaned as you squeezed around his dick. “Fuck, that’s it,” he panted into your ear. 

When you came down, Terry let your arms go. He slipped out with a grunt and stepped back. You missed the heat of him instantly. He rubbed the feeling back into your arms from having them bent back for so long. He grabbed the discarded wash cloth from the top of the shower and rinsed it out.

He lathered up with his soap and then carefully washed down your back and your ass. His finger slipped between your cheeks to tease as he washed you down and you giggled with him. 

Terry turned you around and washed down your front. Washed the cum from your chest that didn’t rinse off from the water. You smiled at each other, finding your way back with every swipe of the cloth across your titties, your tummy, and down your thighs. He ran the cloth between your legs, careful not to get soap in between, and you moaned just from having his hands on you again.

His lips on yours. His eyes seeing you again after weeks of zoning out. Hints of your husband poked through that barrier he erected and now you were let in behind the wall. You grinned at him and leaned on your toes for a kiss. 

The kiss was meant to be innocent and sweet, just something to show that you loved him. That you were there and never letting him disappear again. But Terry kissed you deeper, grabbing you about the neck once more and crushed his lips to yours. 

His tongue slipped inside and then he gently nibbled on your bottom lip with his teeth. “Terry,” you sighed. Your stomach flipped with desire. Pussy throbbing. Once wasn’t nearly enough. 

“I know,” he said. He lifted your chin and brought you in for a sweet kiss. He deepened the kiss even as he maneuvered you towards the shower wall. He lifted you by the ass to wrap your legs around his hips. 

“Fuck,” you cried out. It never ceased to amaze you that he was so strong. He worked hard in the gym to take care of himself but also to lift every pound you had. He lifted without effort, without strain, and grinned when he caught the look on your face. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Terry said. He stared into your eyes as he pushed back into you. Back into your warm, wet heat and you both groaned as he pushed in slowly, all the way down to the base. 

Your nails dug into his back and shoulders, clutching on for dear life. He was huge and thick. Long. He pulled back and then sank in once more, repeating this over and over to make you feel every last inch of him. Feel his mushroom head push against your soft, spongy walls welcoming him in. 

Your mouth dropped open, needing to release something. A cry, a moan, a word. Nothing came as he stroked into you, increasing with each one. Soon, he was slamming into you. His wet, loud strokes echoed in the tiled shower and your cries soon joined it. 

“You feelin’ me?” He asked. 

You nodded. You adjusted your arms around his neck and he dropped his forehead to yours. 

“Look at me,” he whispered. You locked your eyes with him and it somehow made his strokes even more intense. He throbbed inside you. 

“You feel me. Right here and now. I’m not going anywhere. I’m never going away again,” he moaned while he stroked. 

“Terry,” you sniffled. 

Fuck, this was all you ever wanted. You didn’t need him to be perfect. You didn’t need him to be a textbook definition of a husband. You just wanted him present and with you. Sharing his pain and his joys. Sickness and health. Better and worse. Those were the vows you swore before a room full of your close friends and family. 

“I feel you. I feel you right here,” you promised. 

Terry switched up his strokes, getting deeper than before and bottoming out. You both groaned and threw your heads back, getting lost in the sensation of him filling you up. Connecting the both of you. As close as you could possibly be to another human being. 

Terry leaned down and kissed you, playing with your lips, even as his hips slammed into you over and over. Pressure built in your belly, making your thighs quake and your arms tremble. “Terry, please, I can’t,” you begged. It was too much. It felt like you were out of control, out of your norm, unrooted. 

Terry only continued exactly what he was doing. “You’re taking me so well, baby. You can keep going,” he said. 

Your eyes swam and your vision turned blurry as you clung to him and came undone on his dick again. Your cries were loud enough to echo and bounce off of the tiled walls and ceiling, giving you a feedback loop of your own pleasure. It amplified your orgasm and you shut your eyes and surrendered to the overwhelming feeling. 

Terry kissed you all over your face, neck, and shoulders. He pumped you into you until his own hips stuttered and shot loads of thick cum into your pussy. You whined and shivered as he fucked his cum deeper and deeper. 

He slowed to a gradual stop and you stayed connected like that while you both recovered. Water still pelted the both of you and you kissed on each other, soaking up the moment. Terry leaned over and turned off the water, still holding you.

He smiled and kissed your lips. He nuzzled your nose. “Missed this,” he said.

“Me too,” you said. You kissed his cheek. 

Terry carefully stepped out of the shower with you still wrapped around him like a spider monkey. You were glad. Because now that you had him back, you weren’t ready to let him go. As if you would keep him here with you by sheer force of will. 

He moved the towel from the edge of the sink and placed you down, slipping out of you. You kissed and loved on each other while he dried the both of you off. Greedy for more, you reached between you to play with his heavy balls. 

Terry groaned and tilted his head down at you. “You sure you wanna do that?” He asked.

You continued fondling his balls, rubbing them between your fingers, and making him moan. His hips canted towards yours and you bit your lip, needing him back inside. Two orgasms weren’t enough. No number would satisfy you. 

“It’s been too long,” you pouted and looked at him. 

He chuckled and kissed you, taking possession of your poked out lip. He suckled on it and you moaned, feeling your pussy respond and ache from just this small action. 

“Get that sexy ass on our bed. Let me clean up in here and I’ll take care of that,” he said. 

You pouted again and whined but he bit your lip. “Now.” He deepened his voice and arched a perfect eyebrow at you. 

You rolled your eyes and his eyebrow lifted higher. You grinned and hopped off the sink. While being punished for your attitude would be fun, you just wanted him right now. No extras, no games. You wanted to enjoy him and enjoy his body. 

He smacked your ass as you walked out and he chuckled after you shrieked and hid your ass behind your hands. You skipped to your bedroom and laid down on your bed. Cool air blew across your damp skin but it wasn’t freezing or uncomfortable.

The temperature was just right to make you hyper aware of your body. Of the feel of your skin and the thorough fucking Terry just gave you. Your pussy was still sensitive but you couldn’t resist teasing your clit. You ran your other hand along your skin, your belly, and your titties. Squeezing your nipple between your fingers and moaning from the dual sensations. 

“Terry…” you called out, drawing out his name. If he didn’t get in here soon, you were about to take matters into your own hands. 

The afternoon sun was setting low, rich oranges and golds slanting through your curtains and casting a warm glow about your room. Most days, you hated that your place faced east and west, but on lazy days like today, it was perfect. 

Terry moved about the bathroom, you had no clue what he was doing. So you closed your eyes and continued to play with yourself. You grew wetter by the second, your mind filling in with images of Terry’s broad chest. His narrow hips. That monster he had between his legs and the unbridled pleasure he managed to provide every single time. 

God, you loved that man. In every which way you were able to get him. You didn’t have the words to convey it but you’d spend the rest of your life trying to find them. 

You moaned as your imagination took over. Replaying what happened in the shower, the look on his face, the fire in his hazel eyes. You sighed as Terry entered the room.

“Oh, you bold,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. 

You didn’t stop though. You spread your legs further and shifted on the bed so that he could get a clearer view. “All warmed up for you,” you teased. 

Terry’s eyes dropped to the core of you, at the way you held your pussy lips open. Your other hand teased around your clit in figure eights, dipping into your pussy every so often to gather up more essence. 

Terry’s tongue swiped out to lick from one side to the other. Your fingers lost their rhythm. “Keep going,” he commanded. 

You whined and started up again but you couldn’t think straight. Not with him leaning against the wall looking at you like you were a five course meal and he was a starving man. When you just couldn’t find that spot again, Terry smirked and walked closer.

“What happened?” He asked.

“You,” you said. 

Terry smirked and took his time kneeling at the edge of the bed. He grabbed your thighs and pressed his thumbs to your inner thighs, massaging them. “Fuck,” you moaned and twisted, trying to close your legs and trap his hands there.

“Naw. Open back up. That’s what you get for trying to handle it yourself,” he said. 

“It’s been too long since I’ve seen you,” you said and smirked. Terry lifted an eyebrow but his eyes were still on your throbbing pussy. He had to see how you were clenching around nothing. Clenching and reaching for him. 

He leaned down and kissed your clit. He retreated too quickly for your blood and you whined, pushing your hips back towards his face. 

“I’m still apologizing so I won’t make you beg this time,” he said. Without further ado, he dragged his pink, juicy lips through your folds, hunting for your clit. His tongue darted out and teased, dragging the tip through your folds. His tongue was warm as it flattened against your clit and he licked.

“Fuck!” You screamed out. 

Terry smiled between your legs before getting down to business. He suckled and licked and nibbled while he feasted on your pussy. Your pussy throbbed and ached while he slurped up your essence noisily. 

“Fuck, baby. Right there,” you moaned.

Terry locked in to the spot and swirled his tongue around in tight circles. You clutched to the covers, nails digging in for dear life as you twisted and jerked. You reached down to grab onto the back of his head and push his head deeper. 

Terry placed his hands to your thighs and pinned them to the bed while he ate you out, never stopping for breath. He just ate like a man possessed until you were twitching and crying out on his tongue, reaching your climax in record time.

Terry continued to eat you out through it, whispering into your pussy how perfect and sexy you were. How much he had to make up for. Your throat was scratched raw from all the moaning you were doing, too spent to respond. To tell him that he didn’t have a damn thing to make up for. His pain was valid and he had a right to see it through, but he had to see it through. Not just disappear into his head.

None of that came through. Your vision swam as you looked at the popcorn ceiling, too blissed out to form a coherent sentence. Terry replaced the view of the ceiling, leaning down on his fists, as he smirked at you.

“Still with me?” He asked.

“Always,” you sighed. 

He chuckled as he climbed onto the bed. It dipped beneath his weight, jostling you a bit. His knees pushed your legs on top of his thighs. His eyes sparkled as he slipped into you, meeting no resistance from your pussy.

“Shit,” you grunted. You pushed feebly at his chest. Not necessarily to make him stop, but fuck, you needed time to recover. Time to catch your breath. He stole the motherfucker, the least he could do was let you gain it back.

“Nothing feels better than this,” he said. He sank deeper into you, making you curl into him and squeeze his hips with your legs. He grabbed both of your hands and pinned them above your head, poking your chest out for his lips to capture your nipples.

He suckled on them, going back and forth between the two, while he fucked into you lazily. Unhurried. Like he managed to pause time long enough to focus on delivering you pleasure. His eyes found yours and he smiled, his dazzling grin turning you stupid and pliant.

He groaned as he felt your body relax and he dug into you, harder, deeper, faster. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you,” you moaned.

“Cum with me, baby,” he said.

You whined and focused on cumming with him like he said. You could feel him throbbing inside you, close, oh so close. You panted, sweating, legs trembling, back bowing. He leaned to one side so that he could slip his free hand between your legs to play with your clit.

Your moans increased to a near panic as your orgasm came running at his beck and call. You cried out and your squeezing pussy milked him. He moaned and dropped his head as he spilled into you over and over, his body trembling from the force. 

He kissed your cheek but you otherwise laid there and enjoyed the feeling of him crushing you to the bed. Who needed oxygen anyway?

Your stomach rumbled, breaking the beautiful silence after such a powerful moment. You both laughed as it rumbled again. Terry released your hands and you covered your tummy. He pushed your hands away with his chin and then kissed your belly. 

“We’re gonna need another shower and then I need to feed my wife,” he said.

“Feed your wife or feed your wife?” You asked, waggling your eyebrows. You were spent and tired but you could find another round in you for him. Always for him. 

“Both, nasty ass,” he said. He stood up and then pulled you with him to stand as well. He gave you a sweet, tender kiss and promised over and over with both his tongue and his actions that he would become a man worthy of your love. 

The end.

I love you all. The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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[xhda1449x]

okay so I have Opinions TM about this because. well. am asexual. know asexual people. Been Like That before.

I had a friend. She's not my friend anymore. One of the reasons why is that she was a very sex negative asexual. Not repulsed, negative. Sex negative means Against It As A Concept. Repulsed means "ew, I really don't want to hear about any of it and I'm kinda disgusted by the way sexual attraction seems to run the world but yknow, that's me, y'all do you", right. It's a different thing. Some aces don't understand that.

I've known aces who think it's the identity for sex negativity. Aces who are attracted to people in an allo way (!!!) but think sex is gross. The friend I had was like that. Afaik she just... hated men so much she decided that wanting sex with women As A Guy is disgusting behavior so all sex is like that. Because she'd only use the "sex repulsed" card when interacting with guys. Because she was a lesbian and identified as such. Now yeah there are ace lesbians. I've also known a few of those. But that's not the point, the point is that so many people who don't want to have conventional PiV sex find the ace label and think it's for them.

Now uhhh my personal experience with the sex negativity excused as being sex repulsed mindset. So I have ocd. something most people around me know about. Over the years of Me Having It (so like... since I was 8 ig) it manifested in different ways. One of the most annoying intrusive thoughts I'd dealt with was just... my friends, my family members, in sexual situations. Not with me, just kinda... abstract, I guess, but one time I had a wholeass flashback because my friend told me he did indeed sleep with his girlfriend regularly so that's something. It's not really fun, imagining your two platonic-and-nothing-else friends Having Sex In Your Head and not being able to stop it. Also yeahhh the trauma def played a role too. Like, that's most likely what triggered me to Have OCD in the first place, and it took me a long time to get over that (mostly because I couldn't really tell anyone about it. I'm not gonna get into details but let's just say people don't really like to think that a young girl could hurt someone like that).

So now I'm in a relationship. First I've ever had. And I had to deal with Everything by being thrown head first into it. The first year was Hard, with another aspect of the ocd (it's always the ocd) being that I'd question my identity a lot. Sure I was dating someone but I was still ace because I didn't want to have sex with them right? Sure I don't mind the thought but I'm still ace because I wouldn't do it irl? SURE I CAN IMAGINE MYSELF DOING IT IRL BUT I'M STILL ACE, RIGHT, ACES CAN HAVE SEX?????? on top of dealing with Gender Questioning, too. Fun times!!!

But uh. yeah. turns out that I needed some help processing the trauma and now I'm like... the kink-cyclopedia for my friends or something. Like the person in the tags said, it's mostly theoretical. And funny thing is I've Been Like This even when I was a teenager!!! But I both pushed it down because That's Not How Aces Are and overplayed it because I wanted my friends to like me and at the time it seemed as if their only interest was Talking About Sex (idk, teenagers can be like that sometimes, or it can feel that way if you don't relate).

Anyway, yeah. For anyone who's like this (thinking ace is the label for sexual trauma survivors; thinking you're ace because you don't want sex; thinking being ace means being above sexual desires and that somehow making you better than everyone else), I've been there. And it was miserable. I'm still ace, because guess what, I'm still not sexually attracted to anyone besides maybe my partner and even then I'm not sure. But like... the reason why puritans are miserable isn't just because they're all horny and repressed. Building your whole identity on top of Hating Something will always make you miserable. Try to avoid that if you can.

I am both.

[worlds-worst-ships]

Do you seriously, actually ship it?

Okay. Lets talk. Because apparently some of you are defending... well... "that" (under the cut)

"He's autistic! It was a stim!"

If you genuinely think that this has ANYTHING to do with autism, you are an objectively stupid person. Like, your brain is so fucking smooth, it puts the surface of freshly tempered glass to shame. You're a barely functional reprobate with subhuman intelligence who has no idea how to form thoughts so you let a 50 year old billionaire who spends too much time on his phone decide your thought process for you.

"He was throwing his heart out to the crowd!"

Now, I don't really play baseball, basketball, netball, or any sport where you throw anything other than sometimes darts, but... is that how you throw? You perfectly extend your arm at that angle? Twice? After spending years posting tweets that very much align with Nazi viewpoints? Do you throw a pitch in baseball and scream SIEG HEIL as the ball hurtles towards your opponent? No. Stop being a fucking idiot. This was deliberate. He did it twice.

"He's autistic! He doesn't know better!"

Please comment if you actually think this so I can personally call you a stupid cunt and block you. We absolutely do know better. Autism and Nazism aren't mutually exclusive.

"You're inhibiting his free speech!"

1st amendment only applies to censorship from government positions of power, which I am not, as should be obvious from the fact that I have no power to censor him. Though I shouldn't have to explain that.

"Well, he's gonna get away with it so stop being so sensitive!"

Yes. He is. But that's not a flex, that's A FUCKING MASSIVE PROBLEM. Call me sensitive if you want, but absolutely every single one of you should be offended by this. Did you pay attention in history class, or were you too tired after a long night of being fucking railed raw and bone dry by propaganda on Twitter? Moron.

"Well, he's rich and you're not, so there!"

Yep. Got me there. He's rich, and I'm not. Yknow, Hitler and a lot of Nazi officers were pretty minted too. So was Epstein, King Leopold, Stalin, Jimmy Saville, every MP currently serving in parliament... but sure, they're great people because they're rich, right?

"You're just a stupid offended libtard!"

Google "The Holocaust".

"Well, you're still using his app!"

His app? You mean the one he bought, then fucking ruined because he has no idea how to run it, right? And you because its basically impossible to find mutuals as a vtuber without it, you knew that, right? "His" app, please, you probably think Ronald McDonald makes your burger when you order McDonalds, you moron.

"If we punish Elon for this, then that's a violation of the first amendment!"

You mean like banning tiktok, removing any and all talk of election rigging, then putting it back up the next day? Or maybe like deleting any criticisms of you and your nazi salutes under your recent tweets despite it blowing up everywhere else? Or does that not count because its something you agree with? Yeah. You've been cucked harder than Sneako and you don't even realize it. Elon and his government buddies are leaving your free speech rights looking like this

Aaaaanyway

I find it well and truly laughable that so many people like Elon will say all this insane shit and do all these fucking heinous things and people will defend them. Like how that gun woman who shit herself says stuff like "I'm not homophobic, I just think gay people are disgusting and that they should die" or that comedian nobody finds funny anymore spends hours whining about trans people but says he's not transphobic.

Lets all be on the same page for once and have the balls to say what we actually think. Elon got so close, but being a spineless edgelord who doesn't have the balls to just say what he thinks out loud is quite the weakness.

[tragedy-machine]

“Edwin, do you ever think about… what it’d be like if we went to school together?”

“I cannot say that I do, Charles.”

“I do, sometimes. About how life would be like if we were both alive and attending St. Hilarion right now.”

“I assume your vision does not include any of our classmates being killers?”

“Nah, ‘course not. Times are different now, aren’t they? So… what do you think?”

“Well, you would be a star of the cricket team, no doubt. And you can certainly bounce a ball without letting it fall for a very long period of time, so maybe a football star, as well.”

“I don’t know about being a star, but– cheers.”

“Of course. Indeed, given your natural charisma, one might readily surmise that people would be most inclined to gather about you. If they possessed any sense whatsoever, your classmates should eagerly seek to make your acquaintance. You would graciously give everyone the time of day, much as you do with our clients, and they would be endlessly charmed by you. ”

“Now you’re really overdoing it, mate. What about you?”

“Me? Oh. I would… greatly delight in the study of languages. I have heard it said that schools nowadays offer a wider array of them within their curriculum. Literature, too, holds a special allure for me; indeed, I might even volunteer my services in the school library, simply for the opportunity to spend more time there or attend a study club. Science has also been a source of fascination for me—chemistry in particular, I could well imagine devoting a lot of time to it.”

“Mhmm, go on.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“What of your friends?”

“I have not considered– perhaps other members of the literature club? Our recent adventure in the States have shown me that although people are decidedly still not my forte, it is possible for me to make acquaintances with them if they share my interests. If they are not dreadfully insufferable, that is to say.”

“And…?”

“And?”

“C’mon, how do we meet?”

“Oh. Realistically, I do not think our paths would cross. You would have more than enough friends interested in sports and music and other activities you enjoy, and I would never set foot near a gymnasium or a music room. We are an unlikely pair, after all.”

“...what? You don’t think we’d be friends if we were at school together?”

“I merely mean to say— as I have mentioned— with a sufficient company of good and worthy friends around you, you would have little cause to seek me out at school, particularly as we would be spending our time entirely differently.”

“Edwin, that’s horrible. A load of tosh, if I’ve ever heard one. I refuse to believe that. We could meet in class, or– maybe I’d have trouble with English, it’s never been my favorite, could never get my letters correct, could I? And since you’re so good at it, you’d offer to tutor me.”

“You believe I would offer?”

“‘Course, you’re proper kind like that, aren’t you? Or I’d ask you and you wouldn’t be able to say no to me.”

“So certain I would not be, even right from the beginning?”

“Isn’t that how our first meeting went?”

“...touché. You can be quite persistent. However, that does not mean you would have to befriend the boy who tutors you.”

“I liked you right when I met you, didn’t I? It’d be the same.” 

“You are awfully confident regarding the matter.”

“Yeah, mate. Think about it, we may be an unlikely duo, but against all odds, we met. We stayed together. And will stay together. We’d find each other in every universe, just like we had in this one.”

“...who is the one ‘overdoing it’ now?”

“Come off it, mate! But just think about it, we’d go to uni together, you’d study– English or, or Law, you’d make a great lawyer, you know, and I– I don’t know, I’d study something too, and we’d live together.”

“Would we start a detective agency together as well?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Alive Boy Detectives does not have the same ring to it. Neither does Alive Men Detectives.”

“We’d figure something out.”

[polytropic-liar]

What can you do to prepare for ICE enforcement actions?

I keep seeing that list of potential ICE target cities being shared around, so I'm breaking my "no organizing on tumblr" rule to share some info.

Credentialing: I'm an immigration lawyer, I've worked in immigration justice organizing for approximately a decade, I lead regular Know Your Rights trainings in my community.

Disclaimer: This is not legal advice. This is information about the US immigration system, and it may not be completely accurate to your specific location or situation. I am not soliciting clients on Tumblr. Do not message me confidential information about your, or anyone else's, immigration situation. If you need help with an immigration situation, the Immigration Advocates Network has a national database you can search by your location.

So, what can you do to help prepare for the event of an ICE enforcement action that impacts your community, friends, or family?

I. Assess risk

One of the most detrimental effects of the panic propaganda (which these constant threats of ICE raids absolutely are) is that it makes every single immigrant terrified, regardless of risk level. That saps the organizing power of immigrant communities and their supporters (like lawyers). You can help mitigate that effect by helping the people in your life and your community actually assess what their risk factors for targeting by ICE might be. This guide from 2017 for assessing risk from Immigrant Defense Project is a little dated at this point, but the basic information should be a good starting point.

Sometimes a risk assessment can help someone actually address some risk factors, like filing a renewal application, fixing their compliance with terms of their release before their parole is revoked, getting a lawyer to re-open their order of removal, or getting a criminal conviction mitigated/overturned. Even if it can't, it can help people have a more accurate picture of what their risk is, which people deserve to understand and to plan around.

II. Develop an emergency response plan

For people who are at risk of ICE arrest, detention, and potentially deportation, planning beforehand can make a huge difference. Immigrant Defense Project's guide to emergency preparedness is a great place to start. (Note: some of their linked resources are New York-specific. You may need to find ones for your state.)

If you're wondering how you can help the people you care about who are at risk, offer to play a role in their emergency plan. A great role for people who are fluent in English and familiar with US systems and structures is helping track someone through the detention system, and maintaining communications between them and their lawyer and outside community.

III. Prepare to document

Rapid response hotlines exist in all of the major cities on that list of potential targets. If they're not holding rapid response trainings right now, be patient: they probably will soon. Rapid response is often not about preventing an ICE enforcement action, it's about documenting it. It sucks that we often can't respond by stopping them from causing harm, but documentation provides leverage and opportunities for the people detained and for the community groups to use against ICE, which can win material victories, up to and including getting them to drop a deportation case and let someone go.

Do you film the police in your community, or otherwise document their actions? Documenting ICE works very similarly, they're just there less often and harder to identify. That means that you can train to document ICE by working with your local copwatch group. Learn how to generate good records, follow the local laws, store things securely, and connect with the people who can best use the data.

IV. Re-distribute resources

You know what really helps someone not get detained by ICE? Having the resources to avoid contact with them and with the criminal justice system. The most impactful detention prevention you can do with someone is to help them get their taillight fixed, secure a lease, pay for daycare for their kids, etc. Get people the money, access, and services they need to keep themselves safe! Do it now, and regularly: don't wait for someone to have an encounter that puts them on ICE's radar.

Can't afford to re-distribute resources directly? Most major cities in the US have "accompaniment" networks, where you can sign up to drive folks to get their licenses, and go with to the doctor, and help figure out how to get kids enrolled in school. This everyday, non-glamorous work is the most effective, meaningful, and useful thing you can do to help right now.

V. Collate and vet information

This isn't just about making sure what you share is verified (though it's significantly about that! I know the lure of chisme is so strong but please resist. Now more than ever, we have to take personal responsibility for not spreading misinformation!). It's also about something you, as a person reading this on the internet who therefore knows how to use at least one website, can do to be of service to the overwhelmed, scared, pissed off, and scrambling immigration justice groups right now. Find your local one, and ask: "Hey do you need more people finding news about immigration, checking it for reliability, and delivering it to you in one coordinated, easily-accessed place so you can decide how to disseminate it?" Not everyone needs that right now. But the ones who do will cry with gratitude. This is a particularly good role for folks who may have been feeling like their mobility or physical health meant they couldn't do anything to help against ICE--your skills are needed right now too, I promise.

Last note: I'm not going to tell you to calm down. It's reasonable and rational to be scared, and upset, and angry right now. But what I will say is: when the fear and outrage fade, the work won't end. I work with people who have been responding to ICE/INS actions for 40 years. A lot of this may feel brand new and terrifying to you, but to many of us, this is a familiar and known enemy that we spend our whole lives fighting.

It being familiar doesn't make it okay, or acceptable: it should all burn. But the organizing infrastructure to respond to this is here already. We're not helpless or surprised about what's happening, because we prepare for it every day. We're ready to fold you in with open arms whenever you want.

[iratarkon]

if you're living out of your car, keep your car clean and move it periodically--people are less likely to call in reports and try to get rid of you

if you set up a camp, keep watch for eviction or similar signs. These will look different in different jurisdictions but authorities are required by law to give you warning. If they go up, leave. Do it before the cops get there--if they show up they will confiscate all your stuff and probably throw it away. At least where I live they're within their legal rights to do this as soon as the eviction warning period passes and there's nothing nicer cops or city workers or even lawyers can do about it.

on that note, city workers are 99% of the time nicer than the cops, and they can sometimes have an influence on when those signs go up. Don't be a dick to them. If they're on site at the same time the cops are though, they don't have any power that day.

don't cut trees in parks. That's a really really good way to summon eviction signs to your camp. Authorities hate that.

on the subject of things that summon unhappy authority figures to make your life miserable, don't leave big piles of trash. find the nearest public trash can or dumpster and put it there. This is actually a really drastic improvement on reducing negative attention per effort.

your city likely has resources specifically for homeless people. Look up outreach centers and see what they have to offer in your area

What to do if you suddenly find yourself homeless

FOOD

Find your nearest food bank or mission, for food

grocery stores with free samples, bakeries + stores with day-old bread

different fast food outlets have cheaper food and will generally let you hang out for a while.

some dollar stores carry food like cans of beans or fruit

SHELTER

Sleeping at beaches during the day is a good way to avoid suspicion and harassment

sleep with your bag strapped to you, so someone can’t steal it

Some churches offer short term residence

Find your nearest homeless shelter

Look for places that are open to the public

A large dumpster near a wall can often be moved so that flipping up the lids creates an angled shelter to stay dry

HYGIENE

A membership to the YMCA is usually only 10$, which has a shower, and sometimes laundry machines and lockers.

Public libraries have bathrooms you can use

Dollar stores carry low-end soaps and deodorant etc.

Wet wipes are all purpose and a life saver

Local beaches, go for a quick swim

Some truck stops have showers you can pay for

Staying clean is the best way to prevent disease, and potentially get a job to get back on your feet

Pack 7 pairs of socks/undies, 2 outfits, and one hooded rain jacket

OTHER

first aid kit

 sunscreen

 a travel alarm clock or watch

 mylar emergency blanket

 a backpack is a must

 downgrade your cellphone to a pay as you go with top-up cards

 sleeping bag

 travel kit of toothbrush, hair brush/comb, mirror

 swiss army knife

 can opener

[absolutelynotsanebaby]

I looove thinking about where Cole’s traits of anxiety and being so hard on himself came from. Obviously sometimes it genetic but there’s things in his life that could be factors. Namely one is he’s always seemed to carry some strong internal sense of justice. In the flashback scene in motm with Lilly he describes the reason why he got into a fight with another kid being because the other kid was a bully. A trait like that can and does lead to people fixating on their ability to do what they think is right, which he consistently shows he does fixate on. Another thing to note is that he grew up with a combination of a very clearly heroic mother who imprinted her morals and expectations onto him(to be clear, not a bad thing) and then a father who expected too much with too harsh of an attitude. That being expecting Cole to be able to master a dance technique not even grown men could, and when we see him train the ninja in Cole’s true potential episode he’s very harsh with his reprimands and directions. Even the doorbell scene, where he slams the door shut and keeps it shut until Cole does what he believes is the correct way to announce his presence.

It’s also worth noting having a chronically ill and then terminally ill mother throughout childhood is a source of consistent stress, especially on a child’s brain and with the effects it can cause later. Then of course being left alone with his grief as a young teenager because his father became absent in his own grief has it’s own set of effects regarding trust, self esteem, and coping skills with anxiety.

Speaking of coping skills, I find Cole’s specific methods so interesting. He seems to go through this pattern of an initial conflict appearing (his father, ghost-hood and fading, struggling to live up to his mother in MOTM), trying overly hard to not let it affect him / deal with it alone, and then crashing and giving up when he can’t (which he seems to conceptualize as an inherent failure on his part, rather than a failure of support). This ‘giving up’ can also come with a running away or distancing from his loved ones which I think is one part shame and one part being overwhelmed (<- I really think he projects his own ideas of how he should deal with things alone and some kind of Responsibility Complex onto other people and how he thinks they see him) (<- which leads to occasional resentment).

[tarraxahum]

This was gonna be a reply to a reply but I thought maybe I should just make my own post. Yes this is about Vi again.

It's no secret that "Vi should've fought for Zaun" and the expectation of her being Vander's prodigy and feeling like the plot dropped the ball on her in that regard and the betrayal at the fact that she's living comfortably in Piltover now are. Frequent sentiments in the fandom. Which I get, but also I feel that this line of expectations is. Diverging from who Vi actually is by the end and what she was realistically capable of.

Vi in season 2 is basically running on fumes and because she has no other options. It is a well known thing in irl activist spaces that to participate in any kind of fight for justice you need to take care of yourself, otherwise you won't have the energy to be any kind of useful to your community. Ekko also says this - "It's not enough to give people what they need to survive, you have to give them what they need to live". Vi has been surviving and not living in any shape or form for years, she's exhausted and broken in places. That's no mental state to fight for Zaun or make any kinda change. I think it's extremely realistic and human and hardly a flaw of writing or the character if by the end the only thing she was able to do was collapse into the safety and peace she was offered for the first time in forever (aka Caitlyn). It's clear that in her last scene she's still recovering mentally - Cait seems to be excited to have any sign of life (singing) from her at all, and the "Are you still in this fight?" question is very loaded. (But it's indicated that Vi is very much still in the fight, so? It's really anyone's guess what she'll do once she's healed and remembers how to live. And don't bring up LoL's Vi brutality thing, it's clear they're different characters).

I think in wanting to see Vi stand up for Zaun or be Vander's prodigy we often deny her the flaw of being a breakable human and forget just how much she's held together by duct tape. Just because she was full of this 'fuck Piltover' fire as a kid doesn't mean she is still capable of matching that energy. Sometimes after lots of trauma humans grow up into tired adults who just want to sit down and feel safe regardless of where it happens and how questionable it might look (re: living in Piltover). Not to mention, that even as a child Vi's main reason for fuming at the Topside was wanting safety for her family and herself. Well, now she's all out of family, she's estranged from the community of Zaun thanks to being in prison for 7 years and Silco changing the place so much, and the only person who's offering her safety and not more fighting (which she's exhausted and thoroughly burnt out from!) is Caitlyn, so. How is where she ended up any kind of surprising or a failure of her writing/character?

Yes, a lot of people wanted a revolutionary, no, Vi isn't one. Dare I say, never really was one. At her lowest, when she's got no one left to protect, she's not trying to fill in that void by taking on protecting Zaun and becoming a vigilante or something, no, she spirals. That is not something on her radar, that's not something she's visibly cut out to do, she cares so so much but on a smaller scale. Even the whole shimmer factory debacle was less about Zaun and more about her desire to hurt Silco personally for what he'd done to her family. If Jinx agreed to run away with her back at the tea party Vi would ditch the entirety of Zaun (potentially leaving it to Silco forever since he's still alive at that point) in a heartbeat to keep her sister and save Cait in one move. She puts on an enforcer uniform BECAUSE she cares for Jinx (through convincing herself that at the very least she should take her out of her misery herself rather than leaving it to people who don't care, yes) and Cait both.

Perhaps a hot take, but not becoming a leader despite being good at taking hits to the head and caring about people in general and being a daughter of one does not make Vi a badly written character or a bad person. It just makes her a person. And a character whose arc culminated in choosing herself. And choosing yourself sometimes means leaving the fight to others (perhaps temporarily, considering the final dialogue). And that's okay.

Arcane is tragedy about flawed people, not a feel-good story about a successful revolution and rich people paying for their crap, and it was never going to be. Ergo one of our main character isn't an upcoming hero in shining armor who was allegedly robbed of her potential. She's just a broken young woman who barely knows how to keep her own little life together and her biggest victory by the end is allowing herself to take a breath and live for once. Yes, while her home down there is still in shambles. Yes, that sounds selfish. For some people a bit of selfishness is the greatest thing they can ever learn for themselves.

[onceinablueberrymoon]

made for this | husband!salesman x pregnant!reader

scenario: pregnant!reader has a doctor’s appointment and wants to help husband!salesman by recruiting some new players at the clinic. the salesman has a different idea in mind… setting: a couple months after the events of season 1; sequel to this but can be read as a stand-alone fic warnings: pregnant!reader; a bit of spice and a lot of fluff; both reader and salesman feel morally superior to others; no use of y/n; second person POV word count: 931 notes: thank you all for the love on the first part! i hope i didn’t make the salesman too ooc, i try to keep things as accurate to the show as possible! but i think he is somewhat capable of having soft moments, although very rarely. i have at least one more idea for this series (if it can even be called that), so be on the lookout for that ٩>ᴗ<)و (also if anyone has any ideas for this ship, send them my way!) please enjoy! borders by @strangergraphics-archive

“Hey, can I borrow some business cards? I have an appointment at the clinic today and thought I’d pass some out.”

At your call, your husband walked into the bedroom to find you standing in front of the mirror next to your shared bed, adjusting your outfit for the day. He crossed his arms.

“I don’t think so. Any public involvement with the Games could endanger you,” his gaze lingered on your swollen stomach. He sighed, “You can’t defend yourself in your condition, no matter how much you think you can.” 

You just rolled your eyes and shot him a piercing look. 

“My pregnancy doesn’t impact my job, though. I can take care of myself just fine.” You took a couple steps towards him. “Who’s the one who befriended Gi-hun again? You?” You looked around the room before you pointed at yourself. 

“Me, that’s who,” you grinned proudly, only for your husband to cover his face with his hands, his patience clearly running thin.

“Besides,” you shrugged, “it’s not like I’ll be playing ddakji and smacking people. No, my dear husband, that’s your thing.” You brought a finger up to your lips. 

“I have my own ways to play.” You flashed a wicked smile towards your husband, causing him to shiver. 

Right there and then, you knew that you had won the battle.

…or so you thought.

In the blink of an eye, your husband swept you off your feet and pinned you on the bed with only one arm. Your startled expression pleased him judging by the wild look on his face. His unoccupied hand came to gently press on your growing stomach, adding to the tense situation. He brought his lips up to graze your ear.

“See how vulnerable you are? Just think,” he lightly bit at your helix, “others won’t be so nice.”

It was your turn to shiver. 

When you didn’t respond, he continued nibbling at your ear with his hand still firmly planted on your belly.

Soon after, he lifted his head and asked, “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” He kissed you deeply, only breaking away to gasp for air. The most smug expression was plastered on his face. 

“Oh wait, I do.”

How cheeky of him. And cheesy, too! 

You huffed, “Wow, already starting with the dad jokes? And not even the good ones either.” His eyebrow quirked upwards before he bent down to press his nose against yours.

“Do you really want to play this game?” He whispered softly, causing you to shudder. “You know I always win.”

Turning your head to the right, you let out a small chuckle.

“Oh really?” You retorted, “Prove it.”

This sent him into a borderline frenzy as he started planting kisses down the side of your neck. You threw your arms around his neck, a smile on your face. Sometimes it was just too easy to manipulate him.

As he was about to leave a mark, a sharp movement stopped him in his tracks. He blinked, snapping out of his trance. You were both confused when there was another movement, although not as sharp as the first.

The two of you looked down at your rounded stomach, and your husband removed his hand. The baby’s kicks continued nearly every minute, while you both just watched, not moving a muscle. Then, your husband lifted himself up off of you, moving to sit on the bed beside you. You sat up and, taking one of his hands, gently laid it on your stomach. Your husband carefully wrapped an arm around you, now acting as if you were made of glass.

“They’re so active. Do you think,” he paused, then in a whisper, asked, “Do you think I hurt them?” 

“No… I think they’re just making themselves known,” you kissed him on the cheek. 

Both of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, only to soon realize that you were now running late for your appointment.

“Is there any chance I can still get those business cards?” You pleaded. 

Your husband chuckled, “Absolutely not. In fact, I’ll accompany you.” 

“I thought we weren’t allowed to be seen together in public?” You furrowed your eyebrows. 

He let go of you and turned to open his briefcase at the foot of the bed. Pulling out some files, he nodded, “There’s quite a few prospective players residing at that hospital. You attend your appointment, I’ll recruit more players.” He flashed his signature smirk, putting the files back in his briefcase.

“Wow, I thought you wanted to come to my appointment with me!” You laughed, giving him a light shove.

Your husband gave you a knowing look, “I can’t do that. But I expect a copy of the sonogram.” He stood up, holding out a hand for you to take.

“What a gentleman.” You took his offer and stood up.

Placing a hand on your husband’s chest, you teased, “Try to take it easy at the hospital, hm? Most of the prospects there are already on the verge of cracking. We don’t want to break them before the Games – it wouldn’t make for a good show.”

Wrapping his arms around your waist, your husband pouted, “But where’s the fun in that?”

“Giving them a tiny sliver of hope, only to eventually rip it away…” You looked him straight in the eyes. “The suspense is so thrilling, don’t you think?”

“And here I was starting to think you weren’t cut out for the job,” he chuckled. He checked his watch, noting the time.

“We should get going – it’s rude to be late.” 

a/n: by the way, i don’t think i have it in me to write full-on smut, the most i can probably do is a bit of lime lol

tags: @preppyfella

[formerarchivist]

Ah, so this is what @thelonelyfog was talking about when he said that sometimes people will just absolutely peek into your brain and call you out. Because this person is completely right.

No, I never wanted to die. But I absolutely felt like I deserved to. And I absolutely accepted it every time my death seemingly approached.

During the Prentiss attack, when Martin and I heard the banging on the wall, I was sure that was it. When Nikola kidnapped me, when Micheal came to kill me himself, I wasn't expecting to walk out the other side of that door. I followed Tim into the oblivion that was the Circus, knowing it would most likely kill me. The Apocalypse happened, and I thought "Yep, this is most definitely my fault, because I'm not dead yet"

I think I kind of knew, in a way, that I would end up dying to fix it. Taking Martin down with me was an unpleasant surprise. And honestly, it's still somewhat baffling to me that he was willing to sit there and die with me. Because he loved me that much, and I loved him. And now I'm Somewhere Else, and I can only hope he is too.

I hope he's here with me. I want to be able to find him. That's something I've been worrying about, because what if who I am now isn't the same as the me he fell in love with? What if I'm just too different now and he doesn't like me? It's an absurd train of thought, really. He was literally willing to walk through the Apocalypse to certain death with me, and he did it because he loved me, and something as simple as a reincarnation of sorts isn't going to change that. Maybe the love will be a different kind, but it'll be there.

Jon doesn't want to die. he thinks he should die, which is a feeling that's followed him since he was eight. he goes through most seasons with the air of someone who fully believes they're about to take their rightful place in the grave, and he's terrified of it. there are some attempts in s4 where he tries to convince himself that he either wants to die or thinks he shouldn't, but I don't think any of it truly sticks. everything he's lived since he was eight has been with time bought by the death of someone else. and he's going to die, it just hasn't happened yet!

then the apocalypse happens, purely because he just hadn't died yet. he should have, but he didn't!

then he meets Annabelle Cane for the last time and learns that he was, in fact, never meant to die. at least not until he does everything the web planned for him.

jon must have been so good for the end

[profoundathletecowboybanana]

Hey guys I’m feeling emo rn so have some random assorted Marvel/DC character headcanons:

Damian Wayne keeps his stress in his stomach. And he has a lot to stress about. Normally, however, he can release a good bit of stress during patrols and training, so it’s never really an issue. People think he hates getting injured/sidelined because he’s seen as weak/not training/etc, but really it’s because his body will effectively start to break down on him bc he’s too nauseous to eat or move or calm down

(Not rlly a headcanon but,) Wade Wilson still struggles with PTSD all the way back from his days in the military. He has an almost airtight raunchy, obnoxious asshole persona that is extremely effective in distracting people into forgetting about it or not caring about him enough to remember. He can never let himself relax from it because he’s scared he’ll fall into a funk he’ll never get out of. If he can play the part, he can BE the part, lest he reap the consequences. You can inflict a lot of pain on a man who can’t die

Spiderman has an addictive personality. Coupled with his atrocious coping skills, anything that could marginally be classified as a substance (coffee, alcohol, painkillers) is off the table 100%. He would never admit it, but sometimes he finds himself yearning for the slight high and perfect pain he felt from the initial spider-bite. It’s why he’s never tried to find the spider that bit him.

He had a beer at a friend’s house once and didn’t stop drinking for a month. Normally his metabolism would buzz right through it but he had been drinking so many for such a sustained period of time that he didn’t even realize it was gradually starting to build up in his system (and it was easier to function that way, with his brain turned off a little). Scared by how easy it was to get into and how much he liked it, Peter decided it was for the best if the only bottles he picked up would be for the purpose of smashing over a bad guy’s head

Clark Kent can tune out all of the sounds going on around the world. He can also tune them back in. Sometimes, in place of turning on sad music when he’s feeling down the way you and I do, he’ll tune back in to the world around him and listen to the screams of agony from people all around the world that he should be helping, and that he knows he can if he could just be Superman all the time. But he can’t quite bring himself to give up Clark Kent, and the guilt feels as though it’s going to consume him one day

Wally west is never good enough. He sets his standards to beyond what is capable, and inevitably feels himself fall short of them every time. It doesn’t matter if the people around him tell him he’s going above and beyond already. He’s seen great, unbelievable things be achieved in his time as the flash and if he can’t reach that in everything he does, as a hero, a parent, a husband, then the fastest man alive will always feel one step behind

Brucie Wayne specifically is friends with Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy. They like his style and music taste and he doesn’t care if they steal things from whatever gala he’s hosting as long as no one gets too hurt or killed. Brucie Wayne has been crafted so perfectly, however, that the fondness he experiences towards the two girls disappears with the persona, allowing Batman to take over and do what needs to be done in a fight. Batman doesn’t feel a thing as he dislocates Harley’s bad shoulder and burns Ivy’s vines. When Just Bruce is woken up by Alfred in the morning though, Brucie Wayne tucked aside until lunch and Batman resting in the back of his mind until the moon rises again, Just Bruce feels a sickening sense of guilt in the back of his mind that he can’t quite place.

Harley Quinn is so terrified that the acid messed up her brain beyond repair, that she has never tried to complete the research she once dedicated her life to despite the fact that her passion for it never died out. In fact, with the resources and loser morals she has now, it would be much easier to finish, but she’s rusty, and she can’t always think straight anymore, and she’s a doctor, damnit, and she will not put that title at risk by looking like a fool that don’t do some simple research. So at this point, she doesn’t even want to bother trying, despite Ivy’s assurances that she’s not as stupid as the joker made her feel.

There are whole groups of people online and in person that were created for the soul purpose of finding others who, under the effects of fear toxin, have had the joker be a disturbing focus of their fear. During these meetings, when Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon, and Harley Quinn are all disguised, sitting next to each other in companionable grief, they forget all that Batman and Robin stand for and comfort each other in the sole wish that the dark night would just kill the bastard already.

The people of Gotham tend to agree in this sense. In fact, they actively advocate for it most of the time, firm in their stance that they would turn a blind eye for Batman if he’d do it just this once. It wouldn’t be compromising his morals, they assure, and they like to think they would trust Batman more if he took joker off the streets. They’re wrong. A man that strong and skilled and powerful? The only reason Batman gives any hope or safety to the people is the fact that no matter how “bad” you are, he will actively try and keep you alive. The people don’t realize it, but if they knew just how easy it would be for Batman to let his strength slip even once and kill someone, Gotham would never recover. Joker is not the greatest threat in Gotham, but having the privilege of the greatest threat being on their side, the people of Gotham don’t recognize who their biggest fear could really be

[genderqueerdykes]

I do think it sucks that Alison Bechdel continued to go to Mitchfest and I understand why people find that deeply hurtful and troubling. It's also true that she was in support of camp trans and contributed comics to Transsisters(a journal of transsexual feminism) in protest of the policy. It's also true that she collaborated with and worked with trans women in support of their struggles. She had friends that were transmisogynistic feminists and she's consistently advocated for trans rights and inclusion (Especially of MTF dykes in dyke spaces).

It strikes me as deeply dishonest for anyone to call her a TERF and I don't think Riki Wilchens would characterize her in that way. I think there are problematic aspects in her model of feminism and she can be clumsy when it comes to these issues. I also think it's relevant and valid for people to criticize transmisogynistic bias in her work. I do think she's said and done things that demonstrate transphobic bias...I don't think it's healthy to conflate that with a committed ideology based in hatred and exclusion. I do get that it's disappointing that she kinda tries to have it both ways.

Starting in 2006 MWMF shifted more towards a don't ask don't tell policy (still bad!) and Trans women ran workshops on trans inclusion within the festival. Yellow armbands activists also worked to build support and solidarity for trans women's inclusion within the festival. I don't believe it's true or accurate to say that TERF was created as term to talk about anyone that attended MFWF.

that's very important context, thank you so much for providing this!

i didn't think it was appropriate to call her a terf either, so i'm glad to hear that it's not as bad as it could be. people are not perfect. some one you agree with often can still do questionable or shitty things sometimes. it is human to be flawed. i really appreciate the additional info!

[saeslove]

🕸️ 013 . the silent touch

synopsis when the star football player Michael Kaiser shows up at your window injured, you tend to his wounds and uncover a deeper side to him. as secrets unfold and emotions rise, you find yourself questioning your growing feelings for him. wc 1.8k

as you skimmed through your textbook for the calculus exam you were struggling with, doubts swirled in your mind. you couldn’t shake the unease about inviting a stranger into your house. your study lamp was the only source of light in the dim room.

your thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the window.

you glanced over and saw a silhouette of a man outside. hesitant at first, you received a text “i’m here.” it was from kaiser. as soon as you opened the window, a gust of wind rushed in, followed by the sight of a shivering Michael Kaiser.

"did you really climb up a 15-story apartment? you could’ve just come through the front door."

you stepped aside, letting him in as he walked around your room, inspecting your bedroom. “nice room.”

“yeah, it’s nothing special, though.”

his gaze fell on your study table, where papers were scattered everywhere. “oh, what’s this? calculus? you’re struggling with this?” he hid a smirk behind his smile.

“hey! this is the only chapter i need help with, and my exam is soon”

as he stepped closer to the light, his face was illuminated, and for the first time today, you saw his features clearly.

“what’s that on your face?”

his eyes met yours, but before he could respond, you stepped closer, brushing your fingers over his cheek. you felt the cut and bruise.

he quickly pulled away, looking down, hiding behind his hoodie. “it’s nothing. just a cut from football.”

“no, it’s not nothing,” you insisted. “let me help you. i’ll go get it the first aid outside.”

as you carefully tended to his wounds, you couldn’t ignore how close his face was to yours. just as you were finishing up, he winced, and a rush of sympathy just hit you. this bruise seemed to cut deeper than just the surface.

“you know, normal people use the door,” you said, attempting to ease the awkward tension hanging in the air.

“yeah, but then i wouldn’t get to see that look on your face. totally worth it,” he replied with a faint grin.

you opened your mouth to respond but decided against it, letting the words hang in the silence. his eyes, however, never left yours.

“i know what you want to ask,” he said, breaking the quiet.

“what?” you asked, your voice softer than you intended.

“you want to know where i got all these bruises,” he said, his tone unreadable.

“i mean, yeah but if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine”

“just a rough game, tackles hit harder sometimes. it’s not a big deal.” he shrugs

“you’ve got bruises everywhere, and a broken rib the other day and i’m supposed to believe this is just soccer? what soccer have you been playing?”

he leans back slightly, smirking, “why are you so worked up over this? maybe i should get injured more often then?”

you shot him a look. “don’t even joke about that. do you think i want to keep patching you up every time you get yourself hurt?”

“i didn’t ask you to but maybe you secretly like it”

"yeah sure, i just watching you wince in pain," you teased, smacking his bicep lightly. but the way he flinched made you pause.

your brow furrowed. "wait are you hurt somewhere else?"

"no" he said quickly, but the way his hand instinctively clutched his arm betrayed him.

you shot him a pointed look, and he sighed in defeat. "fine."

slowly, he pulled off his hoodie, revealing a nasty injury on his arm. you breath hitched as you took in the sight—though it wasn’t just the wound that caught your attention.

this was your first time seeing his tattoo up close. the intricate blue rose tattoo on his arm was impossible to ignore, the way it seemed to almost bloom under the light. as you gently cleaned the wound, your fingers brushed against his skin, and your eyes lingered a second too long.

"cool, right?" his voice was softer now, almost playful.

you glanced up at him. "yeah but why a blue rose?"

he hesitated, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "honestly? i don’t really know. i got it after i started playing football. it just felt right."

there was something unspoken in his words, something that made your heart beat a little faster. but before you could press further, a loud knock echoed through the house, snapping the moment like a twig underfoot.

“oh no that’s my dad! you have to hide! and don’t leave this room”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your sudden panic. “your dad? is he one of those ‘clean my shotgun while i meet your friends type?”

you glared at him, shoving him toward your closet. “don’t test it. now go!”

“fine, fine relax schatz.” he scrambled to his feet, wincing slightly as he moved. “but if he asks, i came through the door like a normal person.” surrendering his hands in the air.

“just hide!” you hissed, practically shoving him inside. he ducked into the cramped space, grumbling under his breath about how tight it was.

the knock sounded again, louder this time. taking a deep breath, you smoothed your hair and rushed to open the door.

your dad stood there, holding a set of car keys. “hey, i left my keys at home and just wanted to let you know i’m heading out to work again. need anything when i come home?”

you forced a smile, trying to steady your heartbeat. “nope, i’m good! thanks.”

he frowned slightly, eyes narrowing as he glanced past you into your room. “are you okay? you seem... jumpy.”

“nope, not at all. actually, i was just doing yoga” you leaned casually against the doorframe, praying he wouldn’t notice the slightly ajar closet door.

“in the dark?” he asked calmly but still suspicious.

“yeah it’s just a girls thing hehe”

after a long moment, he shrugged. “alright. i’ll be back tomorrow morning, love you.”

as soon as the door closed behind him, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. turning back to the closet, you yanked the door open.

“coast is clear”

he was sitting on the floor of your closet, holding one of your old basketball trophies. “didn’t know you played. pretty impressive.”

you grabbed the trophy from him, trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. “just a past time hobby.”

you sat beside him despite the small space, the silence between you heavy but not unwelcome. for a moment, it was just the two of you, the closeness offering a strange sort of comfort.

“you have a nice dad,” he said softly, breaking the quiet.

“thank you,” you replied, glancing at him. “he works really hard, and i try my best to make him proud.”

he hummed in acknowledgment, leaning his head back against the wall. his gaze seemed far away, as if the room had disappeared around him. “my dad used to beat me up for every little thing i did, especially when we didn’t have any food.”

he words hit like a brick, cutting through the air with quiet devastation. your breath caught, and you turned to him, studying the way his expression stayed oddly calm, like he’d come to terms with it long ago or maybe just buried it deep.

“that’s awful i’m so sorry,” you whispered, unsure if anything you said could even begin to be enough.

je shrugged, offering a faint, bitter smile. “it was what it was. i guess some people aren’t meant to be dads.”

you hesitated, the weight of his words sinking into you. “but you turned out different. you’re not like him.”

he finally looked at you, his eyes softer now, as if your words had reached a part of him he didn’t let people see. “i try” he murmured, his voice almost inaudible.

“your calculus, let me help you with it” he whispered.

you blinked at the sudden shift in conversation, confusion written all over your face. “my calculus? are you seriously using my math homework as a distraction right now?”

“yeah as a reward for patching me up, i’ll help you. you can’t say no because i’m not leaving here until you understand derivatives.”

he sat up, and walked over to your the notes you spread out on the table.

in the past hour he has taught you, you catch yourself watching him more than your notes. the way his brows furrow in concentration, the way his voice softens when he's explaining something challenging.

"see? it’s not that hard," he says, leaning back and grinning.

shaking your head. "yeah, easy for you to say. you ace everything without trying."

"that’s not true," he counters, his tone lighter now. "i’ve got a lot going on, just like you."

you hesitate, noticing the way his grin fades slightly as he speaks. for a brief moment, his vulnerability peeks through again, and it stirs something unfamiliar in your chest.

"you know you’re not what i expected” you say without thinking.

he looks at you, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "what did you expect?"

you shrug, trying to play it off, trying to not get on his nerves “i don’t know. some overconfident star athlete who only cares about himself. but! you’re different."

he smirks, “glad to know i’m not a total cliché."

you find your heart beating faster, your mind racing with the realisation that maybe this isn’t just some casual friendship.

"why are you looking at me like that?" he asks, breaking the moment.

you blink, heat rushing to your cheeks. "looking at you like what”

he smirks, leaning closer. there it was, undenying gaze— intense, unflinching, and impossible to look away from. It was as though he could see right through you. you swallow hard, unaware of how close he is.

"maybe i should go," he says, but there’s hesitation in his voice.

and for the first time, you find yourself not wanting him to leave.

series MASTERLIST

notes from lily ❦⋆ : my fever went down so i decided to just post this, hope u enjoy & thank you for waiting!

i know kaiser didn’t really go to school but i feel like if he did then he would’ve been smart at everything…

TAGLIST

@mixolya @x3nafix @96jnie @tamashithe2nd @cookielovesbook-akie @yuiearyi @noomimi @stargirljas @jhsluvv @sof888a @livelaughloveshidou @swagkittybear @axquella @passw-0-rd @hwaassaa @bbladie @tofumiarchives @justanotherweeb666 @metaphorically-here @ravenbc @levihanmyotp @rybunnie @adrnmyknight @etherealrin @shosuki @90s-belladonna @wwastro @shr00mfairy [tell me if i missed out anyone’s name]

comments & reblogs appreciated!

@ saeslove 2025 do not plagiarize, translate, or rewrite my writings without my permission !

[little-mushroom1716]

Doing all of these at once lol

🖍️ I told my parents a few days ago, and they're happy that I found a non-harmful coping mechanism :>

❤️ Splendorman from creepypasta

🩹 It depends on if I regress volontary or not. I think that I made a post about it, but I will shorten it:

Volontary regression: being generally happier, struggling to walk and speak, stimming, ect.

Unvolontary regression: crying, feeling of being psychically smaller, feeling of being lost and fearful

🧡 it's very irregular. It depends on my mood, school work, ect. So I am not able to say how often I regress 😅

🍬 no, I don't like reading in general.

💛 in my country it would be kindergarden.

🧸 I don't really understand the question, but I have a little sister.

💚 I've always been childlish lol

🧩 I think that they were my stuffies that I kept since my childhood.

💙 It's definitely fairycore/goblincore, but I sometimes add elements of cutecore

🍭 since.. hmm.. around 1 year (?)

💜 Bing (the kids show), play-pretend toys

🍼 I'm creating new memories. My childhood was horrible..

🖤 no, but I'd love to (don't dm me to meet me pls. I prefer having friends irl)

🪀 well if you count my tulpa, then yes.

🪁 it's more traditional.

🎨 I'd like to try diapers someday (NOT in a s*xual way!!)

🍬 I'm guessing that it's like unpleasant regression (?), so yes. In my case, the unpleasant regression is the unvolontary one.

🦋 not always.. I always fear that my parents/sister will come into my room and I'm kind of embarassed/scared to regress in front of them.

🧚 it's mostly a coping mechanizm to deal with my mental disorders and pronlems.

🧦 I like that the community is open, understanding and the posts are often accesible to disabled ppl. I don't like that some people tag "agere" under nsfw posts.. But are they really a part of our community? I mean, you can enjoy woohoo stuff and regress but tagging s*xual posts like that is not ok.

🦇 oh! Yes, a few times.

🌸 I headcanon Kamal Bora (smile for me) as a regressor :>

🐈‍⬛ I'm just under 20 right now, but I think that besides my age I'm represented "enough" in the community

🧃 I never tried pet regression, but I can compare myself to a happy puppy

🐰 right now, my tulpa (Theo) is my caregiver. But we both dislike the fact that Theo's not psychical. I'm planning to find a psychical caregiver in the future.

🎀 I think that my gear matches my age (3-5)

(couldn't find the emoji) it really depends on my mood. Sometimes its super easy, sometimes I struggle with it.

🌈 A fairy or a goblin

👾 honestly, it's just a good mood.

💭 I dream of them taking care of me psychically.

🌙 Agere Ask Game!!! ⭐

🖍 Who is the first person you told/would tell about your headspace?

❤ If you had a fictional caregiver/little who would it be?

🩹 What do you experience when you regress? (i.e fuzzy feelings, motor skill or speech struggle, etc.)

🧡 How often do you regress or try to regress?

🍬 Do you read agere fanfiction and if so, about who?

💛 What school grade (if any) would you be in according to your headspace?

🧸 Are you an older sibling who regresses/caregives or a younger sibling who regresses/caregives?

💚 Were you considered an "old soul" growing up or were you more "childish"?

🧩 What was your first piece of agere gear or what would you want as your first?

💙 What's your regression/caregiving aesthetic? (kidcore, babycore, altcore, etc)

🍭 How long have you been apart of agere tumblr?

💜 What are you obsessed with right now in your headspace? (sanrio, sharks, bluey, etc)

🍼 Do you include your personal nostalgia in your regression/caregiving or are you creating new memories?

🖤 Have you met any other regressors/caregivers in real life?

🪀 Have you ever regressed in front of someone or has someone ever regressed around you?

🪁 Is your headspace affected more through traditional or alternative regression? (bottles & cartoons or horror & thrill)

🎨 What's a piece of agere gear that you really want to have/try?

🍬 Have you ever experienced vent regression?

🦋 Are you comfortable with your regression/headspace?

🧚‍♀️ What is age regression/caregiving to you?

🧦 What's something you like & don't like about the agere community?

🦇 Have you ever regressed in a dream?

🌸 Who do you headcanon as a regressor or caregiver? (fictional or real)

🐈‍⬛ Do you think you're represented enough in the agere community? (poc, boys, under 20/over 30 yrs)

🧃Which animal best represents your headspace?

🐇 Has it been or was it hard for you to find a little/caregiver?

🎀 Does your headspace match the gear you use/want? (i.e. regresses to 10 years but loves pacifiers)

🎮 Do you struggle to play pretend or are you super imaginative?

🌈 What mythical creature would you rather be? (Hybrid, Fairy, Dragon, etc)

👾 What's the quickest way to get you in your headspace?

💭 What's one thing you often daydream about doing with your little/caregiver?

[marsian-tango]

Yandere God

Oh, bless the almighty being that used his power to put you on this world!

The life of a follower is simple and peaceful, and the company of the other followers fills your life with joy and a sense of fraternity. The people of the temple are your family. They are the ones who have been by your side your entire life, the ones that taught you your purpose, the ones that showed you how to be a devout sheep.

You live to serve your God. You were instructed to dedicate your life to him the same way the rest do. You’ve never needed any proof that he’s real, you know he’s taking care of all his followers, including you. You don’t need anything other than him in your life…right?

But what happens when you start to yearn for more? When you dream of leaving your monotonous days behind, exploring the world, getting to know yourself? Are you really willing to look past such blasphemy against your God in return for some…freedom?

Yandere! God who is the deity of family, wind, and fire. He is the least narcissistic out of all the Gods in the pantheon, but he’s still a God, so of course he has an ego that matches his divine self. He tends to keep to himself, he doesn’t visit his siblings in The Land of the Gods very often, instead enjoying the quiet of his home in The Great Beyond. He loves his siblings, sure. But he doesn’t feel like they have much in common apart from being immortal beings, so he prefers to support them from a distance, only appearing before them when he’s specifically called to do so.

Yandere! God who despite staying in his home most of the time, he also likes to visit his devout followers from time to time, just to see what they’re up to. He may not be as present or doting as the other Gods, but he still cares…a little. He doesn’t feel the need to parade himself to his acolytes, he’s a God after all. His followers should worship his existence regardless if he shows himself or not.

Yandere! God who relishes in the praise and the tributes dedicated to him. Ah, yes, bathed in flattery, as he should. But for his sake, it’s tough to be a God! Even when he's taking one of his long self-awarded naps, he can still hear the prayers that his followers make echoing inside his head.

Yandere! God who, as the God of family, rewards all followers that carry their lineage and start one themselves. He keeps the fire inside their homes glowing, pushing the darkness away, and covering them in a tender warmth. He may be a bit disconnected from those who worship him, but even he has to recognise their devotion and reward them sometimes. A grateful acolyte is a dutiful acolyte.

Yandere! God who one day decides to postpone his usual nap of the day, feeling the sudden need to watch over his temple instead, having a strange hunch that something is about to happen. His eyes never leave the temple throughout the whole day until nighttime comes, his gaze filled with an expectant gleam.

Yandere! God who, amongst the flickering light from the torches that adorn the outside of his temple, sees a couple. They are completely covered from head to toe, dark cloaks hiding their faces, but even then he can tell that they’re not a part of his worshipers. He watches them as they reach for the enormous doors of his temple, leaving a basket right at the doorstep, and leaving in a rush without looking back. His eyes follow them as they fade into the darkness of the night. He wonders what that was all about.

Yandere! God who materializes himself in front of his temple, gazing in curiosity at the basket before picking it up and inspecting it. He doesn’t think it’s an offering, it’d be weird to leave it right at the doorstep in the middle of the night. The content inside is covered with a thin blanket, but the blanket seems to be…breathing? Wait—what?

He takes off the blanket and finds…a baby. You.

Yandere! God who flees the scene with a confused look painting his sharp features after knocking on the golden doors of his temple, waking up the sleeping disciples. He hides amongst the clouds in the sky, watching how his followers carry the baby inside.

He’s confused. There’s this familiarity lingering inside of him, a knowing feeling that appeared once he saw you, a certain pang that clutched at his…soul? He didn’t even know that he had one.

Yandere! God who, from that day forward, started keeping an eye on you. As the years passed by, his careful gaze never left you. What? He was just curious about what was up with the strange child that was left at his doorstep.

Yandere! God who watched you grow into an innocent and sweetly dedicated acolyte. With the teachings of the older followers and your natural curiosity, you turned into a dutiful woman, becoming another one of his followers. Oh, boy, was he ecstatic! He was so entranced by you that even when his siblings invited him to parties and celebrations, his mind would still be consumed by thoughts of you. They even started questioning the reason for his sudden lovestruck look.

Yandere! God who loves when it’s your turn to conduct the daily prayers. He adores seeing you kneeling in front of his altar, leaving him offerings, whispering your hopes and dreams only for him to hear. Oh, look at you, gathering all those pretty flowers for his shrine, aren’t you sweet? You’re so cute and devout. The other followers are fine, but you shine brightly with your sheep-like obedience and hunger to please. An incandescent flame that warms his celestial soul. He’s never felt such a thing before. You’re just a human and he’s a God! So why does he find you so fascinating?! You’re driving him insane! You, and your saccharine smiles, your mellow voice, your velvety skin that’s begging to be caressed—! alright, he’s getting a bit carried away.

Yandere! God who, unbeknownst to you, assists you constantly. But doesn't quite show himself to you, not directly at least. He’s the summer breeze that ruffles your hair, the candle that remains light throughout your whole night of slumber, he’s the shadow in the clouds that looks after you during your afternoon strolls.

He doesn’t pay much attention to his other followers, but they can take care of themselves just fine! Oh, that family’s bonfire is not lighting up? Okay…? Then try harder? Don’t look at him, he’s a God, he's got stuff to do.

Yandere! God who starts noticing a change in your behavior. You’re reading, that’s normal, but why are you reading about other parts of the world? Very far away parts of the world?

You’re performing your daily rituals and offerings, as usual, but you seem…distant. 

Yandere! God who has been your priority and reason to live since you got to this temple. It’s always been the other followers, your God, and you. You love your life, but it starts feeling empty, you want more than just what you’ve been taught and what you’ve seen so far. This temple and these people are all you’ve known, but is this really all what life is about? Will your devotion to your God keep you satisfied forever? You want to learn, you want adventure, you want the dangers and the risks that your temple has protected you from.

Yandere! God who feels like he got stabbed in the heart when he finds out that you plan to leave. He doesn’t know what to do! Why would you leave?! Your life is perfect the way it is, he makes sure of that! Please don’t leave, it’s way easier to keep tabs on you if you’re in his temple!

Yandere! God who’s in panic, he’s not sure if he should show himself to you and force you to stay or try to approach you in a more indirect way. Maybe if he lets you know that he’s aware and attentive of your existence, you won’t be so adamant to leave, right? That’ll work…right?

Maybe not.

Why is this so difficult?! He’s trying! He swears he’s trying, but you don't cooperate! Even if he sends subtle miracles your way to make his presence known, you’re so entranced in your dreams and ambitions that you don’t notice. Torches light up the second you enter a room, and you don’t notice…?

Yandere! God who’s getting absurdly frustrated by his failed attempts. Why is this happening to him?! Why are the fates punishing him so mercilessly?!

You’re special, he has never felt this way towards anyone, you make him feel. You’re not just one of his followers, you’re more, he felt it the moment he saw you!

Yandere! God who, despite being the God of family, has never felt as connected to his family as he is to you.

He has spent eons wishing for a real family. The other Gods are so self centered, selfish, they want to show off themselves constantly, and they may be around each other, but they’re not present. They are his family, but he yearns for real companionship. He wants a family that won’t just call him when they want to see him, he wants a family that will stay with him, one that will go out of their way just to see him, one that will stand by his side.

Yandere! God who ever since he met you, he started having thoughts of…creating a family, having one completely of his own, from his flesh and celestial blood. You make him think that, so it’s only logical to create said family with you, right?

The gods were never enough to alleviate his familiar ache, but you are, and he’ll be damned if he lets you get away from him.

Yandere! God who watches you with a dark gleam in his eyes as you sneak out of his temple, marking the beginning of your journey. You make your way through the dark forest with a bag filled with your belongings, you may not know where you’re going, but you seem to relish the uncertainty of your odyssey.

Yandere! God who lies calmly on the clouds, and with a lazy flicker of his hand, shifts the wind, making your frightened body raise in the air.

He maneuvers the wind, raising you higher and higher into the air, until the forest you were in moments ago starts looking like a mere speck of dirt.

Yandere! God who smirks at your terrified expression, cooing at the tears glistening down your soft cheeks. He sets you down on his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you steady. He rejoices in the closeness between you two, letting out a content sigh.

There’s no way you’re leaving him now.

He’ll stay here a little longer, the height you both are at makes you cling desperately to him, he likes that. But after this, he’ll bring you back to his home. The Great Beyond is a wonderful place. He’s sure you’ll love it, and even if you don’t, don’t worry, he’ll customize it right to your liking! Plus, you guys can always fill the space with a few kids too. Oh, You’ll be such a good mother!

Yandere! God who can already tell you’re gonna give him the perfect family.

Hello, everyone! I've been absent for a few days, I'm sorry. I procrastinated this for a while now, but everytime I tried writing my creativity would just turn off. This is a bit different from my other posts, or at least I feel like it is, so as always, I'd appreaciate some feedback. Tell me what you think, if you'd like a specific yandere next, if you see any mistakes. Also, if you want me to start writing stories instead of just "Yandere! who" let me know. Kisses <3

[tsandoll]

so i have the feeling taesan would be a very loving and caring boyfriend, lots of cuddles, hand holding and kisses but only when you two are alone. i don't think he would be into pda usually and you don't really have a problem with that. but i feel like sometimes he can be a bit too lowkey and straight up forgets to tell people that you're his girlfriend, he just let's them assume.

so i imagine the same thing happens with the rest of bnd. like he is totally sure that he told them about you at some point, but the problem is he totally didn't. so you are hanging out with him, when suddenly the others show up because well they live together and you are thrilled to meet his friends that he had told you so much about, but in return you just get confused expressions and the question of who you are. for a second you contemplate if you should get mad but you know how your boyfriend is and that he wouldn't keep you a secret from his friends on purpose, so when taesan introduces you just by your name and not as his girlfriend you decide to play along and act as if you're just a friend while you are hanging out with the guys.

but as soon as taesan and you are alone it's like something switches. 'so when were you gonna tell your friends that we're together?' you ask him and his eyes go wide, but before he can apologize you laugh a bit to show that you're not really mad, but what you are is determined. you push him down on the bed and straddle him, leaning close to whisper in his ear:"i'm gonna make you regret it."

your mission for the night: let everyone in the entire house hear taesan so that there will be no doubt about who you are. but as taesan is usually not too loud you know you have to give him a very special treatment tonight.

oh, i wanna hear his moans so badly, i just know they sound heavenly and so hot, especially when giving him head, imagine him lying on the bed hair sticking to his forehead looking at you with a fucked-out expression after you've already made him cum and whine when you just keep going, overstimulating him because you love hearing and seeing him like this, so desperate for your touch and not caring anymore about who could hear him because he is too focused on you and the pleasure you are giving him.

and i want to see him face the others in the morning, shyly avoiding their eyes and cheeks burning red because he knows they heard him.

💙

(im so sorry it's taken so long to get to your asks :(( i just always want to give a good response to these so badly so i put it off more and more until i feel like i can do it justice.. sorry nonnie 💔)

there's a certain point he reaches where he can no longer control himself. it wouldn't matter who could hear him,, all that would matter is you an show you're making him feel in that moment. he'd already be so sensitive, so needy for release when you put your mouth on him. your mouth would be so warm and you'd lower onto his length, taking him in the back of your throat so easily. he'd immediately moan out loud, his hips suddenly jutting upward. he'd grip onto whatever he can around him because he has to find some way to ground himself. your head would bob up and down his length, holding his hips in place so he can't squirm away from you. he would be so ruined already, all of his whines would come close to sounding like cries. honestly if you didn't give him a bit of mercy right now he might actually cry. he's getting louder and louder and it's making you smile.. he looks dizzy when you look up at him, like he can't keep himself together. gosh he's gonna be so embarrassed later on when he's not focused on holding his orgasm back. his whole body would be hot, the gentle shudder of his body is only warming him up more. when you pull off of his length to just stroke it for a moment you would be able to see how red his tip is. he needs to cum so so badly so you finally let him. he would let out the most beautiful string of moans when he finally cums, tugging at his hair and thrusting into your mouth gently. he thought the torture was finally over but you'd keep stroking him through it.. stroking him even faster once he's run out of cum for the time being. this is when he'd really lose it, moaning and begging for you to stop, but you don't <3 not until you feel like everyone's heard him well enough!!